#I would have watched it round his as he had my half brothers netflix on his tv but now the netflix doesnt work

[drag0nalias0]

Finally about to watch Nimona!!!!!

[emilyhufflepufftlk]

The Blind Monk

TLK x Daredevil Crossover

MASTERLIST

A/N: This was posted on AO3 back in March, I re-read it recently and decided to post it here as well. This is a crossover with the Netflix/Marvel show, Daredevil, however no prior knowledge is needed.

Brother Matthew is blind but can see better than any man. God has given him a gift and he uses it to protect his monastery from raiding Danes. Uhtred, Finan, Sihtric and Osferth come across Matthew's monastery after a Dane attack, but are surprised what they find.

Word Count: 1,518

Warnings: some violence

Read on AO3 if you prefer

Shafts of early morning light poured from the windows of the dark chapel as the group of monks knelt for their morning prayers. One monk sat away from the others, his eyes covered with a cloth bound around his head, his staff positioned beside him. He was a strange kind of monk, young and fit with the body of a warrior rather than a man of God. Indeed, he had once been a soldier in the great King Alfred’s army, before his injury at Beamfleot had put his fighting days to an end. Despite losing his eyes at the hands of the Danes, the monk could see better than any of his fellow brothers. He had a gift from God, or so the monks said. Many said that he had the gift of prophesy, able to warn of incoming riders before they came into view and able to pre-empt the movements and decisions of others. Although they believed he saw the future, the monk knew that his gift was entirely different in nature. He was able to warn of riders because he could hear the hooves of their horses trampling the earth from a mile away. He could tell when a man was lying or anticipating an attack from his heart rate that he was able to hear as clear as his own. He knew how long men had been on the road from the way they smelt and could react to a man’s movements due to the tiny tremors in the ground underneath his feet and in the air around him. God had indeed given him a gift, one that allowed him to observe the world in far more detail than any seeing man.

The blind monk tilted his head, a low rumble far off in the distance drawing his attention away from his prayers. Slowly he got to his feet. ‘Brother Matthew, what is it?’ one of his fellow brothers asked.

‘Danes,’ he replied calmly, ‘they are coming.’ The monks rose to their feet, crossing themselves and bowing their heads to the cross before leaving the chapel. Brother Matthew had been correct in his predictions too many times for them to doubt him. They gathered all the valuables they could carry and headed to the woods. No doubt the Danes would tear their monastery apart, taking anything they found of value, and possibly burn it to the ground, but with God’s mercy they should live.

---

‘Lord!’ Sihtric called from just behind them, ‘Look! Smoke!’

Uhtred looked to where his friend was pointing. Dark clouds of smoke were rising above the treeline, an ominous sign that the land was still not at peace.

‘Danes, Lord?’ asked Finan.

‘I would not be surprised,’ answered Uhtred. They were in an area of Mercia not far from Danelaw, the villages and churches would no doubt provide easy pickings for Danish raiding parties. ‘Let’s go and see if there are still any Danes to kill.’

---

‘I see no one, Lord,’ Osferth observed, walking between the burning remains of the monastery.

‘Perhaps they took them as slaves?’ Finan offered, but Uhtred shook his head.

‘Danes do not make priests slaves. They kill them, and they enjoy it.’

‘Lord,’ Sihtric said in a low voice, barely above a whisper. ‘We are being watched.’

Uhtred gave a silent order to Sihtric with a simple nod, they had been fighting together long enough not to have to communicate with words. He walked away from the others and circled round behind the building where he had spotted the figure who watched them. Several minutes of silence followed.

‘It’s alright, Lord,’ Sihtric called to them, ‘it is only a monk.’ He returned moments later, half dragging the monk along beside him.

‘Are you going to kill me?’ the monk asked, clearly terrified. ‘We have nothing to give you. Danes have already taken everything we have.’

‘We are not here to harm you,’ Uhtred reassured him, ‘we serve the Lady Aethelflaed of Mercia. We wish to help you.’ The monk relaxed a little but continued to be uneasy, looking from Uhtred and to Sihtric and back again, obviously weary of men who looked so much like Danes.

‘It is alright, brother,’ a voice came from behind one of the buildings, ‘he is Lord Uhtred of Bebbenburg. He is a friend, and he will not harm us.’ A blind monk walked out towards them, using his staff to guide himself.

‘Do I know you?’

‘Before I was a monk, I was a warrior. I fought at Beamfleot, Lord. I recognised your voice,’ the blind monk explained. ‘My name is Brother Matthew, please come with me, you must be hungry after your long journey.’

---

‘Here, eat this, lord.’ One of the monks handed Uhtred a bowl of hot stew. They sat in a small clearing in the woods next to a small river. It appeared that the monks had hidden provisions in the woods for just this situation.

‘How did you escape? We saw no bodies at the monastery?’

‘We were forewarned, lord. We were able to run to the woods before they arrived.’

‘Who warned you?’

‘God is great. He guides us.’ The monk’s answer made Uhtred roll his eyes. He was about to make some sarcastic comment when he was interrupted.

‘Everyone be quiet,’ Brother Matthew ordered. Uhtred frowned, not liking taking orders from a monk. ‘Danes, they are here in the woods.’

‘And how the hell do you know that?’ Finan asked, a sceptical look on his face.

‘How I know is not relevant. They are coming and my guess is that they wish to kill us,’ Matthew snapped.

‘How many men? From which direction?’ Uhtred demanded.

The blind monk stayed incredibly still for a moment, slightly cocking his head to one side as if listening intently. ‘Twelve, lord. They come from all directions; they mean to surround us.’

‘Lord, what do we do?’ Sihtric asked, his eyes darting from tree to tree trying to spot the imminent danger.

There was only four of them, plus the monks who he doubted could fight. That meant they would have to take three each; they had faced worse odds in the past and survived. If the monk was to be believed, Uhtred had few choices available to him. He turned to face his men. ‘We fight.’

---

The Danes came from all sides, pinning them against the river. There were twelve of them, just like the monk had said. Uhtred and his men were the better fighters, but they were outnumbered one to three and had the monks to protect. It was a fight that they seemed unlikely to win. Uhtred swung his sword with all his might, fighting two Danes at once. Finan and Sihtric fought back to back beside him, taking on five men between them. He couldn’t see Osferth but heard the clash of his sword behind him, defending the monks that had retreated to the river. They had dispatched several of the Danes to Valhalla already but there were still too many left standing.

Suddenly one of the Danes he was fighting was no longer on his feet, instead he was bent double in pain. Uhtred did not see who had cast the blow to the man’s stomach, too focused on the other men that attacked him from all sides. He rammed his sword through a large Dane’s throat, blood pouring down his neck and flooding his mouth as he fell to the floor. He turned to where Finan and Sihtric fought, ready to run to his friends’ aid but found he was not needed.

Over half the Danes lay dead or wounded on the ground. Finan and Sihtric stood over the two they had just killed and Uhtred watched as Osferth slit open the belly of another. That left only three fighting, and yet none of them were fighting Uhtred or his men. Instead they stood and watched as the blind monk fought them, using his staff as a club. He hit with great precision, dodging and swerving attacks better than most able sighted men. He twirled the staff around and landed a blow to one of the Dane’s head, knocking him to the ground. The monk then knocked the legs from under the other two men, causing them to stumble to the ground. With two strong wielded blows of his staff they lay unconscious on the ground.

They all stood dumbfounded. It would have been a shock to see a monk fight like that even without him also being blind. Uhtred could not understand how a warrior could fight without eyesight, your other senses were important in battle, but they could never compensate for the loss of sight completely.

‘God has granted me a gift, Lord Uhtred,’ the blind monk explained. ‘He works in the most mysterious of ways. Wouldn’t you agree?’ And with that he left them, walking over to where the other monks stood, shaken but unharmed. Uhtred looked at Finan, his friend as confused and shocked as he was. It seemed neither of them were sure what they had just witnessed.

@morosemagick @magravenwrites @solinarimoon @lauwrite1225 @thebohemianpenguin @93xdiagonxalley

[omiscurls]

Lady and The Tramp - sakusa kiyoomi x reader

well hi! It’s been a while since I wrote one of those, huh?

so obviously the volleyball player you’re gonna fall for today is sakusa kiyoomi

the word count: around 2K 

summary: your boyfriend and you go for a winter walk with his dog, and he gets a bit nostalgic. 

and let’s go!

The sun shines a little bit different every season of the year. The winter sun is a tad bit more harsh and refreshing that the slow, dripping summer mornings. And as you look at the white, glistening snow, and the cold sun rays shining directly at it, you just have the urge to go out and do something with yourself, don’t you?

Same struggles happened in Sakusa Kiyoomi’s head that very morning when he woke up to a cold apartament drowning in sun rays, causing him to put a hand over his eyes, to cover them from the merciless light.

“Did I forget to turn the heaters on again?” He whined, and cursed his need to open windows before going to sleep each night. Now it was almost impossible for him to get out of the sheets, considering the temperature in his room was way below zero.

He managed to get one arm outside the warm bed and reached for his phone, charging on the side table. A sight of you in his MSBY shirt, sat on a kitchen counter and showing something you just baked, with a proud grin on your face on his wallpaper greeted him, and the widget above your head told him that it was six in the morning.

So he woke up before his alarm? Impressive, given that it was a Saturday and no practice was planned. He had exactly thirty two minutes before his phone would tell him to “get his ass out of bed” and go for a run.

Sighing, he threw the phone away on the mattrace, and wrapping his blanket around him, he went over to the window.

It snowed last night.

Wait, it snowed last night?

Suddenly, he was a little kid inside, because oh gosh, it never snowed these days! It was all looking so nice, everything covered in a white layer, as if it wasn’t the outside of his apartment, but a picture taken from a children’s book.

After he almost jumped from excitement, the adult side of his has taken over. If it snowed, it meant the temperature went below zero. If it went below zero, the sidewalk would be so slippery that running would be almost impossible.

Well, screw it. He wasn’t going to let a tad little detail like that ruin his good mood. And so he went over to each radiator he had and turned it on, then going to bed again and scrolling through his social media until the temperature around was warm enough for him to leave the sheets. 

And so it took a couple of hours for him to finally get himself up and going, but it was still fairly early when you knocked on the door of his apartment, and heard some shuffling inside.

“Sit already, would you? Fine, okay, I know you’re excited, but-“ your boyfriend’s voice was cut off by a bark, and he was silent for a second, while on the other side of the door, you were barely holding in your laugh.

“Hey! Behave! No!” he raised his voice ever so slightly, but apparently it worked on the poor dog, because soon enough you saw him, leant against the doorframe with both his hands in his pockets, his pet sitting beside him, although almost jumping from excitement upon seeing someone else.

“Oh, didn’t expect you here today” he said nonchalantly, a smirk forming on his lips, as he knew well that he invited you here himself. You rolled your eyes, and passed him by, leading yourself to his bathroom. “Not even a hello?” he whined jokingly, as you shook your head.

“I was in a public bus, let me go wash my hands” you explained, and he nodded, mentally trying to convince himself that’s just something people do. You’re not doing it just for him.

He followed you to the bathroom and once again stood in the door, looking at you with a happy spark in his eyes.

You looked so in place while just casually standing anywhere in his apartament. Like you belonged there. And he was almost certain you indeed, did belong there. He wouldn’t have you any other place, rather than by his side.

“You should really get a license already” he said, quickly looking down at his nails, so you wouldn’t see him stare.

“Mhm” you agreed silently, wiping your hands “I know” you slowly approached him, firstly playing with the material of his shirt, and after a while, curling his hair on your finger. It required staying on your tippy toes, which he found endearing. “And you, sir, are due for a haircut”

“Am I?” he said, touching his curls himself, but not leaving you to check in the mirror. “Can you do it?”

You giggled.

That was kinda part of the plan, since he absolutely loved hearing you laugh. He wasn’t the most funny person on earth, yet he was motivated to become a full comedian just to hear that genuine chuckle you gave his finest jokes.

„I cant cut your hair, silly” you said, rubbing his temple with one finger as you were still playing with the pitch black curls. “You have to go to a salon”

He shivered theatrically, rolling his eyes at you and walking away towards the kitchen. “And here I thought you loved me” he huffed, making you smile in disbelief.

“You’re being a baby!”

“I’ll ask my sister to do it”

“Your sister lives kinda away, you’re aware of that, right?” you continued, following his steps to the bigger room, where he was sitting on the floor and tying his shoes.

“So? She loves me, she’ll do it”

“She has her own kid to take care of, she doesn’t need a twenty two year old one” you shoot back, remembering the last family reunion you attended with your boyfriend. It was a complete mess, but meeting his parents explained... a whole lot of things about his character. 

He really did look like a little kid, reaching for another one of his sneakers, scarf already put half on around his neck, smiling softly, having to pause the process of tying his shoes every time his dog tried to lick his face in excitement. The poorly named Swiss Setter never left your boyfriend’s side whenever he was home, so used to his their very own slow lifestyle. 

You knew damn well she was emotionally attached to her owner, and loved him dearly, as you were the one to babysit her whenever Kiyoomi had an out of town game, and the first couple of times she didn’t sleep at all, and neither did you. It required him staying overnight at your place together with the dog for her to understand it’s a safe place. 

“Now now, calm down, Lady, at least let me tie my shoes!” he giggled childishly. The first time you ever saw him snuggled up on the couch with the dog, watching some crappy Netflix show, you couldn’t believe your eyes. 

THE Kiyoomi Sakusa. On the couch. With a dog. 

You soon found out that Lady, because that’s the crappy name the dog so proudly got by, had been one of your boyfriend’s only friends until the time he graduated. She wasn’t exactly a rescue dog, but his older brother brought her home from his former friend’s house, where she didn’t exactly had the best start in life. 

Kiyoomi didn’t fall in love at first sight, he needed time to adjust to having a dog in the house, but Lady seemed very fond of him, and weirdly enough, only listened to his commands. (The trainer said it’s about his voice, as it is deep and raspy, when he says something loudly enough, she feels respect towards him). 

He was soon in charge of training the dog to be a good pet for a household such as the Sakusas place, a huge, always so elegant and spotless house, where no one is around too often, but frankly, “family friends” came back every other night to drink rosé with his mother, or whisky with his father. 

It was to no one’s surprise, that when Kiyoomi moved away and went to college, his porcelain doll of a mother and distant father couldn’t get a hold of the Swiss Setter, who’s manners weren’t so ladylike. The deal was simple, either kiyoomi takes her to his place, or she ends up in a shelter. 

And as he loved dogs, and secretly had a heart of a four-year-old, he took her in with himself, and, frankly, let her rule over his at-home life all the time. 

She was very well behaved when in public, knew what was on her owner’s mind by the look in his eyes and reacted on the snaps of his fingers, but inside the four walls of his apartment, she could walk all over him, which you found amusing. 

Kiyoomi put her on her leash, and rose his eyebrow at you. 

“Coming?” he asked, having the door opened for you already. You nodded and left, waiting for him to lock the door behind the three of you. 

It was cold outside, but not too cold, and the air was refreshing, even in such a city as Osaka is. Kiyoomi mindlessly tied his pinky with yours, a bit of a hard thing to do in leather gloves, but he was all about the details. 

After two years of your relationship, he was perfectly capable of holding your hand just fine, but sentimentally enough opted to hold your pinky instead, as if your romance was fresh once again. 

You smiled at the feeling and squeezed his pinky back with yours, You glanced over at him staring at his feet, as you walked towards the park in comfortable silence. 

“When do you have the next match, Omi?” you started a casual conversation, and he looked as if you took him out of a trans of sorts. 

“Oh, uhm, next Friday” he answered upsentmindedly. You caught him sparing loving glances in Lady’s direction, an indescribable nostalgy painting his face in cold colors. 

When you reached the entrance to the huge park, where dogs were allowed off leash, you bent over and made a snowball, the throwing it at his back. He turned around to face you and gave you a look of betrayal. 

“You didn’t” he whispered. 

“I think I did” you giggled, covering your mouth with your hands, waiting for his next move. 

He bit back a smirk, trying to remain stoic as he kneeled down to release Lady off her leash, hiding it in the pocket of his black coat, then picking up snow in his hands and forming a round snowball, directing it right at you. 

Lady kept running around the two of you, jumping in excitement, not fully understanding what you’re doing, but happy to be a part of it. 

“Hey, ouch!” you laughed, theatrically covering the shoulder it reached. “You didn’t need to spike it!” 

There weren’t many people at the park that day, considering the fact that it was first snow, and parents don’t usually bring kids, who want to build snowmen, to a park where dogs are allowed off leash. 

“Oh, you wanna see a spike?” a little smile covered his lips, exposing his blushing cheeks, contrasting with the rest of his pale face, and dark curls. 

“Try me, pretty boy” 

“Aight” he put his hands up in an agreeing gesture “Just don’t whine about the bruises later” 

“Same goes to you” 

He huffed, getting back as he gathered snow in his hands and rolled it a bit before aiming at you, jumping in place as you tried to “become a harder target to hit”. He shook his head in disbelief. 

God, I love that dork, he thought, purposely frowning and posing as if he was about to serve. 

Lady kept jumping around him, noticing a round object in his hand. 

“This is not for you, dummy” he laughed, but noticing her excitement, excitement that he didn’t get to see a lot recently, since she was visibly getting older, and more tired, a warm feeling flooded over his chest. He sighed. “Alright, you want it? You want it?” he kept teasing, making her jump around, before breaking the ball and rubbing the snow in her fur.  

She layed down on her back, showing her tummy for pets, which he did obviously provide, tickling that one spot that made her move her leg uncontrollably. 

He got up, and formed another snowball, showing it to her. 

“Watch out, I’m throwing it!” he said to her, before aiming at some free space far from him, throwing the ball from behind his back, watching with a heartwarming smile as she ran after it. 

He seemed to have forgotten about defeating you, watching as his dog kept digging for the “ball” that already disappeared in the snow, so you walked back up to him. 

“You okay?” you asked softly, and he looked at you in surprise. 

“Yeah, obviously” he responded, but something seemed off. You tangled your arms around his shoulder, smushing your cheek against it, and looking at Lady sniffing around the place the snowball landed. “You know, if it weren’t for her, I’d still be too anxious to pet dogs I like when I’m on walks” he started, his mind some place else. 

“Well, many things wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for her. We probably wouldn’t have met!” you smiled against the fabric of the thick coat, both of you remembering that sunny afternoon when you sat by the river in the park, reading some sort of upsetting news on your phone, frowning, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, when suddenly, you flinched, seeing a snoot between your arms, and when you parted it, you saw a panting, big dog staring back at you. You heard a distressed  “Oh my god, Lady! Come back here!” in the distance, and you lifted your eyes to see a tall like a tower twenty-year old, black curls swept away from his face with hairgel, but getting a bit in the way due to the wind, the guy wearing black t-shirt, with a golden logo, of what appeared to be a... fox? You then thought, only later discovering it’s actually a Jackal, and the letters B and J on the sides of it, and sporty shorts. Apparently, they were on a run. 

“I’m so, so sorry, she never does that. Please don’t get too mad at her, she means no harm! Oh, my god, Lady, come back here!” he hissed, putting the dog back on a leash. “I’m sorry! Hey, I can buy you a coffee, if that’ll make up for her? I’m choosing the coffee shop though, there’s a little one nearby and there’re not too many people in it, the popular ones are a rip off anyway, wait— are you crying?” he panted out, staring directly at your face, with a deadpan look.

“It’s alright, I like dogs. But I like coffee, too”

You smiled upon remembering that afternoon, as the completely different sun shined on you two in that moment, not the exhausting, August-ish one, that makes you want to never leave the nearest pool, but a cool and refreshing February one. Two years passed, and the both of you weren’t just strangers in the park, you were one of these cheesy couples teenage girls look at and get upset because they think they’re never going to be like that with anyone. Although, the bonding dog stayed the same. 

Speaking of Lady, she ran up to Kiyoomi, who was lost in his thoughts and memories, proudly showing off a stick she must’ve found under the snow at some point. 

“Look what you got there!” he kneeled down, trying to get it away from her to throw it. “My good girl” he giggled. 

Some February afternoons could just last forever.

[megalony]

Kiss the girl

This is my first Noah Flynn imagine/ series from the Netflix movie The Kissing Booth. I’ve replaced Elle with the Reader and changed the storyline to fit the plot, I hope you will all enjoy, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: (Y/n) and Lee are best friends but Lee warns his brother away from her, she’s been through a lot and her mental health is suffering. Lee thinks Noah is only going to make (Y/n) worse after what she has suffered, but Noah can’t stay away from her and (Y/n) feels drawn to him.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What was she doing?

She couldn't do this, she wanted to go back and hide behind the curtain, she wanted to be stood on the sidelines taking money in exchange for tickets and a mint from the complimentary bowl on the side. (Y/n) wanted to be anywhere but stood here where even with the blindfold she could still see and imagine all the eyes that were watching her with intense curiosity. She could feel their burning gazes making blisters form on her skin and she could sense someone close by who was waiting to take her first kiss away from her and keep it like a reward.

(Y/n) never liked anyone watching her or looking at her when she was doing anything. When her father glanced over her shoulder when she was cooking she froze up and waited for him to smile and disappear. When a teacher looked over her shoulder when she was working out a problem or starting her essay she leaned over to block her work and felt like crying until they relented and moved on to watch another student instead.

Sometimes she wanted to be invisible, she wanted to be a ghost who could glide through the world unnoticed and only have a select few people notice her who she wanted to be seen by.

But now the whole school was gathered round the booth she and Lee had come up with, watching in amazement and anticipation as she was about to have her first kiss with a total stranger- not that anyone at school knew this was to be her first kiss.

(Y/n) could feel her heart pounding in her chest like it was going to break free from her ribs and she could feel her lungs shrivelling up like balloons which had been popped and were now sagging and becoming useless in her chest cavity. She wanted to go home, she wanted to go to the arcades with Lee, she wanted to be at her mum's grave, just anywhere else but here so exposed and in the open like this.

Then she felt a pair of hands.

The moment she stumbled out of the curtains and froze up like she had turned to stone, (Y/n) felt a large calloused pair of hands taking her own like a guiding light or a star for the shepherds to follow in the dead of night.

There was something oddly familiar about the hands that held hers so firmly yet with a gentleness about them like they wanted to help but not hurt her or be too firm or too rough or loose or cruel.

(Y/n) almost jumped when she felt the person's thumbs smoothing over the back of her hands in a rhythmic way that automatically seemed to calm her erratic heartbeat. By the size, feel and callousness of the hands (Y/n) guessed that it was a boy standing in front of her which made sense since she was here to be kissed in the booth.

When she felt the hands suddenly but gently pulling on her hands she realised the person was guiding her to the podium to stand at so they could kiss and get this over and done with. (Y/n) knew without a doubt that she was kissing this one person and then she would retreat and hide from the world, there was no way that she could stand and do this again and again, her nerves would be too shot to pieces for that to happen.

Her toes scuffed against the floor and her feet tripped over thin air due to her nerves and uneasiness about the situation but she didn't fall or stumble very far like she thought she would. The hands so gently holding hers were firm and the arms were tense and strong enough to bear her stumbling weight and keep her upright.

(Y/n) felt the hands slowly turning her palms face down until they were resting on the stand with the stand between her and the stranger who felt somehow familiar. She didn't know what to do when she was stood knowing all eyes were now solely focused on her like there was a bright spotlight beaming right onto her panicked form. She didn't know whether to lean forward and just try to kiss him, whether to wait for him to make the first move or to lean in and let him kiss her.

Noah almost felt bad.

He bought a ticket but he didn't think it would be (Y/n) who would emerge from behind the curtain ready- or rather afraid, to kiss him.

One the one hand, he felt rather bad because it was very clear by the timid way (Y/n) was holding her upper arms to her chest and coiling in on herself that she didn't want to be here doing this. She was afraid, she was panicked like she always seemed to be nowadays and she was clearly unnerved by the fact that she didn't know who she was going to be kissing. It made Noah feel bad because he didn't want her to be afraid or upset like this, especially not when it was him who was about to kiss her.

But on the other hand, Noah was glad he was here about to kiss (Y/n) because he knew she had never had a boyfriend or ever kissed anyone before. He wanted to be her first kiss, he wanted her to kiss someone she knew and someone she- hopefully, liked. Someone who wouldn't make her feel uncomfortable or push her or take advantage of her.

He also wanted to be her first kiss because there was something about (Y/n) that drew Noah in and she was the only girl he really felt the urge to kiss and want to be around. Everyone else that he kissed was merely a distraction from the one person he was desperate to kiss but knew he couldn't because he was bound by a promise he had made to his little brother.

This was different.

Noah could kiss her for the first time and he could kiss her freely in front of everyone knowing that Lee was bound to find out because this was a kissing booth. It was for charity, he didn't plan this and it wasn't as if people knew he was delighted that it turned out to be (Y/n) that he was going to kiss.

Wasting no more time since he could feel eyes watching them, Noah gently cupped (Y/n)'s cheek before he leaned over the stand and pressed his lips to hers.

Noah could feel the way that he stole (Y/n)'s breath that she didn't seem to have very much of in the first place. Her chest tightened and she almost wanted to pull back and tear herself away from him but after half a second Noah felt her relax. He felt her body tensing before releasing, he felt her jaw loosen and her lips part ever so slightly and press more firmly against his own. He felt her hands moving to hold his arms like she needed something to ground herself and her head leaned forward to try and get as close to him as possible.

This was something much different than any of the other many kisses that Noah had experienced before. He had imagined what it would be like to kiss (Y/n), his little brother's most trusted best friend and whenever he thought about it Noah felt like he was doing something wrong. It felt like a guilty pleasure to imagine himself kissing the girl who intrigued him so much but here he was living out his most thought of fantasy.

Nothing could have prepared him for how it felt to kiss her.

Who was she kissing? Who was (Y/n) kissing who was touching her skin so delicately yet kissing her with a fire and a passion that she had never felt or born witness to before?

(Y/n) felt like she could have stayed in that moment for the rest of her life and let that be her future. She could feel every nerve and worry and spark of anxiety that were her constant companions suddenly vanish into thin air and made her forget that they were being watched by many people from school. She had no pestering thoughts on her mind, there were no worries plaguing her and no anxious butterflies in her chest ready to steal her breath and knot her stomach until she wanted to be sick. Whoever was kissing her seemed to be putting a drug into her system, one that (Y/n) was in dire need of that she wanted to become addicted to.

The moment the kiss ended (Y/n) wanted to rewind time and replay that moment again and again to see if it would feel any better or different than that because right now she couldn't think of anything that would top that feeling.

She could barely breathe, but this wasn't the breathlessness that (Y/n) usually felt. She didn't feel the panic that came with not being able to find her breath, she didn't feel scared or like her lungs were screaming for air. It felt like she was full of helium and was about to float away into the clouds if those hands weren't still cupping her face and holding her arm so tenderly.

The hand on her arm suddenly moved up to her shoulder before reaching her face and for a brief moment, (Y/n) wondered if he was going to lean in and steal another kiss from her. She wouldn't mind if he did because he just made her first kiss the most memorable and most precious moment of her life and right now she needed a moment like that to lift her spirits.

But his hand didn't cup her face to take another kiss from her lips, his fingers instead moved to the elastic band around her head that held the blindfold in place over her eyes, protecting her mind from panicking about who she was kissing. When the stranger very gently and cautiously removed the mask from her eyes, (Y/n) felt a spark of fear striking her heart that simultaneously jumped up into her throat.

She had always wanted her first kiss to be special and with someone she either loved or really admired and wanted to kiss. It was something she wanted to be meaningful and something that she could take comfort in.

When she was younger she always wanted to kiss Noah and know what it would be like because so many girls had the pleasure of kissing him. All while (Y/n) only had the pleasure of knowing him and knowing what a crush on him felt like from being so close to him. Her crush on him seemed to dwindle and then spark up again when she least expected it but she thought she had it under control.

Her first kiss was with her crush who she had known her entire life, someone she would have to face seeing almost every day and live down the embarrassment this moment would now cause.

It was Noah.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You kissed her!" The anger and the pain that were fuelling Lee's words were unmistakable, especially to someone who had known Lee all of his life and had been witness to his temper tantrums growing up. But the way that Lee looked at Noah made him both infuriated yet sorrowful like he had truly cut into his brother when he never meant to hurt him.

It wasn't as if Noah had planned to kiss (Y/n), he didn't think she would be the one who would come out behind the curtain, he thought it would have Been one of the OMG girls that appeared before him. But he was stood there, ticket in hand in front of the podium when (Y/n) stumbled out wearing a blindfold and such a timid yet panicked smile on her face. He couldn't help but take her hands and guide her over to the stand and people were watching. It wasn't as if Noah could just turn around and leave her stood there all alone like that.

He had bought a ticket to kiss someone and it just so happened to be (Y/n), Noah didn't pre-plan this at all and Lee couldn't treat him as if he had.

"I didn't know it would be (Y/n) coming out there did I? What would you have me do, walk away and leave her there in front of everyone?"

Noah held his hands out at his sides to emphasise his point. No matter what Lee thought of him, Noah wasn't cruel and he would never hurt or embarrass someone like that, especially not (Y/n). She was like family, she was someone Noah liked and he wouldn't do that, he could joke around with her, play the odd prank or name call with her but he could never show her up like that.

"But you still kissed her, Noah! You can't do that again, you promised me you wouldn't go near her-"

"Jesus Lee, what is it with you and (Y/n)? It's not like you have a claim to her or that you even like her like that because you don't. I had a ticket, so I kissed her I'm not making a move on her."

The way that Noah rolled his eyes caused Lee's hands to instinctively curl up into fists making his short nails dig uncomfortably into the palms of his hands. He knew he had no claim to (Y/n) whatsoever and he didn't want to be that person that tried to control someone else, but he wanted to protect her. Lee loved (Y/n) as a sister, she was his best friend and he would do anything for her and that meant making sure Noah wouldn't break her. Noah didn't use people but he did play around with girls and if he played around with (Y/n) and messed with her heart Lee didn't know if she could take that kind of hurt.

This was his best friend and Lee couldn't afford to let anything happen to her, especially not when it would be his brother who would be hurting her.

"(Y/n) is fragile Noah... you're not good with fragile people-"

"What the Hell does that mean? I would never hurt (Y/n)-"

"You don't do relationships, you have flings and one night stands and that is fine but you can't do that to her. She's not well and she's special to me, I have to protect her. You promised me you wouldn't go near (Y/n) and you can't break that promise." Lee wanted to stomp his foot down on the ground like he used to do when he was a child in a fight with Noah that wasn't going the way he wanted it to.

(Y/n) was like Lee's twin sister, they grew up together, they knew one another inside out and back to front. He couldn't have anything happen to her and he looked out for her just like he knew she looked out for him. After everything that had happened, Lee felt that (Y/n) needed protecting for once and he was going to make sure that that happened.

He and Noah had a deal of sorts, when they were younger and (Y/n) used to come round they had rules. Noah couldn't try and join in their games and get involved and he couldn't try and steal (Y/n) away from Lee. She was the one thing that Lee had which he didn't have to share with his brother or that wasn't overshadowed by his big brother who got everything he wanted his entire life. Noah respected this wish because it was the only thing that Lee had ever asked of him. Now they were growing up, the rule had changed a little, Noah couldn't get close to (Y/n) and he couldn't try and make a move on her at all.

Lee still didn't want his brother to try and steal (Y/n) away from him but (Y/n) was fragile and he didn't want Noah to hurt her in any shape or form even if Noah never meant to hurt her Lee knew he would. That couldn't be a possibility.

"What do you mean she's not well?" Noah leaned his head forward, stooping down to be more of his brother's height as his eyes narrowed.

He understood what Lee was saying even if it hurt, Noah did end up having a lot of flings but that wasn't who or all that he was, there was so much more to him that no one bothered to look at. He also knew Lee felt like he was mustling in and taking his favourite toy away from him just to mess and tease with him when that wasn't Noah's intention at all. But he didn't know what Lee meant when he said (Y/n) wasn't well.

Of course Noah knew more than what everyone else at school did. Their families were so close that secrets were known and shared that the rest of the school and the world would never find out.

Noah knew that (Y/n)'s mother passed away when she was thirteen and then her older brother passed away last year and he knew how Andrew died just like everyone else at school did. But Lee and Noah were the only people in the whole school to know that (Y/n) was the one who found her brother when he died. They knew she went to therapy for that and they knew it affected her very badly, everyone else was simply under the impression Andrew passed away and (Y/n) had taken it badly.

But Noah didn't know if Lee was referring to that or not because he knew (Y/n) had been getting back on track and she was determined to hold her head high and not be pitied or looked at when they were at school.

So why was she unwell?

"Lee, what's wrong with (Y/n)?" A dangerous look seemed to pool in Noah's electric blue eyes that were darker than Lee had ever seen them. He wanted to know what Lee knew because it seemed important and he wanted to know if something serious was wrong with (Y/n) because he cared. Noah couldn't tell his brother just how much he cared for (Y/n) but he could pretend it was in a brotherly sense. After all, he knew Andrew and he wanted to look out for (Y/n) just as Andrew had done.

Lee turned his head to the left and glanced around at the carnival that was slowly beginning to dwindle down as the night went on. People were going home and becoming scarce which left very little for Lee to focus his sights on.

He knew it was something that (Y/n) didn't want the whole world to know, but he wondered if she wouldn't mind Noah knowing this secret. He knew about Andrew, he knew about the little secrets and family problems and issues because their families had always been so close since forever. It wouldn't necessarily be wrong for Lee to tell Noah and he was pretty sure his brother was going to drag it out of him eventually anyway.

"She's not eating, her dad's getting pretty worried. I've taken her out to the arcades and tried to get her to eat but she won't. If her dad thinks she's getting depressed again he'll think she's harming herself again and send her to therapy."

When (Y/n) lost her mother when she was thirteen she took that hard but losing Andrew too hit her in a whole different way and both brothers knew it. Andrew died almost a year ago and everyone had seen how quickly (Y/n) deteriorated, within a month she became depressed and she harmed herself only once but it was enough for her dad to send her to therapy. He had lost his wife and then his son, he couldn't lose his daughter too, he had very little family left, (Y/n) was all he had and he would be damned if he let anything happen to her.

Everyone had tried to get (Y/n) back on track and help her through this and she was slowly picking herself back up but she wasn't eating. She wasn't hungry, she didn't have an appetite and when Lee took her to the arcades she didn't eat many chips or even want their usual ice cream. Lee couldn't have her falling behind or dropping out or making herself ill, he had to help (Y/n) to keep pushing forward and he didn't want Noah pushing back her progress by getting in her head and hurting her.

"Lee... I'm not gonna hurt her I promise, I would never hurt (Y/n) you have my word."

"Thank you."

Noah would never hurt (Y/n), he wasn't that kind of person and he cared for her far too much to do that. But he wasn't saying that he wouldn't kiss (Y/n) again. Kissing her wouldn't hurt her because he didn't want to string her along or toy with her or have a fling with her because she was different. (Y/n) never flung herself at Noah's feet, she joked with him and teased him and she was shy and innocent and quiet but had a sly, cheeky side to her. She was different and intriguing to Noah and if he got the chance to kiss her like that again he wouldn't turn it down for Lee.

He wouldn't turn down that chance for anyone.

[worldoftom]

Riding My ☆ Three - Innocence (T)

pairing » actor Tom x female reader

words » 3.9k

warnings » drunken shenanigans, teasing kissing and groping, Tom’s sugar daddy kink

special thanks » @hypnotized-so-mesmerized​

→ previous » Two - Scarf (Y) || series masterpost || main masterlist

· ☆ ·

That same night — Late November

Tonight, everybody wanted to get as smashed as possible after several weeks of hard work and traveling all over the place, but Tom's instinct kicked in the minute you switched from beer to cocktails. He wasn’t trying to be overprotective, but he wanted to stay as conscious as possible because he knew how you got when you drank.

You don’t take alcohol that well, most likely because you don’t go out that often either. Tom knows the university party scene isn’t really your style and that one of your roommates keeps you company several nights of the week, both preferring Netflix over any type of social interaction.

This was necessary, though. Tonight was about forgetting one of the hardest terms you had to work through, and even to Tom, the thought that it was almost over but not quite was disconcerting. He’s aware of the several drafts for the numerous essays you need to work on for class, of exams being just around the corner, too, so he understands how much steam you needed to let off.

That was one of the reasons why he had decided to take this impromptu break. The original plan had been to relax in New York City with his twin brothers, but your frustrated rants over the phone were enough to force him into another decision. Harry trailed along, being the faithful brother he always is, which was how they ended up back home for what was only a five day weekend. In any other occasion, Tom would have never left the States, but yours is a different case. He doesn’t want to be that guy, but he is that guy anyway.

The guy who watched over you as you downed pint after pint, and as you went through several other types of liquor the whole night. As you got crazier and wilder than any of the other guys, getting tipsy rather quickly since you were already giddy from exhaustion and stress overload. Tom doesn’t mean to worry about it because he knows you can take care of yourself, but he couldn’t ignore the tug on his chest telling him to skip every other round as the group ordered more drinks.

And then you had to go and be a mouthy drunk, going between him and the rest of the guys comparing their noses. It was harmless and your drunken comments did make everybody laugh, but Tom practically had to shut you up before you got into a fight with one of the others. The only thing he didn’t do was covering your mouth with his hand, but he wanted to, especially after you made that joke — or what he hopes was a joke — about his dick. That was the final straw.

Now that your ride is here, you get into the car first, Tom right after, but you immediately pull him on top of you, making him squeak as you try to get settled into an only half comfortable position. First, you let him adjust himself the best he can, but he ends up half sprawled on your lap, the small of his back against your thigh and his head cradled in the crook of your elbow.

"I'm so lucky to have you, Tom. You're so pretty,” you hum, leaving his beanie in disarray when you try to caress from the back to the top of his head. He ends up removing it so it will stop tickling his ears, letting you scratch your nails over his new hairdo.

It was somewhat of a surprise, this buzz cut he's been sporting for the past few weeks, even to himself. You both knew he was going to do it almost as soon as he got the role he’s been working on, but honestly? He hadn’t expected to like it this much considering how his hair had been such a thing during his whole career.

“And I love this new look, even the shape of your head is pretty,” you add, stressing the last word as he beams at your compliments. He absolutely loves to hear this kind of praise, but you have a special way with him. There's a lilt to your tone that he adores, that leaves him swaying inside. Half coy, fully enamored.

"Missed your kisses." You lean down, but gulp back like you’re about to vomit. Tom pouts because he truly loves your kisses, drunken or not, and you flick his bottom lip with a thumb repeatedly until he smiles.

"Missed this nose, too." Your hand is hanging right in front of his face, but he stops you by grabbing your wrist. 

"Please don't start this again," Tom begs with a laugh, yours following right after.

"Why not? The boys aren't even here," you claim, booping his nose a couple of times if only for effect.

"You're the cutest. Drunk. Ever," Tom says, punctuating his words by copying your gesture on your own nose. You reel him up after the third time, your palms on the nape of his neck, your lips on his as he sits up straighter on your lap. A soft hum escapes you as if by accident.

"A little mouthy," he adds, smiling up at your squinty eyes, "but definitely the cutest."

"And you're the cutest human ever," you return, the last word a mere whisper against his mouth as it collects yours one more time. A little more eager this time as your hand somehow slips under his two layers of clothing.

"What are you doing?" Tom hisses lightly, pecking your lips again when the cold skin of your hand reaches up his warm side.

Tom curls up his legs in response, as you pull him even more onto your lap, his feet dangling from the edge as not to put his shoes on the seat.

"I'm a little tired," you trail off, brushing your lips against the corner of his mouth and dragging them across his cheek bone. Your hands keep moving up, ending in the middle of his chest as he inhales. You add, "I guess my hints have been way too smooth, Tom."

Tom huffs, half a laugh, half a questioning noise. "What sort of hints?"

"Hm, how about…" You smile mysteriously at him, then say, "Telling you how I was sleeping with one of your t-shirts over my pillow so it would smell like you?"

"Or, uhh," you continue, rubbing your fingers on his skin, so close to his nipple he even feels the curious goosebumps rising. "I don’t know, like, that night I kept sending you selfies when I couldn't sleep? I was half naked, I—" 

"Shhhh." Tom runs a thumb over your mouth so you won't reveal too much, the heel of his hand nestled under your jaw. He remembers that night, of course he does. Every photo you sent showed a little cleavage, but not even a hint of your nipples. "It was nothing explicit, though. Was I supposed to guess?"

"No, I guess not. But I did hope that it would leave you a little flustered," you clarify, pecking his mouth again as he frowns at you. “But you never even mentioned them, and I guess I—”

You sigh.

Tom certainly did understand those as hints, but given the softness of all of them, he never thought you were actually doing it on purpose.

“I even let you buy me that skirt before you left."

"The one from Zendaya's collection?" Tom asks, a frown heavy on his brow. You only nod in response. "How was that a hint?"

He found out you were in love with it purely by accident. He was being a mediator between you and an office lady from your university during a phone call while you were in the shower. After it ended, he saw your lock screen. It used to be a picture of Tessa during one of your walks with her, but at the moment it was a picture of a model wearing a striped shirt and a leather skirt from said collection.

He offered to buy it for you at least a dozen times, bringing it up at different occasions to see how you would react. Even after you changed the picture back to Tessa, using it as an argument for him not to buy the skirt anymore. Tom was adamant, however, no matter how intransigent you got, and eventually he won you over.

You received it a few days after he left for filming and he has yet to see you wear it, but that’s probably something he will have to talk you into doing quite a few times before it happens. He understands if you’re saving it for a special occasion, but you haven’t even brought it up in conversation. He hasn’t either, though. Until now.

"I thought youʼd just gotten tired of listening to me whine about it,” he points out.

"That, too, but mostly I was playing with your… hmmm…" You hesitate, playing with your bottom lip in between your teeth. Tom can see a flicker in your eyes, something he can’t quite place.

"With my what?" He pokes your mouth to make you stop before you draw blood.

"C'mon, Tom, you know you have a bit of a sugar daddy kink."

"What? I do not!" Tom protests, getting off of your lap and onto the seat.

He notices with a brief glance through the windshield that the ride will be over soon, and he definitely doesn’t want to finish this discussion in front of everybody else. Although the driver does send him a strange, half curious look through the rearview mirror.

“You do, but it's fine, I think it's kinda sexy,” you say with a soft laugh that bubbles in your throat before you settle back into the seat. “Sometimes I think I only say no because I like to hear you beg me to let you buy me stuff.”

“Oh, so it's the begging that you like, huh?” Tom teases, resting his fingers softly on one of your knees.

You nod, leaning in and nestling your face into his neck. Dropping a small kiss and a kitten lick on it, you move up to his ear and say, “I want to know how much you'll beg when I'm sucking you off.”

“Fucking hell.”

Tom has no idea where this is coming from. This isn’t the you he knows. It’s always so hard to extract any explicit words from you, but hearing these pour out of your mouth in a soft whisper, straight into his sensitive ear, it lights up a lot more of his senses that he expected. At least, tonight.

“Was that explicit enough for you?” you ask, pulling away but still playing with his ear, now with a couple of your fingers. It tickles like crazy, makes Tom tingle all over and a shiver run down the side of his body.

"Explicit, yeah," he hushes, nodding in agreement, "and a little bratty." Next he grabs you by the neck into a lingering kiss, yet you gulp and pull away with a hand on your stomach.

“Not tonight, though,” Tom says even though it was quite obvious. You’re clearly in no condition to have anything in your mouth except for a toothbrush and a gentle goodbye as you fall asleep.

“Suppose not,” you agree with a giggle. Tom is about to chastise you for it, but the car parks right outside the big gate to his house.

You open the door right away, but there’s something Tom wants to take care of first, so he asks you for his wallet. You keep it in your purse every time you go out together, and he helps you pull it out so he can tip the driver. It has to be done. Tipping him via the app would not be discreet enough. After all, Tom has exposed you — and himself — in an unprecedented way and forced the driver to listen to a bunch of stuff he didn’t sign up for.

“Here you go, mate,” he says, handing the guy way more than necessary. “Sorry about all of that.” The driver takes the cash in silence, intriguing eyes glued to Tom’s as he smiles and prepares himself to speak. Tom beats him to it, though. He's had enough bad experiences in the past with overly curious Uber drivers, so he puts his beanie back on and says, "Please no photos or anything else, all right?"

The guy nods in agreement. “Thanks, man, no problem.” Maybe he hasn’t even recognized Tom, but his discretion is appreciated in any case.

"Thanks, g'night."

Filing out of the car after you, and helping you get back on your feet as you stumble a little, probably for no reason other than being distracted, Tom looks up at the house. The lights are on through some of the windows, though it doesn’t seem to be any of the common areas. Tom slides a hand under your coat, walking past the gate and up the path to the door. He spreads it on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing the fabric of your jumper and he wonders if you can feel it.

You hum as you browse your purse for the key, so you certainly can feel what he’s doing. Tom presses his thumb a little harder, wanting you to understand that he’s paying attention to your hints. He wants to act upon them, too, but that isn’t something he can convey through any gesture. At least, not on his front porch.

You finally slide the key into the lock, but turn around before anything else, saying, “Before we go in. Tom.”

“Yeah?” he responds immediately, slipping his wallet into his jeans' back pocket just as your arms wrap around his neck. You place a peck on his lips before he can react, then on the corner of his mouth. By then, he has both hands on your back, one thumb still rubbing the fabric on the curve at the bottom of your spine, with the other pulling at it to try and uncover some skin.

“I meant what I said in the car,” you say before he succeeds.

Tom nods, gulping slowly with his eyes studying the obvious hunger in yours, wondering if you can hear his skin buzzing at the thought of having sex with you. Of seeing you undress for him, feeling your perfectly warm skin under his bare hands and so much more. Wondering if you can feel his crotch responding unashamedly to the glint in your gaze and the tease of your smile as you lean in, collect his lips again and murmur onto them.

“I have been thinking about it.” You pause to swallow down something else in your throat. “A lot.”

Your words are teasing caresses on his mouth. Tom licks his lips to savor them, clearing his mind of any images as you speak. “Maybe it's because I miss you, y’know? Maybe because you're so far away and unattainable, in a way. Maybe it's just because you've always set this fire inside me.”

“Please stop saying those things,” Tom decides to intervene, stopping the grunt on the bottom of his throat before he releases it. One of his hands scratches at your hot skin while the other slides to your side over the clothes, squeezing the flesh lightly. Almost like a warning. “Or I'm gonna hump you right here.”

Tom pecks your lips, the groan slipping through his no matter how hard he tried to repress it. “You're freaking beautiful, do you know that?”

“That’s just drunk talk,” you say, cradling the back of his head with one hand, the other ghosting right over his crotch. His lower belly twinges at the closeness. Your knee brushes against him, too, just as your lips fall onto his.

He grunts again. There are so many goddamned things he wants to do to you. Not right here, of course. And not tonight either. You both have been drinking and he wants to do this right with you — he always wants to do right by you, too — but this is no longer a hint. This is a cry to be touched, like you’re as desperate as he is.

“Let's just,” Tom says, pulling away from the kiss, despite his hand insisting on moving from your back to your neck. His nerves are fizzing too hard, but he needs to stop himself before he does something he regrets.

“Shit,” he says breathlessly, his hand swiping down to grab your wrist as it is on your way to touch his crotch.

You smile up at him, eyes blown and sort of pleading. “Are you gonna touch yourself tonight?”

Tom groans and presses a kiss onto your lips, mostly for the sake of getting it out of his system fast because soon he'll be exploding from the breathy tone of your voice.

“Fuck,” Tom says when you mouth on his neck. He shakes his head to wish this feeling off of him, grabbing both of your hands in one of his while the other stretches forward, reaching behind you for the key in the lock to open the door.

“I wonder if you’d let me watch,” you say when he brushes past you with a short peck. He wants it to tell you to stop before he has to do it with words again, but you’re relentless tonight for some reason.

He likes to think it’s because he came back home, because you miss him so much that you don't want to leave him alone during his break, but all of a sudden there’s only one image in his mind. Your naked body under his. Collecting your gaping mouth until you moan and come undone under his doing. He wants you spread open for him, wants to take his time with you; he craves to make you realize these taunting kisses are mere child's play compared to what he really wants to do to you. To how much he wishes he could wreck you.

“I’ve dreamed about that before,” you whisper into the back of his ear, making him grunt at the hot breath against his sensitive skin. “Made me a tad curious, is all.”

Tom widens his eyes at your words, wondering if you mean him touching himself or if he inadvertently said something out loud. Yet he disguises his confusion by turning the key and letting himself in before you.

The first thing he does is to take off his beanie and throw it onto the console table in the hallway, your purse landing next to it in sync. The second is to throw himself at you, mouth ajar, swallowing your gasp. The both of you go through the process of removing shoes and coats, barely hanging then in the cupboard under the stairs, all the while clinging to each other with hands and teeth. But finally he gets to grasp your wrist and pull you up the stairs, eyes strategically focused, as you giggle again. Not in the goofy way you sometimes do, but clearly out of nervousness.

The only light on inside the house switches off as if on cue, just as Tom groans yet again and reels you in into him. His mouth collects yours perfectly as if it knows its way around your face by instinct. He kisses you hard while your hands glide down into the back pockets of his jeans, squeezing his bum a little, and backs you up past the silent doors of his roommates.

Pulling you by your scarf into his bedroom, at last, he pushes you against the door with uncontrolled strength to close it and kiss you again. Not too deep, not too long, but just enough to leave you wondering. To test what you’ll do. If this brazen behavior is the drunk you or the real you.

You reach in for another hot kiss, much more despair in it this time. It makes him moan and roll his eyes, makes his cock pang inside his pants. It makes him aware of the weight of his semi.

He doesn't want to do anything at the moment and he has no idea what made you so shameless tonight, but he’s savoring it. He’s quietly letting you seduce him, giving in even though he shouldn’t, kissing you more fiercely, tongue across the roof of your mouth and his teeth sinking into your lip next.

Pulling away to gulp once more, your fist pressed to your lips this time, you mutter, “Sorry.”

“It's for the best, I shouldn't be indulging you like this when we're both drunk,” Tom says, words turning into a groan when your leg presses up again. He grinds into it almost against his will. “What's gotten into you tonight? Holy fuck.”

“I just—”

You kiss him again, not as urgent as before, but sweet and soft as you always do. He feels you tense up under his touch, hands gently wrapping around your arms, and he knows what it is. The drunk high is most likely passing and the realization of what is going on must have hit you all of a sudden.

“Please don’t be embarrassed. I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have called you out on it like that,” Tom explains in a whisper, as gentle as he can manage, brushing his mouth into the curve of your jaw. The kisses he spreads across it are some of the most tender he’s ever given you, wanting to tell you something more than his words ever could. “You're allowed to have urges. Fuck, I long for you every goddamned day.”

“Tom,” you practically growl, the 'o' dragged and whiny, before you kiss him again. He pushes you further against the door, hands tight around your waist lifting your body up. He wants you to wrap your legs around him, he even grasps one of your thighs to help you up, but you don't budge. In the end, he lets you fall back to the floor.

“What is it?” he whispers, hovering over your lips. He can sense your reservations and discomfort crackling through your body like static.

“It's nothing,” you dismiss him, but Tom sees right through you. So he grabs your hands and pushes the palms against his torso, right on the hem of his jumper. The tips of your thumbs hook under it and he feels them on his skin, lower belly quivering at the sensation right away.

“It's okay,” Tom says with a soft peck on your cheek bone. A bit of encouragement, hopefully. Not to do anything in particular, but to let you know it’s okay. He isn’t going to judge. If anything, he’s going to commend you for your candor. “It's just me.”

You nod and your hands slide completely under his clothes, up his sides yet again, the temperature shock creating goose bumps on his skin. Tom doesn't want to pressure you any more, though. He knows you will talk to him in due time, whenever you’re ready. At least, he trusts you enough to do that and hopes everything he does shows you that he’s willing to listen.

“Let’s just go to bed, then, yeah?” he offers with a gentler peck on your lips. You simply nod and rub your lips together, eyes on his for a fierce second.

You retreat your hands soon after, keeping them to yourself now, eyes glancing down again, and Tom recognizes the signs of the apparent innocence he always associated with you. An innocence that, although endearing, after what happened tonight, might be easier to corrupt than he ever thought.

· ☆ ·

→ next » Four - Chair (Y) * || series masterpost || main masterlist

[jlalafics]

Could you please reblog your lesbian!Peeta story for me

Sure! I hope this is the one you’re thinking of!

_______

“You can shut off the lights now.”

Delly Cartwright, Peeta’s friend and business manager, looked to her and gave a sympathetic smile.

“You did well for a new business owner, Peeta,” she continued. Gathering some of the go-backs, Delly started to head over to the racks. “You opened a record shop. It wasn’t exactly going to be busy every day, but from a business standpoint, you did well for your first week.”

Peeta gathered her golden locks into a ponytail and took the broom next to her to sweep up.

“I guess you’re right,” Peeta replied.

She had fair sales for her opening week; it had always been her dream to open a shop of her own and her love for vinyl clinched her decision to open a record store. There was hope of expanding to a used bookstore, but it seemed that it would be awhile before that would happen.

“Don’t you have a husband to get home to?” Peeta asked her friend. “Thom must be annoyed that you’re spending all your time with me.”

“Thom wouldn’t have a full-service coffee bar if it weren’t for his wife’s business savvy,” Delly retorted. She pushed herself onto the wood counter. “He can sacrifice time so I can help out one of my best friends.”

“Really though.” Returning the broom to its place, Peeta met her friend’s light eyes. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Suddenly, Delly’s mouth formed into a smirk. “I mean it wouldn’t hurt if you had a partner to support and help you out. I met this great girl at Thom’s bar—”

“You know what—” Peeta lifted her petite friend off the counter easily, placing her by the front door. “—I think you should go home. You’re obviously exhausted.”

“You win this round, Mellark,” Delly declared with a chuckle. “We’ll see you for Sunday brunch at our place.”

Stepping out, Peeta watched her friend get into her car and drive off before walking back into the store.

Sighing, she let herself admit that she was lonely.

It had been two years since her last relationship and about six months since her last date. Her brothers were both in long-term relationships; Dean, her eldest brother, married to Olivia, his college girlfriend, with two kids and one on the way while Rye, the middle child, engaged to Johanna, one of Peeta’s closest friends and her former roommate.

While she, the youngest and only girl, was still single.

Peeta wasn’t looking for just anyone.

Whoever she was had to be more.

So, for the time being, she would just have to focus on getting the store up and running.

++++++

Locking up the store, Peeta buttoned her rust peacoat and headed towards her bus stop. Her place was fifteen minutes away—just a few blocks—but the fall season had caused the city to go dark once it hit six in the evening.

“Hey girl!”

The group of guys from the bar across the street called out. There were a few catcalls and she ignored it, speeding up her pace towards the bus stop at the end of the block. Her heart stuttered in nervousness as she heard the footfalls heading towards her.

Suddenly, one of the guys was standing in front of her. “Where you heading, sweetheart?”

Peeta didn’t reply, only taking in a description of the guy…mid-twenties, dark beard, medium height, sharp dark eyes wearing a grey hoodie, black tank, and dark jeans.

So, basically any random guy.

Dean was a cop and he had always taught her what to do if she was in a situation like this. However, it didn’t seem to be helping as she found herself surrounded by the rest of the group.

So, Peeta went for Rye’s method and fully rushed at the guy in front of her, trying to knee him in the groin.

He pushed her and Peeta was knocked down, the back of her head hitting the concrete.

There was the pain of impact…and then darkness.

++++++

“Miss Mellark…can you open your eyes?” Peeta blinked, her vision blurred and the white light causing her eyes to close again. “Take your time.”

She followed the kind voice, allowing herself to adjust before opening her eyes once more.

“There you go,” the voice said gently. “You gave us a scare when you came in.”

Her vision cleared and the warmest set of eyes greeted her. Almond-shaped and dove grey, the eyes were set in a heart-shaped face along with a pert nose and rose lips, her skin was a soft olive and her raven hair was tied back in a neat braid.

“Where am I?” she asked as the bed was slowly elevated.

“You are in the hospital,” the woman in the blue scrubs informed her. “My name is Katniss and I’m your nurse. You were mugged; the perp got your credit cards but left the rest of your wallet since there wasn’t any money. Can you tell me your name?”

“Peeta. Peeta Mellark.”

Katniss looked at her in confusion. “Your ID says Pieta Mellark.”

“When I was born, my parents tried to teach my brother Rye how to say me name properly, Pee-et-ta, but he couldn’t get it and kept pronouncing my name as Pee-ta. So, it kind of stuck.”

The nurse chuckled. “I like both your names.” Katniss looked over her chart and then to her. “We’re just making sure that you’re CT scan comes out clean and then we can release you. Do you have anyone that we can call? Your family?”

“I don’t want to worry my parents and they’re an hour away, and my brothers have families,” she explained. “Once I’m released, I’ll just head on home.”

“Your name fits you,” Katniss remarked. “Pieta means compassion. A lot of people would milk themselves getting injured, but not you. You’re more concerned about everyone else around you.”

“Give me a day or two and I’ll be at home, feeling sorry for myself,” Peeta replied. “Your name is a plant.”

The nurse grinned. “How did you know?”

“When we were all kids, my parents took us camping,” she explained. “And my Dad told me that if for some reason, I got lost in the woods then I just needed to find you to survive.”

Katniss blushed, her cheeks flooding with color, and Peeta found herself breathless in the prettiness of it all.

“I suppose that could also apply to non-camping situations,” Katniss responded. “Get some rest, Peeta, and I’ll check up on your results.”

++++++

“I’m really alright, Haymitch,” Peeta assured her business partner on the phone. “They kept me overnight for observation, but they didn’t see anything in the CT scan.”

“We should install cameras in the front,” the man insisted. “You could’ve been killed or assaulted!”

“Well, they checked if there was any trauma down there and everything seemed right as rain,” she assured him. “My vagina is perfectly intact.”

There was a cough and she turned to see Katniss standing before, a black bomber jacket over her scrubs and her hair down in long waves.

“I really didn’t need to hear that,” the man muttered. “Just call me when you get home, okay? Also, get an Uber and put it on our business credit card.”

“Ah…you should probably call about that,” Peeta replied. “Some of my credit cards are missing.”

“I’m right on it,” Haymitch responded. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll open the store tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Hanging up, Peeta stuffed her phone into her jean pocket before turning to the woman. “Getting off?”

Katniss looked to her in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Work. You off from your shift?”

The blush invaded her lovely face and she nodded quickly. “Oh yeah! Just heading out. How about you?”

“Yeah, just needed to check in with Haymitch, my partner,” Peeta explained.

“Oh.” Katniss’ expression dropped. “Why wouldn’t your boyfriend pick you up?”

Peeta snorted at the idea.

“Haymitch is my business partner.” She looked to the woman beside her. “You heading home to your boyfriend?”

The woman shook her head. “I’ve got some leftover pasta and A Walk to Remember on Netflix, but that’s about it.”

“Would you want to join me for a cup of coffee?” Peeta found herself asking. “Thom, my best friend’s husband owns a coffee shop a few blocks down. It will be on me—or on Delly, my best friend—your coffee, I mean…”

Shit, Peeta was going about this all wrong. She didn’t even know if Katniss was into girls.

“Sure.”

Her head snapped up at Katniss’ response and Peeta smiled. “Okay.”

They headed onto the sidewalk in front of the hospital. It was a beautiful morning, chilled but brimming with potential to be a gorgeous day of clear skies and temperate weather.

“How long have you been a nurse?” Peeta asked as they headed down towards Thom’s coffee bar.

“About three years,” Katniss said. “Got this job right out of school. My mom was head nurse at the hospital before retiring a few years ago and I guess nepotism worked in my favor. I might actually be a really crappy nurse.”

“No, you definitely aren’t,” Peeta argued. “You have a natural empathy.”

“How so?”

“When I woke up, I was scared as hell,” she told the woman next to her. They stopped at the crosswalk and Peeta met Katniss’ gaze. “But, when I heard your voice, I knew that I would be okay. You made me feel safe.”

“That’s a lot to put on a girl,” Katniss said quietly. “But I’m glad that I could help.”

Their eyes met and it was like a magnetic force that Peeta found her hand tucking back a tendril of Katniss’ hair behind her ear. Her fingers lingered, feeling the softness of her dark waves and Katniss’ breath caught at the gesture.

Her hand covered Peeta’s and the sensation drew a sharp gasp from Peeta’s mouth.

It had been a long time since she had felt like this.

Stepping towards Katniss, she waited to see if the woman would retreat.

However, Katniss remained still, her mouth parted and her eyelids going half-lidded as Peeta close the space between.

The kiss was careful, her mouth slanting over Katniss’ gently. The feeling of her soft lips caused a groan to draw up from the pit of Peeta’s stomach and escape between their mouths.

It was scary but exhilarating all at once and Peeta never wanted to let her go.

However, Katniss hummed against her lips and reluctantly she pulled away.

“I probably wasn’t supposed to do that,” Peeta told her.

Katniss looked disappointed. “Oh, okay.”

“I mean not without taking you out on a date first.”

Katniss let out a relieved laugh. “Well, we just cut out the needless tension of the first kiss, didn’t we?”

“I guess so,” Peeta replied, taking her hand. “So…”

‘…would like to stay indefinitely?’

“Would you like to have coffee first and then dinner later?”

“And, between then?” Katniss asked, her thumb caressing the top of Peeta’s hand.

“Whatever we want, I have all day.”

I have forever for you.

“Okay.” Katniss beamed. “Let’s start with the coffee.”

[mostlymovieswithmax]

Movies I watched in June

Now I think I’m comfortably in a rhythm to get these posts out. For one, I’m writing up short reviews either straight after watching a movie or sometimes it might take a few days. But June was a fairly good month in terms of the amount of films I watched. I got to go to the cinema quite a bit which is always fun. Anyway, let’s get on with it! If you’re looking for something good to watch (or maybe even something bad), I hope this list can help in some way to introduce you to new and different movies that maybe you’ve never heard of, or were thinking of checking out. Here is every film I watched from the 1st to the 30th of June 2021.

Bo Burnham: Inside (2021) - 10/10 Everyone was going off about how great this film is. An hour and a half of Bo Burnham in lockdown, singing songs and being upset is definitely a powerful hook and I have to agree with the general consensus because Inside blew me away. More thoughts on this in my podcast: The Sunday Movie Marathon episode 34.

Bo Burnham: Make Happy (2016) - 7/10 After watching Inside, I figured I’d rewatch some of Burnham’s older stand-up shows on Netflix. Make Happy is a lot of fun, injected with a lot of introspection from Burnham that really makes the special stand out, despite a lot of gags that just didn’t land for me.

Bo Burnham: What. (2013) - 6/10 It’s plain to see just how much Bo Burnham has grown over the years and how he has honed his comedy and music. ‘What.’ is a good stepping stone in the comedian’s career, showcasing loads of promise in him from a young age. There are some jokes that haven’t aged as well and some that straight up dragged, but overall the show is still enjoyable.

The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It (2021) - 3/10 Packed theatre for this one, obviously. People love a Conjuring movie, and I’d also say people love a good scare… but this movie isn’t scary, or good for that matter. More thoughts on episode 35 of the podcast.

The Conjuring (2013) - 6/10 After the horrendously disappointing debacle that was the third Conjuring movie, I decided to watch James Wan’s original movie and man, if this wasn’t better in literally every way. I don’t tend to love James Wan movies but I can’t deny he’s got so much talent in how he makes movies and it makes The Conjuring a lot more fun to see competent filmmaking in the horror genre in a way that actually creates an eerie atmosphere with creative uses of camera-work and editing.

A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) - 8/10 Normally I’m not big into the old slasher movies. I appreciate that for the time, perhaps they hit differently, but now I just don’t tend to connect with them. Wes Craven’s ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’ is a bit of an exception. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not particularly scary, though it does employ a lot of interesting techniques and designs. Undeniably, the design for Fred Krueger is a staple in cinema, with the striped jumper, hat, scarred face and knives for fingers not leaving the mind of the general public any time soon. Elm Street doesn’t have too many kills but when it does, it is so effective and fun to watch. Craven was one of the greats, truly.

One Cut of the Dead (2017) - 8/10 This has to be one of the most engaging zombie movies I’ve seen in a long time. There’s a lot to spoil with One Cut of The Dead but I won’t go into that here. It is clever and funny, subverting expectations in ways I really didn’t expect. I really cannot recommend it enough.

Dave Chappelle: Sticks & Stones (2019) - 8/10 Since we’re watching Chappelle's Show for episode 45 of the podcast, I wanted to get an idea for what I was in for, so I watched Dave Chappelle’s stand-up show from a couple of years ago. Yeah, really funny, which I suppose is what you want from a stand-up special, but what makes it better is Chappelle’s commentary on the world at large and how he’s able to combine humour with intelligent criticism.

Fear(s) of the Dark (2008) - 4/10 A few years ago I think I watched this animated black and white anthology film on a New Year's Day when I had foolishly decided to pull an all-nighter and then go out with mates for ice cream. Never again. But I’d forgotten what I thought of this movie and decided to get the DVD for cheap on eBay. Perhaps I am doomed to watch Fear(s) of the Dark only when I am tired because I popped this on when it was nearing midnight. I was lucid enough to understand what I was watching though… and it was quite boring. These short films emulate the filmmakers’ nightmares - an interesting premise in theory, but pretty weak on execution.

The Bourne Identity (2002) - 3/10 We marathoned the first three Bourne movies for The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, episode 36 so check that out for my expanded thoughts on this, the best Bourne of the three.

The Bourne Supremacy (2004) - 2/10 Immediately after, we did the deep dive into Supremacy, the second Bourne and the worst of the three (albeit by a very slim margin). Check out episode 36 for more.

The Bourne Ultimatum (2007) - 2/10 I really couldn’t care less about these terrible movies. It was a horrible chore to sit through them. Ultimatum was also rubbish. More gripes and discussion in episode 36 of the podcast.

The Father (2021) - 10/10 Another trip to the cinema for this masterpiece. I tried very hard not to sob loudly in the theatre where aside from myself, the audience totalled three people. More discussion of The Father in episode 36 the podcast.

Drag Me To Hell (2009) - 2/10 I’m pretty shocked that Sam Raimi directed this. Usually when I watch one of his films, I can see his staple of fun gore, practical effects, crazy camera movements… but there was none of that here. It just felt like a really bad horror, indistinguishable from the regular affair, with no personality or passion. Drag Me To Hell might even have been one of those movies I’d avoided in the past when I was younger because it seemed too scary but no, it was just boring and bad and I feel like there’s something I’m not getting out of this that other people seem to be.

Moonrise Kingdom (2012) - 8/10 At this point, I feel I have to admit Wes Anderson as perhaps my second favourite director. His movies are just so nice and beautiful to watch. Moonrise Kingdom is a quirky love story between two kids and honestly, with any other director, could have been handled poorly because the story is quite simple. But Anderson injects so much of his signature style and personality into the film. A powerhouse of actors with the likes of Frances McDormand, Bill Murray, Bruce Willis and Tilda Swinton, among a few of Anderson’s regulars, make Moonrise Kingdom a breeze. Good for a dark day to lift the spirits.

Nobody (2021) - 8/10 I needed something to fill an otherwise uneventful day, so I hopped on a bus and booked a ticket for Ilya Naishuller’s new action movie, Nobody. The film started and to my annoyance, the lights in the theatre were still on. When I go to the cinema I don’t really want to see the other people sitting around me, so I got up from my seat, abandoning the first two minutes of the film to find a member of staff to turn the lights off. After showing them that the lights were in fact still on, I took to my seat and watched the movie for what felt like a little while before the lights went off. Nobody is a really fun action movie. Perhaps similar in a lot of ways to John Wick, but with more personality to the main character. More thoughts on episode 37 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

The Darjeeling Limited (2007) - 8/10 After procuring the Criterion blu-ray from my local hmv, I delved into all the supplements it had to offer, including a making-of documentary, chats with the director, and a gallery of polaroid pictures from when they were shooting the film in India. The Darjeeling Limited is perhaps not peak Wes Anderson, but I do kind of love it. It makes me want to go on a journey to another country with my brother and sister, perhaps in ten to fifteen years. Here, the main characters are three brothers who travel to India seeking some kind of spiritual experience. Things don’t seem to work out that way, however, because I’m not sure how spiritual an experience you can have when you plan out an itinerary to schedule it. Fantastic performances all round and of course, beautiful direction and cinematography.

Face/Off (1997) - 3/10 Was I supposed to laugh? Maybe I was just too tired but I really couldn’t stand Face/Off. It didn’t feel particularly special and despite a couple of fun ideas, it was mostly quite boring.

Luca (2021) - 5/10 The new Pixar movie leaves a lot to be desired. The animation is really second to none and I can’t fault how beautiful the movie looks, more so when it’s set in this little Italian town than under the sea. The story is so uninspired though, with the basic premise being that the protagonists want a Vespa so they enter a competition to win the money to buy one. Also they’re fish that turn into people on dry land. Maybe that’s enough for some people, but I couldn’t shake the familiarity of Luca. It never went in any interesting directions and basically did exactly what I figured it would do. I don’t believe it’s out here to subvert expectations but I would like some creativity when it comes to the writing. Perhaps if I watched it again, I might like it less. It was pretty dull.

Punch-Drunk Love (2002) - 10/10 I’m a little disappointed with the Criterion blu-ray for Punch-Drunk love. It’s supplements host a couple of low-quality deleted scenes that were clearly deleted for a reason, and some weird artsy music videos that incorporated footage from the movie. I was quite shocked at how low-effort it all seemed. The movie itself is fantastic though and I do believe it to be Adam Sandler’s best performance (and I really liked Uncut Gems). He portrays a man who is constantly put down by his family, clearly has some kind of social disability, and on top of it all he’s getting scammed by a sex line. Amongst all this, he’s trying to navigate a new relationship and it’s so sweet to watch all the interactions between Sandler and Emily Watson. It’s a perfect melding of romance, comedy and anxiety, beautifully directed by Paul Thomas Anderson.

Fargo (1996) - 9/10 Another movie you wouldn’t expect to be so funny, especially since it’s based on this horrific true story about murder, deceit and money. But the Coen brothers know how to handle it. Excellent performances, beautiful colour palette, and a story that just gets more and more insane as it goes.

House (1977) - 7/10 House (or, Hausu) was a recommendation for episode 37 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast so check that out for more discussion. Generally speaking, this Japanese horror/comedy was bonkers. Insanely creative and abstract (which at points can detriment the film) with an almost Balamory-esque presentation. I was happy to find that the comedy was not lost on me at all; this is a hilarious film, albeit maybe not all the time.

The Princess Bride (1987) - 10/10 I reviewed this in my May wrap-up but this time around, I had recommended The Princess Bride for the podcast, the discussion for which you can listen to in episode 37. It all clicked this time around. It is such a fun, warm movie with a lot of laughs and superb production.

This Is Spinal Tap (1984) - 8/10 Another Rob Reiner joint, a few years before The Princess Bride. This Is Spinal Tap is lauded as a masterpiece in comedic cinema and I might agree; this movie is hilarious. Shot in mockumentary fashion, it follows a band playing shows and trying to get gigs, coupled with the inevitable screw-ups of live performance and creative disagreements. It lost me every now and again but it’s still a must-watch.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996) - 6/10 A decent Disney flick but certainly not their best. One highlight includes the villain singing a lament about wanting to have sex with Esmerelda and calling her a witch for giving him a boner.

Ponyo (2008) - 4/10 Not sure if I’ve ever disliked a Miyazaki movie before but I did not vibe with Ponyo. It came across as very baby and as such, there really wasn’t much to read into. The animation is fantastic as always but so much of it felt specifically tailored to a younger crowd.

Roman Holiday (1953) - 9/10 Classic romance at its best. I had heard on a podcast that this was the sexiest movie the guest had ever seen and while maybe not in the traditional sense of the word, I do get where they’re coming from. I was tearing up with just how lovely it all was, following a princess who runs away and spends the day with a man she meets in Rome (where it was shot on location), doing all the things she’s wanted to do but never could because of royal responsibilities. Fantastic performances from Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck who sell the chemistry of the characters so well.

F9 (2021) - 2/10 I’ve never seen any of the Fast & Furious movies and after watching the ninth in the series, I don’t want to. This is basically the Vin Diesel show; we watch him drive cars fast and punch people a lot. Wow! I don’t really understand what it (and forgive the pun) driving people to see these movies if they’re all in this same vein. As far as I can tell, F9 is the goofiest of the series so far and I’ll admit I had a chuckle or two at some of the truly implausible moments, such as a part where one of the team gets shot by about ten men with machine guns, yet manages to kill them all without being affected by the bullets… but overall, in this two-and-a-half-hour experience, I was largely bored.

Shaolin Soccer (2001) - 7/10 I love this movie! Shaolin Soccer is so much fun; it is goofy and out there and completely crazy, all by design. Steven Chow knew what he was making when he set out to craft this insane story of a group of guys using Kung-Fu to play football. The basic story itself is nothing new but it’s elevated by the infectious comedy and implausibility of what’s happening. Balls are kicked into space and across fields so fast the very ground is torn asunder. A man eats an egg off a dirty shoe. This is cinema.

Casino Royale (2006) - 7/10 I had seen a trailer at the cinema for the new Bond movie and I have to say, I’ve never really given 007 the time of day, aside from a few of the very first movies I’d tried watching a while ago. But the new trailer kind of got me hyped, so I wanted to watch all of the Craig era Bond movies, starting with Casino Royale. I had a great time! Even though there’s not loads of fighting or weapons or fast cars, the meat of the movie actually comes from this poker game Bond is playing against the villain, played brilliantly by Mads Mikkelsen. I was surprised to witness a bit of cock-and-ball torture in this 12-rated movie but I would be lying if I said it didn’t stick with me.

Quantum of Solace (2008) - 5/10 Immediately after Casino Royale, I jumped into the second of Daniel Craig’s Bond movies, Quantum of Solace. Sadly it’s quite weak, with not much going on aside from the general Bond fare. Mathieu Amalric’s villain lacked a lot of menace or motivation and generally, I’m not super worried about a brilliant story in a Bond movie, but even the action felt weak in this. Quantum of Solace didn’t exactly upset me but it failed to wow me in any way either. The saving grace of the movie is certainly Daniel Craig as the hero, capturing Bond and what he’s supposed to be.

Skyfall (2012) - 6/10 A marked improvement from its predecessor, Sam Mendes helms Skyfall, Craig’s third outing as Bond. Skyfall delves into Bond’s past as he seems to be slipping a bit, not as much the expert operative he once was. It would have been nice to see more of his fall from grace, as they don’t really show us how he’s become less efficient as much as they give other characters expository dialogue telling us how he drinks and does drugs and is haunted by childhood trauma. For me, that’s where the meat of the story lies and I would have preferred more of a character piece if indeed they were delving into that side of the character anyway. That being said, the fights are still better choreographed than the last instalment and the colour grading and scenery is often very visually interesting. Everything in Skyfall is better than its predecessor and it’s surely thanks to Sam Mendes who does a great job at directing.

Howl's Moving Castle (2004) - 8/10 Another go round for Howl's Moving Castle, as this was a recommendation for my podcast, The Sunday Movie Marathon. My opinion, I feel, is unchanged. It's a fantastic film, and you can listen to more of what I have to say in episode 37. The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 2 - 3/10 A pretty poor end to a poor series of movies. I'm surprised I've watched the Twilight movies as many times as I have but I also know I'll watch them again. Part 2 I watched with the YMS commentary track on YouTube which, again made the experience a lot better. But otherwise the series seemed to get better as it went along… until the last movie. Ultimately my biggest problem with it is that nothing actually happens and the plot feels like a late addition rather than a natural progression of the story. It’s basically a whole movie of set-up to a payoff that doesn’t even canonically happen. A big thing with YA adaptations in this era was making a final book into two movies, regardless as to whether it needed that much time or not. Breaking Dawn does not need to be two movies at two hours each. About ten new characters are introduced here and the film is afraid of killing even one of them off. It's the last movie! We're not going to see these characters again! Kill some of them! There's just no emotional weight to any of it and I hate to say I was disappointed with the ending because I have such low expectations for these films but man, this was so unsatisfying.

Frances Ha (2012) - 8/10 Life is hard. And I hate this movie because it shows me so much of what terrifies me about being alive. And I love this movie because it shows me so much of what I’m alive for. Noah Baumbach’s brutally honest depiction of growing up and fending for yourself struck me in a way I wasn’t expecting and I think it’s because I’m at a point in my life where I’m worrying a lot about how it’s all going to turn out. The titular character is burdened with the stress of working low-paid jobs and paying rent while juggling school and making time for her passion of dancing as she tries to connect with people she’s lost, as temporary friends and housemates come and go. She feels like a lonely character despite often being around a lot of people. Frances Ha is fantastic and heartbreaking and uplifting… but it made me feel bad so I hate it.

[svnflowervol666]

Uncertainty (Frat boy!Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Frat boy!Harry, use of alcohol, mentions of sexual assault, Harry being a sweet angel because I can’t picture him being anything else.

Author’s Note: Another request that waranted its own post! I wrote this one with a bit of a possibilty for continuation (if anyone is interested??) Anyways, thank you the anon for the request! Frat boy!Harry makes my heart scream. Let me know what else you’d like for me to crank out for you lovelies! Take care and tpwk.

Of all places Harry had expected to bump into her outside of class, his frat house on a Friday night was definitely at the bottom of the list. One minute, he was taking shots of tequila with his bed buds in the dining room and the next, he found his whole world coming to a halt when he saw her work her way through the sweaty, intoxicated crowd and move towards the kitchen for a drink. He swore the music stopped and everything around him had ceased to exist in the moment he saw her throw her head back in laughter at something her friend said, exposing her neck and chest to the open air.

“Who’s she?” one of his fraternity brothers asked with a nudge to Harry’s shoulder, clearly aware that Harry had temporarily abandoned the conversation he was having to gawk at the party’s newest arrival.

Harry snapped out of his daze in which he was staring at her bare legs that shimmered in the dim light of the frat house due to her lotion and a thin veil of sweat to see his brother staring at him as if he was the dumbest man alive.

“Hmm? Oh, her?” Harry pointed towards the girl in question with the neck of the beer bottle he had been nursing on all night.

“I sit by her in calculus... Just didn’t think I’d ever see her ‘round here is all.”

The boy standing beside Harry nodded hesitantly, though he was far too intoxicated to press him any further. Harry would never admit it to anyone as long as he lived, but he had quite the soft spot for this girl. He had no explanation for the way he felt inside when she smiled at him every time she took her seat before class. He had no explanation for how bummed he was when she’d skip a day, or how relieved he was when she’d burst into the room late with a large iced coffee in her hands. He used any and every excuse he could to get her to talk to him, to say anything to him in that voice of hers that he found to be sickly sweet.

But she didn’t run with the people that he ran with. She didn’t spend every weekend blackout drunk and wake up in a stranger’s bed that she knew she’d never see again. She was shy and quiet for the most part and was very much the polar opposite of everyone Harry went for both in terms of friendships and in one night stands. Which was exactly why Harry could never figure out what it was that he wanted from her. Did he want to shag her a few times and then pretend as if she never existed? Did he just want to be her friend that he could lay around with and watch stupid romantic comedies on Netflix with? Did he want to, dare he say it, date her? Take her out for nice dinners and fall asleep holding her in his arms? He didn’t know the answer to any of those questions. She was simply different than all of the people Harry had associated himself with in college. And Harry, as scared as he was to say or even think it, liked that.

One might think that now would be the perfect opportunity for Harry to get to know this girl that he had been tied up over for the past several months given that she was attending a party at his own frat house, but he couldn’t bring himself to approach her. Instead, he drowned his feelings in shots of bitter liquor and half-assed games of beer pong. He figured that whatever had enticed her to come to this party certainly didn’t involve him, and it was best that he kept his distance. She’d passed by him a few times to refill the red, plastic cup she clutched like an accessory, but she never once looked his way.

Several hours had passed since her arrival and Harry, being the heavy partier that he was, had almost completely forgotten about her. The bass-heavy music pumped through his veins along with the icy burn of whatever he was drinking at the moment, and he was too preoccupied with the tiny blonde grinding her backside against his front to remember that she was even present at this party. He had forgotten she existed. That was until he broke away from the buzzing bodies and lager-soaked living room floor to use the restroom.

The downstairs powder room was always taken, so he opted for the one upstairs where all of the bedrooms were. When he pushed open the door, he was greeted by quite the debacle. His blood ran cold and every bit of alochol that worked to keep him at a happy buzz had left his system. The girl from his math class was there, and she was perched on the lip of the bathtub with her arms crossed. She was there, in his bathroom, but she was not alone.

“C’mon, sexy,” the inebriated, smelly man beside her pleaded, “Just come back to my room for a bit. Promise I’ll make you feel good.”

“I don’t want toooooo,” she slurred her words and pouted as if she were a temperamental toddler.

Had Harry not immediately recognized what was going on, he would have thought it was quite adorable.

“Yes, you do, baby. C’mon, it’s just right around the corner,” Harry’s fellow fraternity brother nagged.

He tried to pull her up by her limp arm, but she was dead weight against the porcelain tub, clearly too drunk to be going back to anyone’s bedroom with anyone and certainly not with a man Harry knew for a fact that she had never seen before in her life. The sight of what was going on made Harry sick to his stomach and the hairs on his neck stand up. He knew he had to intervene before this man could take her any further.

“Hey, man,” Harry commanded the attention of his disgusting, vile frat brother that he wanted nothing more than to punch square in between his eyes, “Ye’ ex was lookin’ for ye’ in the backyard. Seemed pretty pissed.”

Harry didn’t even know who his ex was, nor did he know whether or not she was even at the party, but he prayed that his lie was enough to make him leave before Harry had to handle him more aggressively.

“Fuck,” the man hissed to himself before making a beeline out of the cramped bathroom and towards the stairs as if he wasn’t just attempting to drag an almost lifeless girl back to his room.

“Hey,” Harry’s tone was much softer when he bent down to her level and spoke to the girl from his math class, “You alright?”

“No,” she grumbled, “I really want some chips.”

This made Harry scoff and the tiniest of smiles creep onto his lips. At least she was so far gone that the events that unfolded in the bathroom just now had failed to resonate with her.

“Waaaaait a minute,” she paused, “I know you. You’re Henry,” she jabbed her finger against Harry’s chest.

“I know you, too, Y/N,” Harry played along, ignoring the fact that he called her Henry as he inspected her body for her purse, which was, thankfully, still wrapped around her torso.

He dug around the small, black bag for her cell phone, which he, unfortunately, found out had no battery left.

“Do ye’ know where your friend is?” he enunciated slowly and assertively to her a bit like one would if they were talking to a baby.

The girl with smudged mascara under her eyes shrugged her shoulders and sighed.

“I saw her taking shots with some guy named Michael...or was it Matthew... and then I think she went off with some guy from her econ class. Or maybe it was the girl from her Women’s Studies class. I don’t really know,” the girl whined as if thinking too hard about where her friend had gone was giving her a headache.

“Was someone supposed to come get ye’?” Harry pressed her further.

“She was supposed to drive!” Y/N exclaimed, realizing now the predicament she was in.

Harry couldn’t believe how shitty of a friend this girl had. Not only had she disregarded her role as the designated driver, but she’d left her completely alone and drunk off her ass to fend for herself. The thought of what would have happened to her had Harry not miraculously stumbled into the bathroom made his skin crawl.

“Okay then,” he stood up from where he was squatted and outstretched his arms towards her, “Up. Let’s go. I’ll take ye’ home. Ye’ don’t need t’ be here anymore.”

“I don’t wanna go hooooooome. I wanna stay hereeee” the intoxicated girl shook her legs against the tub.

Any other girl and Harry would have just left her be, but he felt something inside of him that compelled him to take care of this girl and see to it himself that she made it home safe and unharmed. He couldn’t bear to think of waking up the next morning and having to listen to one of his fraternity brother’s brag about how good of a shag she was or about how embarrassing it was for her to be that drunk at a party.

“What if I take ye’ t’ get chips on the way?”

//

After about 20 minutes of trying to pressing Y/N to get her to tell him where she lived, Harry was finally able to find her apartment building. He took her through a drive-thru in the sketchy part of town because it was the last place open and he had promised the girl some chips and he was a man of his word. He was reluctant on doing so, seeing as he didn’t want to make this situation any weirder than it already was (him driving home the girl he sat beside in Calculus and only talked to for the duration of the 3 hours per week that they were in class who just so happened to be drunk out of her mind), but his hesitancy quickly left his system when her eyes lit up upon taking a greasy, brown bag filled with the salty snack from his hands.

“You’re my hero, Harry,” Y/N fake-cried (or maybe she was actually crying, Harry wasn’t sure at this point nor would he have been surprised).

“Look at us. Math buddies. Hangin’ out together. Who woulda thought,” she giggled as she stuffed a crispy potato past her lips that were covered in her smudged lipstick. 

Harry chuckled to himself, unsure of what to say to Y/N. He opted to continue driving her home in silence while she munched on her late night snack and sipped on her small cup of water that he insisted she drink all of. She didn’t say anything else either, to which Harry was thankful for.

It took Y/N a bit longer than usual to clank her fingers around her bag to retrieve her keyring, and even longer to figure out which key was the key that would let her into her locked apartment. Harry had done far more than anyone would have, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling like he couldn’t leave her side until she was sleeping peacefully in her bed.

He walked her through her apartment and to her bedroom with one hand hovering over the small of her back in case she lost her balance. Harry wasn’t sure what he’d ever pictured her room to look like, but it suited her, he thought to himself. He noticed some vinyl records in the corner of some of his favorite artists, ones that his friends always made fun of him for listening to. It was a bit messy; there were a few piles of clothes discarded on her floor, but having grown up with his mum and sister his whole life, it led him to believe she had probably been frantic trying to find something to wear to the party at his frat house and just neglected to pick up her mess before she left.

“Ye’ want to take ye’ dress off or somethin’?” Harry asked her.

“Harry, I am NOT having sex with you,” Y/N mumbled as she plopped down onto her fluffy bed.

“‘s not wha’ I meant. Where are do you keep ye’ pajamas? That dress is gonna leave ya sore in the mornin’ if ye’ sleep in it.”

Seeming content with his answer, she tilted her head in the direction of her dresser.

“Middle drawer.”

Harry left her side for a split second while he rifled through her clothes and returned with an oversized university t-shirt that Harry also owned himself. He unfolded it and laid it in her lap.

“NO peeking,” the girl insisted, to which Harry held his hands up in surrender and turned his back to face the corner of her room.

He could hear her struggling to get out of her clothes, but he didn’t dare spin back around in the chance that he saw her undressing and it caused any more strain in their already confusing arrangement. His mind was already flooded with how awkard it would be in the morning when she woke up and realized he had been inside of her home. How she would react when she saw him in class on Monday and whether or not she would yell at him for crossing the line. Really, all he wanted was to make sure she was alright.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts when Y/N called his name in that voice that he adored so much.

“I’m stuck.”

“Can I turn around and help ye’?” Harry treaded lightly.

“Pleaaaaase,” she slurred.

Harry was greeted by the sight of Y/N tangled up in the straps of her dress, not even having been able to pull it over her body. He couldn’t even count the number of times he’d undressed women in the past and how it came as second nature to him when fooling around, but this time, he was beyond nervous. His fingers hesitated to even graze over her bare skin, to untangle her arms from the complicated fabric that trapped her. She was wearing a mismatched bra and underwear, which seemed very much like Y/N’s personality, he thought to himself. Of course, he wasn’t going to deny that she looked incredible underneath her clothes and he wished he was seeing her like this under different circumstances, but that wasn’t what mattered now.

Trying his hardest not to stare, he quickly guided Y/N’s head through the hole of the t-shirt and helped her put her arms through to avoid her getting stuck in her own clothes again. The material fell down below her thighs, so that only the very bottom of her bum was visible to him. God, she looked beautiful.

“Harry,” she whispered to him, as if she were afraid someone would overhear.

“Yes?”

“Why are you being so nice to me? Is it because I help you in Calculus all of the time?”

“I’m actually not tha’ bad at Calculus, Y/N,” Harry snickered to himself as he searched around her bed for her cell phone charger, “’M quite good at it, really.”

“Then why do you always ask me about the homework every time I come in?” she pushed as she watched him pull her phone out of her bag once more and plug it up to the power source.

“Don’t know,” Harry shrugged, “Just like talking to ye’ I guess.”

“Okayyyyyyyyyyyy. If it’s not that, then why are you here? We’re not friends.”

She was still far too intoxicated to comprehend exactly what was going on right now, but the fact that she was starting to sober up and form cohesive sentences was making Harry antsy. 

He figured he had overstayed his welcome and that it was time to bug off before she started to ask anymore questions. That, and he wasn’t sure he was able to answer any more of her questions.

“Just didn’t feel like waking up t’ ye’ passed out in my bathroom floor is all. I’m gonna go now, do ye’ want me to get ye’ anything?” Harry lied as he swiped his thumbs under her eyelashes to wipe away the black smudges under her eyes the best that he could.

“Nope,” she responded with a pop of her lips before crawling back into the comfort of her bed.

She seemed to fall asleep almost immediately, to which Harry took that as his cue to leave. He backed out quietly, shutting the door behind him and tip-toeing down her hallway. He knew it was weird to rummage through her kitchen, but he felt compelled to make sure she would be taken care of when she woke in the morning. 

Harry discarded the wrapper from their little chip excersion into her bin, and filled up a glass of water and placed it on her counter. On his first try, he’d managed to find her medicine cabinet and sat a bottle of pain reliever beside the cup, knowing good and well that she’d need a handful of the small pills when she got up. 

He decided to check on her one last time before he buggered off for real this time, wanting to double check that she hadn’t choked on her own vomit and died whilst he was in her kitchen snooping about. She probably fine and dead to the world by now, but he wanted one last look at her before he went.

As he’d expected, she was perfectly fine. Her hair was tangled all around her head in a messy nest and small, adorable little snores left her parted lips as she slept. He could just barely make out her underwear-clad bum sticking out from the blanket, in which Harry found to be heart-warming for some reason. The girl that had taunted his brain for months and was seemingly untouchable to him looked so incredibly human at this moment.

Running a ringed hand through his now greasy, chocolate curls, he felt his mission was complete and left her alone to sleep and locked her door on his way out. It made Harry’s heart twinge knowing he’d most likely never see her like this again.

When Y/N woke the next day (very well into the afternoon, might she add), she felt strange. She was struggling to remember exactly what happened to her last night having just woken up, but what she did know that she had a headache from hell. 

As she drug herself out of bed to do the only thing she knew for certain would cure her hangover which was cook a large breakfast for only herself, she noticed a glass of water and pain medicine sitting on her counter by her coffee pot. The events of last night were murky, and she barely remembered what happened after her fourth drink, but she was almost positive she now recalled someone else being in her apartment with her.

She was uncertain, but had an inkling that, for some reason, it was the boy she sat beside in Calculus.

[mayraki]

53 and 54 with boyfriend!JJ!

53. “IT’S THE AVENGERS DUDE!” // 54. “Please tell me those are happy tears”

my requests are currently closed but here’s my prompt list

MASTERLIST

This has been the WORST birthday. Between your two jobs at the Cut you didn’t spend your day how you wanted, relaxing at the beach with your friends and then have dinner with your family. The day was extremely hot, you felt like if you had the wear your uniform for one more hour you were going to explode.

The sounds of the waves on the side of the restaurant you were working was the only thing that would keep you from losing it. But the rude costumers, the kids running around and crying and your feet and arms hurting like hell felt like the waves weren’t enough.

When your ten minutes to go to the bathroom came in the clock, you took a deep sigh before grabbing your phone and heading to the bathrooms. You didn’t want to go, but it was the perfect time to just get away from everything and stay in silence. It was what you needed.

You washed your face to feel better when you felt your phone vibrate on your pocket. You grabbed it to see a message of the only boy that could make you smile on these horrible days.

JJ: how’s my birthday girl?

Y/n: horrible. An old women just told me that the food I gave her was disgusting but she ate it all. She made me call the manager when I told her I couldn’t give her a refund.

JJ: do you want me to kick her ass?

You let out a tiny smile.

Y/n: Baby, it’s an old woman. Probably 50.

JJ: So? Nobody makes my girl feel horribly and then get away with it.

You couldn’t help but let out a big smile when you read the words “my girl”. You loved when he called you that, it made you feel like a billion butterflies on your stomach.

JJ: when are you done?

Y/n: in like half an hour.

JJ: Ok. I’ll be there to pick you up.

Y/n: and go where?

JJ: patience is key, baby.

Y/n: don’t tease me!

JJ: why? That’s my favorite activity!

“Y/n, your break is over!” You heard your manager call you. You quickly blocked your phone to walk out of the bathroom and start with another round of rude customers and annoying little kids.

“Finally, we’re free!” Your co-worker said once the last family walked out the door. You let out a huge smile and started to take off your apron. “Happy birthday, by the way.” She said with a smile.

“Thank you!”

“Any plans for today?”

“Ah..” you looked down to finish untying your apron. “Nothing interesting, my boyfriend is going to pick me up. I guess we’re going to the beach and just chill.”

“Wait, is that your boyfriend out there?” You looked up and noticed she was looking at the door. You walked closer to her to be able to see what she was seeing, and a beautiful blonde boy was waiting for you while playing with his lighter against his bike. You nodded with a smile. “Nice, my friend.” You playfully slapped her arm with a smile and she let out a little laugh. “I’m just saying! You did good.”

You shook your head with a smile and then tried to go to the counters to finish cleaning them, but your co-worker stopped you by grabbing your arm.

“You go. I’ll finish here.”

“You sure?” You asked furrowing your eyebrows. But she nodded pointing at JJ.

“You don’t make a boy like that wait.”

A smile appeared on your face. “Thank you, thank you! I really owe you.”

“Mmh.” She said. “Does he have a brother?” She asked but you let out tiny laugh before waving at her and leaving the girl behind.

As soon as you opened the door, JJ looked up and a huge smile appeared on his face. “There’s my girl!” He widen his arms out to welcome you with a hug, which you received happily.

“Happy birthday, baby.” He said against your neck. “Now.” He locked eyes with you. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“It’s a surprise!”

“JJ, just tell me.” You said but he shook his head before turning around to turn his bike on. “JJ!”

“What? I can’t hear you!” He moved his head telling you to get on the bike with a cheeky smile on his face. You let out a tiny and excited smile before sitting down on his bike and wrapping your arms around his body. This was all you needed.

As soon as he started the bike to the way to the surprise, you let your head rest on his back and closed your eyes to enjoy the wind blowing and the sound that surrounded you. You loved having him close, having him all for you. The smell of the ocean hit your nose and you let out a tiny smile. Suddenly, you felt like the day was becoming a little bit better.

You got lost on the ride so deeply, that you didn’t realized you were at The Chateau.

“Now, close your eyes.” He said once you two were out his bike. “C’mon.” He gently left his hand against your eyes once you closed them. He touched your waist to lead you to the house, you knew you were going inside since you had to take some steps on the stairs.

You heard JJ opening the door and then letting your eyes go as well as your waist.

“SURPRISE!” The Pogues yelled and that made you jump, but then a huge smile appeared once you saw what was in front of you.

Pope was holding a couple of balloons with a huge smile, Kie and Sarah were holding your favorite snacks while John B and JJ were standing next to a tiny tv that was in front of the couch.

“Happy birthday!” They yelled at the same time.

“Guys- this is...”

“We have your favorite movies!” John B yelled excited. JJ grabbed four little packages and walked closer to you with a proud smile, he handed to you four DVDs that were the Avengers movies.

“IT’S THE AVENGERS DUDE!” He yelled with excitement because he knew how much you loved to say that when you were watching the movies. You looked up at him and then at the Pogues with huge smiles behind him. You went back to the movies and felt your heart skipped a beat. You felt your eyes getting watery so you swallowed tying to control it, but it was too late. The fact that your friends did all of these for you... made your heart mealt. “Please tell me those are happy tears” JJ said once he saw that little tear coming down on your cheek.

You nodded with a smile but still with the tears going down. “Yes, oh my fucking god guys, this is- just- how? what?” You were saying so fast that nobody was understanding you. They all just came closer to you to do a group hug.

“We love you Y/n!” Kie yelled still on the group hug.

“You’re the best!” You heard Sarah yell.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR Y/N!” John B and Pope yelled at the same time.

Because of the group hug, JJ ended being very close to you. Your faces were almost touching each other, you opened your eyes to find him staring at you with a smile.

“Thank you, JJ.” You said softly.

“Anything for my girl.”

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[talesofafangirlwithadvr]

March 2021 Picks!

Okay, this is pretty shocking. I am actually starting this review with two weeks of March left! However, you will notice that I haven’t watched a ton of stuff this month. Instead I’ve been reading more for my program. I have continued with some favorites though, and even finished some series. 

Here come the spoilers....

NANCY DREW

I HAVE to start off talking about the CW’s Nancy Drew because I am LOVING IT this season. Wednesday’s cannot come fast enough (as you have probably seen on this page already). I am SO obsessed that I have actually started re-watching season 1 again (got it as a X-mas present, but available with HBO Max). It’s just SO GOOD! Obviously, I remember how that mystery concludes, but there’s things I’m noticing that I didn’t the first go round and even a few things I forgot. Some of those episodes feel like a lifetime ago because it was a pre-Covid world. Watching this show just makes me so happy. There’s great writing, plot, and THIS CAST! They are AMAZING. It is rare that I can say I like an entire show’s cast. That’s how you know you have a hit. I love the pairs. George and Nick are such a good match and make so much sense. I know they are not canon in the original series, but this show is its own thing and I think the choices they made with George and Nick’s characters are great. I just want George to be alright. She’s been through so much already. I also LOVE the potential of Nancy and Ace and I seriously think we’re headed there with the show. So many breadcrumbs and I am loving them all. I often re-watch a lot of the episodes instantly to make sure I have found them all. (See my page lydia-yougowith-stiles for more gushing on that.) Now we just need Bess back with Lisbeth and everything would be golden. 

WANDAVISION

I LOVED the ride that was Wandavision. I have never watched anything like it and I don’t think I ever will get that same experience again. It was so tough to wait for a new episode every Friday and it’s crazy that we haven’t had a new one for two weeks because it’s over. (Haven’t started Falcon and the Winter Soldier yet, but plan to.) I can definitely see myself re-watching the series as a whole in the very near future. I loved all the speculation and fan theories out there after each episode was released. I know some people are upset that they decided not to include some stuff, but I was okay with it. I feel there’s so much potential and we’d love to see it all, but there’s also the hope we can see more of it with Wanda’s character in the future. For an Avenger who was underrepresented in the MCU she FINALLY has the recognition of being one of the strongest people out there. I cannot wait to see where she is headed in Dr. Strange Multiverse of Madness. I feel this is not the end of “Vision” and the boys either. I seriously loved their family and the scene (which I chose the above picture from) was one of my favorite moments of them. We got to see them fight as a family, which made it even heartbreaking later. 

SUPERMAN AND LOIS

From one super family to the next, I have been pleasantly surprised with how much I have enjoyed the CW’s latest additional to the Arrowverse: Superman and Lois. While I am feeling the burnout of the CW’s superhero shows, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel specifically for Superman and Lois. The trailer didn’t draw me in, but I decided to still record and watch the pilot. I am very happy that I did. I love the tone of the show and the decision to show an older Clark and Lois raising their twin sons. (Even though I am continually feeling like Tyler Hoechlin is far too young to have 14 year old twins. He’s 33, so that “would” have made him 19, but it still feels like they try to make him look older as Clark.) As a lover of Smallville (which was my first real experience with superheroes), I love being back in the small, farm town and seeing Clark at his roots. Lois is great and very Lois like in her wanting to take down Morgan Edge. The couple has great chemistry and they feel like a family with the boys. I liked the twist (even though I felt it coming) that Jordan has powers and Jonathan is “just” athletic. While I liked that this was a way for Jordan to bond with his dad, I am hopeful that Jonathan will get something later down the line. If not then I hope he becomes more like the Stiles and stays human but can be apart of the team in another way. I don’t want him to go evil or anything because of his lack of powers. I really enjoy his character and how supportive he is for his brother. 

BLOWN AWAY SEASON 2

The second season of Blown Away came to Netflix at the perfect time. I was missing this show after watching the first season in the later half of 2020. Glass blowing is something I knew nothing about, but was drawn in by the trailer of this competition show. It was so mesmerizing and satisfying to watch (although, I would never try it myself). With the season being so short, I was ecstatic to discover the show got renewed for a second season. This latest season was just as fantastic and we tried to drag out watching the episodes as long as we could to make it last even longer. Seriously, check this show out if you love interesting competition shows that you’ve never seen before. You’ll be wanting to book a trip to visit the Corning Glass Museum in NY. 

VIOLETTA 

Well, your girl did it! After three seasons of 80 episodes a piece, I FINISHED Disney Channel South America’s telenovela VIOLETTA. What a fun ride it’s been. From eagerly awaiting the next season to be released on Disney Plus, to adding the songs to my phone. I feel like my Spanish improved, but I’m sure once the subtitles are removed I’ll be hopeless. This was such a fun time with some out of this world stories, but they were so entertaining. While there were times I wanted certain plots wrapped up, I understood why they were dragged out because of the length of the show. Season three as a whole wasn’t my favorite. While the beginning was very strong, the middle was rough and I found myself taking a lot of pauses. (I really felt I needed to finish when my sister-who started long after me-finished the show and I was still on like episode 50.) Despite, all of this, it did pick up in the last 20 episodes and I just wanted to marathon through because it was so good. Once I was finished I felt so accomplished and a bit sad. I want to continue watching South American Disney shows available on Disney Plus, but due to the long commitment I think it will be some time before I do. Plus, right now I would definitely compare it to Violetta a lot because I just finished it and it was my first experience. 

[smileyparkersmiley]

jealousy looks good on you, t.h

a/n: Hey guys and thank you so much for the support on the last post, I’m glad you seemed to enjoy it. I have wanted to write a jealous Tom fic for a while and I hope you all enjoy this one as well. Remember my requests are open if there is anything specific you want me to write about for either Tom or Peter I would love to give it a go!

words: 1.9k

genre: jealous tom and fluff throughout

I like to think of myself as a simple woman, I like to say that I don't need a lot of things to make me happy, and right now all I needed was my boyfriend, some salty popcorn and a Netflix film. But tonight thats not on the agenda as its Toms mums birthday, she was turning 51 and Dom was throwing her a little surprise party, and when I say little I mean not so little. Tom managed to fly over from LA as there was a gap in his schedule in-between his press tours for Onward so he's able to surprise his mum on her birthday. He's here for the whole week and I’m happy to have him home as it’s been about a month since I've last seen him, and the withdrawal symptoms were kicking in.

As much as I adore Toms mum Nicki, I couldn't help but feel selfish and want to keep Tom all to myself for the night considering his flight only landed this afternoon and I only got a few hours alone with him before I will have to share him with countless strangers. Tom as well being extremely tired from his flight just wanted to sleep and cuddle up on the sofa which is what our afternoon consisted of until I dragged him upstairs to have a shower and freshen up for the main event.

‘Come on love go and freshen yourself up I don't think your mum would appreciate you stinking up her house after being on a 10 hour flight’ I tease, whilst tugging on his hand to get his body up the stairs to get ready, the last thing we need is to be late.

He pulls his bodyweight up and is standing directly in front of me now with a gentle grip on both of my hands

‘If it means everyone has to leave and its just me and you then I might just take that risk and skip the shower all together’ He smirks, I slap his arm gently scolding him

‘You’re so cheesy, now get your arse up the stars’

Toms shower was running and I could hear him singing away to a song I couldn't quite figure out because he doesn't like people hearing him sing, thats why he sings in the shower he thinks his voice goes unheard, however, though its muffled its still enough to cause a smile to creep onto my lips as a think about how much I’ve missed hearing him around the flat these past few weeks and how grateful I am that he's home.

The shower switches off and I pick up my outfit and a couple pieces of jewellery that I’ve chosen to compliment the look into mine and Toms shared bathroom, he's out of the shower I’m sure he won't mind me coming in to get showered, it's not like I haven't seen anything before.

I’ve had my shower and gotten dressed I haven't seen Tom dressed and I’m not too sure what he's planning on wearing, I was half way through my makeup when the bathroom door opens suddenly.

‘Oh wow, it feels like every time I lay my eyes on you you get more and more beautiful’

Toms eyes were wide and were sweetly scanning my body up and down in admiration taking his time to cherish every part of my body. My cheeks immediately flushed and I got nervous, no matter how long me and Tom have been together I will never get used to his compliments and the way he looks at me. He could sense my vulnerability in this moment and came over and pressed a kiss to my cheek, which only increased the blood flow to my cheeks even more. I looked at him in the mirror and it was my turn to admire. He was wearing black well fitted jeans with a white shirt and was holding a leather jacket in his arms which I'm assuming he's come to ask for my opinion on wearing it. He's so close I can smell his cologne, a scent I didnt realise I missed so much until it was taken away from me, his arms and chest fit well in his shirt which he has grown into slightly and his short hair was perfectly gelled and I was finding it hard to resist the urge to run my hands through it.

Tom noticed I was staring and his cheeks were now matching with mine, he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my shoulder and watches me in the mirror, I lean into his touch.

‘Can I help you?’ I ask as he continues to just look at me with interest despite me doing anything interesting in the slightest.

‘Carry on doing your makeup I love watching you, its just so interesting to me’

I don't completely understand his thought processes but I nod and carry on as I was making him smile whilst watching me blend my neutral eyeshadow. He watches me blend that eye and removes me from his hold and goes to leave the bathroom, I stop him just before as I take a light grip on his hand, he looks at his hand then up at me

‘I forgot to say, thank you and you too look very beautiful tonight’ I tell him and see his eyes light up at my compliment.

‘Thank you darling’ and with that he places a light peck on my lips leaving me to continue getting ready, with enough adrenaline coursing through my blood to keep me on a high for the whole evening.

We arrive at the party, there were lots of people here scratch 50 people there were at least 70 easily, the Hollands knew a lot of people. Me and Tom went and said hello to his brothers, his dad and Harrison and we did the rounds of ‘how are you?’ and ‘I saw your latest film it was amazing’ a lot of the conversation just involved polite smiles and nods from me and Tom talking about his adventures on movie sets and film premieres.

Toms mum arrived, and was indeed very surprised and when her eyes landed on Tom the poor woman burst into tears as she scooped her eldest son up in a large hug as she was glad that he was able to get away from work to celebrate with her.

Me and Tom had a lovely conversation with her as she told us that she had a normal day at work and that Dominic said that he was going to take her out for dinner just them two because no one else was able to make it.

‘Its so lovely to see you too y/n, how have you been what have you been getting up to then?’

The conversation continued for a while until she was eventually pulled away by many of her friends who wanted to speak to her so me and Tom moved on.

Tom was having a conversation with a couple who I believed were friends of him mums when I noticed his glass was empty and was probably in need of another drink

‘Tom I’ll go and grab us another drink, I’ll be back in a moment’ Tom says thanks and hands me his glass with one hand and removes his grip from around my waist with the other.

I meander through the large groups of people to get to the bar where I order me and Tom new drinks, when this man who was in his early 20s approached me and sparked up a conversation. I was a bit taken aback at first but he seemed really nice and interesting. I love Toms work and I am incredibly proud of everything he does however it is nice to have a conversation be focused on you and what you do and not just your famous boyfriends films.

He told me his name was Jake and that his mum was a good friend of Nicki's and works with her thats why he was here, we must have stood by the bar for a while without realising as I saw Tom approaching with a confused look spread across his face.

As soon as he reaches my side his arm attaches itself to my hip again and he introduces himself to Jake.

‘Hi, I don't think that we have met before, I’m Tom y/ns girlfriend’ He holds out a hand to shake Jakes

‘Oh hey man I’m Jake’ Jake shakes Toms hand and looks down at his drink awkwardly as he doesn't know how to play his next moves. Tom turns himself now to look down at me

‘y/n, Harrison wants to come and have a catch up’ He then turns himself towards Jake

‘Do you mind if we just’ He gestures to somewhere behind him not bothering to see if Harrison is actually over there

I could sense the tension that Tom was creating, I know jealousy when I see it and especially if its on Tom, he wears his heart on his sleeve and you can read his emotions like a book, and I couldn't decide whether this look suited him or not.

‘No go ahead of course, I think my mum wants me to go over to her as well anyway so’ He awkwardly picks up his jacket from the stool he was sitting on and his drink

‘It was really nice talking to you y/n’ His eyes flash quickly at Tom and then to me but they don't linger for too long, he turns and walks away with no hesitation. That situation escalated quickly and Toms jealous side has emerged and theres no doubt that its going away too quickly.

‘So what did Harrison want to talk to us about?’ I play dumb knowing full well that Harrison didnt want to talk to us about anything, in fact we already spent an hour talking to him when we got here.

‘Oh yeah Harrison’ He says but he isn't looking at me he's looking straight ahead, his jaw is tightening and his brows are frowned, I’ve decided jealousy does look good on him, very good indeed.

‘Lets not stay for too much longer its getting late and I’m really tired’ He says turning to me softening slightly when he catches my eyes.

“yeah that sounds good to me, and Tom?’ I start to look forward to the prospect of cuddling Tom tonight, something I missed from the second he left, my body now craves to be intertwined with his at the thought of it.

‘Yeah?’ His brows now raised

‘You do know There was no flirting going on between me and Jake earlier we were literally just talking right?’ Tom doesn't look convinced however.

‘y/n he was clearly flirting with you, I saw the way he was looking at you and how he was touching his hair trying to make you swoon’ Toms eyes immediately went darker almost as something inside of him switched, he used his arms as he spoke because he was getting frustrated and his hair was starting to become floppy as a result of the gel loosing its touch. In short he was making it very difficult not to pounce on him there and then.

I grabbed on the the collar of his shirt to pull him closer to me, I whisper sensually in his ear.

‘Jealously looks good on you Tom, now take me home so I can do something about it’

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Living Room Graduation

You’re due to graduate from college, but due to COVID, it was cancelled. Chris, your neighbor, and his brother try to give you a graduation anyway.

-

           You were gutted, to say the least, about your graduation being cancelled. Actually, your entire final semester was cancelled, your parents were stuck with your grandparents in Maine, and you had a huge old house to yourself and you couldn’t even have anyone quarantine with you. So you were at your worst, skipping Google Hangouts classes to re-watch the same TV shows you’d seen four times to binge all of the Lord of the Rings movies (you don’t even like them really, they’re just on Netflix), to sleep for fourteen hours a day, and only leave the house for curbside pickup or your weekly Starbucks run. You were completely and utterly done with life at that point.

           It was around seven when you realized the trash collector was supposed to come in half an hour, so you sprung out of bed, threw on some shorts, and tried to make it. You probably looked like a mess, and it only slightly comforted you when you saw your neighbor, Chris, walking his own trash out in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. He was a sweet guy. He was an actor, he was in some of your favorite movies, and he had the sweetest dog who would sometimes come to your front yard and roll around. His brother, Scott, had been quarantining with him. At least they weren’t alone.

           “You forgot too?” Chris asked across the driveway. You were probably six or seven feet apart.

           “Yeah, my parents usually do this,” you responded. “But they’re stuck in Maine, so I’m here.”

           “Oh, no! Hey, aren’t you supposed to be finishing college? Boston U, right? Is it pre something?”

           “Pre-law,” you responded. You put the trash can down and crossed your arms in the cold, still talking to him. “I’m deferring law school for a year to try and get an internship and pay some of my loans off. I guess you’re not working right now, either?”

           “Nope. I got a series coming out on Apple, but nothing’s filming right now, so Scott and I are just kind of sitting ducks,” he answered. “I gotta go take the dog out for a walk, but you should come over at some point as long as you don’t have coronavirus. We’re good company. And we’d be glad to have you.” You smiled.

           “Thank you,” you said with a smile on your face. “Yeah, it’s freezing, I’m going back inside to put some pants on.” He laughed as you turned and walked across the driveway, bare-footed, until you reached your front door and slipped inside.

           From that March evening, you were a regular at the Evans house. You came over for breakfast, lunch, even dinner sometimes. You and Scott would sit on the couch, Dodger between you, and watch TV for most of the day until you had to tune into class, when you’d run home. As it started warming up, you started using their pool. You missed your family, but Chris and Scott were quickly becoming some of your favorite people. Chris even networked you with one of his lawyers who was helping him with a political website he was coming out with, earning you a remote internship for the summer.

           May came and your spirits were low, despite the fact that you had Chris and Scott all but living with you. You hated the fact that you couldn’t even protest for your classes to be graded so your GPA remained at a 3.89 and wouldn’t round up. You hated that your parents still weren’t home because they were taking care of your grandparents still. You hated being in that big farmhouse, all alone, even though your friends were next door. You hated the fact that you couldn’t do any school traditions or even remotely celebrate your graduation. But you tried to keep yourself occupied, like watching all of the Marvel movies with Scott just to annoy the shit out of Chris.

           “Oh, come on! I don’t look that bad!” Chris defended as you were watching the first Captain America. He was making lunch for the three of you (because you and Scott only wanted to postmates in and Chris insisted on making food), so he was in the kitchen just behind where you and Scott were laughing and commenting.

           “Dude, no one looks good in polyester stars and stripes! Just admit it!” You said to him. He groaned and jokingly shoved you into the couch. “I’m sorry. You just make it so easy to make fun of you.”

           “I could say the same. You weren’t fooling anyone when you put that sweater on while you were tanning outside.” That was right – you had put a sweater on over your bikini the day before when you were at their pool, trying to cover up the fact that you were attending class and tanning at the same time.

           “Oh, that’s different!” You said, walking into the kitchen just to punch him in the side. You’d seen how he worked out and that was definitely the most vulnerable part of him.

           “Hey!”

           “Guys, no roughhousing!” Scott called, not even bothering to look behind you. Your phone chimed, signaling that you had class in ten minutes, and you sighed.

           “Go on and use the office,” Chris said to you, “and I’ll have lunch after.”

           “Thank you,” you replied, grabbing your laptop and running up the stairs to Chris’s office area. He always kept it the cleanest room in the house, but it was filled with pictures of him and his co-stars, pictures of him and his family. Your favorite was a framed picture of Dodger right in front of his computer.

           You logged into class and the Google Hangouts noise started playing loudly. Chris looked up at the ceiling before walking over to Scott, knowing that you were getting ready for class and wouldn’t be back down. He sat down next to his brother and pet the dog who was always at his side.

           “Okay, since her graduation got cancelled, I wanna do something,” Chris said to Scott. “She deserves it. And her parents aren’t even here to see her graduate.”

           “Well, what do you want to do?” Chris sighed, taking his phone from his pocket, and looked up your college’s website. Then he saw the COVID information page, which had plans for graduation on it.

           “It looks like they’re doing a virtual graduation with all of their names and pictures and everything. So maybe we could screen it here, give her a nice brunch and some alcohol, make her feel not so anti-climactic,” he suggested, handing Scott the phone. The graduation was going to be on YouTube, so it was easy to pull up on the TV. And they could lure you over under the guise of something else and surprise you with it.

           “Alright, then, how do you wanna do this? We have to make some excuse to keep her out until that time.”

           “Just… You go with her on a Starbucks run or something after class today. Find a way to make sure it’s the one across town. That’ll give me enough of a chance to make some food and put some stuff up and go over to her house and steal her cap and gown.”

           “Christopher, you are a mastermind,” Scott said. “Remind me never to piss you off while we’re in quarantine. You have time, money, and motive.” Chris chuckled and went back to making lunch, bringing the meat out to the grill while you were still in class.

           Over the next few days, you didn’t suspect anything. You went along with everything, as usual, and Chris was even alone with you as you walked Dodger. He managed to keep it a secret, even though he wanted to burst and tell you that you shouldn’t be sad on your graduation. The week leading up to it, he forced you to use the office space almost every day. He gave you food and coffee, he made you take breaks for your sanity, and he made you get nine hours of sleep every night. Finally, the day before graduation, you burst into the door.

           “Guys!” You said loudly, holding a printed piece of paper. “I contested to get my classes graded instead of pass fail and they did it! I have a 3.9 now!”

           “That’s amazing!” Chris said, walking over to give you a hug.

           “What? That’s awesome!” Scott got up off the couch and hugged you too. Even Dodger looked excited.

           “So now I can actually say I have a 3.9.”

           “Let me see it!” Chris took the paper from your hands, looking at all of your grades. Despite all of the meltdowns and classes you skipped, you managed an A in every single one of them. “I’m so proud of you!” He said, hugging you again.

           “I’m going to go call my parents,” you said.

           “Oh, by the way,” Chris said, grabbing you before you could make it out the door. “Come over tomorrow at 8:30. No questions asked, alright? And wear something cute?” You gave him a look before turning around and leaving.

           “Dude, you basically spoiled it!” Scott said, elbowing his brother.

           “What happened to no roughhousing?” Chris asked. He ran away before Scott could do anything. He had some work to do, if only for you.

           The next morning you showed up at their door at exactly 8:30, carrying a six pack and hoping that whatever they had planned would allow you to get drunk. You’d finally passed out after watching Baccalaureate and the awards ceremonies all by yourself. Your best friend was the valedictorian, too, and you called her to cry about it. But you were up bright and earlier than usual when Scott opened the door and shuffled you in. Red and white was everywhere – they’d pulled out some Christmas decorations that were red garlands, Chris had literally put glitter confetti all over a table, and there was a cookie cake on the table with your name on it.

           You teared up as soon as you saw the cookie cake. You could smell breakfast, too. He’d made you an entire meal, bigger than the usual kind. Both of the boys were wearing red, too, and you beamed. They’d planned you an entire graduation party in their living room because you couldn’t go to yours.

           “What?” You asked. They both just laughed and embraced you in an Evans sandwich.

           “I stole your cap and gown too,” Chris said, “you should really lock your doors when you’re over here for class.” You laughed.

           “Thank you, so much, guys.”

           “It’s the least we can do. We’re proud of you. Come on and get some food and alcohol and we can cry through the ceremony together.” You laughed again and started making the rounds in the kitchen, grabbing a little bit of everything except for some extra bacon, and you let Chris pour you a massive glass full of alcohol for yourself. He brought out your gap and gown and your cords and stoles and made you put them on. The ceremony started at 9, so you weren’t too pressed for time. But you sat down between the two of them, Dodger right on top of you, and watched as your name eventually came on screen. Both boys cheered and nudged you, clinking all of your glasses together.

           “I’m so proud of you,” Chris said, “really.” You leaned into his shoulder and then Scott’s, just grateful that you had them.

           “I’m really glad we took the trash out at the same time,” you said with a sniffle.

��          “Oh, don’t cry! Come on, we have alcohol!” Scott said. That just made you laugh.

           “Come on, kid,” Chris said as he messed up your hair. “Let’s get some cake.”

A/N: I’m sorry this is so short but I hope you like it! Congrats to anyone in the Class of 2020!

[out-of-jams]

Gossip Girl

↠ Gossip Girl ↞ Part of my Bangtan Netflix series!

Every year, you and your seven childhood friends spend the holiday weekend together at Jin’s resort in the Alps. It’s always a good time: drinking, the occasional recreational drug, and the divulging of secrets. It’d been another routine, fun weekend with your friends.

Until one of you leaked everyone’s secrets to the city’s biggest gossip site. Should be easy to find out which one of you did it, right? Who was responsible for dragging everyone’s reputation into the dirt? Too bad no one could remember what had happened that weekend. Or so you all say.

Which one of eight, pretty little socialites spilled their ugly truths? Why, that’s a secret I’ll never tell.

                                           xoxo

                                     Gossip Girl

              Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

              Warnings/Genre: Mature themes. Socialite!au. Gossip Girl!au. Explicit language. Fluff. Angst. Backstabbing. Mystery. Drug use. Alcohol use. Light violence. Allusion to criminal activity. Friends to lovers.

              Word Count: 18.5k

A/N: Whew! This was a beast for me to write let me tell ya! But it's also my first one shot of this size and caliber. Well, and my first time writing smut too (cringe). Hopefully it turned out well.

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission.

                               | | Masterlist | |

             Hey Upper-Eastsiders, Gossip Girl here: your one and only source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan’s elite. And do I have the biggest news ever. One of my many sources sent me something that I think you’d all like to see.

Not even the gentle hum of the elevator could drown out the sound of your rapidly beating heart. While you watched the golden lit numbers above the steel doors count up as you ascended, you couldn’t help the shaking of your hands. You had maybe fifteen more seconds to pull yourself together.

Your mascara coated eyelashes tickled your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut. One, two, three. That was all you gave yourself before you opened your eyes and stood up straight. The silk yellow ribbon tied around your neck threatened to strangle you to death, but you ignored it in favor of the elevator doors opening.

Cigar smoke. That was the first scent to assault your nose.  

Fuck.

Jin only smoked cigars when he was overly stressed and on the precipice of a meltdown. He always complained that they damaged his beauty. Like the tobacco would somehow come to life and mar his face. He always was overdramatic.

Now, however, you were almost tempted to steal one for yourself.

The deep vocal fry of Hoseok’s voice met your ears as you stepped out of the steel box. Heels clacking against the glossy wood finish of the penthouse of Jin’s hotel, you rounded the corner of the foyer. The fancy, grey bricked finish of the walls were normally familiar-- comforting. But now it chilled your veins with ice.

Standing at the bar in the living room, Namjoon was pouring himself a generous serving of scotch. His silver colored hair was glossy under the overhead lights. He must have just recently bleached it since it’d been honey blond just a day ago. Namjoon’s back was to you, but at your entrance he turned with a glass of liquor in hand.

Jin paused from where he was pacing a hole into the expensive persian rug he’d purchased last summer abroad. The pink jacket of his suit was discarded on top of the pool table and the long sleeves of his white button-up were rolled to his elbows. A fat, half-smoked cigar dangled from one of his slender hands, the other moving to push his dark hair away from his forehead. Jin’s normally grinning plump lips were pursed in irritation, nostrils flared.

From his seat on the long, orange colored couch, Hoseok halted his movements, his fingers halfway to his lips with an unlit joint. Most of the buttons on his light blue shirt were undone and the muscles of his pectorals were peaked through. And his own blazer was flung over the arm of the couch without care.

“Was it you?”

You didn’t even get to take another step before Jin was all over you. He never yelled at you, at least not in the way that he was now. And you couldn’t help your eyebrows from shooting up into your hairline in disbelief.

“Me? Seriously?” An unamused huff left your lips. “Why the hell would I expose myself?”

“She’s got a point.” Hoseok mumbled around the joint pressed between his heart-shaped lips. His eyes were downcast as he flicked open his 18 carat gold Dupont lighter and held it up to the end. The scent of marijuana mixed with cigar smoke with thick tension.

“So it wasn’t any of us.” Namjoon spoke up, knocking back an unhealthy amount of scotch.

“Who was it then?” Jin turned to Namjoon with fire blazing in his eyes. The ash from his cigar threatened to sprinkle onto the rug, but he didn’t notice. Or care.

“How the hell would I know?”

“Where’s everyone else?” You cut in before the frown lines in Namjoon’s forehead could deepen. WIth a click of your heels, you dropped your birkin purse onto the glass coffee table and sat down next to Hoseok, who offered you the joint and a sad, tiny smile. He should have expected for you to decline. You rarely partook.

The heat of secondhand smoke filled your lungs as Hoseok exhaled and your eyes searched over the stressed men in the room. Jin finally made his way back to the pool table and leaned against it with his forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Not here yet.”

Footsteps sounded from around the corner on the opposite side of the penthouse entrance. Through the smoky haze filling the room you could just make out the figure of a man that you would recognize almost anywhere.

With long, curly black hair and broad shoulders covered by a black cashmere shirt, Jungkook sauntered into the room with his customary swagger. Three silver hoops dangled from each ear and the heels of his designer black boots knocked against the floor as he approached. His doe-like eyes met yours and he faltered in his stride, golden ringed hand pushing his hair from his eyes.

Jungkook’s mouth parted like he had something to say, but stopped himself and settled for just giving you a silent head nod of greeting instead. You simply shot him a quick, closed mouth smile and grabbed the dangling joint from Hoseok’s hand. You didn’t usually participate. Didn’t normally take what Hoseok had to offer. But damn did you need it. Especially with what was to come.

The sound of the elevator dinging was a grateful distraction from the way Jungkook’s thighs strained against the fabric of his black slacks when he took a seat on the other couch. Everyone in the room looked up at the two men who rounded the corner. One short and the other taller: Jimin and Taehyung. Also known as the Dynamic Duo.

Taehyung had always been someone of ethereal beauty. With his blond hair and perfectly sculpted face, he’d graced more covers of magazines than you owned. His tall, slender figure was covered head-to-toe in nothing but Gucci as he crossed the room. The man’s normally bubbly, cute boxy smile was gone and replaced by a serious look that you’d never seen from him in all your years of friendship.

And at his side, Jimin possessed a beauty that rivaled your own. While Taehyung was handsome, Jimin was pretty. His light pink colored hair complimented his dainty features and made him look like a fairy with plush, kissable lips and tan skin. Even though he was the shortest of the men in your group, Jimin made up for it with his ability to catch and bag any woman he wanted. Or man. Whichever he was in the mood for.

“Well?” Taehyung’s deep baritone voice spoke up before anyone else could. His steps halted once he made it to the center of the room, though Jimin headed straight to the bar. “Who’s going to take responsibility for this? Which one of you did it?”

You’d never seen Taehyung so angry. Not even when Jungkook shaved half his head and eyebrows as a prank in middle school. But now, Taehyung was burning with heat, the steam from his anger mixing with the smoke intermingling in the air.

“Calm down.” Jin huffed. His dark eyes burned with authority while he puffed on his cigar, his teeth holding it in place like some kind of socialite mobster.

Though, you supposed, he kind of was in a way. Whether the people in the room agreed or not, Jin was the unspoken leader of Bangtan. Which, coincidentally, was the most powerful group of socialites in the city. Everyone turned to your group when they wanted juicy gossip, or for the next big fashion trend, or for a leg up the ladder of the elite. All eight of your families ran a different part of New York City, and since you were the next heirs, it fell to you to follow in your parent’s footsteps.

“Calm down?” Taehyung clenched his jaw in anger. “How the hell am I supposed to calm down when the whole fucking city knows that I--”

“Look, let’s just wait for everyone to get here before we start in on each other. Cool?” Namjoon, ever the peacemaker, spoke as he poured both himself and Jimin another full glass of scotch.

Namjoon wasn’t the biggest heavyweight when it came to alcohol, so you were a little concerned for his sobriety.

“Speaking of,” Hoseok leaned back against the couch and stretched his arms along the back. The warmth of his skin brushed against the back of your neck and you met his eyes as he turned to you. “Where’s Yoongi?”

All attention was on you, but all you could do was shrug. “No idea. He left early this morning and didn’t tell anyone where he was going.”

Hoseok’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Looked like you weren’t the only one wondering what the hell your brother was up to.

“Did anyone try calling him?” Jimin plopped down next to you on the couch so hard that it sent you bouncing into Hoseok’s side.  

The pink haired man ignored your annoyed glare in favor of topping off his glass and setting the bottle of liquor on the coffee table. Jimin’s sweet scented cologne mixed with the aroma of marijiauna in a dangerous cocktail of temptation.

“He said he’d be here.” Jin spared a glance down at the Rolex fixed to his wrist. “Though it better be soon.”

“In a hurry? You have other secrets you need to go sell?” Taehyung buried his hands deep inside the pockets of his Gucci slacks.

He’d yet to take a seat and continued to stand in the middle of the room like the center of attention he loved to be. His blond hair hung across his brow as he sent Jin a dangerous glare.

“Watch it.” With a growl, Jin pushed off the pool table and stalked closer to the blond.

“Why? You gonna send me away too?”

Your fingers found your temples in frustration. Fights would break out occasionally between the eight of you. It was normal. Expected, even. Given how long you’d known each other, the hard-headed determination that you all possessed sometimes got in the way of one another. Backstabbing would happen from time-to-time, sometimes purposeful and others not, but at the end of the day you’d always be there for one another. But selling each other out?

It was a whole different ball game now.

A sigh left your lips as you drowned out the bickering going on back and forth between Taehyung and Jin. Even though the older man liked to play at being a no-nonsense businessman, he was one of the most immature out of all of you.

Looking up from the rug underneath your heels, you just so happened to meet Jungkook’s stare. His lips were pressed together and his doe eyes shone with an emotion you couldn’t discern as he refused to break his gaze. Jungkook’s brows pushed together in an attempt to wordlessly communicate something with you. What that was exactly, you had no idea.

Your eyes dropped back down to the rug with pursed lips and the side of your body that still pressed against Hoseok’s simmered with heat. How did you get yourself into this situation?

Well.

                                   Two Hours Ago

“Time to wake up, Miss Min.”

The sound of metal rings being dragged across a curtain rod wretched you out of peaceful slumber. With your mind hovering halfway between the land of dreams and that of the living, you subconsciously turned away from the sunlight that suddenly beamed across your closed eyelids.

“Not now, Yoomin.” You words were slurred into the cool silk of your pillow. Snaking a hand out of the comforter wrapped around you like a burrito, your fingers searched your forehead blindly. Sometime throughout the night your sleeping mask had gotten pushed up and away from your eyes. “I was having the most wonderful dream. Now let me get back to it.”

Yoomin tutted her tongue somewhere behind you, not that you’d bother to look anyway. The older woman should have been used to your morning routine by now. She’d been working for your family ever since you were a baby and if you were being honest, she’d raised you more than your own mother.

“If you don’t get up now, Miss Min, you won’t get to your first day of the semester on time.” Yoomin scolded softly, voice lilting with her hard Korean accent.

“Five more minutes.”

Instead of granting your wish, Yoomin’s feet padded across the shag carpet in your bedroom and ripped the covers from your body. She ignored your grumbled moans of protest and tossed them somewhere you couldn’t easily reach.

“Breakfast is ready for you downstairs, Miss Min.” Even with the sleep mask covering your eyes, you could picture the woman’s stance: hands on hips and lips pursed. “Get ready and come down.”

“Ugh.” Once again, Yoomin paid no mind to your wordless plea and left the room, closing the door behind her. With a sigh, you tore your mask off and threw it somewhere on the other side of your king size bed.

The royal blue walls of your bedroom greeted you as you squinted against the sunlight. And silk sheets caressed your bare legs while you slowly sat up, fingers running through your tangled hair. The clock on your bedside table read that it was only 9 am and you took a moment to mourn the loss of sleep.

You’d gotten back home sometime late last night/early in the morning. The flight that you’d taken back from the Alps had been delayed due to severe weather conditions. Or whatever. Therefore, you’d only been able to squeeze in a few hours of sleep.

“I really should have taken Jin’s offer and used his private jet.” Your mumbles met no one’s ears but your own as you pulled back the door of your closet. Though, you supposed, it was your fault for wanting to take the latest possible flight back to New York.

Fingers pressing a button on the small remote in your hand blindly, you tilted your head to the side as the designer clothes hung up inside your walk-in closet rotated. Pops of color came and faded out of view while you debated what to wear for the day. Just because you were tired didn’t mean that you had to look it.

Well that, and you would be dragged to hell and back on Gossip Girl, the city’s biggest gossip site, if someone caught you looking less than your best.

Which would happen over your dead, decrypt body.

With a hum, you plucked a black and yellow versace dress from the rack, and grabbed a solid dark green overcoat and matching mustard yellow scarf and birkin bag. You only debated for a moment before grabbing a pair of fishnet tights and wandered into the ensuite bathroom.

The heated tiles were warm and welcoming against your bare feet. And as you showered, you couldn’t help but mentally go through your calendar for the day. It was Monday, which meant that you had a full day of classes and then afterwards you’d stop by Jin’s.

He was the oldest of your group, having four years on you and five on the youngest--Jungkook--so he’d already graduated college. Not that he really needed to, since Jin had been set to take over his father’s five star hotel chain since he was in his final year of high school. He had an older brother, Seokjoong, but he was so wrapped up in the party lifestyle that he’d disappeared into Europe ages ago. It was rumored that he’d cleaned out his bank account and changed his name right before going M.I.A.. No one had heard from him since.

And so, Jin was appointed the next heir of Kim Industries.

Lips pursed in a pout, you swiped on a final layer of lip gloss and fluffed your hair. Your reflection stared back at you in the floor length mirror as you gave yourself one last look over. With skin perfect and makeup flawless, you gave a one shouldered shrug of approval.

The stiletto heels of your mustard colored pumps clacked against the twisting marble steps of your high rise penthouse as you descended. It was quiet. Which wasn’t anything out of the ordinary in the Min household. So your arrival on the first floor went unnoticed by anyone but yourself.

Right at the bottom of the steps, across the row of red marble pillars, was your favorite sitting room. A healthy selection of fruits were spread across the knee-high table in the center of the room. But you ignored it in favor of the steaming china cup filled with coffee. The hot liquid hit the back of your throat as you plopped down onto one of the four plush couches.

Reaching across the table, you grabbed the newest Vogue magazine and flipped through it. “Yoomin!”

Your shout didn’t go unanswered for more than a few ticks of silence.

“Yes, Miss Min?” The older woman appeared from somewhere else in the apartment, most likely the kitchen. Her long dark hair was pulled back into a low sitting french bun. A lacy black and white maid’s headband sat atop her hair that matched with the rest of her outfit. You weren’t really a huge fan of the whole ‘suppressed woman’ look, but Yoomin liked it for some odd reason.

With your lips pressed carefully to the porcelain cup in order to preserve your lipgloss, you eyed the woman over the rim. “Where’s my brother? Isn’t he usually forced out of his hidey-hole he calls a bed by now? Or is he still cooped up in the batcave?”

“Ah,” Yoomin folded her hands daintily in front of herself. “Mr. Min left earlier this morning. A few hours ago to be precise.”

Now that had your eyebrows shooting so far up into your hairline that you were surprised they didn’t take flight. Your brother wasn’t known for mornings. Or waking up any earlier than 2pm. He usually had to be forced out of bed if anyone needed him before that, which was a job that nobody wanted. While your brother was quite the softy deep down beneath his cold exterior, he wouldn’t hesitate to tear anyone apart who dared to rouse him from his precious slumber.

You lowered your teacup to your lap, the contents already drained. “Yoongi, up early? Being productive? Sounds suspicious. Did he leave to go back to Korea already and not tell me?”

“No, Mr. Min is still in the city. As for where he went, he didn’t say.” Yoomin wet her lips almost nervously and you narrowed your eyes at the action.

“Really, now?” The cup met the surface of the table. “He left and didn’t say a word? Just waltzed right out the door? Very unlike him.”

While Yoongi wasn’t very warm and receptive towards strangers, your brother had a soft spot for Yoomin. Her family had worked for yours for generations. In fact, she’d left everything behind in South Korea to join your family and immigrate to America. That’d all been years ago, before you were born.

Yoongi was three years older than you, so he’d been around one-years-old when your mother packed up and moved her fashion company from Seoul to Manhattan. Your father moved to Italy right after their divorce, and while you only got to see him during certain holidays and summer vacations, you were a daddy’s girl through and through.

Yoomin paused for a millisecond before responding. “Yes, Miss Min.”

“Ah!” You pointed an accusatory finger at the woman. “You hesitated! What do you know?”

“Nothing, Miss Min.” Yoomin bowed her head before glancing over her shoulder. “If you’ll please excuse me, your mother asked me to drop a few things off at her office.”

The woman disappeared before you could respond, the heels of her mary jane’s clacking against the floor. The ding of the elevator richoched, steel doors closing and leaving you alone in a place that held too much silence.

You’d barely had any time to ponder on the woman’s strange actions when the chirp of a text message rang from the pocket of your purse. Absentmindedly popping a grape into your mouth, you slid the device out and glanced at the text on the screen.

         E-girl blast #830: This just in: looks like if you take the Bang out of Bangtan, you get a very bad girl. Rumor has it that our High Rise Princess isn’t as innocent as she portrays herself to be. Someone should really change her name to High Rise Porn Star.

The blood in your veins froze, lungs stopped inhaling breath, stomach dropped down to the floor. With your mouth hanging open and eyes wide in complete and utter humiliation, the color drained from your face. Because there plastered for the whole world to see on Gossip GIrl’s website was a photograph of yourself. But not just any photo, no.  

It was of you, lying beneath the silver silk sheets of a bed. Your hair was flowing free across the pillow, side profile exposed. And you were obviously naked, only the important bits covered by the sheet. Eyes closed in sleep, you were completely oblivious to the person responsible for the photograph.

The room was familiar. You would have recognized where the photo was taken even if it wasn’t. It was in one of the various guest suites at Jin’s lodge in the Alps. Where you’d been less than twenty-four hours ago. Where that exact picture was taken.

But that wasn’t what caused panic to well in your throat.

                But who is the one responsible for the deflowering of our pretty little princess? Take a closer look and you tell me.

Right below that was another photograph. A cropped version of the first that showed an arm poking out from underneath the covers. It was zoomed in just enough to be able to make out the lump of another body in bed with you. Luckily, the identity of the man couldn’t be seen as he’d burried himself under the sheets like a gopher.

“Fuck.”

           But if you think that’s bad, wait until you hear the rest of what I have to say. Looks like Bangtan aren’t as bulletproof as they want you to think. Let’s move on to our Golden Boy, shall we?

The message continued on, but with the way your vision clouded with panic, you wouldn’t have been able to read it even if you tried. Who the hell sent in that photo to Gossip Girl? And how did they even get the picture in the first place?

Hands shaking, you almost didn’t look when another text message pinged on your phone. But thankfully, it wasn’t from Gossip Girl. With a shaky exhale, you read over the text.

     “It wasn’t me, I swear. You know I would never do that to you.”

Your thumbs hovered over the touchscreen keyboard, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you debated messaging back.

                          “Please believe me.”

The chance to respond disappeared as the phone in your manicured hands rang. You hesitated, not wanting to answer, but knowing you couldn’t ignore it either. Not if you didn’t want him to show up on your doorstep fuming. You blew air out of your mouth nervously and swiped accept.

“He--”

“Family meeting. Ditch your classes and get here now.”

                                   Present Time

“What’s with all the screaming?”

The voice drew you from your thoughts and all sound in the room cut off as heads snapped up in unison.

In the wide entrance of the living room dressed like he was fresh off the runway was your brother. Your heart stopped in your chest and you silently prayed for a bolt of lightning to strike you down. Yoongi was what you would call an overprotective older brother. He’d always held you up on some sort of pedestal with high expectations that you tried so hard to meet. And you really, really didn’t want to see how he would look at you from your new place on the ground.

Yoongi’s cat-like eyes surveyed the room almost lazily, like he couldn’t be bothered to be there. Whether or not he was affected by the leak as much as everyone else was impossible to tell. Or it would have been if you hadn’t been so close.  

The story that the aggressively bitten nails on his fingers told of his anxiety at the circumstances. His messily styled hair spoke of how he’d threaded his hands through the strands over and over again in an attempt to gather his bearings. And the rhythmic way he clenched his jaw let you know that he was trying to hold himself together.

You hadn’t seen Yoongi like that in a long time. Not since he broke the news to your mother that he had no desire to take over the company. That she should give it to you, the one who actually wanted it, so he could pursue his dream of becoming a music producer instead. Suffice to say, she hadn’t taken it well.

“Finally!” Jimin raised his glass in an alcoholic salute. The scotch splashed dangerously around the rim and you side-eyed the man. Hopefully he wasn’t already drunk off his ass. “Welcome to the party.”

“All sunshine and rainbows here.” Hoseok leaned over to dig around in the breast pocket of his blazer draped across the couch and pulled out another joint. He waved it towards your brother with a smile that lacked its usual warmth. “You’re gonna need this.”

Your eyes dropped to the coffee table when Yoongi’s stare flickered over to you ever so briefly. A coward you definitely were. If you couldn’t even look your brother in the eyes, how in the hell were you supposed to face the rest of the world?

“Alright, listen up.” Jin, finally free of his finished cigar, captured everyone’s attention like the charismatic man he was. His dark gaze met each and every eye in the room before he stuffed a hand in the pocket of his slacks and continued. “One of us here is a dirty, backstabbing scumbag--”

“How are we even sure it was one of us?” Jungkook’s voice finally filled the room, dark brows scrunched once again. With a flash of pink he wet his lips and he glanced around at everyone present.

“The secrets that were leaked to Gossip Girl,” Namjoon leaned against the back of one of the couches, scotch glass filled once again. At the rate he was drinking, he’d be passed out face down in less than an hour. “Were only told to the people in this room. Well...”

Namjoon paused and his eyes found yours. “All but one, at least. But that’s not important.”

Your cheeks heated under the heavy weight of your childhood friend’s stares.

“Or were you too high off your ass to realize?” Taehyung addressed Jungkook, thankfully tearing the attention from you. He crossed his legs from his new spot leaning against the wall separating the living room from the kitchen. With his head tilted to the side, he analyzed the youngest with a look that threatened retribution. “Maybe it was you.”

“Why would I expose myself?” The tip of Jungkook’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek roughly. “Or any one of you? It was probably you.”

“Me?” A sharp, humourless laugh bubbled past the blond man’s lips. “I could lose my job for this shit. How stupid do you think I am?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow at Taehyung condescendingly.

“Arguing isn’t going to solve anything.” Hoseok’s vocal fry spoke over the impending argument before it could start. His eyes were bloodshot and it made you wonder just how high he was. You couldn’t blame him. Not with what he was probably re-living due to the recent exposure.

“Oh really?” Taehyung turned his anger towards the man sitting at your side, lips pressed into a thin line. “This is all your fucking fault. You’re the one who thought it’d be a good idea to drug us.”

Hoseok flinched so hard that you were surprised no one else could feel it. He didn’t respond, instead choosing to cast his eyes down at the persian rug under his feet. The brunette hair that shifted across his forehead did little to hide his crumpled, guilted expression.

“Fuck off, Taehyung.” Junkook’s nostrils flared as he leaned forward in his seat, elbows braced against his knees like he had to physically hold himself back.

“I mean, Tae kind of has a point, as shitty as it is.” From your left came Jimin’s adolescent-esque deep voice. The pink haired man’s stare was captivated by the way the amber liquid in his glass swirled with a flick of his wrist.

“Pointing fingers right now isn’t going to solve anything.” Jin pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“What do you suggest then, your royal highness?” No one commented on the sarcasm dripping from Taehyung’s tongue.

Instead, Jin stood tall and surveyed the room once again. “We’re going to sit here and go back over every single last detail of what occurred this past weekend. No one’s leaving until we figure out which one of us is the snake.”

He paused, face dark. “And you better pray to God that it isn’t you.”

You couldn’t stop your eyes from glancing at the man sitting near you. His own met yours and reflected the same fear that mixed a dangerous cocktail in the pit of your stomach.

“How will going over details help?” The question came from your brother. He’d been so quiet that you’d momentarily forgotten he was there.

He took a few steps further into the room, shedding his jacket along the way. Yoongi sat down in the empty seat next to Jungkook, who didn’t spare him a second glance.

“We weren’t all together the whole time.” Namjoon half-slurred. The scotch was heavy on his tongue, but you couldn’t really blame him either. “People who went off on their own have the highest probability of being the rat.”

“Okay then, let’s just go through everyone’s texts and emails. See who sent it in to Gossip Girl.” Jungkook leaned back into the couch with a shrug of nonchalance.

“Do you know how easy it is to delete a text or an email?” With a snort, Taehyung spoke slowly, like Jungkook was an invalid.

The youngest clenched his jaw in irritation. “Then we’ll just contact Gossip Girl and ask her.”

“You know she doesn’t reveal her sources.” Jimin murmured into his glass.

“I still don’t see how any of this will help.” Yoongi’s raised eyebrow disappeared underneath his blond bangs. The marijuana smoke from his exhale punctuated his words. “But whatever. The sooner we get this done the sooner I can leave.”

“Somewhere more important to be?” Taehyung crossed his arms across his chest.

Your brother looked unamused. “Unlike you, some of us actually work hard for a living.”

You could see the moment the anger behind Taehyung’s eyes burned deeper with rage. “Modeling is--”

“For fucks sake, shut up! You think you’re the only one with things to do?” Jin rolled his eyes and stepped between the two. Yoongi always knew which buttons to push to send someone right over the edge of self control. The eldest’s withering stare shifted over to a wavering Namjoon. “And stop drinking. You’ll be useless if you’re face down in a toilet.”

Jin’s sharp tone called everyone’s attention yet again as the elevator door dinged. From around the corner emerged one of the hotel’s many staff members. The suit wearing man pushed a large rolling whiteboard into the living room, the type that you usually only saw in crime television shows. The wheels squeaked lightly across the wood floor.

“There is fine.” Jin nodded at the staff member who disappeared with a bow of his head.

The eldest strode up to the board where it was situated in front of the room and picked up a black erase marker. He turned to the group as he uncapped it. “Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?”

                                Forty Hours Ago

“It’s cold.”

Turning to peer over your shoulder, you sent your brother a yeah, duh look. “We’re in the mountains in mid-December. What did you expect?”

From the roof of the resort, Yoongi stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the private helicopter pad that Jin had installed years ago for easy travel. His icy blond hair was pushed back from his pale forehead with a black headband and his mouth was pursed in a cute pout. Though he’d deny its existence if you pointed it out.

The daegu accent that he’d picked up from his past two years living in South Korea stretched out his words into one long drag. “I hate the cold.”

It seemed that not even the thick Givenchy coat drowning his smaller frame could keep him warm. And the fuzzy earmuffs nestled in your hair couldn’t protect your ears from his complaints.

“The sooner we get inside, the sooner we can get warm.” Your own gloved fingers wrapped around the padded material on his upper arm. Yoongi followed after you without resistance, though the pout failed to fall from his face.

Behind the two of you, a handful of staff members descended the helicopter pad’s steps with you and your brother’s suitcases in hand. Luckily it wasn’t snowing, but the wind from on top of the resort was harsh and sharp. It turned your nose into a runny, red mess within minutes. Which was why you couldn’t disappear behind the metal roof door soon enough.

A sigh of relief left your lips at the feeling of heated air hitting your chilled skin. Yoongi’s own grunt sounded from behind you while your fingers hurried to unbutton your thermal coat. The heels of your boots clacked against the hotel’s floor as the two of you strut down the hallway.

The resort was completely empty, as it always was that time of the year. Not because there was a lack of patrons, but because Jin would block out the weekend so your group could reunite before tackling the New Year. At the end of the hall, your fingers pressed the button to call the elevator. Yoongi, red cheeked and sniffling, leaned against the wall beside the closed steel doors and sighed.

“Something wrong?” Your voice was quiet in the empty hall. It’d been a long time since you’d seen him. And while you still managed to call each other at least once a week, it felt like there was some sort of rift between you. An invisible wall that you weren’t sure how to breach.

“No.” Yoongi’s cat-like eyes squeezed shut around a yawn. “Just tired.”

The dark bags under his eyes were prominent. He’d taken a flight from Korea all the way to New York, just so he could join you on another flight and helicopter ride to the resort. Two years ago Yoongi had moved out of the country to pursue his dream of becoming a music producer. And he liked to hide his failures from you as much as he could, but the dejected way he’d sounded on the phone the past few months told you everything he couldn’t.

He was struggling to make a name for himself outside of your mother’s. Yoongi was crazy talented, but he’d chosen to forgo the connections and opportunities that your family name could bring him to start from the bottom. He wanted to build himself from the ground up to prove to himself that he could do it. That he didn’t need your mother to succeed.

Though you supposed that you couldn’t blame just him for the feeling of separation between the two of you. The secret that you withheld from him threatened to drown you with guilt.

The elevator ride was quick and silent. Yoongi leaned against the corner of the steel box with his head flopped back against the wall. You stood at the opposite end, the handles of your purse dangling lazily. The air was tense, yet barren.

With a ding, the doors slid open and the marble flooring of the obnoxiously large and flashy lobby greeted you.

Past the rose gold pillars and other elevators was a classy seating area. Leather couches formed around a roaring, lit fireplace. And behind that were floor to ceiling glass windows that overlooked the snow-capped mountains. Standing in front of the fireplace and roasting himself like a marshmallow was a familiar head of pink hair.

Jimin turned at the sound of your footsteps, bare collar bones poking out from the top of his unzippered ski-coat. His hair was dripping with melted snow and the usual golden hue of his skin was heated with pink. Jimin’s plump lips pulled back into a grin, flashing you his crooked front tooth.

“Hey! Look who finally decided to arrive!”

Hoseok’s brown hair poked out from underneath the thick wool blanket thrown over his head from his seat on one of the couches. You could tell that someone had managed to get the scaredy cat out onto the ski slopes by the pale complection of his skin. His snow boots were scattered on the floor around the couch haphazardly while his fluffy-socked feet were tucked underneath his thighs.  

“Sorry we’re late.” Yoongi spoke from behind you, though his tone didn’t sound very apologetic.

“You missed the whole first day!” Jimin complained as he approached with his arms outstretched. He enveloped you into his hold first, his damp hair brushing the top of your head and his warm breath ghosting your ear. “It’s been a while, Princess. Glad to see you.”

“You too, Jiminie.”

Your own arms wrapped around the man’s slim shoulders and his sweet smelling cologne cocooned your nose with a scent you could only call Jimin. He gave your waist one last squeeze before parting from you and moving over to your brother. Yoongi wrinkled his nose in disgust, but didn’t move away when Jimin crushed him in a hug of his own.

Jimin hadn’t been lying. It really had been a while since you’d last seen each other. Even though you were the same age, you went to university at Columbia in the city and Jimin spent his days performing on Broadway. You’d only get to see each other when he had a gap between shows, or during the holidays when everyone had breaks in their schedules.

“You look miserable.” You smirked down at Hoseok as you stood in front of him. The older man looked like a pathetic, soggy burrito wrapped in the blanket like that. He pouted up at you with his heart-shaped lips and dimples and warm brown eyes.

“You have no idea.” Hoseok replied with a sniffle of his red-tipped nose. His socked feet hit the floor as he stood, towering over you. “But it’s nice to see you.”

If you had to rate your friends based on hugs, Hoseok would be the winner without a doubt. Despite his cold fingers, the rest of him was warm, familiar, comforting. Not counting your brother (though you weren’t so sure nowadays), Hoseok was the one you were closest to. His bright personality and welcoming persona drew you to him like the ray of sunshine he was nicknamed after.

“I just saw you two days ago, Hobi.” Your humor filled words were muffled into his shoulder.

His shrug pulled you closer. “Two days too long, Princess.”  

With a snort and a roll of your eyes, you pushed him away playfully. “You’re lame.”

Hoseok stumbled back into the couch dramatically with a hand pressed against his chest. He shot you a fake wounded look. “Lame? Me? Ouch.”

“You’re both lame.” Jimin butt into the conversation, slithering his way between the two of you to stand back in front of the fireplace. Ignoring the pink haired man, Hoseok darted over to your brother with a squee! His socks skid across the floor as he lifted the blond in the air with a tight hug of greeting.  

Yoongi made a noise of annoyance, though the gummy smile that overtook his face told a different story. Hoseok was one of the only people who were capable of bringing out Yoongi’s playful side. While the two of them had their reunion, you busied yourself with plopping down on Hoseok’s abandoned couch.

“Where’s everyone else?” You asked Jimin. The heat of the fireplace brushed the thick padding of your coat and threatened to make you break out into a sweat. With a few practiced movements, you managed to shed your plaid printed coat and scarf, leaving you in a knee-length green sweater dress and black leggings.

“I--”

Like magic, the front doors of the lobby swung open, bringing with it a gust of cold bitter air and the trademarked ha-ha-ha! of Namjoon’s loud laughter. In stumbled the rest of the group: Jin, Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jungkook.

“Is it lunchtime yet?” The question came from Jungkook as he shook out the snow from his hair. A pair of ski-goggles were perched on top of his head, but he ignored it in favor of stripping his hands of gloves. The bottom of his boots tracked in snow like it was his job, but it wasn’t like he noticed.

“We just ate two hours ago!” Jin scolded the younger without heat. His honey colored skin was splotched with shades of red from the cold air. Though somehow it only seemed to accentuate his handsome, angelic features.

“Yeah, but I’m starving.”

“Still a pig, I see.” The group stopped in their tracks at the sound of Yoongi’s voice echoing in the lobby.

With a big, boxy grin, Taehyung yelled in excitement and sprinted across the floor of the lobby, his own blond hair dripping wet. “Yoongi!”

“You’re tracking snow everywhere!” Jin’s shout carried well beyond the lobby.

                                Present Time

“That was way before we even played that stupid drinking game.” Taehyung grumbled in annoyance. His eyes were glued to the whiteboard as Jin neatly wrote out the list of events. He was having each and every person go over what had happened from their own point of view. “So why do we have to go over all the boring shit?”

Jin turned to glare at the blond over his shoulder. “Because what I said goes.”

Taehyung simply raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Well no one cares about this. Let’s just cut to the interesting bits.”

Before Jin could rip Taehyung to shreds with his heated scowl, Namjoon spoke around the rim of his glass of water. “I hate to agree, but I do.”

“Third.” Jungkook raised his hand in the air like a child in a school classroom.

“Fourth.” You finally spoke up, fingers toying with the cap of your bottle of San Pellegrino.

“Fifth.” Surprisingly, Jimin’s voice came out clear and uninfluenced by half the bottle of liquor he’d downed.

Yoongi just grunted his own agreement, eyes lidded with what looked to be exhaustion, but what you could tell was anxiety.

“Seriously?” Jin waved the marker in his hand around wildly. His eyes landed on Hoseok who just shrugged silently. He hadn’t spoken ever since Taehyung made that comment to him almost an hour ago. “Whatever. Fine. We’ll move on.”

The eldest took a swig out of his glass of scotch and turned back to the board. “We’ll start with the night of the game, then.”

                         Thirty-Two Hours Ago

“Okay, rules of the game.”

Namjoon stood in the center of the seating area with a shot glass full of tequila raised high above his head to gather attention. The eight of you were scattered around in a circle on the various couches and chaise lounge chairs in the sitting area of Jin’s room. It was long after the group of you hit the mountains for some intense snow tubing. And after you’d all headed back to your rooms to shower and get ready for dinner served by some michelin star chef that Jin staffed.

Now, with bellies full and body’s warm, you all sat around in your most comfortable clothes. Multiple bottles of alcohol were lined up on the bar in Jin’s room, but a handle of tequila was currently serving as centerpiece on the coffee table.

From your spot in the middle of the comfy couch, squished between Taehyung and Jimin, you had your own shot glass in hand. It’d recently been refilled, since the group took one together to start off the night. With fire seeping through your veins, you paid special attention to the words coming from Namjoon’s lips, even though you knew the rules of the game by heart. The crackle of the lit fireplace behind the other couch threatened to drown out his deep, raspy voice.

“The name of the game is Sip, Snitch, Spill, or otherwise known as Triple S. Starting from oldest to youngest,” Namjoon gestured to Jin with his shot glass, ignoring the tequila that spilled onto his fingers. He then turned in a slow circle clockwise. Everyone was sitting in age order.

Namjoon pointed at the empty beer bottle on the table. “The one who’s turn it is has to spin the bottle and whoever it lands on gets to choose the dare that the person who’s turn it is has to complete. If they opt out of completing the dare, then they have to spill a secret that no one here knows. But it can’t be something stupid that no one cares about; only top secret shit here. Each person only gets three seconds to decide which option to take.

“After that, everyone in the room gets the opportunity to snitch. If someone knows a secret about you that no one else does, they can snitch to the group and skip their turn. If you fail to take the dare, you have to take a shot. If someone snitches on you, then you have to take two shots.”

Everyone glanced at each other with mistrustful, playful eyes. While the game was fun, it was costly as well. Because in the world of the elite, nothing was more valuable than a secret.

“Do all here agree to the rules?” Namjoon raised a brow.

“Here, here!” The shouts of seven people filled the room and overpowered the music flowing from the surround sound speakers.

“Then let’s get messy.” A smirk lifted at the corner of Namjoon’s mouth as he finally took his seat on the other side of Hoseok.

“That sounds dirty. Let’s not.” Jin wrinkled his nose with a huff of amusement.

“What I think you meant to say was,” the comment came from Jimin as he unnecessarily knocked back a shot. “‘That sounds dirty. Let’s.’”

“Anyway.” Yoongi rolled his eyes and elbowed Jin in the ribs from his spot next to him on the love seat. “Start.”

The eldest hummed and rubbed at his chin dramatically as he eyed the empty beer bottle. Like he’d actually have a choice on who it landed on. Jin took his time leaning forward and grabbed the body of the bottle with three fingers, ignoring the groans of impatience coming from the circle. Finally, with a flick of his wrist, he spun it.

Around and around it went, the green of the glass glinting under the overhead lights. Everyone was at the edge of their seats, minds calculating what dare they’d make the elder do, as they waited for it to stop.

“Hah!” Hoseok cheered, doing a stupidly cute dance in his seat at the chances of being the first to give a dare. The leather chaise lounge he sat on made a sound of protest at his rapid movements. But he ignored it in favor of pointing a finger at Jin with a flourish. “I dare you to give Yoongi a lap dance!”

Ooooh!’s erupted from around the circle as each and every person screamed in excitement. Jin’s mouth dropped open in disbelief and he gaped at Hoseok with a look that said dude, seriously?

“Woo!” Jimin’s contagious giggle left his lips, eyes squeezed shut in amusement. “What a way to start.”

“I’m not drunk enough for that.” Jin knocked his shot back and grimaced at the taste. “I slept with my personal assistant last month. Then I fired her.”

“Wait, so if you were drunk enough then you’d do it?” Hoseok’s comment was rudely ignored by Jin.

“Linda?” Jungkook gaped at the older man from his place on the other lounge chair across from Hoseok. “Isn’t she in her late fifties?”

With a shrug of indifference, Jin poured himself another shot. “And?”

“Wow.” Taehyung tutted around the laughter that bubbled up his throat. “Did you really have to fire her though? That’s harsh.”

“She started to get feelings for me.” Jin shrugged yet again. “After I specifically told her not to.”

“Poor Linda.” With a shake of your head, you crossed one leg over the other. You could remember briefly meeting the woman once. She’d been kind yet carried a no-nonsense air about her, which made you wonder just how Jin had managed to bed her. Though you supposed he had his ways. He always did.

“Sometimes it’s hard to be this handsome.” The eldest’s unabashed response had everyone cringing as he broke out into his trademark windshield wiper laugh.

“Moving on.” Yoongi reached forward to spin the bottle without waiting for anyone’s attention. Everyone’s eyes were once again glued on the glass as it spun.

“Huh.” Namjoon hummed from his seat on the leather recliner next to Hoseok. The honey haired man steepled his fingers in front of his chin in thought.

“Why did it have to land on him?” Taehyung pouted. “He takes forever to decide.”

“I do not!” Though the seconds that ticked by into minutes told a different story.

It was clear the moment an invisible lightbulb went off over his head. The dimpled man jumped up from his chair and cleared the room to disappear around the corner into the kitchen. Before anyone could question what the hell he was doing, Namjoon reappeared back into the room with a gallon of skim milk and set it on the table in front of Yoongi.

“I dare you to chase every shot you take with a shot of milk.”

“Ew, what?” You stuck your tongue out in absolute disgust. Though it could barely be heard over the fake retching noises coming from the rest of the boys.

“What’s wrong with milk?” Jungkook asked innocently, causing everyone to shoot him a look.

Yoongi just stared at the gallon of milk thoughtfully before shrugging and knocking back his shot of tequila. The room watched on in shock as he then poured milk into the glass and swallowed that as well.

“Yoongi!” Jin pressed himself into the arm of the couch in an attempt to get as far away from your brother as possible. His handsome features were scrunched up in revolution. “You know you didn’t need to do that, right? Since you took the dare?”

With his gaze focused on refilling his shot glass with tequila, Yoongi’s face remained blank. “I’m not a bitch.”

“O-kay.” Hoseok dragged out the word with a grimace and slid forward on his chair to take his turn. “Let’s all just pretend we never saw that. Anyway.”

The game continued with Hoseok and Namjoon both taking dares. Hoseok had to strip down to his underwear and stand outside on the balcony for five whole minutes. He’d returned inside a shivering, pale mess. Jungkook had taken a ridiculous amount of pictures of him literally crying from the cold to hold over his head as blackmail at some later point in time.

Namjoon had been dared by Jin to order a bunch of lingerie to be delivered to his ex-girlfriend. That one had everyone begging him not to do it. Because unfortunately the last girl Namjoon had dated turned out to be a complete psychopath who stalked him for months on end after he dumped her. But the man just shrugged and stated, “I like them crazy.”

When it was Jimin’s turn, the pink haired man licked his lips in anticipation and spun the bottle. It didn’t turn very fast, just barely cleared two loops around the group before it pointed straight at you.

Jimin turned to you with a smile on his pretty lips. “Give me your best shot, Princess.”

Your own eyes narrowed at the challenge in his and you pursed your lips in thought. No way would you let him get off easily, especially not with the way he was looking at you. So with a smirk quirking your mouth, you spoke, “I dare you to call up your job right now and tell them you quit.”

Another round ooh!’s came from the group at your words and Jimin gaped at you in open mouthed disbelief. “Seriously?”

You gave Jimin a saccharine smile. Normally, you wouldn’t be so vindictive against him, but you were never one to turn down a challenge.

He knocked back his shot and slammed the glass down on the table with a glare directed at you. With a smack of his lips, Jimin begrudgingly addressed the group. “You know how I was able to join my broadway show after open auditions closed last year?”

Jimin’s eyes were glued to the table as everyone murmured their agreement. He was the only one out of your group who didn’t come from a successful family. Instead, he’d had to build both himself and his reputation from the ground up. It’d been hard on him, had taken a lot from him. But now, he starred in one of the most successful, famous broadway shows.

The silver rings on Jimin’s hand caught the light as he thumbed his plump bottom lip. His words came out hesitant, confession caught in his throat. “Yeah, well, I only got the spot because I slept with the director.”

“But you’re so talented!” Now you were the one staring in open mouthed shock. Never would you have expected that to come out of his mouth.

Jimin brushed off your comment and filled his shot glass once again. His words were murmured into the table. “They didn’t think so.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone took time to absorb the information. You weren’t kidding when you’d said that he was talented. You’d never seen someone who could dance as gracefully as he could or who could sing with the soft, unique voice that only Jimin possessed.

“Anyway,” he elbowed you gently and nodded at the bottle. “Your turn.”

The glass was cool under your fingers. You watched intently as around and around and around it went. There weren’t a lot of secrets that you had to hide from your group of friends. Usually, you were pretty transparent. Not only that, but you were the only one in Bangtan made a conscious effort to stay out of drama or scandals. Hence the nickname: High Rise Princess.

“Oh, no.” You groaned, throwing your head back against the couch. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you had the worst luck ever. God, you hated that game.

“Well, well, well. How the turn tables.” Jimin threw an arm around your neck teasingly and pulled you into his side. His fingers rubbed at his chin menacingly as he stared at you out of the corner of his eye. The man didn’t even try to hide his smirk. “Let’s see.”

“This’ll be good.” Taehyung relaxed back against the arm of the couch with a smirk of his own.

The second you saw Jimin’s eyes flicker to the blond and the cheshire-cat-esque smile on his face widen, you knew you were in trouble. He gave your shoulder a squeeze before letting go and pushing you over to Taehyung. “Okay, Princess. For your dare, you have to make out with Taehyung for a minimum of thirty seconds.”

The room exploded  and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You were known for being “pure” or whatever bull they labeled you as and the fact that you’d never dated any of them, it was kind of a big deal.

“Jimin, what the fuck?” All attention went to Yoongi, who was staring Jimin down with a harsh scowl. He really was overprotective of you when it came to pretty much anything. And that included any and all men.

Jimin just shrugged, but didn’t appear very apologetic. “Sorry, man. But she doesn’t have to do it.”

“I’m not a bitch.” You echoed your brother’s words from earlier before turning to Taehyung. His eyebrows were raised into his hairline and his mouth was agape, but the look in his eyes shone with sudden interest. So you couldn’t help tilting your head to the side and challenging, “unless you are.”

Hoseok’s loud screech and Jin’s obnoxious windshield wiper laugh overpowered everyone else’s exclaims of surprised disbelief. The fact that you weren’t even drunk meant that you couldn’t blame your actions on the alcohol. If you were being honest, you were just tired of everyone looking at you as some kind of sexual pariah. Like you were incapable of being intimate with another person. Maybe it was because you’d all grown up together that they saw you that way, you weren’t sure. But you hated it.

It was suffocating to have to force yourself to be someone that you weren’t.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that Taehyung was one of the most beautiful men that you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“I don’t want to see this. I’m going to the bathroom” Your brother rose from his seat with one last glare shot at both Jimin and Taehyung. “Don’t make me kick your ass.”

The atmosphere after Yoongi disappeared was the kind of tension that you only felt when watching a car crash. Like you just couldn’t look away. Hoseok was on the edge of his seat with his jaw hanging open, Jimin was frozen in a state of excited incredulity, across from you Jin covered his eyes with his hands while he continued to laugh, and Namjoon--

“Come here, Princess.” Taehyung scooted closer to you on the couch and gently placed his hands on either of your cheeks.

His warmth seeped into you from his palms and the husky scent of his Dior cologne washed over you. Taehyung was a touchy person by nature, so it wasn’t like he hadn’t cuddled up to you on multiple occasions. But this time was different. Be it from the way his eyes were half-lidded with an emotion you’d never seen him direct at you, or for the way his voice dipped a few octaves deeper from his usual baritone.

“You can still back out.” The words were spoken softly, only for your ears. But his eyes flickered down to your lips when you murmured,

“Why? You scared?”

Without acknowledging Hoseok’s squawk, Taehyung huffed. He didn’t even give you a moment to prepare yourself before he closed the distance and his mouth was on yours.

His lips were both warm and soft. And despite the firm way his hands held you in place, Taehyung’s kiss was gentle. Just the right amount of pressure that bordered on tender and not enough. So when you pressed your lips harder to his to deepen the kiss, you felt the smirk that twitched at the corner of his mouth as he obliged.

The heat of a stare burned into the side of your face, but you brushed it off in favor of parting your mouth at Taehyung’s questioning lick to your bottom lip. His tongue met yours in a dance and you could taste the remnants of tequila on his breath as his fingers tangled in your hair. Your own hands remained still in your lap, but you couldn’t help but press closer at his urging.

“And that’s time!” Jimin’s voice sounded from somewhere behind you. “Thirty seconds are up!”

Whether he didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him, Taehyung crushed his lips harder to yours in a breath stealing kiss.

“Or not.”

With one last lingering press of his mouth, Taehyung caught your bottom lip and dragged it slowly between his teeth as he pulled away. His fingers left your hair and he sent you a flirtatious wink before casually leaning back to his side of the couch, taking his warmth with him. All while dragging his tongue across his kiss bruised lips.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t at least a little bit turned on. It was no wonder he had both men and women falling at his feet left and right.

“That was hot, not gonna lie.” Hoseok whistled, falling back against his chair. “But weird at the same time.”

“Agreed.” Nodded Namjoon slowly. The expression on his face was a mixed bag, stuck somewhere between horror and something else.

“It was okay.” You shrugged nonchalantly, facing back towards the coffee table once more. Out of the corner of your eye Taehyung snapped his head towards you so fast that you were briefly concerned for the muscles in his neck.

“Oka-”

“It’s your turn.” The cheeky smile you sent Taehyung’s way coaxed a hard laugh out of Jimin.

The petite man threw an arm over your shoulders once more and pulled you into his side. Though with the way he could barely hold himself up with his body shaking laughter, it was more like he was leaning on you than the other way around. “A few months apart and it’s like you’re a whole new person. Who are you, Princess?”

The game continued once your brother returned from the bathroom. He’d entered the room and eyed Taehyung with a look that would have any lesser man trembling in his seat. But Taehyung had just given him his cute, boxy smile and took his spin.

Around and around the bottle spun as everyone took their turn. But it was only a matter of time before Jin finally snapped.

“Alright, this is boring! Everyone’s just picking dare and I want some juicy gossip.” His head fell back against the couch with a dramatic sigh. And he took a moment to bask in the attention of everyone in the room before he turned his head, rosy cheek pressed against the couch to address Hoseok. “Go make us some stronger drinks or something. I’m barely buzzed.”

Hoseok simply raised an eyebrow, arm still extended to take his turn.

“Yeah, Hoseokie.” Jungkook mocked in a high pitched voice, lips pursed in a dramatic air kiss. “Go make us drinks.”

“Yah, brat!” Said man kicked a foot half heartedly at Jungkook, not that it would have dealt any damage anyway seeing how far apart they were sitting. “Maybe if you ask nicely I will.”

“Nevermind.” With a shrug, Jungkook leaned back in his seat, “I don’t want it that badly.”

“Please, Hobi. I’ll take literally anything other than tequila.” Namjoon sent his full shot glass a dirty look. He always had preferred dark liquor.

“Well since one of you knows how to use their manners.” That was it took to have Hoseok hopping out of his chair and sauntering around the corner to the kitchen with a shout over his shoulder. “No one play without me!”

“Make something strong!” Jin called after him, standing up himself. Brushing off everyone’s eyes on him, he straightened his shirt and stepped away from the couch. “Bathroom. Be right back.”

And then he made himself scarce as well.

“Well since everyone’s taking a break.” Jimin was staring down at the screen of his phone. You could just barely see a name flash across the screen as it vibrated in his hand. Standing, he gestured blindly to the front door. “I gotta take this.”

“Which booty call is it?” Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows at the petite man suggestively right before he exited the room. “Not that it’ll do any good out here. Unless they can teleport.”

“That would be a cool superpower.” The comment came from Jungkook, who was busying himself by playing some game on his phone. No one paid attention to the sound of the front door closing.

“Right?”

“You guys are lame.” Yoongi absentmindedly toyed with the milk jug on the floor with his foot, his attention taken up by whatever was on his phone.

He either felt your stare or you were just that predictable, because Yoongi looked up to  scrutinize you. His eyes narrowed and flashed over to Taehyung and back to you with an eyebrow raised. A silent, questioning what’s was that?

You only shook your head with a roll of your eyes and the protective anger simmering behind your brother’s eyes dimmed at your wordless, nothing, relax. It was a little relieving that even with the distance between the both of you, the ability to read each other’s mind was still there. And must have felt similar if the small smile at the corner of his mouth was any indication.

“Alright!” Hoseok’s loud voice filtered into the room as he rounded the corner with a tray held between both hands. Eight glasses filled with a yellow, bubbling liquid were balanced on top and you took a moment to silently pray for luck.There was a reason why Hoseok was always chosen to make drinks. And you wouldn’t make it out alive if you didn’t pace yourself.

“Wow, perfect timing.” From around the corner leading to the hallway emerged Jin. He eyed the suspicious looking drinks as he reclaimed his seat. “What’s in it?”

With a noise to seal everyone’s fate, the tray was placed on the table. Both Yoongi and Jungkook looked up from their phones and Namjoon paused to eye the glasses. Hoseok just shrugged. “No idea. There’s like--”

He halted his words and you could literally see the way mentally made calculations in his head. “Like five different types of alcohol in those? I think.”

“Better than tequila at least.” Namjoon shrugged and grabbed a glass for himself. He hesitated for a moment to sniff at the contents, like that would somehow help him discern what it was he was about to drink. And finally, he shrugged and took a tiny sip.

Everyone’s attention was on him as he tongued his lips and hummed. “Not bad. Kinda sweet actually.”

Namjoon’s conscensious was apparently all anyone else needed because you all reached forward to grab your own. But you couldn’t help but suspiciously eye the liquid in your cup first.

“Where’s Jimin?” Jin asked around a big swallow and an obnoxious smack of his lips.

“Taking a phone call.” Taehyung walked around Hoseok, who was still standing in front of the table, and reached for a dangerous cocktail. “He’ll probably be a while.”

“Should we wait then?” You asked.

“It wouldn’t be as fun without him.” Hoseok winked down at you. “Who knows what other secrets he has.”

“Messy.” Shaking his head, Jin snorted into his glass.

“Like you’re one to talk.” Jungkook stated nonchalantely, though the shit eating smirk on his lips told another story.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

You tuned out the bickering between the eldest and the youngest, especially when Taehyung joined in. Somehow they always managed to bring out the immature side of Jin, not that the mature side of the man appeared that often either. The alcohol was sweet, yet tangy on your tongue with an addictive aftertaste that chased away the bitter remnants of tequila. It was easy to drink more than intended with how difficult it was to percieve the alcohol content.

“Hey, Hoseok.” Namjoon’s raspy voice was almost drowned out by the yelling between the others. Both Hoseok and yourself looked over to the dimpled man, only to see him completely enraptured by the glass in his hands. Namjoon’s voice came out unsure, confused. “What did you put in this?”

“What?” Perplexed, Hoseok tilted his head. “I told you, like five--”

Namjoon cut him off with a small shake of his own head. “No. What did you put in this?”

“I don’t--”

“Did you drop acid in these?” Namjoon’s question caught the curiosity of the others in the room. Even Yoongi looked up from whatever he was reading on his phone.

Hoseok sent his drink a puzzled look. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” Mouth agape, you stared up at the man with a look of disbelief. “How do you not know?”

By the wide-eyed look he shot your way, you could already garner a guess. And apparently so could everyone else.

“Have you been tripping this whole time?” Taehyung collapsed back onto his end of the couch laughing so hard that you were a little concerned for the liquid splashing at the rim of his cup.

“Uh.” How you all missed his dialated pupils were was incredible. Hoseok paused for a moment before whirling around to face Namjoon. “Wait, how would you even be feeling it this quick if I had? It’s been like ten minutes, it shouldn’t have hit if I did.”

“Yeah?” Namjoon was still staring incredulously at the almost empty glass clutched in his hand. “Then why is my cup looking at me right now?”

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right!” The sudden panic that welled up in your chest surged to your throat as you waved your almost empty cup at Hoseok. “I just drank like all of this! What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Never in your life had you ever taken fucking acid. Maybe some marijuana here or there, but that was about the extent of your recreational drug experience. God, what the hell had you gotten yourself into?

“Not freak out, that’s for sure.” Taehyung wet his lips and raised his glass to you in a salute before knocking it back. His adam’s apple bobbed as he chugged the whole glass of alcohol in one go.

“Maybe you should go lay down.” From across the room your brother gave you a concerned once over. He was extremely calm given the circumstances. Then again he used to hang out with Hoseok the most so he’d probably actually partaken before. “Try and sleep it off before it hits.”

Slowly, you nodded in agreement, already rising from the couch. You were pretty positive that you were the only person in the room who hadn’t taken the drug. And the thought of experiencing LSD was enough to tighten your chest with panic. Maybe it would be best if you tried to sleep before it properly hit your system.

“I think that’s a good idea.”

“Wait.” Hoseok stumbled over to you and grabbed at your arm. Before you could process what was happening, he slipped a pen out of the pocket of his pants and glanced over at the clock hanging on the wall. The scratching of the pen against your skin caught your attention as Hoseok wrote out the time from ten minutes ago.

“What’s this for?”

“That’s the time you drank it. It’ll be important later just in case you don’t know when or where you are.” Ignoring your I’m sorry, what?, Hoseok looked up at you from underneath his lashes. “Since this is your first time, I need you to pay strict attention to what I’m about to say, Princess. Got it?”

All you could do was nod your head, mind too overrun by alarm. Hoseok paused for a moment to convey the importance of what he was about to say next.

“Three rules for being on acid. One, and this doesn’t really apply to this situation, but it’s important: cars are real, okay? Two: anything you want to try, do it from the ground first. And three: don’t trust everything you see.”

“Very imformative.” Came Namjoon’s sarcastic reply. “Would have been helpful ten minutes ago.”

Hoseok paid no heed to the comment, too busy looking you over with concern. “Do you want me to walk you to your room?”

How he was completely functional was mind-blowing to you. But then again, with the amount of pressure his parents put on him to take over a company that he didn’t want, you weren’t surprised by the frequency of how much he tried to make himself forget.

“I think I’ll be okay.” You reassured both Hoseok and the rest of the room with a small smile. Gratefully, no one commented on how forced it was.

The only thing you wanted to do was collapse in bed before it was too late. Besides, it wasn’t like you weren’t tired anyway. It’d been a long day.

“If you’re sure.” Hoseok flashed his dimples and the rest of the room bid you goodnight as you slipped from the room.

                               Present Time

“Why are you all staring at me?” You asked incredulously.

“Because you left early.” The capped end of the marker tapped against Jin’s cheek from where he stood in front of the almost filled whiteboard.

“And?”

“And.” Jin stared at you over the rim of his glass of scotch. “That makes you a suspect.”

“Are you being serious right now?” Gaping, you surveyed the rest of the room to find them all looking at you with various degrees of doubt.

From your side piped up Hoseok for the first time in hours and the hoarsness of his voice showed it. “Wait, wait, wait. She wasn’t the only one who left. Besides, wouldn’t that not make her a suspect since she wasn’t even there when we all told each other our secrets?”

His statement gave Jin pause.

Yoongi scrunched his eyebrows together in bewilderment at the statement. “Who else left?”

A moment of silence.

A quick intake of breath.

Hoseok turning to stare at you with wide eyes that knew too much. And it seemed like he wasn’t the only quick witted one in the room because Namjoon’s jaw dropped open in shock.

“I’m confused.” Jin pursed his lips in annoyance at the scene. “Explain.”

Hoseok just shook his head, scandalized. And upon seeing how Hoseok failed to explain, Namjoon took it upon himself to do the honors, ignoring your pleading eyes with an apologetic expression. The fucking traitor.

He cleared his throat, “One person left the room after her. Remember?”

Said person froze, eyes wide and breath stalling in his throat as all attention switched to him.

“Oh yeah.” Nodding, Jin turned his analysing gaze to the person in question. “Where did you go?”

You could literally see the moment that the cogs in your brother’s brain halted and the split second the realization slowly dawned on his face. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension as your brother stood from the couch with absolute rage clouding his face. Fists clenched at his sides like he had to physically stop himself from exploding, Yoongi’s words were bitten out between his teeth.

“You fucked my sister?”

“I-” Jungkook sprang up from the couch, hands raised in surrender and doe eyes blown wide. The rest of the room was too busy staring on in shock (Taehyung), or in messy interest (Jimin), or open mouthed surprise (Jin) to step inbetween Jungkook and your brother. “It’s not what you think.”

Yoongi was seething, tonguing his cheek in a way that warned how close he was to snapping. “Not what I think.”

Jungkook nodded his head vigorously, shooting you a look begging for an assist. But you didn’t know what to say to stop it. And upon noticing your hesistation, Jungkook turned back to your brother and uttered a sentence that sealed his fate in the worst way possible.

“We’re not even dating!”

While Jungkook had enough muscle and strength to disuede a majority of people from trying to pick a fight with him, Yoongi was small and lithe, but strong in a way that most people wouldn’t expect. Your brother had been in many fights throughout the years; he used to hang around the wrong crowd growing up. He was rarely angry, his patience was almost never ending. But if you managed to push him over that line, well, everyone knew not to get on Yoongi’s bad side.

His face clouded, feet carrying him into Jungkook’s personal space. Yoongi’s voice was dangerous and words slow. “So you’re just using my sister for sex?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened even further with panic, but he didn’t step down, didn’t move out of your brother’s range. “That’s not--that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah? Then what did you mean?” Even you could tell that the question was rhetorical.

The tenstion of an impending fight finally spurred you to stand up and stumble a few steps closer to the pair, voice pleading. “Yoongi.”

He turned to glance at you from over his shoulder with furious cat-like eyes and hackles bristled. His stare froze you in your tracks, but you continued on regardless. “It’s fine.”

“Fine.” Yoongi’s tone was blank before he rounded on you. “How long?”

There was nothing that would ever make you feel as small as the way he was looking at you right then. Like he didn’t know who you were, like he was staring into the face of a stranger. Your voice was tiny. “A few months.”

Your brother nodded his head, lips tight. “So you’ve been going behind my back, lying to me, for months?”

He rounded back on Jungkook. “You’ve been fucking my sister for months?”

Again, the question was rhetorical, but apparently Jungkook missed the way you quickly shook your head at him to keep his mouth shut. “I--yes?”

You knew it was coming and yet you we still taken by surprise.

A crack rang heavy in the air as Yoongi’s fist impacted Jungkook’s face. He stumbled back with a hand flying to grasp at the pain you knew was radiating through his jaw. But Jungkook didn’t hit back, didn’t give your brother the fight that he was looking for. He just stood there, palm pressed to his face and eyes rooted to the floor. You couldn’t make out his expression by the way his long hair fell in front of his face like a curtain.

Yoongi, however, looked far from satisfied.

By the was his back tensed, you knew that he was going to go for seconds, and probably thirds, maybe even fourths. Until he felt like Jungkook had paid enough retribution for him to stop. And that, it seemed, was where Jin drew the line.

“Yoongi.” Jin’s voice was almost hesitant. Even the elder man knew that your brother was on a very short fuse and didn’t want to be on the recieving end of the backlash.

Yoongi’s attention flickered over to Jin for a split second and that was all it took for the elder man to step forward. “Kick his ass later, I don’t care. But now isn’t the time; we have bigger fish to fry.”

There was a long, tense filled silence where no one dared to move. Jin just stood his ground, gaze holding your brother’s and refusing to back down. And whether or not that's what broke the fight apart, you weren’t sure. But with one last hostile glare at Jungkook, Yoongi turned on his heel and brushed past you without a second glance.

“Do what the fuck you want.”

The balcony door slammed shut so hard you flinched.

“That was..,” Taehyung let out a low whistle, shaking his head at Jungkook first and then you. With a wiggle of his eyebrows, he smirked. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Princess. Congrats on finally losing your innocence.”

You weren’t one to pick a fight with anybody, didn’t like confrontation. But all of the stress made you snap. “Shut your fucking mouth, Taehyung.”

From the corner of your eye, Jimin sipped at his scotch with eyes flitting back and forth between you and the blond to watch the drama unfold. There was a pause in the air before Namjoon filled it. “Let’s just finish what we came here to do.”

His words went in one ear and out the other, your attention focused more on the figure of your brother slumped over the balcony railing. Your feet carried you across the room before you could second guess yourself. The handle of the sliding door was cold against your palm as you slid it open. And the sudden breeze that hit your face was biting.

Cigarette smoke.

Yoongi hadn’t smoked cigarettes since he was in highschool. You didn’t even know where he got one. Guilt sank heavily in your stomach at being the catalyst to the habit he’d spent so long trying to kick.

Not even the noise of city life could cover the sound of your heart beating a tattoo into your rib cage. Yoongi didn’t move, didn’t even turn to look at you when you stood next to him. He just continued to stare down at the people below who covered the streets like ants. A lit cigarette dangled in his hand over the railing, white smoke disappearing into the sky. You let the quiet stretch for a few moments longer in order to gauge his anger. And when he failed to acknowledge your presense, you spoke.

“I wanted to tell you.” The words that left your lips were carried by the wind, but you knew he heard them anyway by the way his jaw clenched in your periphrial. A deep breath, and then, “But I was afraid.”

Whatever he thought you were going to say must not have been that because he angled his head to look at you. But you kept your vision trained on the cars passing far below. The silence he responded with urged you to continue.

“I didn’t want you to look at me the way you are now.”

Yoongi rubbed the end of his cigarette against the railing to extinguish it. And finally, his deep voice broke the bubble that encased the two of you. “You thought I���d be disappointed.”

Leave it to him to be able to dig right to the root of your problems with barely any information. He was called a genuis for a reason, you supposed.

A huff of dry laughter passed your lips. “Which you are.”

“Only because you hid it from me.”

His response had you turning to look over at him. Yoongi was staring at a spot on the building across from you without seeing it, jaw sharp and cheeks already turning red in the winter air. It was a testiment to his anger that he was even enduring it in the first place.

“You really think I’d be disappointed in you for being an adult? You must not know me as well as I thought then.”

He turned, brown eyes meeting your own like a mirror. People always used to say that the two of you looked alike, could pass as twins even. “I don’t want to hear the details of your...business, but I thought you’d at least trust me enough to confide in me that you’re in love with him.”

Yoongi’s words took you aback and you gaped at him in shock. “How did you know?”

He simply raised an eyebrow with a silent really? “It’s pretty obvious.”

“Seriously?” You spluttered, spit catching in your throat. Had you really been that obvious? Talk about embarassing.

He sighed. “I think the only person who hasn’t realized is him.”

Groaning, you buried your face in your hands. “Do you think anyone would notice if I just jumped over the railing right now?”

Yoongi hummed, not even trying to hide his amusement. “I don’t think Jin would want to have to fill out that kind of paperwork.”

“He’ll live. Might even thank me for the free publicity.”

A snort left your brother before he sobered and leaned his elbows on the railing. A comforting pause and then, “I got signed to a record label.”

“What?” You twisted to the side to stare him down as he nervously ran a hand through his blond hair. “As a producer?”

Yoongi’s eyes met your again, most likely trying to gauge your reaction to what he was going to say next. Whatever he found must have satisfied him. “As an artist.”

“Yoongi.”

He broke eye contact to once again stare down at the tiny dots below. “That’s where I was this morning. I was signing my contract.”

Your hands came up to grasp onto the arm closest to you and you squeezed to gain his attention. “That’s so great, Yoongi! I know you used to rap back in the day, but I didn’t know you still did. I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be so amazing!”

A gummy smile finally found its way onto his face as he looked at you with masked excitement. “Yeah?”

“Seriously, Yoongs.” You nodded your head with rapid quickness, a grin revealing your teeth. “I want the first copy of your album. And it better be signed too.”

Yoongi hissed through his teeth. “You’ll have to pay a premium for that, sorry.”

Your hand slapped the covered meat of his arm and your laughter that intermingled with his broke through the invisible wall between you. “Aish. Cheapskate.”

His lips parted, most likely to shoot off a sarcastic response, but the sliding of the balcony door interrupted. Both of you turned to look over at Namjoon standing in the entryway. His face was taut with an emotion you couldn’t discern, but with the way raised voices spilled from the open door answered your unasked question. You exchanged glances with Yoongi before trailing after him as he brushed past Namjoon.

Everyone was standing now, attention trained on the way Taehyung once again stood in the center of the room. He glanced up from the phone in his hand at the entrance of you and Yoongi, his other stuffed deep in the pocket of his slacks. The air he carried was haughty, knowing. And he greeted you with a raise of his brows.

“Well, now that we’re all present, let’s get this out of the way, shall we?”

“What’s going on?” Your feet came to a halt as you slid in to stand next to Hoseok and your brother. The former gave you a tiny smile at seeing the tenstion between you and Yoongi gone.

“What’s going on,” Taehyung waved his phone in the air like a token. “Is that while you two were off settling your differences, I got a text.”

“Congratulations.” Yoongi deadpanned, but the model ignored him in favor of continuing.

“I think you’ll be interested in what I have to say.” Taehyung shrugged and barreled on without waiting for a response. “Because you see, while you all were too busy playing Clue, I got into contact with my cousin earlier this morning. You know, the one who works for my mother’s magazine company?

“Anyway, as you all probably aren’t aware of, my cousin used to do some side work with the government in cybersecurity. And wouldn’t you know, Gossip Girl isn’t as untouchable as she thinks.”

“Oh, shit.” Namjoon’s eyes widened as he came to the same conclusion that was slowly starting to dawn on everyone else.

“Oh shit is right.” Taehyung nodded. “My cousin found a backdoor past her firewall and straight into the heart of her most coveted possession.”

The man paused, like a movie villian right before a grand reveal. “Her sources.”

“And?” Jin tossed the dry eraser he still held in his hand onto the coffee table imaptiently.

“And wouldn’t you know,” once again, Taehyung waved his phone back and forth in the air like the cat that caught the canary. “At exactly 3:32 this morning, she got an email from a recipient by the name of...”

“I swear to god, stop playing games Taehyung.” Yoongi huffed out in annoyance at the dramatics the other man was playing at.

“So impatient.” Taehyung tutted, arrogant stare meeting everyone else’s before he finally opened his mouth and dropped the bombshell.

“Park Jimin.”

Said man stared open mouthed at the man in shock, unable to formulate a proper response over all the shouts of anger. Jimin threw his hands up in surrender and backed up until his calves hit the side of the couch. “What? No--I--it wasn’t me, I swear!”

“Yeah?” Taehyung stepped into his personal space and shoved his phone under his nose. “Then explain the evidence.”

“I--”

“You were the only one who wasn’t drugged that night.” The blond continued, bulldozing over Jimin’s high-pitched voice. “You were the only one sober who was present when the rest of us confided our private affairs. And--”

His finger jab into the smaller man’s chest. “You’re the only one who had something to gain from ratting us out.”

“Gain what, exactly?” Jin’s voice was steel, broad shoulders straightened with a quiet rage that honestly scared you.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Taehyung glanced at Jin from over his shoulder before digging his finger into Jimin’s chest harder. “He was offered a large sum of money to take us all down.”

“By who?” This time the question came from Namjoon, who’s expression was clouded over with a mix of betrayal and the want for retribution. He had the most to lose out of all of you from the leak afterall.

“That’s a good question.” The model rounded back on a wide-eyed Jimin. “Who indeed.”

“Look,” Jimin liked his lips anxiously under the weight of everyone’s simmering fury. “They offered, but I refused--”

“Who?” Jin stalked over to the petite man, the air around him dangerous.

“I-I don’t know.” Jimin stammered. “They were anonymous. But I swear I didn’t--”

He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Jin fisted the front of his shirt and shook him hard. You could hear his teeth rattle from feet away. “You little fucking rat.

“I want you to listen, and listen very carefully.” The elder man’s voice was sharp, syllables carefully annunciated. And with a flex of the muscles in his bicep he threw Jimin from his grip so hard that the smaller man stumbled to the floor. “You have twenty-four hours to get the fuck out of my city before I do something that I’ll regret.”

From his place sprawled out on the floor, Jimin’s pleas to be heard went ignored.

“And if I ever catch wind of you stepping even a toe over the state line, it’s over for you.” Everyone in the room knew that Jin’s threat wasn’t to be taken lightly; he’d follow through on his word. “Now get the fuck out of my hotel and pray that I never see your face again.”

Jimin’s eyes quickly flitting back and forth between the seven of you as if trying to find someone to take up for him, to plead his case. And when his gaze met yours, you broke eye contact, choosing to stare at the rug under your feet instead. The feeling that churned your gut was heavy as your heart slowly hardened towards a man who you couldn’t even look at anymore. Who you were once able to call a best friend.

The heels of Jimin’s shoes scuffed the floor as he slowly stood, lips parting to give one final parting blow. “You really shouldn’t trust everything you hear.”

And then he was gone.

Betrayal tested bitter on your tongue.

                               Six Hours Later

The sound of the elevator door opening halted you in your tracks with one foot on the staircase leading up. Out from within the confines of the steel box stepped a familiar head of dark hair and your heart stopped in your chest before picking up speed.

“What are you doing here?” Your lips parted at the object held tight in one of his hands, the pop of color catching your eye. “And with those.”

“I--” Jungkook licked his lips and threaded his free hand through his locks. The nervous look on his face was something you hadn’t seen aimed at you before and it caused a feeling you didn’t want to acknowledge to well up in your chest.

He stepped further into your apartment, his all black outfit standing out against the bright interior. You hadn’t seen him since everyone left Jin’s earlier. He’d departed so fast that you hadn’t been able to apologize for the way Yoongi punched him. And now there he was, fidgeting in the middle of your foyer.

“I wanted to talk.” Jungkook’s voice caressed your ears.

“Okay.” You nodded slowly, stepping down from the stairs and gesturing to the sitting room across from you. He trailed behind as you entered and sat down on one of the couches. But instead of sitting somewhere else, he plopped down right next to you. The paper in his ringed hand crinkled around the two dozen roses it contained.

Jungkook hesitated for a moment before shyly extending the bouquet out for you to take. Your fingers brused against his as you slowly accepted them from his grasp. “I got these for you.”

You completely and utterly failed at hiding your smile and chose to bury your nose into the soft petals to distract yourself from the anxious way he played with his hands. Sweet, they smelled sweet. “What’s the occasion?”

Never had he ever done something like that before. Jungkook and romance wasn’t something that went together in your expierience. And there it was again, that feeling that you chose not to name.

“Y/N.”

The seriousness in his voice had your head jerking upwards. He was staring down, fiddling with one of the rings on his fingers. “I think we should stop.”

Your stomach dropped to the floor and your mouth went numb around the response you forced yourself to give. “Stop?”

Jungkook’s gaze lifted to meet your blank stare and he nodded slowly. “Stop hooking up.”

You were thankful that he didn’t comment on how small your voice sounded. “Why?”

“Because,” his fingers grabbed at yours gently and you couldn’t help but drop your eyes to the way he intertwined them. “I don’t want to hook up with you anymore.”

His grip on you tightened when you tried to pull away, his other hand lifting your chin until you looked at him again. Jungkook’s lips were parted, two prominent front teeth displayed. “I want to date you.”

A pause.

A sharp intake of breath and the tightening of fingers. “I’m sorry, what?”

Now he definitely looked nervous. Jungkook’s words came out quickly, like he was afraid you’d stop him before he could get them all out. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Y/N. And I thought that maybe if you hooked up with me, you’d fall for me too. But I...I don’t want to lose you because I took too long.”

All you could do was stare open-mouthed and bug eyed. And the longer you took, the more Jungkook started to fidget. “Look, please just say something.”

“You’re an idiot.” He flinched at the deadpan tone in your voice. “I’ve been in love with you for the longest time.”

“Really?” Hope filled his voice and he leaned closer, both hands capturing yours. “Seriously?”

Giddy, you grinned so hard your cheeks hurt under the strain. “Yes, really.”

“Can I--can I kiss you?” With a shy nod, you let Jungkook’s hands come up to gently cradle your cheeks.

It was different, the way his mouth captured yours. Instead of the fierce desire he usually kissed you with, this time it was slow, gentle. And god his lips were soft and your heart rate skyrocketed at the love that showed through the way he pressed against you.

“Don’t make me kick your ass.”

The deep voice of your brother had you and Jungkook pushing away from each other like teenagers caught by their parents. And both of your necks snapped over to see Yoongi walking past the entryway to the sitting room. A teasing smirk was aimed your way as he continued on his path to the elevator.

“Mind your business!” Your shout was met with Yoongi’s high-pitched giggle.

                            Eighteen Hours Later

      Well, UpperEast Siders, did you enjoy the story? Because I sure did. Oh, and what’s this? Looks like not even a dark scandal can force Bangtan out of the light.

Laughter rang loud through the busy resturant and all eyes turned at the sound. But the seven of you paid no mind to the stares.

“A toast.” Jin stood in the middle of the half circle you all formed around the bar, a glass of bubbly champagne raised high. “To lifelong friendship.”

         Spotted: Manhattan’s King. But can he really be crowned royalty when his throne was built on the steps of family betrayal? I’d say just ask his brother, but, well, be careful or you might just disappear too.

“And,” Namjoon raised his own glass into the air, golden liquid catching the light. “To trust.”

          Oh, and what’s this? I wonder, how will our lovely God of Destruction talk his way out of jail time? Tell me, do they teach you how to get away with embezzlement in law school?

Hoseok’s dimples came out to play around his own bright smile. “Don’t forget loyalty.”

          It’s a surprise that Manhattan’s Sunshine is even able to stand underneath the weight of a dead body. And if the allegations are true? Well, stay away from drugs, kids.

“And love.” The addition came shyly from your lips as you gazed warmly up at the man to your side. Jungkook’s lips pressed fondly to your forehead.

            If anyone needs help passing their SAT’s, make sure to hit up our Golden Boy. Surely he’ll get you a passing grade if the price is high enough.

“To success.” Yoongi smiled and raised his glass in a salute, skin glowing.

            Can a Genius really be a genius if he has to buy his way to a degree? Someone’s money should have gone towards a tutor instead.

The sound of seven glasses clinking together overpowered the other voices in the room. “Here, here!”

             Everything appears to have gone back to normal ever since our resident Pretty Boy was outed as a little tattletale.

It was raining.

Water pelted the top of his umbrella, the soft plop-plop-plop blending into the noise of city life. People bustled around him, but he didn’t pay it any mind. No, instead his focus was rooted to one spot, one person who he could see through the glass windows of the resturant. One person who’s profile he would recognize anywhere.

He watched, silent, as the man threw his head back in laughter that ghosted his ears. And either he felt the stare burning into the side of his face, or he was expecting him to be there. Because with a turn of the neck, brown eyes met brown. And the tension was palpable on his tongue even through the walls that separated them.

             Out with the old and in with the new, that’s what I always say. Oh, and one last thing:

A haughty smirk turned up the corners of Taehyung’s lips and Jimin watched with narrowed eyes as the blond man raised his glass of champagne in a silent salute.

  You really shouldn’t trust everything you hear.

                                         xoxo,

                                    Gossip Girl

[claudia1829things]

"MANK" (2020) Review

"MANK" (2020) Review When it comes to biopics about Hollywood history, I must admit that I have a slight addiction to them. I really enjoy reading about Hollywood history. And I especially enjoy reading about the industry's so-called "Golden Age". So, when I learned about the upcoming release of "MANK", a biopic about Hollywood screenwriter, Herman J. Mankiewicz, I was pretty eager to see it.

However . . . I never got the chance to watch "MANK" in movie theaters during the fall/winter of 2020-2021. "MANK" had the bad luck to be released while the entire world was in the grip of the COVID-19 pandemic. Although Netflix had released the film in theaters for a limited period in November 2020, the streaming service/production company eventually released it on its streaming service the following month. Because of this, a good number of months had passed before I had eventually watched it on television. "MANK" began in 1940, when the then young wunderkind Orson Welles hired veteran screenwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz to write the screenplay for his new movie, "CITIZEN KANE". Unfortunately, Mankiewicz is in Victorville, CA; recovering from a broken leg he had sustained in a car crash. With the assistance of his secretary Rita Alexander, he becomes aware of the similarities between the movie's main character and newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst. This awareness not only inspired Mankiewicz to work on Welles' screenplay, but also led him to recall his history with Hearst, the latter's mistress, Marion Davies; and the smear campaign against Upton Sinclair's 1934 California gubernatorial campaign. Since "MANK" is not a documentary, but a historical drama, I knew that its narrative would not be completely accurate. However, I do believe that screenwriter Jack Fincher and his brother, director David Fincher, took a lot of liberties in regard to historical accuracies. Perhaps too much. Yes, the movie featured historical accuracies that included Mankiewicz's car accident and broken leg, his employment with both Paramount Pictures and Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios, Upton Sinclair's bid for Governor of California in 1934 and of course, Mankiewicz's collaboration with Welles and John Houseman on "CITIZEN KANE". However, the main problem with "MANK" is that Jack Fincher tried to connect the efforts to undermine Upton Sinclair's gubernatorial campaign with Mankiewicz's screenplay for "CITIZEN KANE". And it did not exactly work. It failed to work due to Mankiewicz's political beliefs. Considering that Sinclair had ran for governor as a Democrat, it seemed implausible that Mank would have been that upset over the state's business leaders - which included movie studio chief Louis B. Mayer, studio producer Irving Thalberg; and newspaper magnates like Hearst and Harry Chandler - going out of their way to undermine Sinclair's campaign. Mankiewicz's politics tend to skewer toward conservative, except when it came to fascism. It seems quite obvious that Jack Fincher needed an explanation for why Mankiewicz had been willing to write "CITIZEN KANE", a scathing portrait of William Randolph Hearst. So he invented one. But you know what? I find myself wondering what topic had really caught the Finchers' attention - Mankiewicz's connection with Hearst, Davies and "CITIZEN KANE"; or the 1934 California gubernatorial election. Because honestly . . . it seemed as if both screenwriter and director were more interested in the latter. If that was the case, then the Fincher brothers should have solely focused the movie's topic on the election. I have another quibble about "MANK". One I found some of the dialogue in the film's first half hour a bit too stylized for my tastes. In one early scene, it seemed as if the Finchers had tried too hard to recapture a West Coast version of the Algonquin Round Table. Also, why did the Finchers shot this film in black-and-white? What was the point? Because to me, this decision to film in black-and-white seemed like another attempt at a homage to Hollywood's Golden Age via a gimmick. And I am getting weary of gimmicks - especially unnecessary ones in Hollywood productions. Otherwise, I did not have a problem with "MANK". There are at least three reasons why I ended up enjoying this film. One, the movie featured a first-rate character study of Herman J. Mankiewicz. I have read a good deal about him. Granted, the movie was not completely honest in the writer's characterization. The latter's political beliefs would have never led him to get upset, let alone outraged over the campaign against Upton Sinclair. However, David Fincher's screenplay did a very admirable job in capturing Mankiewicz's other traits - including his wit, his addictions and air of weariness. If I must be frank, I believe Gary Oldman's superb performance achieved this even more than the Finchers' screenplay and direction. Two, although I found the creation of "CITIZEN KANE" rather interesting, it did not strike me as particularly unique. Well . . . I take that back. "MANK" did tell this story specifically from the screenwriter's point-of-view. The 1999 HBO film, "RKO 281", told this story mainly from Orson Welles' point-of-view. However, the movie's depiction of Hollywood's connection to California's 1934 gubernatorial election struck me as the film's more interesting and original aspect. This was especially apparent in scenes that featured a montage of the phony newsreels criticizing Sinclair and the election's final night. One aspect of "MANK" really impressed me - namely the performances featured in the film. They either ranged from competent performances from the likes of Tom Pelphrey as Joseph Mankiewicz, Charles Dance as William Randolph Hearst, Ferdinand Kingsley as Irving Thalberg, Joseph Cross as Charles Lederer, Toby Leonard Moore as David Selznick, Sam Troughton as John Houseman, Bill Nye as Upton Sinclair and Arliss Howard as Louis B. Mayer. Mind you, I believe there were times when Howard's performance threatened to become a bit too theatrical. But I still enjoyed it. I was very impressed by the performances from Tuppence Middleton as Sara Mankiewicz, Tom Burke as Orson Welles and Amanda Seyfried as Marion Davies. As much as Seyfriend's performance impressed me, I do not believe she had deserved an Oscar or any other acting nomination for her performance. I do not believe her performance was that exceptional. There were a handful of performances that I really enjoyed. I thought Jamie McShane gave a very emotional performance as test director Shelly Metcalf, who shot the anti-Sinclair newsreels. Frankly, Lily Collins' performance as Mankiewicz's no-nonsense secretary Rita Alexander impressed me a lot more than Seyfriend's performance. And I thought she and the leading man had managed to create a superb screen chemistry. Although I believed that Seyfriend's acting nominations were undeserved, I cannot say the same for Gary Oldman's performance as Herman J. Mankiewicz. I thought he was superb as the screenwriting icon agonizing over his earlier apathy toward the governor's election, while struggling over his alcoholism and creation of the "CITIZEN KANE" screenplay. He truly deserved his acting nominations - especially in one scene in which the main character went into a drunken rant against the Hollywood machine and Hearst. "MANK" was definitely not the best movie of 2020. Perhaps it was one of the better ones. I still believe it could have been a better film if David and Jack Fincher had not attempted to connect the creation of "CITIZEN KANE" with California's 1934 governor election. But its re-creation of the latter proved to be one of the film's highlights. And the movie also benefited from excellent direction from David Fincher and excellent performances from a cast led by the always superb Gary Oldman. Honestly, I would have no qualms about buying a DVD copy of this film.

[travellvogue]

“Uhh...I think I burnt the cookies”- Dele

Halloweek Imagines- Day 6:

“C’mon then Mary Berry” he teases, walking into the kitchen to see you already getting the scales and ingredients out ready to make cookies. 

“What the hell are you wearing!?” you whine, rolling your eyes at the sight of him dressed in one of those silly aprons with the half naked men on the front. 

“Thought you’d enjoy this sight” he winks, shimmying his way towards you, already eyeing up the ingredients to see if there’s anything he could nibble on. You swat his hand away when he reaches to pinch some chocolate chips, already able to tell this is going to be an absolute disaster. 

You’d had the idea to bake Halloween themed cookies together this morning, the weather seemed to match the autumnal mood perfectly, rain droplets slowly trickling down the windows, racing one another to the bottom to drop to their destinies. The wind had picked up- the dancing trees and Dele’s complaints about his hair getting messed up on the dog walk confirmed that. 

“Right, are you gonna help me or not?” you groan, checking the time on the oven, well aware this is going to take double the time it usually would if you were doing it alone. Having Dele in the kitchen could only ever lead to several fire hazards, a complete mess, and a pair of eyes on the back of your head to stop him from eating the food before it’s even cooked yet. 

“What we making?” he beams, his little smile making it almost impossible to hold a grudge against him, even if the stupid apron made you want to launch a spatula at his head. He examines the ingredients once again as you explain that you thought it would be nice to make Halloween themed cookies for when the boys come over tonight. His plans to have his brother and friends round always meant you had to have a full fridge, you’d quickly learnt they’d eat anything you’d offer to them, so since it’s October it only seemed fitting to make the snacks have a spooky theme. 

“Oooo I’m gonna make ghosts and pumpkins” he claps, reaching for the special cookie cutters, endless shapes of pumpkins, black cats, ghosts, witches, broomsticks and zombies.

“Okay, can you preheat the oven for me then, my love” he looks at you as if you’d ask him to slice his own hand off. His furrowed eyebrows and lost gaze telling you he didn’t even know what you meant by preheat. With a sigh you ask “How can you be twenty-four and not know how to preheat the oven?” making him giggle and shrug his shoulders, too busy entertaining himself by making the ghost cookie cutter chase the witch around the kitchen counter. 

Despite your thoughts of it all going to shit, he does surprisingly well. Okay maybe half the flour got on the flour when you’d asked him to measure it out. The white handprints on your ass making it clear that he got distracted in the process. Additionally half the chocolate chips were consumed already, but when he giggles and blushes every time you ask him what he’s got in his mouth you let him off each and every time. 

You swear your heart could burst as you watch him flour the surface- of course he couldn’t help but claim that his flour spillage earlier was because he was preparing for this stage- his muscles flexing as he rolled out the dough, whistling away to himself whilst you do the washing up. 

“Y/N” he calls, “Tah dah!” you smile widely at his excitement, he’d certainly done a good job of making the mixture flat and even on the surface. Now for the bit he’d been waiting for, cutting out the shapes. He was quick to nab the ones he wanted, taking it in turns to push the cutters into the dough, Dele getting giddy every time he creates a perfectly neat pumpkin, or a ghost with one half it’s head hanging off. 

Overall, it all went far smoother than you could have ever predicted… Well, that’s what you thought. 

“Y/NNN” instantly you could tell by his tone that something wasn’t right, you’d helped yourself to a cup of tea and a few minutes of your favourite Netflix programme whilst the cookies were in the oven. Sighing and hauling yourself off the sofa, footsteps quickening when you start to smell something off. Musty and thick, lingering through the air towards the kitchen. 

“Uhh… I think I burnt the cookies” he gives you a toothy grin, holding a tray of singed cookies, almost black round the edges. Maybe you could just say it adds into the spooky theme?

“Really Del? I leave you in charge for two seconds and it all goes tits up!” you huff. But once again you’re own over but that little smile and blushing cheeks, when he’s that cute you could never stay mad for too long. 

[jlalafics]

Could you write some lesbian!Everlark please?🥺

Anon, I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you enjoy reading.

Summary: Peeta Mellark has an instant connection with a savior in scrubs. 

“You can shut off the lights now.”

Delly Cartwright, Peeta’s friend and business manager, looked to her and gave a sympathetic smile.

“You did well for a new business owner, Peeta,” she continued. Gathering some of the go-backs, Delly started to head over to the racks. “You opened a record shop. It wasn’t exactly going to be busy every day, but from a business standpoint, you did well for your first week.”

Peeta gathered her golden locks into a ponytail and took the broom next to her to sweep up.

“I guess you’re right,” Peeta replied.

She had fair sales for her opening week; it had always been her dream to open a shop of her own and her love for vinyls clinched her decision to open a record store. There was hope of expanding to a used bookstore, but it seemed that it would be awhile before that would happen.

“Don’t you have a husband to get home to?” Peeta asked her friend. “Thom must be annoyed that you’re spending all your time with me.”

“Thom wouldn’t have a full-service coffee bar if it weren’t for his wife’s business savvy,” Delly retorted. She pushed herself onto the wood counter. “He can sacrifice time so I can help out one of my best friends.”

“Really though.” Returning the broom to its place, Peeta met her friend’s light eyes. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Suddenly, Delly’s mouth formed into a smirk. “I mean it wouldn’t hurt if you had a partner to support and help you out. I met this great girl at Thom’s bar—”

“You know what—” Peeta lifted her petite friend off the counter easily, placing her by the front door. “—I think you should go home. You’re obviously exhausted.”

“You win this round, Mellark,” Delly declared with a chuckle. “We’ll see you for Sunday brunch at our place.”

Stepping out, Peeta watched her friend get into her car and drive off before walking back into the store.

Sighing, she let herself admit that she was lonely.

It had been two years since her last relationship and about six months since her last date. Her brothers were both in long-term relationships; Dean, her eldest brother, married to Olivia, his college girlfriend, with two kids and one on the way while Rye, the middle child, engaged to Johanna, one of Peeta’s closest friends and her former roommate.

While she, the youngest and only girl, was still single.

Peeta wasn’t looking for just anyone.

Whoever she was had to be more.

So, for the time being, she would just have to focus on getting the store up and running.

++++++

Locking up the store, Peeta buttoned her rust peacoat and headed towards her bus stop. Her place was fifteen minutes away—just a few blocks—but the fall season had caused the city to go dark once it hit six in the evening.

“Hey girl!”

The group of guys from the bar across the street called out. There were a few catcalls and she ignored it, speeding up her pace towards the bus stop at the end of the block. Her heart stuttered in nervousness as she heard the footfalls heading towards her.

Suddenly, one of the guys was standing in front of her. “Where you heading, sweetheart?”

Peeta didn’t reply, only taking in a description of the guy…mid-twenties, dark beard, medium height, sharp dark eyes wearing a grey hoodie, black tank, and dark jeans.

So, basically any random guy.

Dean was a cop and he had always taught her what to do if she was in a situation like this. However, it didn’t seem to be helping as she found herself surrounded by the rest of the group.

So, Peeta went for Rye’s method and fully rushed at the guy in front of her, trying to knee him in the groin.

He pushed her and Peeta was knocked down, the back of her head hitting the concrete.

There was the pain of impact…and then darkness.

++++++

“Miss Mellark…can you open your eyes?” Peeta blinked, her vision blurred and the white light causing her eyes to close again. “Take your time.”

She followed the kind voice, allowing herself to adjust before opening her eyes once more.

“There you go,” the voice said gently. “You gave us a scare when you came in.”

Her vision cleared and the warmest set of eyes greeted her. Almond-shaped and dove grey, the eyes were set in a heart-shaped face along with a pert nose and rose lips, her skin was a soft olive and her raven hair was tied back in a neat braid.

“Where am I?” she asked as the bed was slowly elevated.

“You are in the hospital,” the woman in the blue scrubs informed her. “My name is Katniss and I’m your nurse. You were mugged; the perp got your credit cards but left the rest of your wallet since there wasn’t any money. Can you tell me your name?”

“Peeta. Peeta Mellark.”

Katniss looked at her in confusion. “Your ID says Pieta Mellark.”

“When I was born, my parents tried to teach my brother Rye how to say me name properly, Pee-et-ta, but he couldn’t get it and kept pronouncing my name as Pee-ta. So, it kind of stuck.”

The nurse chuckled. “I like both your names.” Katniss looked over her chart and then to her. “We’re just making sure that you’re CT scan comes out clean and then we can release you. Do you have anyone that we can call? Your family?”

“I don’t want to worry my parents and they’re an hour away, and my brothers have families,” she explained. “Once I’m released, I’ll just head on home.”

“Your name fits you,” Katniss remarked. “Pieta means compassion. A lot of people would milk themselves getting injured, but not you. You’re more concerned about everyone else around you.”

“Give me a day or two and I’ll be at home, feeling sorry for myself,” Peeta replied. “Your name is a plant.”

The nurse grinned. “How did you know?”

“When we were all kids, my parents took us camping,” she explained. “And my Dad told me that if for some reason, I got lost in the woods then I just needed to find you to survive.”

Katniss blushed, her cheeks flooding with color, and Peeta found herself breathless in the prettiness of it all.

“I suppose that could also apply to non-camping situations,” Katniss responded. “Get some rest, Peeta, and I’ll check up on your results.”

++++++

“I’m really alright, Haymitch,” Peeta assured her business partner on the phone. “They kept me overnight for observation, but they didn’t see anything in the CT scan.”

“We should install cameras in the front,” the man insisted. “You could’ve been killed or assaulted!”

“Well, they checked if there was any trauma down there and everything seemed right as rain,” she assured him. “My vagina is perfectly intact.”

There was a cough and she turned to see Katniss standing before, a black bomber jacket over her scrubs and her hair down in long waves.

“I really didn’t need to hear that,” the man muttered. “Just call me when you get home, okay? Also, get an Uber and put it on our business credit card.”

“Ah…you should probably call about that,” Peeta replied. “Some of my credit cards are missing.”

“I’m right on it,” Haymitch responded. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll open the store tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Hanging up, Peeta stuffed her phone into her jean pocket before turning to the woman. “Getting off?”

Katniss looked to her in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Work. You off from your shift?”

The blush invaded her lovely face and she nodded quickly. “Oh yeah! Just heading out. How about you?”

“Yeah, just needed to check in with Haymitch, my partner,” Peeta explained.

“Oh.” Katniss’ expression dropped. “Why wouldn’t your boyfriend pick you up?”

Peeta snorted at the idea. “Haymitch is my business partner.” She looked to the woman beside her. “You heading home to your boyfriend?”

The woman shook her head. “I’ve got some leftover pasta and A Walk to Remember on Netflix, but that’s about it.”

“Would you want to join me for a cup of coffee?” Peeta found herself asking. “Thom, my best friend’s husband owns a coffee shop a few blocks down. It will be on me—or on Delly, my best friend—your coffee, I mean…”

Shit, Peeta was going about this all wrong. She didn’t even know if Katniss was into girls.

“Sure.”

Her head snapped up at Katniss’ response and Peeta smiled. “Okay.”

They headed onto the sidewalk in front of the hospital. It was a beautiful morning, chilled but brimming with potential to be a gorgeous day of clear skies and temperate weather.

“How long have you been a nurse?” Peeta asked as they headed down towards Thom’s coffee bar.

“About three years,” Katniss said. “Got this job right out of school. My mom was head nurse at the hospital before retiring a few years ago and I guess nepotism worked in my favor. I might actually be a really crappy nurse.”

“No, you definitely aren’t,” Peeta argued. “You have a natural empathy.”

“How so?”

“When I woke up, I was scared as hell,” she told the woman next to her. They stopped at the crosswalk and Peeta met Katniss’ gaze. “But, when I heard your voice, I knew that I would be okay. You made me feel safe.”

“That’s a lot to put on a girl,” Katniss said quietly. “But I’m glad that I could help.”

Their eyes met and it was like a magnetic force that Peeta found her hand tucking back a tendril of Katniss’ hair behind her ear. Her fingers lingered, feeling the softness of her dark waves and Katniss’ breath caught at the gesture.

Her hand covered Peeta’s and the sensation drew a sharp gasp from Peeta’s mouth.

It had been a long time since she had felt like this.

Stepping towards Katniss, she waited to see if the woman would retreat.

However, Katniss remained still, her mouth parted and her eyelids going half-lidded as Peeta close the space between.

The kiss was careful, her mouth slanting over Katniss’ gently. The feeling of her soft lips caused a groan to draw up from the pit of Peeta’s stomach and escape between their mouths.

It was scary but exhilarating all at once and Peeta never wanted to let her go.

However, Katniss hummed against her lips and reluctantly she pulled away.

“I probably wasn’t supposed to do that,” Peeta told her.

Katniss looked disappointed. “Oh, okay.”

“I mean not without taking you out on a date first.”

Katniss let out a relieved laugh. “Well, we just cut out the needless tension of the first kiss, didn’t we?”

“I guess so,” Peeta replied, taking her hand. “So…”

‘…would like to stay indefinitely?’

“Would you like to have coffee first and then dinner later?”

“And, between then?” Katniss asked, her thumb caressing the top of Peeta’s hand.

“Whatever we want, I have all day.”

I have forever for you.

“Okay.” Katniss beamed. “Let’s start with the coffee.”

 *I have more, but I wanted to keep this short and sweet. Let me know if you’re interested in more.

Pieta or pietà means compassion or pity in Italian. The word is most known for the Christian art depicting the Virgin Mary cradling the dead body of Jesus, mostly in sculpture.

Thanks for reading.