#and also my dear sweet fictional boyfriend . who I think about every night

[phobohobo]

Her e. I will shove all these cropped and no cropped sketches on here as well . I am , quite obssessed w him

[tyongxnct]

𝘗𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 - 𝘛𝘦𝘯

pairing: Ten x reader

summary: Your best friend finally became your boyfriend, but not longer after that, he got a once in a lifetime opportunity. Ten didn’t know If he should take the offer, you only started dating recently but you would never hold him back. Going to a dance school in New York City? You know how much Ten loves dancing and you also know that you could make this work. But after a couple months, your relationship was slowly falling apart. 

song: Pillow - Bebe Rexha

genre: bestfriends-to-lovers!au, long-distance!au, angst, smut, fluff

warnings: smut (that’s it i guess)

word count: 5.6k

A/N: I’ll probably take a song fic break after this one! I hope you enjoy this!! have fun reading :)

taglist: @aesthetichrj​, @bitchenderyy​, @bvbyxuxi​, @chitaphrrrr​

this is fiction!

© tyongxnct on all platforms

I just wanna kiss your face I just wanna feel your gaze I just wanna, I just wanna I just wanna be where you are I just wanna feel your touch I'm not asking for too much I just wanna, I just wanna I just wanna wake up where you are

You missed the way he kissed you. You missed the way he looked at you with so much adoration, you missed his touch on your skin.

You missed him, you missed Ten.

“I miss you.” You whispered, half asleep. You were facetiming Ten and it’s been almost two months since he left.

“I miss you more.” Ten smiled as he watched you slowly fall asleep.

“That’s not possible.”

Ten looked at you with those eyes again.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so pretty.”

“Shut up.” You said shyly.

“But it’s the truth.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.” And then you fell asleep. That was your routine. Facetime with Ten until you fell asleep.

Yes, you missed him and you would prefer to sleep next to him, but Ten was living his dream and his happiness was your happiness.

I used to think that love was just so easy But I couldn't be less right Yeah I finally found someone perfect, just for me Gotta fly thousands of miles, yeah

four months ago

“Why? Please tell me, why is it so hard to find the perfect guy? Is there not a single guy who’s interested in me? Am I going to die alone? Am I too ugly to be loved?” you cried out.

Ten sighed. He wanted to tell you so bad that you were the prettiest girl in the entire world and that he would love you forever, but he was just you’re best friend. You didn’t like him like that. Right?

“No you’re not, now shut up and focus on new girl.”

“Is it too much I’m asking for? I just want someone to love me. Like really love me. Am I not loveable?” you asked him.

You looked at the screen and watched Nick and Jess share their first (and absolutely amazing and passionate) kiss.

“I want what they have! Look at the way he kisses her! I want that, I need that!”

After watching a couple more episodes of new girl, Ten decided to go home. He wanted to kiss you so bad, he imagined it the whole time instead of focusing on new girl. “You can stay the night if you want to.” You told him.

“Nah, I should go home. Lucas texted me and asked me to take Bella out since he’s busy with whatever her name was.”

“Fine. Text me when you get home.” You hugged your best friend goodbye before he left and he hugged you back, a little longer than normal. You were standing in front of the door and just hugged each other.

A couple minutes later he left and you missed his touch.

With a sad sigh you closed the door and went to the kitchen. You wanted to drink something, but suddenly the doorbell rang.

“Did you forget-“

You opened the door and saw Ten standing there and before you could finish your question, Ten pressed his lips on yours to shut you up. You didn’t move at first, your head was spinning, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or just the fact that Ten, you’re best friend who you secretly loved more than anything else on this planet, kissed you with so much passion.

You pulled him closer as you put your arms around his neck. You were kissing him back and you accidently let out a moan when he put his tongue inside your mouth. You were never, ever kissed like this.

He softly pulled away to let you breathe again. Ten licked over his lips and stepped back.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. You’re absolutely beautiful and I couldn’t stop myself from kissing you. I-I’m sorry If I just destroyed our friendship, but I need you to know how I feel about you. I don’t want you to date random men, I don’t want you to think that you are not enough, because fuck, you are. You are perfect and I want to love you like you deserved to be loved. If you let me.”

You looked at him with teary eyes. Ten, your best friend who you were crushing on for years, your best friend who helped you find cute outfits for your dates, even though he hated every second of you looking cute for another guy, your best friend who just confessed to you.

“I love you.” You blurred out.

Ten’s eyes widened.

“Shit, did I say it too soon?” you looked down to your feet.

“Fuck I love you too.” And without hesitation he pulled you closer to kiss you again, “I love you so much.” He said in between kisses.

That’s how your relationship started. He stayed the night and told Lucas to take care of Bella himself. He wanted to spend some time with his best- no, his girlfriend.

You were dating for three months now, and you can’t remember a time you were happier. You loved to go on dates with Ten, but you also loved the nights you had just dance battles at home. Ten always won, he was a dancer after all. Dancing was his passion, he loved it and he was the greatest dancer you’ve ever seen and when he told you about the school he wanted to apply to, you encouraged him to do it. One day, he got an email, but he was too scared to read it so he rushed over to your apartment.

“It’s going to be fine.” You assured him.

“C-Can you read it? Please?”

You smiled softly, “Sure.”

You opened the email and read it out loud, “Dear Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, I would like to congratulate you for winning a scholarship in our school-“

“Oh my god I’m in?” he couldn’t believe it.

“You are in! I knew you would make it!” you hugged him tightly and he hugged you back even tighter after he realized that he had to leave you.

“I can’t believe this.” He mumbled into your neck.

“I can! You deserve this so much, I’m so proud of you Ten.” You pressed a kiss on his shoulder before you pulled back to look him in the eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too. So much.” He said sadly.

“What’s wrong. Why are you not smiling and dancing?” you smiled softly.

“I-It’s in New York. I don’t want to leave you, maybe I should refuse-” He said unsure but you interrupted him.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Ten, Baby, I love you and I promise you that everything is going to be fine. You worked so hard, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, I’ll love you no matter where you are. We can make this work.”

You tried to stop yourself from crying so bad, you bit your lip almost too painfully.

“You are right. We’ll make this work. Thank you for believing in me.” He kissed every inch of your face, “You are the best girlfriend in this entire world. I love you so much.”

It took you so long to finally be with Ten and now you had a long-distance relationship. But your love was so strong, you could make this work. You promised each other to make this work.

I'll be alright, just one more night I'll be just fine, holdin' my pillow Pretending it's you though I'll be alright, just one more night I'll be just fine, holdin' my pillow Pretending it's you though

Babe 03:23: Sorry baby, we practiced a little longer than usual. You’re probably sleeping right now, sweet dreams. I love you and I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise.

You were actually still awake, you couldn’t fall asleep. You were worried and you missed him so much that you had to wait for an answer.

You threw the pillow you were hugging against the wall and sat up. You took your phone in your hand and smiled brightly as you called him on facetime. It’s been two minutes since he called, why did it take him so long to answer? You called him again and when he didn’t answer you texted him a simple good night and I love you.

You grabbed your pillow again and hugged it tightly. You tried to stop yourself from crying, but it was so hard. It’s been 7 months since Ten left, and the first couple months of your long-distance relationship was easy, you talked every day and texted often too, you would facetime before you would go to sleep and he would send you random pictures and videos of New York and his dance school so you would know about his lifestyle there.

But now he’s been pretty busy and you would talk maybe three times a week if he had time. He would answer your texts when you were asleep or not at all. Sometimes you were worried that he was overworking himself, but he assured you that everything was chill and easy. So why was he acting so distant?

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day, you told yourself as you tried to fall asleep. You would try to call him tomorrow and tell him that you were sad and that you missed him. Communication is the key after all, but for now, you’d cry into your pillow and imagine it was Ten you were hugging.

I need a minute to breathe you in Just a second to taste your skin I just gotta, I just gotta Feel you here right next to me Can we please just go back in time Those lazy Sundays, you and I 'Cause every hour and every day Is more painful when you're away

It was the last night before Ten would leave for New York. You spend the last month everyday together, it was almost like he moved in with you, but you pushed back that thought to stop your heart from hurting.

“Is it tasty?” you asked him.

You had ordered some Pizza and he asked you if you wanted a piece. You refused at first but now you wanted some and he laughed at your cute acting and gave you his last two pieces. “No it’s too much.” You giggled. “Just eat it, we both know that you could finish another box of Pizza baby.”

“Well, that’s true.”

He put his head on your lap while you were eating the last piece of Pizza. “You look so hot from here eating that Pizza. Tomato sauce on your lips, wow, baby, I get hard just looking at you from here.” He joked and you slapped him softly.

“Don’t make fun of me or you can sleep on the floor.”

Ten pouted, “You wouldn’t do that.”

You spent the next hours just laying lazily on your couch and cuddling. You would miss nights like these the most, just being with him and talking about everything that came to your minds. You loved it and you loved him.

You didn’t notice him crawl between your legs as you laid against the armrest. “What do you think? Should we take this off?” he pulled on your shirt.

“Maybe we should.” You smirked, “And maybe you should take your shirt off too.”

And he did. He took off his shirt first before he slowly, teasingly took off yours. You were just wearing a shirt and panties and now you were almost completely naked under him. “You’re so hot.” You heard him say before he started kissing your boobs. His hand softly caressed your pussy over your panties.

Your nipples hardened instantly, your head fell back and you just enjoyed his tongue on your breasts. “It feels so good.” You moaned.

After giving enough attention to your other nipple, Ten stood up and carried you to your bedroom. “It’s going to be a long night.” He smirked at you.

After softly placing you on the bed, Ten pulled down your panties and kissed your inner thighs. He kissed his was to your already wet pussy and kissed it softly. You felt his tongue against your clit and you closed your eyes. He licked you so good and sucked on your clit, you were so close.

“Fuck, baby, It feels so fucking good.”

Ten fastened his pace and a couple seconds later you reached your first orgasm.

“Number one, more to go.” He said, his chin glistening with your arousal and turning you on.

You felt his fingers on your entrance and a second later he thrusted his fingers inside of you. His lips were on your nipples again and you gripped the sheets, his fingers slid in easily, you were so wet. “Fuck.” You could feel your second orgasm coming. “Tell me baby, what do you want?”

“I want to cum again- please Ten make me cum again.” You cried out.

You felt him go faster and when he hit that one spot, you reached your second orgasm. Ten put his fingers against your lips, “Suck.” He demanded and you sucked his fingers clean. “Good girl.”

“I want to suck you off- please Ten let me suck you off.” You begged him.

“Okay baby, show me how good you can take me inside of your mouth.” He pulled down his sweatpants and his boxers briefs and sat down on the edge of your bed. You got off the bed and got on your knees right in front of his hard cock.

You spat on your hand and wrapped your fingers around his shaft and started pumping slowly, “Don’t tease baby, or you’ll regret it.” He warned you.

You fastened your pace and started licking his tip. You licked on the slit, and slowly put his cock inside of your mouth. It’s not your first time sucking his cock, you knew what you had to do to make him feel good.

“Yeah just like that, feels so good baby.” He caressed your hair softly as you took him all the way down. His cock hit the back of your throat but you didn’t mind, you liked it actually and Ten loved it. “Fuck yes yes, just like that, love it so much.” He moaned out, you felt him twitch inside of your mouth.

You sucked his cock and softly played with his balls, you looked up and saw that he closed his eyes and bit his lip, eyebrows furrowed and face sweaty. You let out a moan after seeing him like that and the vibrations of your voice felt so good, he came. “Fuck, yes baby take it all and swallow.”

You did as he said, “Open up and show me.”

You opened your mouth and sticked your tongue out. “Good girl. Now baby, I want you to fucking ride me, okay baby?”

You nodded eagerly.

You sat down on his cock slowly and started riding him. It felt so good, you grabbed his shoulders to go faster. “T-Ten, I love your cock so much.” You cried out. Ten cupped your boobs and flicked your nipples, and you loved it when he played with your nipples. Ten wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you down so he could suck on your nipples. While he did that, he fucked up into you, meeting your hips. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other was like music to your ears.

“So fucking tight, didn’t I fuck this pussy enough?” you clenched at his words.

You felt your legs arching and you felt like you were collapse on top of him, “T-Ten I can’t p-please take over.” And he did.

Within a second he turned your around and took you from behind. You were on all fours as he stared ramming his cock inside of you. His hand found your clit and he started rubbing and circling it with his fingers. “Gonna cum baby? Hm? Cum all over my cock?”

“Y-Yes, fuck, feel so good. I’m so fucking close.”

You clenched once again and encouraged Ten to go even faster and harder with his thrusts. “I’m gonna fill you up, you’re going to take all of my cum, okay baby?”

“Yes please, cum in me.”

And with the next thrust, you came. You moaned as you clenched and rode out your third orgasm, you were so sensitive but it still felt good. You clenched around him once again and Ten came and painted your walls white.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He moaned as he slowed down and pulled his cock out of you. He watched his cum mixed with yours drip out of you. “So fucking hot.” He got hard again.

That night, you had so many orgasms. His hands, his mouth and his cock bought you to heaven. He fucked you hard and fast but also slow and full of passion.

I used to think that love was just so easy But I couldn't be less right, yeah

“I’ll miss you so much.” You told him that night before he left.

“I’ll miss you too, but we’ll make this work. I trust in us. We’ll talk every day and text and I’ll come visit you and you’ll come visit me too.” Ten said convinced that long-distance was going to work.

“I love you so much, never forget that okay.”

It could work. You could make this work. You were absolutely sure that you and Ten could make a long-distance relationship work. He was your best friend before you started dating, he would never hurt you and you would never hurt him and you trust him with your life.

I'll be alright, just one more night I'll be just fine, holdin' my pillow Pretending it's you though I'll be alright, just one more night I'll be just fine, holdin' my pillow Pretending it's you though

It’s been almost two weeks since you last facetimed Ten. Yeah, you texted once in a while but it’s been so long since you talked and just be there for each other. You talked to him a month ago about feeling lonely and missing him and he promised you to make more time for you, but the last two weeks you barely talked.

You didn’t want to be clingy and suffocate him, so you waited for him to text you first. But every passing minute broke your heart more and more. You knew that he found new friends, but you would never doubt his faithfulness.

You closed your eyes and hugged your pillow tightly. Every night, you pretended that it was Ten you were hugging and not just your pillow. You missed his touch so much, you missed to kiss him and just hug him. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had to hear his voice. It was past midnight in New York but you didn’t care a t that moment.

“Yes?” you heard him yell. At least he answered.

“Ten? Can you hear me?” The other line was so loud, you raised your voice a little.

“What is it Y/n?! I’m busy!” you could hear loud music and people laughing around. “Busy? What are you doing?” it didn’t sound like he was busy.

“I’m out with some friends, look, I told you I’ll call you. Can’t you let me breathe for one day?” he said. Ten sounded annoyed and you could imagine how he rolled his eyes.

“It’s been two weeks since you said you’ll call! I let you breathe, but I was so worried, I just wanted to hear you voice-“

“You heard my voice, can I hang up now?”

You gasped, he sounded so cold, so annoyed and even distracted and before he could, you hung up.

You fell asleep crying. Once again.

Ten never apologized for that night and you never bought it up. It’s like talking to a wall. It took him a couple days to call you and he acted like that night never happened, like he never talked like he had enough of you.

The worst thing was yet to come.

Your one-year anniversary.

You reminded him one day before, that you would facetime, eat something together, watch a movie and just spend time together.

You waited and waited, but he never called.

You called him four times, texted him ten times, but he never answered and when you checked his Instagram story, you weren’t even surprised.

Ten was partying again. Ten ditched you to party on your one-year anniversary.

You realized that you were holding onto something that was long gone. It was over. It should be over. You were done with him, you were heartbroken and you regretted every decision you made. Maybe you should’ve stayed friends, maybe you would be happier and not suffering.  

And I can't lie, babe, I'm losing my patience Too much waiting for you Every time that I wake up My hands go where I'm waiting for you I know I say that I'm fine But I'm losing my mind Just need to hold you Don't take your time Oh, baby

The next day, you had fifteen missed calls from Ten, but you decided to ignore him for a while and sort your thoughts. He texted you every day, apologizing and asking for forgiveness. Ten told you about his day even though you never texted back. You hated to be like this, but you needed space. You called him one week later and he answered immediately.

“H-Hi.” Ten whispered nervously.

“Hey.” You mumbled.

“How… how have you been?” Ten wanted to punch himself. How could he ask you that? He knew that you were feeling sad.

“Okay I guess.” You tried to hold back you tears.

“Look about-“

“I can’t do this anymore.” You just said it. You’ve been thinking about it for the past months actually, but you never thought you would get to this point. You never thought you would want to break up.

“W-What? N-no, no no no please Y/n. Look I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry that I missed our anniversary, but please don’t do this-“

“It’s not just the anniversary! Everything is too much for me. You ignore me and you yell at me for caring and being worried a-and you ditched me so many times and o-our anniversary- you, fuck, you were out having fun while I was waiting for you! You tell me that you’re going to call, but you never do and when I call you because I miss you, you yell at me and call me annoying!”

You didn’t want to cry, but it was so hard not to.

“I-I’m sorry. I am really so fucking sorry. Y-You didn’t deserve all that, I fucked up. I promised to be there for you b-but-“ he stopped. You could hear him sniff and try to hold back his tears. Ten rarely cried, like, you saw him cry maybe one time.

“But?”

“But I was so overwhelmed with this city and with this school and dancing. I can’t lose you. You’re my everything. I’ll change! I’ll be a better boyfriend, but please, don’t leave me.” He cried out.

“I-It’s not that easy. Y-You broke my heart. I trusted in us, b-but maybe we aren’t meant to be.”

“No, no. No, don’t say that- you know that’s not true, you know that I love you more than anything. You are the most important person in my life.”

“Seems like I’m not as important as you think I am. I don’t want to be the reason you stop focusing on what’s important and that’s your dance school. That’s New York and m-my feelings are important too. I… I can’t remember the last time I was genuinely happy. I’m sorry, Ten. I’m really sorry.”

And before he could start talking again, you hung up. You broke out in tears, you clutched your heart and tried to keep it from exploding, but you felt the little piece stab your insides. Ten wasn’t doing any better. He cried and cried and regretted all of his choices, he regretted leaving you and moving to New York. He regretted ignoring you, he regretted leaving you on read. He regretted everything. Oh, how he wished he could turn back time and be a better boyfriend. A boyfriend you deserve, someone who makes you feel loved and not someone who hurts you.  

I'll be alright, just one more night I'll be just fine, holdin' my pillow Pretending it's you though I'll be alright, just one more night I'll be just fine, holdin' my pillow Pretending it's you though

It’s been a couple days since you talked to Ten. You had blocked him everywhere and you tried to ignore the pain in your heart. It was harder to break up and block him, but it was the only way to stop your suffering. You couldn’t let him treat you like that forever.

You couldn’t focus on anything. It was almost like he followed you everywhere. One day your mother send you pictures of prom and Ten was your date. You went as friends but you just realized that he looked at you with so much love in his eyes. His arm was around your waist and you looked at each other and smiled brightly. Then, you wanted to watch some Netflix and Netflix recommended you Step up. A movie about dancing. How ironic. Even the number Ten made you so sad and emotional.

Almost a week later, you got ready for bed. You were brushing your teeth when you heard the doorbell. Who could it be at this hour? You tiptoed and looked through the spy. Your jaw dropped when you saw his face.

“I can hear you breathing. Please open the door, I want to see your face. I missed you so much.”

You slowly opened the door and looked at him with teary eyes, he was about to step closer but he stood still, his body froze and his heart hurt. You weren’t doing any better. It’s been a year since you saw his pretty face and now he was standing right in front of you. You wanted to hug him, kiss him, just pull him closer and never let go again, but you were also frozen.

“I-I can’t be without you. Tell me to stay and I will.” He said and he looked absolutely serious.

You pulled him closer and hugged him as tightly as you could. Ten wrapped his arms around you pressed kisses on your hair. “I’ll do it, I’ll leave New York and come back to you. I just need you. I love you so much, Y/n.”

You sobbed and cried and it was so hard to breathe but you couldn’t stop yourself from crying harder. “I love you too, but I don’t want you to do t-that. I don’t want you to stop living your dream. I love you so much, but I won’t let you do that.”

“B-But I don’t want to lose you.” Ten whispered and caressed your hair softly.  “Please forgive me, please. I was dumb, so fucking dumb. I didn’t realize how I treated you. I didn’t see that you were hurting and I promise you I’ll be better, I can’t lose you ever again. Please give me a second chance to make this right.”

You nodded and it felt so unreal to hold him in your arms. You waited for this moment for so long and he was finally in your arms. Seeing him helped you realize that you couldn’t be without him, that you needed your best friend, the love of your life.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you.”

You were cuddling under the blankets as Ten softly played with your hair, your head was on his chest. He also left kisses on your forehead, on your nose, on your lips, on every inch of your face and hands. Your hands were locked and he would never let go again.

“How did you even come? Don’t you have any classes to attend?” you asked him as you pecked his lips.

“I’ll just skip a few days, I won’t miss anything. Don’t worry about that.” He smiled softly.

Ten started drawing circles on your soft skin and you did the same on his chest. You looked up at him and pressed your lips on his, not just a simple peck. A kiss with so much longing and passion. A kiss to show him how much you missed him.

His hand slowly travelled to your waist and then to your ass. He squeezed it softly and pulled you on top of him, not breaking the kiss.

You moved your hips and his hands caressed the skin under your shirt. You broke the kiss for a second to get rid of your shirt. You weren’t wearing anything under your shirt and Ten cupped your breast with one hand and cupped your cheek with the other to kiss you again. He pinched your nipple and you let out a moan.

You could feel him slowly hardening and your hand found his belt. You unbuttoned his jeans and grabbed his shirt to take it off. You placed wet kisses on his chest and next thing you knew, you were under him.

Ten sucked on your boobs and pinched your nipples while he was busy pulling down your sweatpants and underwear. You were completely naked under him now and he kissed his way to your pussy. He parted your legs with his hands and you wanted to close them again, you were shy but then you remembered that this was Ten and you parted your legs even wider.

Ten softly kissed your pussy and then he ate you out like a starving man. He sucked on your clit and when he inserted two fingers inside of your wet cunt, you lost it. You tried to hide your moans but you couldn’t, your grip around the sheets tightened and you could see the stars, you can’t even remember the last time you had an orgasm, that’s why you came embarrassingly fast. You couldn’t hold back and came all over his fingers. “I’m cuming, fuck, feels so good.”

Ten didn’t stop playing with your clit, even after you came and you were so sensitive, you almost came again but he stopped and crawled back up to kiss you. “I love you.” He mumbled before he pulled his boxers down.

“I love you- so much.”

He was rock hard already and ready to be inside of you. He didn’t need you to suck him off, he just needed to be inside of you.

“I missed fucking you, I missed your tight little cunt so much.” And before you could answer that you missed him fucking you too, he rammed his cock inside of you. You moaned so loud, you hoped the neighbors wouldn’t hear you, but you wouldn’t hold back- you were feeling way too good to shut up.

“Fuck me, fuck me please.”

And he did.

Ten fucked you hard and fast, he gripped your hips tightly and fucked you deep, hitting the right spot and making you lose your mind. You clenched around him and he could feel himself getting closer. He looked you deep in the eyes and your boobs bounced up every time he moved his hips. He loved how fucked out you looked, so pretty and innocent.

“L-Let me ride you, please-“ you moaned out and who was he to refuse? He loved seeing you on top him.

You were riding him now, he gripped your hands again to thrust up. He couldn’t take away his eyes from your boobs or your face. You threw your head back, you felt your second orgasm nearing and feeling his hands on your boob, pinching your nipples turned you even more on.

“I’m gonna cum, gonna cum-“ and you came and Ten couldn’t hold back and he shot his cum inside of you. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

You moved your hips to ride out your orgasms and you collapsed on top of him. Ten pulled his cock out of your cunt and then he got up to bring a warm towel to clean you up. After he was done cleaning you up, he got into bed and pulled you up to his chest. You were naked under the covers but you didn’t mind, his body was warm and cozy.

“I love you.” He placed a kiss on your temple.

“I love you too.” And you fell asleep in the arms of the love of your life.

Your relationship was even stronger than before. After Ten left for New York again, you were scared that it wouldn’t work out, but it did. He was always there for you and you were always there for him. You visited him on Valentine’s day and he visited you on your birthday. Your love grew and before you could realize that you’ve been dating for three years, you were packing your stuff to move out of your apartment.

Yes, you were moving to New York, to your boyfriend and you’ve been thinking about this for months now and it was the best decision you’ve ever made. You’re living with your best friend, who became your boyfriend, in New York City.

Baby (14:24): SPOTTED! The love of my life in Starbucks, with an iced coffee in her hand. Who is she waiting for? Perhaps her boyfriend? Stay tuned. XOXO gossip girl.

You laughed out loud in Starbucks as you read the text Ten just sent you. You laughed a little too loud, a couple looked at you and you apologized for laughing so loud.

Ten entered Starbucks and kissed you on the lips. “Babe, gossip girl? Really?” you giggled and wrapped your arms around him. “You know you love me.”

And that was the truth. “You’re right.”

[kamyru]

Toma Kiriya appreciation post

I know that Toma is one of the most liked Voltage characters. When he appeared, the readers unanimously decided that he raised the expectations for future love interests with his healthy view on life and funny banters. I have to be honest. From the start, he wasn't my favorite. He still isn't. Out of all the Irresistible Mistakes characters, he is my 3rd favorite, after Toshiaki Kijima and Jun Araki. While Toshiaki is just my type, and I always like the kind, silent, and serious guys, Jun is there only because I have a part in me who falls for red flags. However, he went through impressive character development.

Though, because of personal matters, I understood today how fantastic Toma is. I won't talk about how healthy is Toma's relationship with MC. Everyone already knows it. I want to talk about how real he is.

I once had a post with the Voltage characters that I am most alike. I think I deleted it because it wasn't well written. Also, there was one big problem. It didn't include Toma. And long story short, out of all Voltage Inc characters, he is the most like me.

To start from the beginning, we all know his story. Toma had a girlfriend in college that cheated on him with his best friend. He stopped believing in love, became cynical, and involved himself only in one-night stands. I have to say something. I am a med student, as some of you already know. (The post where I mention this is one of my most popular.) I am against one-night stands because they are not safe. Though, every person can do what they want with their lives. Except for the part about the one-night stands, I am the carbon copy of Toma.

In some of my old headcanons and scenarios, I mentioned that I have (had) a boyfriend. And as you may guess, he hooked up with my best friend on New Year's Night while I was abroad, concentrating on my studies.

Here starts the relatable and appreciation part. I have no idea how naive I was or how I didn't see it sooner, yet, my reaction was the same as Toma's. That makes him so important and dear to me now. We are both hard-working kids who were considered geniuses by others, with mothers that are teachers, sweet-teeth, creative minds at STEM universities, and an unlimited supply of sarcasm.

So, Voltage guessed how a person like this would react in the case of cheating. Unfortunately, just like Toma, I stopped believing in happy relationships. Don't get me wrong. I know that they exist. Though, I don't think that this is something that will happen to me.

After this entire story, I started to work harder, stopped craving love and attention, changed my standards, closed my heart, started reading smut (like Toma began to hook up), and became somehow cynical. It's not that I crave revenge or anything. I just stopped wanting relationships and love. I don't cry or pity myself. I don't feel anything when I think about love.

And I have to say that Voltage did a fantastic job. I know that all people are unique and live in different circumstances. I have no idea who was the mastermind behind Toma's character, but they did an amazing job at depicting his trauma.

I know that Toma has a lot of other qualities that make him a good love interest and healthy character. But this is the part of his character that I find the most relatable and real. I also understand that people acted differently being in the same circumstances. However, there's me for whom Toma hit the bull-eye.

I forgot to mention in my Takado's appreciation post, but I think that Takado would make a fantastic boyfriend in real-life. Though, I'm not sure I can say the same thing about Toma. I truly want to believe that he would have a healthy and happy relationship in real life. But knowing me at the moment, I have my doubts. Maybe because we are in different stages of our lives, but I don't think that I am a good love interest at the moment. At the same time, in the fictional world, I would marry Toma without any hesitation. He is fantastic, and he has his part of reality. So, give Toma the love he deserves as one of the best Voltage Inc characters.

P.S. The reason why I'm writing this today is that today's my ex-best friend's birthday.

[too-kinky-to-live]

taste

happy vo.re day everyone!!! here’s my cringe fic to commemorate :-) 

(no ao3 link this time im too self conscious) 

this idea came about while talking to the lovely @chili-kinks and they made this in conjunction with my fic so please check them out!!

anyway this fic features pre.game oum.asai and soft, same size vo.re, you have been warned. also bad words

“IIIIT’S PUNISHMENT TIME!!!”

The screen cut to a large Monokuma towering over the latest blackened, a small blonde girl with a long pigtail. The demonic bear picked up the girl and began to lick all over as she struggled in his grasp. Slowly lifting her above his head, Monokuma bent his head back and opened the gates of hell: his half-fanged mouth, with drool beginning to form around it. The girl was screaming and flailing about as she was lowered further down to her demise. Monokuma’s fist released her without effort, the blackened dropping right into his gaping maw. It slammed shut with a metal clang, and the bear gave a loud, deafening gulp. 

Saihara’s eyes were glued to the T.V., in a more intense manner than usual. What a cruel way to go, even for Danganronpa standards. He had many ideas about his own execution someday, but this… this was definitely one to consider. He could only imagine how she felt wriggling around in his large belly, put to an eternal sleep with a comforting blanket of warmth. His shaky hands moved to text his boyfriend Ouma, who sadly couldn’t make it to their weekly Danganronpa viewing because of heaps of school projects. He knew Ouma was more into the mystery aspect of the show than the gruesome killings, but he simply couldn’t resist. 

Saihara: omgomgomg did you see the latest episode???

Ouma: I did. I had it on in the background so I could work. 

Saihara: what did you think of the execution? :D

Ouma: It was… something. Unexpected, definitely. 

It was difficult for the taller boy to contain his fantasizing, to say the least. 

Saihara: i love the way she was screaming for dear life,,, it was soooo satisfying in the end! god i wish i were monokuma… tasting a victim would be so worth ittt

Ouma: Uh, Saihara?

Saihara: yea?

Ouma: I think you should go to bed. You have school tomorrow. And… you’re scaring me a little. 

Saihara: sorry kichi… but fiiiine ill see you tomorrow.

The last thing he wanted was to make Ouma uncomfortable. And he was a man of his word, he’d take his advice and get to bed. However, there was one thing he wanted to try first. Rummaging around in his snack drawer, he found a small bag of Monokuma-themed gummy bears. He couldn’t stop thinking about having something whole run down his throat… and what better way to do it than try on a small candy? He frantically opened the bag and plucked out a red gummy. Dangling it above his drooling maw, he licked his lips. 

“My first victim… down the hatch!” 

He shoved the gummy in his mouth and had to stop himself from chewing. Positioning it for swallowing, he let it slide down his throat with a hard gulp. Saihara traced a hand over his chest to feel it going down to his stomach, shivering slightly. What an amazing feeling… he couldn’t chew these ever again! He happily shoved more in his mouth and gulped them down, pretending they were meek little prey against his predatory might. 

Saihara tossed the bag aside and rubbed his belly blissfully. One day, maybe he could have a person inside him. Despite his affinity for Danganronpa, he could never bring himself to kill someone. He was going to rely on Team Danganronpa’s directors to change that for him. No, he merely wanted someone in his belly for a while, just to feel what it’s like. 

Surely a normal human like him couldn’t achieve that, right? 

Only one way to find out. 

Ouma looked on nervously as Saihara effortlessly swallowed half a sandwich whole. His previous victims included sushi, apple slices, candy, cookies, and brownies. It was almost inhuman how the taller boy could open his mouth to fit a seemingly endless array of food. 

"Saihara, you're gonna make yourself sick."

Saihara simply chuckled. "I'll be fine, 'Kichi." 

The smaller boy knew Saihara had a somewhat unhealthy obsession with Danganronpa, but he never would have imagined it would affect him this much. Despite how unnatural it was, Ouma couldn't help his morbid curiosity. He couldn't deny how interesting the latest execution was (no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise), and a small part of him absolutely loved watching Saihara scarf down food and seeing it travel down his throat. 

Nope, he definitely didn't enjoy this. 

Every so often, the taller boy would lift his food above him and slowly ease it into his mouth, as if to simulate eating a person. Ouma was immensely thankful the other patrons of the cafe were ignoring them. Maybe this sudden fascination would fade once the next Danganronpa episode came out; but with Saihara, anything was possible. 

Saihara: hey could you come over today? i wanna try something. 

Two weeks later, Ouma received a rather unceremonious text from Saihara one night. 

Ouma: Sure. What is it you want to try? 

Saihara: i don't think i can say over text

Ouma furrowed his brow, his mind racing to the absolute worst possible scenarios. Did something happen between him and his uncle again? 

Ouma: ...why not? 

Saihara: i just can't i'm sorry 

Saihara: pls come over asap 

Ouma: Alright.

It was unsettling how vague his friend was being, and that made him all the more worried. He hurriedly packed his things and ran to Saihara's house. 

The two sat across from each other on the floor in Saihara’s room, neither saying a word. The taller boy had his eyes cast down, deep in thought with Ouma left to wonder just what the hell happened to him. The air was unnerving, and Ouma couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you okay, Saihara?”

The boy in question took a second to look up at him, meeting his eyes with an emotionless face Ouma had not seen in him before. 

“Do you remember the episode where the girl got eaten alive?”

Oh.

“I… I want to try it out. I’ve been practicing so I could make it happen.”

Oh.

Saihara couldn’t possibly think this would work, right? Humans aren’t capable of eating each other without… killing the other. Ouma shuddered. 

“Saihara,” he spoke slowly. “Do you really think you can do this? I mean, Danganronpa is just fiction after all… and one of us wouldn’t s-survive,” his voice began to quiver. 

The taller boy sat up slightly and looked at Ouma with soft eyes. “I won’t let that happen. I’ve been looking stuff up. I’ve been training myself. And… you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” 

Part of Ouma didn’t want to. That part was constantly pushing the fact that this could end up very bad. However, another part slowly began to rise up - the feeling of being the closest he can to the one he has a crush on. And of course, there was that naughty side of him thrilled at the idea. 

“...I’ll do it.”

Saihara’s eyes lit up. “Really?!”

“I trust you. And, well, I’m kinda curious too.” 

Hearing Ouma have mutual feelings to this weird activity made Saihara’s heart race. The smaller boy began to remove his clothing, too embarrassed to make eye contact with his crush. Saihara finally noticed how bony Ouma was. He’d make sure to get him a proper meal later. Ouma removed everything but his boxers, feeling somewhat self-conscious and looking away with a blush. 

“Could you uh, close your eyes while I do this? I don’t think I could make eye contact with you.”

“S-Sure.”

Ouma complied and Saihara inched his way towards him, shaking slightly. Ouma trusted him. He wasn’t about to let that be for nothing. Raising himself above Ouma’s head, Saihara opened his maw until it became unhinged. He gently bit down on the smaller boy’s head of hair. The flavor was a sweet grape with a bit of lavender, which made Saihara drool slightly. He couldn’t help but smile in bliss as he took more of the boy in. He felt Ouma flinch a bit, so he brought his hands to Ouma’s arms and rubbed for reassurance. The smaller boy calmed down and Saihara reached his shoulders. 

Perhaps it was Ouma’s smaller stature, but this was going a lot easier than Saihara had anticipated. He wanted to lick at him to get more of his sweet flavor, but he didn’t want to gross him out. He also wished he could ask how Ouma was holding up, but, well… he was a bit preoccupied. As Saihara reached the smaller boy’s torso, he realized the boy had entered his stomach. He was already feeling full, but there was no going back now. He took a hand off of Ouma to rub his belly, his hand gliding over the dent created in it. Reaching Ouma’s boxers wasn’t nearly as thrilling of a milestone, since his taste was interrupted by bland fabric. 

He picked up the pace and shoved the covered part of Ouma’s body down his gullet. He mentally apologized for being so rough. Resuming the wonderful taste of Ouma, he slid down his spindly legs. All that remained was below the knees, and those were consumed just as quickly. Saihara could feel Ouma squirming a bit to get comfortable, and that’s when the true euphoria started. 

It felt fucking amazing. 

It was everything he hoped it would be. He leaned back and let an arm support him from behind, using the other to support the massive weight added to him. His stomach stretched past his knees with many bumps protruding from it. Red-faced, Saihara panted heavily with his tongue lavishly hanging out. God, this was so worth it. He rubbed around to feel for Ouma, who was surprisingly calm during the whole ordeal. 

He opened his mouth to ask Ouma how he was doing, but a massive belch burst from his lips instead. The smaller boy, meanwhile, was fumbling around trying to make out his surroundings in the dark. His body was drenched in saliva; but strangely, no stomach acid was present. The world quaked around him as Saihara let out a loud burp, and Ouma found it hard to be grossed out given his current circumstances. 

“Are you *urp* okay, ‘Kichi?” 

Saihara’s hand found Ouma’s head between the fleshy wall separating them, and Ouma couldn’t help but lean into the touch. He never saw himself in the stomach of his crush, yet here he was. 

“I’m okay. It feels… really nice,” he blushed, accentuated with a small rub to the stomach walls. He was amazed at how elastic Saihara’s stomach was, he hoped he wasn’t putting too much strain on it. 

“Haah… I’m great, ‘Kichi! The best I’ve ever felt, actually! You tasted incredible,” he grinned, licking his lips. 

Suddenly, the buttons on his dress shirt holding on for dear life relented and popped right off, exposing his large belly. That was… pretty hot, Saihara realized. Ouma started to rub more of the walls surrounding him, causing Saihara to moan rather loudly. He was a complete mess around his crush, but it was just too difficult to contain his bliss. 

“Saihara, why aren’t there any stomach acids yet?” 

The taller boy gave his belly a gentle pat. “I found recipes online for drinks that *hic* could subdue stomach acids for a bit. It looks *hic* like they worked pretty *hic* well, huh?” 

Ouma smiled and let himself lean back into the warm stomach walls. 

“You’ll let me out when I’m ready, right?” he asked tiredly. 

“Of course,” Saihara whispered, rubbing Ouma’s head.

“Thank you, Saihara.”

[regrettablewritings]

Modern!Jaskier x Reader Ship Meme

Prompts taken from this ship meme

Which one texts like a straight white boy?: Of course it would have to be our resident white boy. It isn’t even that he necessarily means to, there’s just an embarrassing amount of overlap between the messages a straight white boy tends to text, and those of your rising star boyfriend. You’d look more into it if it weren’t for the fact that you know there’s no actual malice in it, and because it’s just so sad that it’s funny. If one were to go into the photos saved on your phone, they would’ve surely come upon an entire album of screenshots you’d taken over the years, from when Jaskier would be on tour without you to when he’d just be resting at home while you were out at work. Things like: “Wat r u up to 2nit, cutie? ;)” “I’m probably just gonna play whatever’s on my Watch Later backlog on youtube until I conk out.” “Wild!!! anyway wat would u do if i was there rn~?” Or “Do u miss me? :(” “Of course I do ya dingus!” “Ok....Can we do a quickie over videochat?” “Jas i’m at the store.” “The point still stands.” Or “Watcha thinkin bout? ;)” “About how The Great Gatsby becoming public domain means there’s nothing stopping anyone from making a drag show interpretation called The Gay Dragsby.” “Aaww w/o me? ;)” “...” “WAIT NO I THOUGT YOU’D SAY YOU WERE THINKING ABOUT ME SHIT NO.” “BUT ACTUALLY DO GO ON IM KINDA INTERESTD.” If it were anybody else, you would’ve blocked them. But this wasn’t anybody else. It was your Jaskier: Your foolhardy, constantly horny, but never-short-of-loving Jaskier. And besides, not for nothing, at least they were something you could get a laugh out of.

Which one cried during a fucking Disney movie?: Once again, Jaskier is the guilty party. It’s no secret that he’s the more emotional of the two of you -- he wore his investment in Titanic with pride, after all. But it is a secret that the particular Disney movie to make him cry was Hercules of all things! Not Bambi, not The Lion King, not even Beauty and the Beast, but goddamn Hercules! (On another note, he also cried to Coco. But that barely counts: Literally everyone and their mother has cried during Coco. The only difference here was that Jaskier could relate to being a young man so in love with music while coming from a family that discouraged the pursuit of it.) This isn’t a knock on anyone who enjoys the movie, mind you, but let’s be honest: Out of the Disney animated canon, Hercules isn’t exactly the most . . . emotionally cathartic or heart-string-plucking of the bunch. But just because it didn’t go out of its way to create a crying frenzy doesn’t mean that it’s lacking in some humanity. It is, after all, still a Disney film. The problem is, Jaskier can’t even quite express why it made him cry the night you both decided to watch it. Maybe it had something to do with a young man most people took as a joke trying to achieve greatness? And to be fair, “Go the Distance (Reprise)” and “A Star is Born” differently when you’ve done some growing . . .

Who put a goddamned fork in the microwave?: It only happened once, but you’d never let him live it down. You like to joke that you’d left him to his own devices for just fifteen minutes so that you could take a shower -- of which was completely true -- and that was all he needed for things to go downhill. Nobody wants to think they’d be in the wrong for trusting a 20-something year-old to not be his usually somewhat distractable self. But that particular day, said 20-something year-old decided to occupy that little spot of time to himself with TV and a plate of leftovers. And normally this would’ve been fine and dandy. But normally, Jaskier would’ve just waited for the food to heat before searching for something to watch. It shouldn’t have been too big of an issue that it went the other way around that day, but apparently it was. As much as he wanted to (which honestly wasn’t by much), Jaskier just couldn’t tear his eyes away from the images flashing on the TV. The baby blues were set on the screen the entire while -- up until he heard a faint popping. Followed by a sound he normally only heard in a cheesy sci-fi movie. The problem was, he wasn’t watching anything even remotely science-fiction-y . . . All you were doing when you exited the bathroom was going to grab your lotion. That was literally all you had any expectations for. What you hadn’t expected to come upon was your boyfriend, hollering and diving over the sofa in order to scramble into the kitchen and stop that strange, not-good-sounding sound. Suffice to say, you had to put your shower on hold; it simply had to wait for you to finish fussing, then again for you to finish laughing your ass off. And again because if you entered the shower still laughing, you’d probably slip and break your head open and then Jaskier would have to deal with another possible emergency caused by himself.

Who does the silly hands-over-the-eyes “Guess who?” thing?: You can both be guilty of it, but Jaskier without a doubt does it more. Sometimes he’ll emerge from “his cave” (aka the little nook in the apartment where he likes to mess around and write lyrics or arrangements) on a break and catch an unsuspecting you sitting on the couch or at the dinner table. Other times, it could just be when he comes back from running some errands or doing a quick interview at the local radio station. You don’t mind it much . . . Especially since you can get a rise out of him by purposefully guessing the wrong person. (“Hmmm . . . Could it be . . . my mail-order husband? Boy, that was quick. And all the way from Russia, too . . .” “Uh, no.” “The milkman, finally accepting my invitation to commence a torrid love affair?” “Okay, you know damn well -- ” “Or better yet: My hopes and dreams have manifested, oh, Waluigi, could it really and truly be you!?” “What in the absolute fuck --”)

Who puts their cold hands/feet on their partner?: Because it’s usually himself who presents as being the more mischievous of the two, and because he tends to run the warmest, it always shocks Jaskier when you decide to play dirty and put your cold limbs all over him. Is it childish? Yes. But are his reactions to the sudden feeling of icy flesh hilarious? Also yes. You love to creep up on him when he’s tuning his guitar or scribbling down lyrics, or just minding his own damn business by trying to actually turn in relatively early for once. You love even more to watch him jolt and release the most high-pitched yip a man of his build could ever even joke about making. You’ll still be laughing about it as he scowls at you, cursing your “ghoul hands” and demanding to know if he’s dating a corpse at this point. Of course, no matter how peeved he might be, you can always count on one other thing from his dramatic reactions: Him huffily grabbing your hands into his own and rubbing them warm, or him forcing a park of fuzzy socks on your feet. And just for extra measure, you can be sure that he’ll spend the rest of the night holding you close or cuddling you -- “For exchanging bodily heat purposes,” he will always reason.

Who had that embarrassing reality TV marathon?: You both are guilty of it, actually. The question should really be, who is the least shameful about it. As with most things regarding a lack of shame, it was, of course, our dear Jaskier. Being a musician with a growing following, the little attention whore just can’t miss out on an opportunity to show himself off to his awaiting public. A rising star with relatability and a taste for trash? People eat that shit up! So you’ve learned to be less surprised every time he decides to liveblog himself watching things like Love Island or any of the 90-Day Fiancee spin-offs. In fact, in more recent times, you’ve come to join in with him, adding your own corresponding Tweets and commentary. Though don’t be too shocked once he starts holding polls and letting the public decide what show the two of you should watch next.

Who laughs more during sex?: You do, completely through Jaskier’s own efforts. Jaskier’s always had a pretty lax view of sex. This didn’t change when he met you, of course, but how he specifically portrayed that laxness did undergo some metamorphosis. Before, the entertainer was much more intent on his bedroom experiences being a display of power and an ability to please. Something dramatic and to be taken seriously. He still sees the importance of satisfaction in the bedroom, mind you, but with you, he can’t help but feel more . . . comfortable. With you, it’s a little more okay if he accidentally makes a dumb noise that in no way can be salvaged as sexy. With you, it’s a little more okay if he struggles to get his or your pants off, or if he struggles with removing your bra. And with you, he’s come to find that he’s a lot more okay with sharing a giggle or being a little more loose about things. It’s fine if your fingers tickle him or if he struggles to think of something proper dirty. But it’s even more fine if you think something he says or does makes you laugh, but not in a way that discredits his efforts. When you laugh, it shows that you’re comfortable with him. Comfortable enough to be with him, and be truly vulnerable. So do forgive him if he can’t help but run his fingers up your sides in a tickling fashion, or sloppily string together an innuendo. He simply loves how golden your laughter sounds, even in the throes of passion, intermingled with sweet whimpers and pleas of his name. How the heave of your chest and rippling of your tummy bumpily sync in with the rhythm of his thrusts . . . He just wants to see your smile, your genuine mirth, and bask in it with you. Besides, it serves as excellent song inspiration for him . . .

Who is the little spoon?: It depends on the sway of the day, really. As a whole, you both take turns without much thought simply because you tend to just fall into your positions. Some days, you just happen to lay into him in a way that makes you the little spoon. Other days, he conks out next to you in a manner that most could consider would make you the big spoon (or jet pack). Neither side really fights how it plays out unless one or the other may feel small and vulnerable, or just plain tired and in need of comfort. You often find yourself playing the role of the more dominating position during those first few days after Jaskier returning home from either a quick tour, or after finishing a long week of hours upon hours in the studio, or whatever kind of press-related nonsense his management team told him he needed to do. For as much as your boyfriend loved the spotlight, the truth was he was still quite capable of burning out and needing time to himself. Or, at the very least, just time with you. Even if that means he’s asleep for most of it, with you clinging to his back as he drifts off into a much-needed sleep. He makes sure to return it tenfold when you need just the same. Sure, your occupation may not be of the same nature as his own, but that didn’t mean you were in any less need of his cuddling. In fact, with him being gone as often as he was, Jaskier couldn’t help but feel almost guilty for not always being able to provide you with the basic comforts of being a constantly present boyfriend. Hence why the moment he would see your fatigued body crossing the threshold of your apartment, he would be all over you, ushering you into a quick shower, followed by a quick and simple dinner or snack, and capped off with him cuddling about you from behind. It didn’t matter if you’d come home right in the middle of a writing frenzy, or even if he’d been in the middle of searching for a breakthrough with an arrangement -- for as vain and bullheaded as Jaskier could be, he knew he owed you at least this much. You already put up with so much of his nonsense; this was quite literally the least he could do, both for you and for himself. Besides, he who was he to fight against the feeling of you wiggling closer into his hold, to deny himself the sound of your soft breathing as you lay yourself vulnerable to him? The fact of the matter is that he simply isn’t. He couldn’t be. Maybe in the beginning when things were still so unsteady and uncertain, but never now, when things had become so . . . well, what he could only describe as being “the both of you”. The both of you, molded and entwined, never wanting to let go. Never planning on it, either.

[otheenglishsetters]

WIP (AKA, I never published my work on Tumblr before and I am TERRIFIED)

Hello! I finally gave in and splurged on a Xbox this year, which may have also coincided with my rising anxiety and boredom since I’ve decided to take a year off of college (my senior year to be exact). Luckily, my boyfriend and friends, knowing how I tend to throw myself into fictional worlds when I am stressed had recommended to me this sweet little game series. It was filled with space and wonder and characters so wonderful that they will make your heart hurt.

That, dear readers, was Mass Effect. 

I had already played a little of the first game of the original trilogy at the very beginning of 2020 at my boyfriend’s house, long before all of my post-college plans came crashing down (as did the world too!) 

So I finally invested my time (and money) into Mass Effect Andromeda in November of 2020. Let me tell you, after loosing control over everything else in my life [laying panicked in bed, constantly praying that the pandemic would not claim the life of my middle aged father after already losing my mother to lung cancer just two years prior], it was unbelievably refreshing to be able to have some resemblance of control in this fictional world (And yes, I realize that this is a video game and of course I have control). And the fact that what Bioware was doing was...pretty freaking great.

So, I apologize if this is coming off a pity-party, I promise, it isn’t supposed to be. It’s more like I had just finished my first playthrough of my first videogame ever and I am filled with feelings and emotions. I never post original content on Tumblr, and that’s mostly because I got scared off posting my work after receiving mean-spirited reviews when I posted my fanfiction on Fanfiction.com years and years ago (which is fair, because looking back my work wasn’t that great, but holy crap I was 14 guys!) I have not written creatively since my high school creative writing class in senior year, but this game and this winter, I thought I would try? And hopefully get to connect with other fans? Let me know what you guys think; I’m planning to add more chapters/content soon. Okay, I’ll quit rambling...

He notices that she tends to have a lazy eye. He’s not sure when exactly he notices this, but it’s becoming more and more apparent.

Which is not a problem, absolutely not. In fact, he thinks it’s adorable in a way, especially when she’s tucked into a pillow and loudly craving sushi. 

“I wondered if she was mocking me,” Keema notes one day. Out of all the Angara Reyes has had the pleasure to meet, she still seems one of the few who can truly read humans in a non-lateral sense. Her favorite so far was when she discovered the music genres of both EDM and metal in the same day, “it wasn’t until I was approving shipping orders from the docks the other day I realized why. The Pathfinder needs glasses.”

She also loses control of her lazy eye, it seems, mostly at night, usually by 2300 hours standard time. 

“I’ve been reading studies about team bonding.”

He hums as he rubs her back. Sara, despite commenting on the numerous things she’s done throughout her day, seems wired and intent on rambling. He’s okay with that. More than okay, it’s been years practically since either of them has had a free moment to even been able to just relax in bed and daydream. They probably both haven’t been able to enjoy this luxury since they were…teens? Finishing school and about to launch themselves into the military? For him, he figures it was before that, probably when he decided to work for that florist at 12. Sara gives bits and pieces of her life in the Milky Way but he thinks she was definitely a kid who tried to ‘help’ C-Sec with their cases, constantly looking for ways to help people in any way she can. He smiles. It’s probably a never-ending itch for her. 

And now? He’s just content that he convinced her to come down to Kadara to ‘inspect Ditaeon’, or whatever bullshit she told Tann. Luckily, it seems that life is, slower? No, that’s not it, people are more than excited to create themselves anew here. Stores and trading posts are popping up everywhere and another hospital has just been built in Prodromos. There’s practically a whole shopping district in Kadara now, with outdoor venues and a movie theater that plays cinema classics every night. It’s more like they both are finally properly settled into their positions, like when a CEO is situated in a new company. Sure, the CEO may face numerous problems at first, especially if it’s during a recession or the company is about to go bankrupt. The CEO may even have to intimidate secondary managers and fight to gain respect; however, once the dust settles, whilst there may be everyday problems, it’s nothing compared to what it used to be. Usually, these problems are solved by lunchtime, mid-morning if either of them are lucky.

In the old days, when she appeared to be this amped up, Reyes would subtly (or not so subtle, it depends on how you look at it), swoon her until they had sex. It probably didn’t feel that way at the time, but sometimes Reyes cringes when he thinks of how rushed their attempts at romance used to be. Back then, they didn’t know how long she would be in the area and they would race to make the most of the evening. Now he wonders how much he used to unconsciously push aside the thought that either one of them could be dead the next day. 

Errrr. Negative bedtime thoughts. Not good for sleepytime. 

“Darling?”

“Yes?”

“Are you listening?”

“You were just telling me how you were reading various theses on social exchange theory but then you were already anxious about the thing that you have yet to tell me so you decided to read something familiar like one of the works by Dr. Brené Brown,” he pauses to give a quick glance at the data pad in his right hand. “Mi cielo, I have been informed to tell you that your contacts have been delivered as they were just sent in, along with the rest of the Tempest’s supplies, this morning.” 

He liked to think he was a good boyfriend.

“I hate when you do that.”

“What?” Listen? Dearest, it’s part of the job description as your lover. Speaking of, remind me to pick up toilet paper tomorrow.”

“No, multitask.”

He sighs and reaches up into the upper center of her back. Oof, she really is tense there. “You do it too.”

“Not at nighttime!” She scowls and rubs her eyebrow. “Ew, when did I become an old prune as soon as it gets dark?”

He starts tenderizing the hard muscle. Mentally, he makes a note to remind her later when she’s not grumpy to do her prescribed yoga. “We’re all getting older dear. I’m thirty-one and the other day I heard my knees crack.” 

She was silent. Any other fool would think that she was lost in thought while others would be jealous of the close bond she shares with her AI. Honestly, Reyes is just grateful she spends any of her time with him, let alone his bed. And if she occupies a part of it in a mental showdown with SAM, who is he to complain. 

“SAM thinks you should get an appointment. Even if Dr. Nakamoto is busy, there’s plenty of others who are just as qualified. Also, I think Peebee and Jaal are sleeping with each other.” 

  Both he and Sara know the in(s) and the outs of their jobs so well by now, that he can probably predict easily what his men will ask for even before the message is downloaded on his office’ terminal. However right now, as Reyes stops reading a report on corn being grown on Havarl that he already skimmed over this morning over his huevos rancheros, all he can think about before checking to see if he is correct is how her left non-dominant eye is floating far out to the side. 

Hmmm, who knew fraternization would be cutting into his beauty sleep? 

*************************************************

If you made it this far, thanks so much for checking this out! I apologize for any grammar mistakes. If you’re confused, this is set to take place three years after the Hyperion first makes contact with the Nexus in the Andromeda Galaxy. I was just so intrigued by the dialogue between Jaal and Peebee. And then, after the initial curiosity, I was about to forget about it when I came across some interesting dialogue while driving the Nomad...

Jaal: Vetra, I catch Peebee looking at me. Frequently.

Vetra: Peebee likes new shiny things. Uhh… and why not? You’re genuinely interesting.

#

Jaal: Vetra, remember when I told you that Peebee was looking at me? Frequently?

Vetra: Yeah? Is it getting annoying? Want me to say something?

Jaal: No, no, no. It’s… just that… lately, I find myself… looking back. 

Vetra: Huh.

**

So of course I had to dig into that! And what better way to do so than by using my new favorite ship: Reyes and Sara? (Domestic times!)

Anyways friends, hopefully my writing isn’t awful and you enjoyed yourselves. I may wake up in the morning and delete this. Who knows. 

Have a great day guys!

[amandajeanwrites]

The End of an Era

Seven years ago, yes count those, SEVEN years ago, in late 2014, at the peak of internet fashion hauls and makeup tutorials, during the rise of YouTube and Pinterest and Tumblr, I moved from podunk Montana to the big urban areas in and around Portland, Oregon. Portlandia was airing, hipsters were growing mustaches and wearing plaid on a global scale, and I was ready to drink craft beer and breathe in as much pine scent as I could muster. 

I wanted to be a Blogger or a Vlogger. I wanted to talk about travel, but also film, but also also makeup and fashion because I was growing into my fashionista-ness. I wanted to infiltrate little boutiques and hold events and start social media campaigns, you know, really get ahead of the curve. So my first(ish) job when I moved out here was working as a sales associate for a tiny boutique.

Now, this boutique was a chain based in Austin or Houston or something, so I wasn’t going to head their social media anytime soon, and I was just working as a lowly sales associate at minimum wage, and I’m pretty sure I only worked about twenty hours to start out, but I had confidence in myself and my abilities to grow up and out.

God, I remember during my interview, I wore this NEON FLORAL swing dress that I’d bought in Portland with my Mom that July, paired with a neon sports bra that matched the colors in the dress, all topped off with a God awful cobalt blue cropped cardigan and probably some glitter-embellished shoes. For those of you who have grown to love and appreciate my new sense of style (emo-chic), you’ll understand how mind-boggling that would have been. Oh God, I probably also had matching neon lipstick and eyeliner or something.

The point is, I was young and adorable and confident in my skin and my outfit decisions. I remember panicking throughout the interview, noticing bright colors on the racks of the stock room over the manager’s head and just talking about how much I loved color… the ENTIRE interview. It’s honestly a miracle she hired me.

The reason I’m talking about this now, and the reason it’s all come surging back into my memory so damn vividly, is because Sean and I were walking through that little shopping center over the weekend (the entire mall has been and always will be one of my favorite places in my area), and we walked by this little boutique to see it’s Closing. We hopped in and bought four pairs of earrings as a last donation to the cause, and I immediately felt bitter sweet and melancholy and nostalgic for everything I learned and did there.

I talk about my outfits, my prospects at that time in my life, to reflect on just how much I’ve grown. I was so young, on the edge of 23, and I moved away from home for the very first time. I dragged my boyfriend along with me, and we overstayed our welcome at my Grandma’s. I actually remember driving the 40 minutes to work and 40 minutes back in the middle of the night, fog coating the road and my car, cranking One Direction’s Four album. (A premonition that Zayn was leaving, don’t we think!?)

I was experimenting with a social media presence, with blogging, with fashion and makeup, absorbing everything I could. I explored Portland and the surrounding areas. We went to the coast constantly. I just wanted to get out and see the world, be whoever I didn’t think I could back home. I was making new friends and trying to figure out who I was without college or Musicals or the country western bars or Perkins.

The biggest issues I had were suburban Moms from Lake Oswego that wheeled strollers through our claustrophobic boutique, knocking breakables off the gift table and then scoffing at us before they left. I spent hours irritated with my boss for being a controlling 25-year-old (an actual child). I clung to the drama of my past, not understanding how to be without thinking of how much my hometown had “wronged me”. Dear God, I was dramatic. 

I had prejudices, against suburban Moms! And against sex workers and against hipsters and against Big City people that didn’t understand Little City people and against Little City people that didn’t understand me. 

I talked too much and didn’t work hard. My only real memories of actual work from that boutique were untangling the God damn necklaces, which TRUST me was an 8 hour task. Mainly, though, we dusted the room for the 40th time and gossiped about senseless things like boyfriends that wouldn’t hurry up and propose already! (Sean did two and a half years later.)

I met my best friend there, unexpectedly. I remember meeting her and thinking she was way too cool for me. She’s stunning, hip, knows how to style a French tuck, and she seemed to rule the boutique in a way that I couldn’t ever match. The actual manager hated it too, always trying to undermine her to appear superior. None of us could live up to the grace and beauty that was Rochelle. 

We bonded over our hatred for retail and our love for One Direction and YouTube and conspiracy theories, and I’m so so glad we did. I also met at least three of my other best friends as an extension, and if any of you are reading this, I love you all. 

I took up writing again in 2014. First, little blog pieces, like I mentioned before. I wrote about my favorite products and all the places I wanted to visit in Oregon (some of them, I still haven’t crossed off my list. Sean? Get the car!). But then, something in me whispered that I needed to try creative writing again. I don’t think I’d written a story for years, not since freshman year of college when I’d write dramatic love stories about the boys I had crushes on. (Do you remember that, Aubrie? So embarrassing!) 

So I sat down, the day after Christmas, at my grandma’s countertop, and I decided to start writing a tiny piece of fiction every single day for a year. That was my goal, just a year. Until I couldn’t stop. I think I did just over 550 days, and even then, I never thought that someday I’d call myself a “writer”. I was still working retail, planning on social media management and fashion blogging, at a different boutique and a different stage in my life. But that’s a story for another time. 

I guess the point of all this, the reminiscing and nostalgia, is that if I could go back and pay that girl a visit, walk into that store and help her untangle those necklaces, I’d tell her her colored mascara is fierce and that she should keep at it. I’d tell her that someday, she would laugh at all of the drama from back home. I’d tell her that she’d move on to bigger and better jobs, and she’d kick ass at them until she realized her true calling. I’d tell her to keep writing because nothing will make her happier. I’d tell her to buy less furniture, because she’s going to be in that apartment too damn long. 

But mostly, I’d tell her that time moves on and people change and interests change and the weather changes, so just have a total blast with everything you’re doing right now, in the moment. I want to look back in another 7 years with twice the amount of fondness, knowing that I was struggling with silly, minute qualms that won’t matter then. Knowing how much I’ve grown and learned and shaped, I can’t wait to see how much I’ll grow and learn and shape in the future. 

Although, I do hope, in 7 years, I’m still wearing strictly black and white. Hahaha! 

What were you wearing in 2014? It’s important I know.

Thank you so much for sticking around all of these years and putting up with me and supporting me. And thank you, as always, for reading xo

[sheeple]

The intern | 7: Game night and date talk

GIFS NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): intern!au / fluff / mild angst Group(s): NCT / Red Velvet Pairing(s): Moon Taeil x fem!reader Summary: The new Elysion Publishings intern is the youngest they ever had. It’s not a problem until she grabs the attention of the IT guy. Warning(s): Age-gap of five years [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist]

My eyes scan across the houses, searching for a number 22 and a red brick house. The phone in my hand vibrates and I see that Mark’s calling. 

“Are you almost here?”, he asks the moment I pick up. 

“Hi to you too. I guess? I am kinda lost, so if you would be so nice to walk out the door or so, then I know where I need to be.”

Mark chuckles as I hear him shuffle around the house, a door opens and he stands outside. “Found you”, he says as I hear his voice behind me. 

I turn around and laugh. All this time, it was just under my nose. Or better said, behind my back.

We hug each other short and Mark lets me in, instructing me to slide off my shoes and hang my jacket on the coatrack.

“Lucas, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), this is Yukhei but he goes by Lucas”, says Mark as soon as we enter the living room at the tall boy on the couch, a controller in his hands. 

He pauses the game he’s playing and stands up, engulfing me into a comforting hug. It’s the kind of hug you would never refuse. His long arms wrap perfectly around your body and he would press your face in his chest. That kind of hug, the brotherly one.

I smile and hug him back, wrapping my arms around his back and give him a little pat. 

“So I heard you were all in when Mark told you I would be here too?” Lucas grins at me and I roll my eyes. Of course, the idiot told him.

“Mark just wouldn’t shut up about you, so I wanted to see for myself how wonderful the one and only Wong Yukhei himself was”, I answer while taking a seat on Mark’s couch.

“That’s not true!”, yells Mark from the kitchen, “I wouldn’t talk all the time about him. I talked about Hyuck too.”

Oh yeah, Lee Donghyuck, the other dork of the trio. I saw a couple of pictures of him on Mark’s Insta but other than that, I haven’t seen him yet. He’s pretty. A bright smile that resembles the sun, fluffy, dirty blond hair.

“How did the two of you even met. Because I don’t see any possibility that Mark approached you himself.”

I laugh loudly, throwing my head back and running a hand through my hair. 

“She works with my cousin, Wendy. She set us up for that date a while back”, says Mark as he walks back into the living room within his hands a tray with three glasses, a bottle coke, and bows with chips and watermelon slices. 

He lets himself fall on the other side of me, so I am sandwiched between the two boys. 

Lucas leans slightly back, his eyes big. “Wendy noona?! Does that mean you’re... like twenty-four or so?”

I chuckle at the panic in his eyes. “No”, I shake my head, “I’m just an intern there. If I’m right, I am as old as both of you, born in 1999.”

He sighs deeply, a wave of relief washes over his face before that permanent grin returns. “So, you two went on a date? How did it go?”

“As you see, pretty well. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting here.” 

“But”, continues Mark with a chuckle, “we’re better off as friends. It was too awkward if it would be a relationship. And also, she likes someone else.”

“I do not!”, I protest while giving Mark a shove against his shoulder. 

“You so do. When I got your snap this morning, you weren’t in your apartment. So, I checked the map and did some stalking, you were at that IT guy’s place.” 

Mark grins as he sees the panic in my eyes before turning to Lucas. “She wouldn’t stop rambling about some guy at the office who works in the IT department. What was his name again? Taeyong?”

I groan and let my head fall back onto the backrest of the couch. “Taeil, not Taeyong. And I didn’t talk all the time about him.” 

Mark tuts his lips. “Not how it went, but okay, I’ll let it slide. This time.”

Lucas nudges me. “You have a crush? Cute!”, he exclaims, capping his hands enthusiastic together. “Tell me more about him.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Are we really gonna talk about boys?” 

Lucas nods as Mark gives me a glass filled with coke. I thank him with a slight smile before sipping, licking my lips.

“Okay, so. A couple of weeks ago I pissed off Wendy. At the time, I was at the IT guy’s desk to fix some problem on my Mac and he helped me hide from the angry Wendy that stormed towards us. Since then we kinda hang out together”, I shrug.

“How old is he?”, questions Lucas, his eyes filled with interest. 

“Ehm... let me think. He’s born in ‘94, so that makes him twenty-five?” 

Lucas and Mark both gasp. “He’s so old, (Y/n)!” 

“I know! You don’t have to tell me that.” I chew on my bottom lip while looking down. I lace my hands in my hair, gripping it tightly. 

“Are... are you okay?”, asks Mark concerned as he lays a hand on my shoulder. Lucas raises his eyebrows while leaning closer, waiting for me to speak.

“I─”, I let out a sigh, “honestly, no. I’m not okay. I am scared. There is this unfamiliar feeling inside my chest and I don’t know how to act upon it. I never felt this way in my life before and it’s stressing me out. It feels like I can spontaneously burst like every minute.”

“What do you mean you never felt like this? Did you never had a crush on someone or a boyfriend before?”

I shake rapidly my head. I was too busy with school and getting good grades. Of course, I had liked some guys in the past but not in a romantical way. The guys from my school were too... childlike and immature for my taste.

“I was too occupied with not disappointing my parents. Also, there’s no way any guy ever saw me more than a friend.” I let out a dry chuckle. “Can we please stop talking about this. I came here to game, not to cry and talk about my feelings.”

I grab a hand full of chips and throw it at Mark and Lucas. Lucas screeches and hides away, almost falling off the couch. We all laugh as Mark grabs the controllers of his Switch, giving me one and picking a game.

Wendy sprints towards me as she sees me walking into the office Monday morning, grabbing both my arms before dragging me away towards the toilet. 

“Spill it. You so were at his house!”, she almost screams in my face as Wendy takes place on top of the sink. 

“There’s no point in denying that, right?”, I question with a slight blush on my face and Wendy shakes her head. 

“Okay, fine. I stayed at his place. BUT that’s only because he had some alcohol and wouldn’t let me drive him home and then go home with the metro. It was ‘too dangerous’ according to him. It was not even midnight yet.”

I pace around the bathroom as I rant. “I also couldn’t let him go home alone, that wouldn’t be responsible of me. I slept on the couch, by the way”, I quickly add as I see Wendy’s face twist in pure joy. 

“So you guys didn’t do...”, she trails off with a smug look while doing the sign. 

I scrunch my nose in disgust. “Ew, what the... no! We didn’t do the devil’s tango!”

Wendy coos at my word choice and pinches my cheeks. I swat her hands away and turn around. 

“So, what did you two do?”, she questions. Wendy leans forward and looks at me with interest.

“That evening? Nothing? We were tired from all the walking around and chatting with his friends that we went straight to bed. The next day he joined me in grocery shopping.”

She sighs dreamily. “Sounds like such a nice date.” She flutters her lashes and folds her hands together, pushing them against her face.

As I want to snap back, a door of a toilet stall gets pushed open and a familiar face walks in. 

My face heats up as Wendy greets Seulgi. She’s one of Wendy’s friends who works at HR. Seulgi is also the reason that Wendy applied for a job at Ely.

“You know”, says Seulgi with a soft smile as she washes her hands, “he sounds like a really sweet guy, Moon Taeil.” She whispers the last part as she doesn’t want anyone other to hear it.

“How... no offence but how do you know?” My eyes are blown wide as the two girls snicker. 

“Wendy loves to rant about how cute the two of you are and how one of you has to square the fuck up.”

I groan and look at Wendy. She shrugs. “I was only stating facts.”

“Can I ask a question before I go forward with my day?”

I nod as Seulgi grabs both of my hands. “Why aren’t the two of you already dating? I bet you guys would look good together.”

I lick my lips. “Can I be totally honest with the two of you?”, I ask and they both nod at the same time. 

“I am scared of relationships. To be more precise, I’m scared of falling in love with someone and only to leave to go home. I just...”

“You don’t want anyone to lose someone dear to you”, adds Wendy as she slides off the sink and grabs one of my hands. “Don’t worry. I’ve seen the look in his eyes. He will never leave you, even if you’re on the other side of the world.”

I sniff, looking up to push away the tears in my eyes. 

“Are you crying? Come here, you big baby.” Wendy engulfs me in a hug and Seulgi joins soon after. 

“There’s also another thing...”, I say quietly as the let me go. “I’ve never been in a relationship.”

“YOU WHAT?!”

[sadienita]

Should Have Deleted That

Reader x Hoseok

Word Count: 1.6k

Merry Christmas @sunburnt4junghoseok also this is basically crack

You were stressed, but you were always stressed at least to some degree over work. It never seemed to matter how much you liked or disliked your job, at some point it would end up stressing you out. And while you hadn’t planned on taking it home with you you were still here, with an empty word document and searching through your mess of a documents folder for numerous files that you should have organized ages ago.

“This is hopeless,” you muttered angrily, pushing yourself back from the desk and dropping your head into your hands.

You heard Hoseok get up from the couch and make his way up behind you. He rested his hands on your shoulders.

“Maybe you should take a break, my love.” he said softly.

“Yeah,” you sighed, knowing if you protested he’d force you to take a break anyway. “I’m going to get a snack.” You got up from your seat and stretched, heading to the kitchen. You figured if nothing else this would clear your mind a bit and you might be able to figure out where those damn files were hidden.

As you warmed up food you stood with your elbows on the counter, rubbing your temples. It felt good to step away from the computer for a few minutes. You knew you’d been working way too much today and the break was very much needed. It did strike you as odd that Hobi wasn’t here snuggling you, which he usually did when you were stressed like this, but as if reading your mind he entered the kitchen and hugged you from behind.

“Feeling better dear?” he murmured, swaying slowly with you.

You hummed, grabbed your food, and headed to the couch to cuddle with your boyfriend.

At first, you figured nothing was wrong. You were pretty sure you’d left a different folder open on the computer when you got up for your break but you were too tired and stressed to care. You figured you just forgot where you were searching, the evening had been slowly becoming a blur so whatever, right?

Wrong.

So so wrong.

It started the next night. You were cuddling in bed with your boyfriend, both of you on your phones, and he kept giggling.

“What are you chuckling at?” you asked.

“Nothing.” he mumbled a little too quickly. You shot him a suspicious look but he was still glued to his phone. You let it go.

Until two minutes later he was chuckling to himself again. This time you put down your phone.

“Hobi, tell me what you’re looking at!” you whined. You swiped for his phone but he held it up out of your reach.

“You don’t need to know.” he teased. You wiggled around trying to get a good look at the screen but all you could make out was text, no memes or funny pictures.

“What could you be reading that’s so funny!?”

“Nothing,” he laughed. “Don’t worry about it, alright my dear?”

You were going to protest further but he cut you off with a kiss so you let it slide. You knew he did it on purpose, you could never resist his kisses, but you also didn’t really care.

The next few days carried on in the same fashion. Hoseok would never tell you what was on his phone, making him giggle and blush. You never managed to get his phone away from him, it was those damn kisses, they were just too distracting.

Either way, you ended up shrugging it off. He didn’t seem to want to tell you and you still couldn’t figure out what on earth he would be laughing at that he wouldn’t want you to see.

You figured he’d tell you sooner or later.

You were hanging out in the dorms on the boy’s day off. As much as you really wanted to relax with your boyfriend you knew that getting a little bit of work done would make your life much easier the next day. So you brought your laptop and promised Hobi that you’d snuggle with him as soon as you were done. You barely noticed him getting up to leave and go get food but you did notice the cough coming from the doorway a few moments later. You looked up but who ever it had been had passed by already. You went back to your work until you heard a string of coughs and something that undeniably sounded “throbbing member.”

Your head snapped up but again the person was gone. You could feel yourself slowly growing cold as a thought crossed your mind.

There was no way Hobi could have found your fan fiction, right? Hadn’t you deleted it a year ago when you were going through old files? You frantically searched, trying to find it and bring it up and apparently it was still there. Well this would explain why he was laughing at something written. You felt your face heat up as he re-entered the room.

“Is everything alright, love?” he chuckled.

You looked up at him slowly. What could you even say to him? How did you ask him about reading the fanfiction you had written about him?

There really no good way to address this.

“I, uh, yeah I’m fine.”

He grinned knowingly. “You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you, right?”

“Yeah yeah of course!” you said a little too quickly, snapping your laptop shut. “You know what though your snack is making me hungry I’m gonna go grab something to eat real quick.” You stood up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before taking off down the hallway. You had to buy yourself a few minutes to process an figure out what on earth to say to him.

You were almost to the kitchen, passing the living room, when you heard giggling.

You whipped around and stuck your head through the doorway to find the source of the giggles. Jeongguk, Jimin, Taehyung and Seokjin were huddled together on a couch giggling while scrolling through something on a phone. Yoongi looked up at you and snorted while Namjoon tried to suppress a laugh when he caught sight of you.

No.

No no no no.

He did not. There was no way this was happening to you.

There was no way your sweet loving boyfriend both found your old fanfiction and sent it to the rest of BTS. He wouldn’t. Why would he want to? He couldn’t have.

“Hi dear.” came Hoseok’s voice as he wrapped an arm around you and planted a kiss on your cheek. “You took off pretty quickly a moment ago.”

You turned to look at him as the rest of the room held in their laughter. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“Ah, my baby is such a wonderful writer, I wanted to share your talent!” he beamed. The rest of the room burst into howls of laughter.

“Ah yes it’s so good! Shall we read a selection?” Jin chimed.

A strangled screech came from your throat as Hobi held you in a hug.

“You trembled as his finger slid along your soaking lower lips and he purred into your ear-” You cut off his reading with a scream as you lunged across the room for the phone. Jin tossed the phone above you and to Taehyung.

“‘You’ve been such a naughty girl, haven’t you?’ ‘Yes daddy.’ you moaned. ‘Please punish me.’”

You lunged again, this time at Taehyung who almost knocked a lamp over throwing the phone across the room to Jeongguk.

“Oh hold on there was a really good part further down. Oh oh here! ‘He rubbed his massive log along my quivering womanhood. ‘Are you ready for me baby?’”

You moved faster than you ever had and grabbed the phone from his hand. The boys dissolved into laughter while you dropped to the ground, your brain totally fried and your hands shaking.

“As fun as this is,” Hoseok chuckled, “I think she’s had enough.”

“I second that.” Yoongi muttered. “And if I have to hear anymore I’m ripping my ears off.”

The boys wiped the tears from their eyes as Hoseok helped you up and out of the room.

“You know I really do think you’re a good writ-”

“Not now.” you hissed. As soon as you got to his room you got your headphones on and opened your laptop. You were determined to work all night now and leave no time for cuddling him. One of these days he was really going to embarrass you to death, you were sure of it.

As the evening wore on and you stole glances at how comfy he looked your resolve wavered. You finally took off your headphones and peeked up at him.

He caught your gaze and grinned. “Yes?”

“Why in earth did you share that with them?”

He chuckled. “It was funny. Plus you are a good writer!”

You sighed and moved onto the bed and into his waiting arms. “You really embarrassed me. They’ll never let me live it down.”

He kissed your temple. “They’ll leave you alone if I ask them too. Also embarrassing you is in my job description.”

“I strongly disagree.” you mumbled, snuggling closer to him.

“Well until we have kids you’re the only one I have to embarrass.”

“Jung Hoseok!” you cried, hitting his arm.

“What! What did I say?!” he laughed.

“How do you manage to turn every dumb thing you do into something sweet??”

He chuckled. “It’s just a part of my charm, love.”

[pinupgalore-lanadelrey]

lake placid, aka era

LAKE PLACID

Yes, definitely. I was a different sort of child, as half the children are. They are or they aren’t. I was in that category of being free-spirited [laughs].

I go back now to visit my grandma and grandpa, but it’s not really somewhere I’ve spent a lot of time, not since I was 14. It’s beautiful. It’s a vacation destination. Olympics. It’s small, 2,800 people [laughs] it’s very different from here. 

It was boring. That town is crazy, too. I was a bad girl, but I’m good now. I guess I have some bad tendencies. I don’t like to do hurtful things, but I am drawn to the wild side. I love riding motorcycles; I love rollercoasters; I do like adrenaline. But I’ve also found true happiness when I was living in New York and working with other people in that way that we’ve talked about. So, I don’t know. But I don’t feel at odds with it. 

They didn’t have too much music around, but they actually both had really nice voices. My dad wrote country songs for fun, and my mom sang for fun. My dad liked the Beach Boys, my mom liked Carly Simon, but we didn’t really listen to them; we just put the radio on -- whatever would be on the radio.

I would write fiction on my own time, and I liked writing in school. I thought that was one of the less offensive school subjects, so that was fun for me. I transitioned to singing when I picked up the guitar. I’ve never been good at the guitar -- always been bad -- but it did help me write for the first four years.

I wondered if you wrote -- your lyrics are so narrative. They sound like stories. I’ve been in New York now seven years, and it’s been a really long road, so the parts of my life that I draw from lyrically are maybe the more dramatic segments of the time that I’ve been here. But they are all true.

Do you feel like you struggled when you moved to New York? Yeah, it was difficult, as it is for everyone. Maybe myself a little bit more, but that was my own fault.

SCHOOL

I didn’t live at school, I lived where I could and studied what I enjoyed studying. I took what I wanted from that education but was making my first record at the same time. I don’t know anyone from school. I was just leading a different life. I was really interested in writing and other things.

Lana Del Rey: I was social, just in a different way. I loved my teachers. I feel like kids can be hard to get along with sometimes and I don’t know anyone from my school I’ve been to. I’m sure they were nice.

Lana Del Rey: No, I didn’t feel ostracized. I just had different priorities. I was reading and writing. I was pursuing my own education [laughs] which paid off, I’ve learned so many different things.

What does metaphysics entail?

It’s not as complicated as it sounds. There’s different branches so it depends on which branch you’re studying. If you’re studying something like cosmogony, you’re studying about the origins of the universe, and how reality came to be reality. Like this space that we’re sitting in now -- how did we come to inhabit this place? And why this reality strikes us as it is. I studied that up in the Bronx.

I did move into a trailer park when I made my first record. I got ten grand from Five Points Records and moved into Manhattan Mobile Home in New Jersey. And I was happy, because I was doing it for myself. 

Well, I lived in the Bronx for four years. I lived in Brooklyn for like four years after that. I always consider myself to have a serious street side, even when I was in high school. I mean, I was pretty crazy. Everyone I knew was really crazy.

I define myself eccentric psychologically but in the interviews that it’s often misunderstood. Maybe because my life had a lot of transformations, more transitions. My life has gone through various incarnations, mostly transitions. But I don’t consider myself to be someone very provocative or radical – I embrace a lot of traditional things. But I believe in alternative lifestyles and in alternative relationships.

Yes, exactly like Twin Peaks. I was hoping to get out and get to New York because that felt like heaven. I like going to the corner store and tell you that a man [in Spanish], “Hello beautiful, how are you? ‘.

_________________________________________________

I remember for the short time we lived together in NYC, I used to come home from work and see the entire wall of our studio apartment covered in weird tropical backdrops from the Party City store. There would be tinsel everywhere and streamers taped to the walls and I was furious because it looked like the most bizarre amateur movie set, plus I was worried for your sanity because I couldn’t see where you were going with all of it. Looking back though, your obsession with strange nick knacks and Hawaiian embellishments were like little hints of colors to come for future sounds and videos. Yeah, of course I remember those days. You hated my electric fishtank which gave me endless amusement. (She winks!)

For the record, I loved that fish tank, you gave it to me for my 19th birthday. I believe the inadvertant theme was ‘Chinatown.’ Now, I know you don’t love to talk about this because journalists have sort of mythologized your past but let’s talk about the trailer park you lived in for a few years- I shot you there when you were 22 and continued to shoot you there for a couple years while you were writing and entertaining and wrapping up your album with David Kahne. You were so sweet and happy that you had your very own place to write and reside in, and extra money from that $10,000 indie contract. It was also a sad time for you because you separated from Steven Mertens who had originally produced that record and who was your boyfriend at the time. I don’t really have to ask you this because as your sister, I think I already know, but would you say this was your most enriching time as an artist and happiest time in New York (despite the split from Steven.) [Smile] Yes.

Do you remember decorating David Kahne’s studio? I remember sitting next to a decorative Urn during one of your recording sessions. Even now, you’ll bring ribbons or bows or specific iconography to recording sessions. How important is it that your space reflects your personal style or headspace? I honestly haven’t thought about that in so long. I used to have to have some sort of talisman with me if I was writing. Something connected to the lyrics like a sparkle jumprope or a golden compact mirror- at the time it was really important. Now I have internalized so much of what I’ve come to love that I don’t think about it as much any more.

I loved New York. When I was there it was almost my sole source of inspiration, more than any other man, writer or rapper, but it’s harder for me to get around now. I used to take late night walks over the Williamsburg Bridge, go to all the 24 hour diners with $5 and beg the waiters to let me stay all night in exchange for the purchase of one giant slice of chocolate cake. I would sit for hours and read about interesting people like Karl Lagerfeld and listen to books on tape by Tony Robins to keep me company. I would take the D train to Coney Island, take the D train back to the Bronx where I lived on Hughes Avenue.

I did move into a trailer park when I made my first record. I got ten grand from Five Points Records and moved into Manhattan Mobile Home in New Jersey. And I was happy, because I was doing it for myself. There was a white trash element in the way there was a time that I didn’t want to be a part of mainstream society because I thought it was gross. I was trying to carve my own piece of the pie in a creative way that I kind of knew how. And I thought it was cool to be living by myself and working with a famous producer. I was excited about the future at the time.

Like when I was working with my first producer David Kahne and I was in that mobile home for two years. I was between there and Williamsburg and I had a boyfriend then. It was a very happy time. 

I was doing open mic nights in the city with my guitar at Layla Lounge, Galapagos, where those places are open. Same place every girl singer was playing. One of many tragic Lower East side songstresses, oh dear! What must they think? And I met really nice people. Everyone in Brooklyn was doing a folk thing, and I was in that camp, singing sort of jazz. I entered a songwriting competition, I didn’t win, and one of the judges on the panel was an A&R man at a record label that had no other acts and I signed to them. We sent my demo out to five people and David Kahne got back to me that day, and said I think you’re amazing I want to start with you tomorrow. He was like my Harvard reach school, I couldn’t believe it. I was really excited. It was the first time anyone of any importance said I was good and I ran with that validation for a long time. 

“I was always writing little songs, but nothing I liked then. When I left school I wanted to do music because I thought I was good at it and I wanted to do something that I loved. So my uncle taught me to play guitar and I did these little shows, just me and my guitar, singing and playing the five chords that I knew.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In her years in New York, working “odd jobs” and “helping out in the community, in alcohol and drug awareness programs” and playing the singer-songwriter open-mic circuit.  

Just going to open-mic nights and things like that. It was mostly in Brooklyn. It was a folk scene. When I was 19, I signed to an independent record label. I was the only act on their roster, and then that record was shelved. After that, I still wanted to sing, but I started focusing on being an active member of my community.

In fact, she seems to be retracting more and more from public view, after buying a house in Los Angeles with her brother and sister. 

There was an older song that you've never heard called "Pawn Shop Blues". [sings] "In the name of higher consciousness / I let the best man I met go / Because it's nice to love and be loved but it's better to know all you can know." Because I remember I'd met someone so special and famous but I knew he wasn't enlightened about how to be a good person. I knew it would get in the way of me becoming a nice person. That's a difficult choice to make. 

How did you meet this famous person? Um, it was in a self-help group. [laughs]. He wasn't that famous. I justthought he was famous…

TV famous or movie star famous? Rock star famous.  Just middle of the road ish. To me he was famous because I didn't know anyone who was wildly recognisable. I remember thinking it was exciting at the time.

[clawfootpress]

Dear Mr. Met:

The other day I was riding my bike and I blew right through a stop sign. Didn’t even slow down. Didn’t even see it. I blame the Mets, partly. I was listening to a Mets game on my phone and they were winning but the Orioles had the bases loaded in the eighth and I was getting nervous. It was only my second day as a dog walker, so the part of my brain that wasn’t worried about the Mets was worried that I’d left a dog outside or a door unlocked or maybe the owners thought my notes were weird and they didn’t want me walking their dog again. With my brain full of such thoughts and feelings, I blew right through the stop sign.

  I don’t mean I saw the stop sign, slowed down, looked both ways, and rolled on through without coming to a full stop. I do that all the time. No, I’m talking about blowing right through it, not even knowing it was there.

  I don’t normally listen to my phone when I’m out biking, running, or walking. I don’t like things in my ears, for one, and I genuinely like hearing the sounds of the city. I thought I might be okay listening to the game since I wasn’t wearing ear buds. I had the phone mounted on my handlebars, the volume turned all the way up. It worked right up until the bases were loaded and I got nervous and blew right through the stop sign.

  A guy in a truck honked at me and called me an asshole. It could have been worse, he could have also been distracted, maybe also by the Mets. Who knows? It’s a big city in a big world. Maybe it was his second to last day on the job. Maybe it had been too many days since his last day on the job. Maybe his daughter was in the hospital. Maybe his daughter wasn’t talking to him. Maybe his daughter finally called him that morning after twenty-eight years. Maybe his boyfriend broke up with him. The multiplicity of possibilities boggles the mind.

  The point is, the guy could have also been distracted and blown right through the stop sign and then I really would have been in a jackpot. I still didn’t like being called an asshole, though, so I hit my brakes and turned around.

  Oh, he said, yeah?

 Yeah, I said, and rode right back at him.

  *

  You know how there’s this idea that if we put energy out into the world our desires can manifest? I believe that to be true. I’m not sure exactly how it works, I just know it works because I’ve seen it work. Rather, I’ve seen the inverse work. The energy I put out disintegrates the objects of my desire, which Buddhists say is good, I think, but I don’t know. I find it to be frustrating more than anything.

  It makes sense when you think about it. If there is a law of attraction, then there has to be a law of repulsion. No light without dark. No day without night. No hot without cold. No pleasure without pain. No sweet without salty. No joy without sorrow. No life without death. No attraction without repulsion. Imagine someone out there setting an intention for something. As the thing is moving toward them, it has to be moving away from someone else. In order for them to attract, someone else must repel. That’s physics.

  Even the great Jacob deGrom is not immune. In a game against the Rockies, he struck out nine batters in a row. Ten, as you know, is the record, held by the greatest Met of all, The Franchise, Tom Seaver. deGrom looked untouchable. He looked inevitable. I got excited. I texted my friends. The next batter got a hit.

  *

  Boy, was the guy in the truck mad. Understandably. I broke the law and put myself and others in danger, including him. He honked and yelled at me, which was freedom of expression at its finest. I stopped and turned back toward him and rode right back at him. I did that because he called me an asshole. I was wrong to blow through the stop sign, but I’m too proud to let someone call me an asshole.

  God and Ben Franklin gave that man every right to shoot me dead in the street (Freedom of Worship), but he didn’t shoot me, even though I charged at him like a wild beast.

 Instead of shooting me, he said, Oh, yeah?

 Instead of apologizing, I said, Yeah. You don’t get to call me names.

I said this because I’m a man and deserve to be treated as such, even when I fuck up. I dared to look the man in the pickup truck in the eye and demand he treat me with basic dignity. To which he responded, You’re right. I was wrong about that.

*

  Organized religion is dying but religiosity is alive and well. Prayers of Confession are all the rage.

  Everybody wants confession, everybody wants some cathartic narrative for it. The guilty especially. I’m watching True Detective, Season One.

  Look: Ellie Kemper should not have been in that Veiled Prophet debutant ball mostly because debutant balls are dumb, but raking her over the Twitter-coals until she apologized did nothing good. She was nineteen. At nineteen she was just as much a Victim of the Patriarchy as a Perpetrator of White Supremacy, but the crowd demanded atonement. Atonement for what? For being born into and participating in the life of a particular place with particular people at a particular time?

  Maybe you never had to navigate growing up with racists. Maybe you never had to navigate the complexity of loving racists. Or being loved by racists. Maybe you never had to do the emotional labor of depending on racists to drive you to the hospital. Of knowing racists are more than their racism. Knowing they are capable of great acts of love, which make them beautifully human, but makes their racism more stark, more deliberate, more sinful, awful, frustrating, heartbreaking. Of having to choose as a child, then as an adolescent, between participating or feeling completely alone. In a time and a place where there were no counselors, or the counselors were also racist. Maybe you’ve never had to parse out different subcategories of racism as you try to discern which relationships are worth it, whatever that might mean, and which are completely irredeemable, and then finding the courage to act accordingly. If you haven’t, you’re lucky. Privileged, even.

  Twitter got its confession, but neither you, nor I, nor Ellie Kemper, nor America is any less racist for it. I submit that Twitter only got its confession because Ellie Kemper was already prone to introspection, has been introspecting most of her life, and has done more introspecting than the average Twitter-activist. She didn’t change her mind, she was forced to dig up her past shit and lay it on the table to be picked over by people who only just took a seat. The new arrivals took a look at the shit and said, Boy that stinks. Then they felt better, and Ellie Kemper felt worse, and nothing else changed and that’s called progress.

  *

 My tension and adrenaline drained away. I saw his face, his particular face. He wasn’t a Man In a Pickup Truck, representative of everyman in a pickup truck; he was who he was. He had a round nose and bags under his eyes. Two or three days of stubble on his cheeks and chin. I wonder if he has grandchildren who complain about how scratchy it is? He looked scared, like a tired man who’d almost hit a careless cyclist. He didn’t to kill anyone and he was angry that I almost caused him to kill someone. I didn’t want this man to kill anyone, and I certainly didn’t want him to kill me.

  It was then that I apologized for blowing right through the stop sign. Well, I was wrong about that.

  He looked a little confused. It was a confusing situation. So, he said, we’re good then?

 I felt a little confused. Weren’t we supposed to keep yelling?

  We’re good then, I said.

  His last words to me were either, I love that, or I love you. I’m 99% sure he said, I love that, but isn’t it pretty to think that he said, I love you?

  *

Listen: it’s not that I’m anti-confession, but I’m wary and increasingly wary of proforma Prayers of Confession, especially when they are religiously proscribed by a demographic that claims to be Not Religious. (In the words of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: Ask them a question and you are told the answer is to repeat a mantra.) Public confessions do, for better or worse, what religion does, for better or worse: tell us a story, give us a sense of control, shape our experience, and help us think we’re actually doing something – Look what we did, we extracted a confession! Private confessions don’t provide narrative, characters, or catharsis. All they offer is humanity, complexity, intimacy, vulnerability, and, occasionally, transformation.

  *

  I’m working on non-attachment, and, accordingly, on non-judgment, judgement being a form of attachment to the story we tell ourselves about how things should be.

  It’s difficult. I remain attached to the story that thirteen-year-old boys should be allowed to grow up, no matter how much they fuck up when they are thirteen-years-old, therefore I judge the officer who killed Adam Toledo. I judge the adult who gave the boy a gun and showed him how to shoot. I judge the people who made the gun and all the hands that carried the gun to the boy. I judge people who love guns more than they love thirteen-year-old boys.

  *

  I ‘preciate you, I said, clipping the first syllable like I was someone I’m not. If this was fiction, I’d strike that dialogue as sounding untrue, not in character, but real life is messier, real people are inconsistent, and that’s really what I said.

  I’m not great at talking to people. I was kind of hoping to get this one job with a delivery company because it was closer to home and paid more. The interviewer asked how I’d heard of their company. I said a friend had used them to move a large machine. I should have stopped there, but there is a word-gremlin inside me that likes to blow through stop signs. I said I’d moved that machine before and boy was I glad I didn’t have to move it again. I said that to the guy interviewing me about moving machines.

  So I’m walking dogs.

 *

  What I want to do is write stories. I desire to never sit through another interview. I want my stories to be my interview and you, the reader, the one who says, You’re hired, you can start immediately, you’ll never have to move machines or walk dogs ever again.

  I hesitate to say this too loud, lest the Inverse Laws of Attraction hear me. I also say this with an acute awareness that what writing does, for better or worse, is tell a story, give me a sense of control, shape my experience, and help me think I’m actually doing something. The obligation I have, then, is to tell good stories, to the best of my ability, populated with characters full of humanity, complexity, intimacy, vulnerability, who, at their best, offer the possibility of transformation. No cartoon villains.

  Unless I’m writing a cartoon. And there are villains.

  Is it possible for me (or anyone) to privately apologize for something I say or write, but publicly defend the right – and even the necessity – of saying it? It is. Is it possible for each to be equally true? It is.

  Fully human/fully divine. Very well then, I contradict myself.

  In the meantime, the world keeps shouting. It’s really difficult to talk when people are shouting all the time, especially when they are shouting the same thing over and over again, which is, BANG BANG BANG!

 I don’t know what to do with that. It feels like I either have to shout or ignore it. Shouting makes me tired but ignoring it feels as reckless as blowing right through a stop sign. So I work on my stories and let them try to make sense of this absurd world.

  *

  Speaking of absurd, just when I thought I had this letter all buttoned up and ready to send out the door, my wife was in a car accident. Another driver blew right through a stop sign and slammed into the driver’s side of our car. My wife is okay; our car is not. The woman who hit her was not distracted by the Mets because the Mets were rained out that day. I don’t know much about her other than she was driving on a suspended license without insurance. God and Ben Franklin gave her that right (No Quarter Without Consent). Who are you or I to tell her how to live?

  Equally, my wife could have shot her right between the eyes (Redress of Grievances) and of course that would have solved everything, except my wife doesn’t carry a gun. She probably never will. Can you believe that?

  *

  The guy in the pickup truck nodded and drove away. Such things can happen, even in America, depending on the characters, and when they don’t the story seems more stark, more deliberate, more sinful, awful, frustrating, heartbreaking.

  #LFGM,

Matt Lang

   PS –While I was naming and claiming my desire to watch Jacob deGrom strike out ten batters in a row, in another part of space-time Aaron Nola struck out nine batters in a row, and he looked untouchable, he looked inevitable. Someone got excited, someone texted their friends. On June 25th Aaron Nola, pitching for the Phillies, against the Mets, in New York, struck out ten Mets in a row, tying the record held by the greatest Met of all, The Franchise, Tom Seaver. I listened to all ten while riding my bike.

  Be careful what you wish for.

[glitterysummerkitty]

Dr Bombshell & Mr Hollywood

A Jake Gyllenhaal Fan- fiction

Prologue// Chpt 1// Chpt 2// Chpt 3// Chpt 4// Chpt 5// Chpt 6

Chapter 7

        Sunday evening was by far the most phenomenal day Candice had, in terms of fun, in a very long time. As soon as the game began Candice fell completely in her zone and she had even managed to impress the hell out of everyone present. At the end of the day Dave had been a proud captain and both Jaylon and Ronnell were all praises with Ronnell even trying to bribe her into abandoning Dave and joining him for the following matches.

      Even Mabel was surprised and after the glorious victory of the Omega- 3’s, the first question Mabel had asked her was ‘Where the hell have you been? Jheez Candy! I didn’t even know you were so good at this sport.’ Candice blushed but didn’t think it important to remind her best friend that she had been the captain of her team college team and they had won several trophies. She even won several awards, which were now displayed proudly in a pristine glass shelf at Washington State University.

      At the end of the friendly match Pizza’s and beers were ordered and jokes and stories about their spouses and children were shared. Candice kept mum and tried to stay out of anyone’s focus but more often it had been futile since she was the star player of today and so everyone’s attention was on her. Especially Uma. Candice had never thought at the beginning of the evening that she would ever be comfortable with Uma but surprisingly at the end she found out how hilarious Uma really was. Basically Uma was Gemma multiplied hundred times. Candice believed she could handle Uma and her eccentric behaviour.

      After such a beautiful Sunday came Monday bringing along with it, its infamous blues. Candice groaned as she reached out and shut the alarm. She tilted her head and looked outside the window. It was still dark out there and although it wasn’t snowing anymore it was drizzling. Candice saw the little droplets of water glistening under the streetlight against the glass surface. Candice sighed. Strange fact check about Candice- she hates rain. Yes, she loves snow but hates rain. Why? Don’t ask because even she didn’t have a reason for it.

      With the comforts of her warm sheets and Mr Ruskin’s hot body pressed against her sides, Candice didn’t feel like getting up. But work was work and so she closed her eyes counted from five to one backwards and then hopped out of her bed.

      She barely got time to breathe on Mondays as she had three classes to teach and the clinic is almost always full on Mondays, filling up her schedule for early evening to late night. The first class was with master’s student and their class had been on a topic which was more challenging and close to her heart- Maternal Nutrition and it’s consequences. They had discussed and critically analysed some of the studies out there and compared the methods and their varied results. It was fun.

      But then her next class was with first year Grads and that wasn’t something she enjoyed especially considering she would have to face Zachary. After that day, when she had kicked him out her class, she hadn’t seen him and it made her slightly nervous. Also, after just having such a challenging class, to have to talk about the process of digestion wasn’t something appealed to her.

      Mentally preparing herself, Candice pushes open the door to the large hall and entered it. As she did, the rambunctious class fell to a low hush. As usual, on the very first row at the very centre the seat was occupied by one of her least favourite students Brianna. Candice had observed how the slightly obese girl with a bad case of acne and a harsh expression, never mingled with her other classmates. She always sat by herself and had minimal to no contact with her mates. Candice had also made an observation as to how Brianna seemed to have a problem with her although she would never understand why.

“Good morning class. I hope you all had a great weekend.”, she started as she scanned the class and found it devoid of Zach. She didn’t know if she should be relieved by it or not.

“We sure did!”, someone said but Candice couldn’t point out.

“How was yours Dr Averell?”, a slim, blonde seated two rows up from the front row asked in her sweet voice as she twirled a piece of hair in her finger.

“Better. Thank you Cameron.”, Candice smiled back.

“So... Today I am going to talk about the whole process of digestion, absorption and Metabolism.”, there were some groans, some exited rustling of pages showing eagerness to write down notes while some just sat straight with their nose buried in their phone screen.

“Digestion is the first crucial stage where food is broken down to smaller chemical constitutes for absorption. There are two ways this is achieved- Mechanically and chemically.”, Candice moved to the next slide on her presentation, when the door to the hall opened and in strode Zach. Instantly every girl’s, except Brianna, attention was consumed by him and Candice felt compelled to roll her eyes but she didn’t.

“Sorry I am late, Dr A. I was eating breakfast and went in deep thought about all the things I could do during the time I waste during your class and lost track of time.”, he smirked as she took to his usual seat. Immediately the class broke out into an “Ooooohh” and “Burn”. Candice gave the entire class a sharp look before finally settling her glare at the infuriating boy.

“Really?”, Candice feigned surprise, “Well from observing Mr Meyer’s performance in class for an entire year one would assume that he’s incapable of deep contemplation but I am glad to know you can.”, with that Candice turned her attention to her PowerPoint. She ignored the snickers and Zac’s stabbing glare as she went on about peristalsis.

      Candice decided to grab lunch from the ‘Four Hundred Guild’- a restaurant within the campus that served exclusively to the faculty and staff of Pruitt and Hearst University- before going to her next class. She shot Mabel a text, letting her know where she was and then decided to call Bethany to check up on her aunt. Apparently Aunty Aubrey wasn’t doing so well. Her latest cycle of chemo had left her very weak. It had Candice worried but Bethany assured her that she and a few women from the church were doing everything to help her through this. Candice end the conversation with a promise to send some more money by the weekend and also a request to fill her hospital room with some Calla Lily. “She loves them.”, Candice said.

      Over a lip smacking lemon thyme chicken, Candice narrated the whole incident over Zach to Mabel, who was flabbergasted by Zac’s audacity and also found it hard to believe that Candice had stood up against him.

“While I am very proud of you for what you have done, I am also worried. What if he decides to take action on his threat? In my opinion you shouldn’t continue to antagonise him. It’s a question of your career.”, she advised as she shoved a brussel sprout in her mouth.

“I know. It’s just he’s so infuriating.”, Candice grumbled.

        At half past three Candice left from the university. Once again she made a stop at Starbuck on her way to clinic and faced the same server as the last time. She placed her order without making much eye- contact and then sat down at the table. This time Candice had time enough to have her drink at the café.

      As she waited for her Tarragon Chicken Salad Sandwich and a tall cup of Americano she got her laptop out to check her e- mail. There lay a tiny dose of happiness waiting for her and Candice grabbed it.

  From: reader1980@fmail.com

To: lbrooks.lkb@cjg.com

Date: 19 Feb 2018, 10:00 am

 Dear Lynne,

    I have finally got time today and I am determined to spend the day reading and hopefully get to the end of your book. As I am typing this mail, on my desk lies your book, a tall mug of coffee and a lot of snacks. Believe me when I say that I am on a mission to finish this book today.

      You can expect to hear from me by tonight on my opinions on what I thought about the book. Until then I am signing out! Xoxo

                                                  Regards,

                                              An Avid Reader

        Candice grinned. She loved the reader’s enthusiasm and could only hope she felt as enthusiastic once she finishes reading the book. Candice wasn’t one to care much about what other’s opinion. She wrote ‘Love Knows no Bounds’ because it was something she believed and something that she wanted to write about. It didn’t matter if others didn’t buy what she had to sell. But for some unknown reason ‘An Avid Reader’s’ opinion mattered to her very much. She giggled silently to herself at the (xoxo) part making her wonder who the reader could be. Was it a man or a woman? Was he/ she old or young? Which part of US was this person writing from?

 From: lbrooks.lkb@cjg.com

To: reader1980@fmail.com

Date: 19 Feb 2018, 3:45 pm

 An Avid Reader,

  Your enthusiasm towards my work is encouraging. For any artist, I believe, appreciation of their work means above all and they while they can do without it, when a reader like you shows so much eagerness it really gives much pleasure. I hope you continue to show similar gusto until the end and after that too.

      I will be waiting to hear from you as well. Until then happy reading!

                                                Regards,

                                            Lynne Brooks

                                              (Author of-

                                         “Love Knows no Bound”)

        As she ate she went through some more fan sent e- mails and replied to few. She reached clinic on time and Ashley greeted her with a great news that owing to the bad weather, Mrs Laine had cancelled her appointment and so had two other patients.

“Dr Averell. Do you think I could leave early today? Actually it’s my boyfriend and I seven month anniversary.”, Ashley asked. In the three months that Ashley had been working here this was the first time she had asked for anything so Candice didn’t have the heart to say no.

“Sure. Oh and I probably think it’s a good idea because on Wednesday I need you here late. I want all the patient files organised and prepared for the next month’s audit.”, Candice informed. The red head looked happy.

      Candice saw the few patients who had braved the weather while using her free time to update her patient’s information into the software. The said task was mundane and taxing to Candice but something that she had to be done. When only one file was left on the table she opened it and the name sent both, shivers down her spine and anger through her veins. Candice marvelled at being able to experience two varied emotions belonging to different spectrum, simultaneously, at the sight of the same name.

      There is a knock on the door and Candice looked up, expecting to see Ancil walk in but it was Ashley.

“Dr Averell your seven o’ clock is here. I just wanted to ask if it’s alright if I leave?”, Ashley fidgeted with her fingers. Candice thought, amused, if she came off intimidating to Ashley.

“Of course you can leave. Thank you Ashley.”, she smiled. Ashely smiled back nervously before scrambling out the room. Candice wondered what she ever did to intimidate the poor girl.

“Good evening Dr Averell.”, that familiar baritone voice filled her room making her tremble in her seat.

“Good evening Mr Dumont. Please have a seat.”, she mumbled as she motioned for him to take a seat. It didn’t matter if Ashley found her intimidating or not but Ancil managed just fine to drain every ounce of courage she possessed.

“You look gorgeous. As always.”, he lowered his voice and by the time he said always it was merely a whisper. Candice squirmed in her seat as she felt her muscles in her stomach and everything south of it clench.

“Thank you... How are you today?”, she said a little out of breath and blushed deeply. She kept her gaze fixed on the file before her.

“Better than I have been in days.”, he replied.

“Good. How much of the plan have you been able to follow?”, she asked as she made notes on her file.

“Hhhmm...”, Ancil trailed off forcing her to look up when he didn’t say anything for a while. Candice watched mesmerized as he tapped his lean finger against his lips. His face looked like he was genuinely trying to recollect. Candice wanted those lips wrapped around her own, she wanted to run her tongue over it, she wanted to...

      Candice flushed as she found him smirking at her, apparently having caught her staring at his lips. While she knew her body had its natural cravings, she chastised herself for fantasizing about her patient right in front of him. Embarrassed she turned her attention back to the file and for the rest of the session didn’t look up until necessary.

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

Call It What You Want

A post-TFP one-shot based off of Taylor Swift’s ‘Call It What You Want.’ Molly helps Sherlock through a tough aftermath and ending with a happy request from Sherlock at the end.

Listen to the song here (x)

My castle crumbled overnight. I brought a knife to a gunfight.

               He was falling deeper into himself, unsure of who he really was. Just one night of vivisection and his entire world was turned upside down. Sherlock just kept wandering, eventually stopping somewhere. He was no longer aware of his surroundings. At least not until a soft voice was in his ear.

               “Sherlock? Are you alright? Please answer me, love, you’re scaring me.” He knew it was her; his Molly. Only she wasn’t his and he felt she never would be. It had only been a couple of days since that night at Sherrinford. Mycroft had debriefed Molly on all that had happened, but Sherlock hadn’t yet seen her. Hell, he didn’t even know how he got to her flat.

               “Molly,” his voice broke, retreating from within his mind palace.

               “Come inside,” she told him, taking his hand in hers. “I’ll make you a warm cuppa and we can talk…or not talk. Whatever you need.” He followed her inside and Molly slipped his coat and scarf off, hanging them up on her coat rack. She went to the kitchen to prepare tea for the two of them whilst he settled down on the sofa. Before he knew it, she was sitting beside him and he gingerly took the cup she offered.

               “Thank you,” he told her. It was silent for a bit and Molly ran her fingertips up and down his back, comforting him. “It’s a mess; a disaster.”

               “What is?” she asked.

               “My mind palace,” he answered. “It’s jumbled and facts are mixed with fiction. I don’t know what memories are real anymore. I don’t even know who I am.”

               “I know who you are,” Molly told him. “I’ve always known. Contrary to the façade you created, you’re the most emotional, sentimental man I know. You went through a traumatic event as a child and told yourself a better story, keeping a mask over yourself so you wouldn’t get hurt again. You can be abrasive and stubborn but you’re also very kind and loving. You love pirates and solving mysteries and science experiments. I adore your curiosity and brilliant mind. I know you don’t just solve crimes for the thrill of it. You like to help people as well.”

               “That’s how you see me?” Sherlock asked, surprised at her words. “I’m not just a tragic junkie looking for a fix by solving crimes?”

               “No, you’re so much more than that, Sherlock,” she replied. “You’ve only used drugs to cope with situations that hurt you because you always felt alone. I’m here, sitting in front of you, and I’m telling you that you have never been alone and you never will be. I am always here for you, no matter what. I will be for you what you need me to be; friend, family, pathologist.”

               “Are those the only choices?” he questioned. “You are all of those for me already, Molly.”

               “What else do you need?” she asked.

               “I need you to know that I meant it,” Sherlock told her, setting his tea aside and taking her hands in his. “I love you, Molly Hooper. I think some part of me knew that I’ve loved you for a very long time. I am truly sorry for not being brave enough to give my heart to you completely. You deserve to be loved, darling, and I hope you’ll give me another chance to be the man you need.”

               “Oh, Sherlock,” Molly spoke softly, her right hand coming up to caress his face. She smiled when he automatically leaned into her touch. “You deserve to be loved too. You’re already the man I need; the man I knew you could become. And I’m so proud of you, my love. You’ve come such a long way.” And that was when she felt his lips press against hers. His hand traveled into her hair, cradling the back of her head. Maybe, he thought, it’s all going to be okay after all.

Nobody’s heard from me for months. I’m doing better than I ever was.

               Sherlock had taken a break from solving crimes. The only people who knew how he was doing were his parents, Mycroft, John, and Molly. He hadn’t made the papers in a couple of months, nor had he gone to Lestrade for cases. Every now and then, he’d solve the miniscule things that clients would email him about, but that was all he felt he could handle.

               Though Molly had thoroughly proven that she always knew who he was, it still took him some time to figure it out for himself. Sherlock was happy to know that she was right. He realized that he was all of those things she said he was. Her words echoed in his mind from when he told her about his breakthrough two days ago.

               “See? You are a wonderful man, Sherlock. A little broken? Yes. But who isn’t?”

               “Are you broken?” he asked.

               “A little,” she answered. “But it only reminds me of how much I have endured; how strong I am.”

               He had to admit, he was doing better than ever. Sherlock decided for himself to go back to rehab, never wanting to touch another substance again, nor did he want to do anything that would cut his time short with those he loved. He and Molly would often watch Rosie, taking her out to the park and getting ice cream. His family was healing, and so was he, as they consistently visited Eurus who seemed to be making progress. Much to his chagrin, Molly had gone with them to visit, per her insistence, and that was the day Eurus began to speak again.

I’m laughing with my lover, making forts under covers. Yeah, you know I did one thing right.

               “Sherlock!!” Molly giggled, practically screeching his name. He had found all of her most ticklish spots whilst they were cuddling after an intimately tender session of lovemaking. She loved how sweet and affectionate he was with her. It was revealed to her just how much he couldn’t keep himself from kissing her. He loved it and she did too. She loved his habit of resting his head upon her breasts; not in a sexual way, but in a way that comforted both of them.

               Currently, they were beneath the covers almost as if they were in a fort and she could hardly breathe from his fingers trailing over her sides, tickling her. Molly felt him let up, realizing that she needed a break from laughing so hard, and he switched to pressing his lips to the base of her neck, slowly leaving a trail upwards. He stopped before reaching her lips and she playfully whimpered when he moved away, instead kissing her cheek.

               “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he asked her softly, his fingers brushing her hair behind her ear.

               “Remind me,” she replied.

               “Mm, I love you more than anything,” he whispered, his lips pressing to her forehead, eyelids and the tip of her nose. Molly let out a small gasp as he finally snogged her. Sherlock moaned as he tilted his head to kiss her more deeply. He felt her fingers card through his curls, the sensation making him shiver. The tip of her tongue continually pushed against his, tasting him and nuzzling her nose against his own. When their lips broke away, Molly noticed a flash of doubt cross his face.

               “What is it, darling?” she asked, caressing his cheek, her thumb stroking his cheekbone.

               “Do you ever regret choosing me?” Sherlock’s voice trembled.

               “No,” Molly answered immediately. “Never. I may have made a lot of mistakes in my life, but I know I did one thing right…choosing you. If I had the choice to do everything over, I’d still choose you every single time.” He leaned into her affectionately, holding onto her for dear life. His lips pursed at her neck firmly. It was the slowest kiss he had ever bestowed upon her. “I love you, Sherlock. I always will.”

               “Love you too, Molly,” he murmured against her skin. “It’s always been true.” Hearing her own words from the phone call echoed back to her caused a swelling of love in her heart. She gently stroked his curls until he fell into a deep sleep.

I want to wear his initial on a chain ‘round my neck, not because he owns me, but cause he really knows me.

               Molly was concentrating on the corpse in front of her as she performed the autopsy. Sherlock watched her work with fascination in his eyes. He wasn’t observing her handiwork, but rather admiring her as the woman who matters most to him. He did notice, however, a pendant that peeked out from her lab coat when she leaned over. It was an initial ‘S.’

               Of course, Sherlock found it to be strange, because normally, you were supposed to wear your initial. He easily deduced that the ‘S’ was for Sherlock. Why she bought a necklace with his initial, he did not know. It wasn’t until her lunch break that he asked. They both sat in her office taking bites of each other’s food, happily talking about the latest case he was on.

               “Molly?” he asked.

               “Hm?” she responded, a forkful of salad in her mouth.

               “Why aren’t you wearing your own initial on your necklace?” he questioned. Molly swallowed her food before answering.

               “Oh, that?” she blushed, suddenly embarrassed. “It’s just a stupid sentimental thing.” She waved him off with her hand like he had done so many times before.

               “Sentiment isn’t stupid,” he replied. Molly felt herself nearly choke at his words. “I know I used to think that way, but I was wrong.” His words left her feeling less embarrassed over his observation.

               “I don’t know, really. I guess I just wear it to have some part of you with me when you’re not around,” Molly admitted. “You’re the only person who really understands me, and well, you’re my best friend.” Sherlock’s heart ached in a good way at her words, not only because it showed just how much she loved him, but because he felt exactly the same about her. “I’m so lucky that you’re my boyfriend too.” His nose wrinkled at the term. “Or partner or companion or whatever, call it what you want.”

               “How about I call you my wife?” he asked. The fork dropped out of her hands and into the plastic container of her food.

               “Only if I can call you my husband,” she teased.

               “Well then, let’s see what Mycroft can do to help make you Mrs. Holmes as soon as possible,” Sherlock smiled. “Oh!” He dug around inside of his Belstaff pocket and pulled out an antique ring, sliding it onto her finger where it would stay for the rest of her life.

ao3

[sirenluna]

The Car (A fan fiction for the 2003 film The Room

This is my idea for Tommy Wiseau’s prank sequel to The Room. In it Johnny’s suicide was interrupted by Lisa’s little sister Francesca who has been secretly in love with Johnny for the last 5 years. Together they escape San Francisco on a cross-country road trip where they learn about real love, how to heal a broken heart, mending a shattered life and starting over.

Francesca stayed in her room for as long as possible. Her older sister Lisa, the perfect one, was bringing home another guy. Lisa and Francesca were 3 years apart and could not be more different. Lisa was 18, blond, popular and bubbly while Francesca was 15, a brunet and a loner in every sense of the word. Lisa was everything their mother wanted her girls to be; hell bent on getting married to the perfect financially stable man before her 25th birthday. Francesca was the bane of their mother’s existence. She wanted nothing to do with the institute of marriage and dreamed of being an artist. The girls also hated each other will a nuclear capability.

Hold up in her temple of solitude, Francesca listened to her favorite band on her disk man and read Anne Rice’s ‘Interview with the Vampire’ on her bed. Her peace was interrupted by her mother.

Knock, knock, knock “Francesca, it’s time for dinner darling.” Her mother Claudette’s voice was calm but there was a hint of apprehension. She knew her youngest daughter was the wild card of the family.

“I’m not hungry!” Francesca called back.

“This is not a request dearest! Your sister is bringing home her new boyfriend and I want us to eat as a family.”

“Just eat without me! Lisa would like that better anyway!”

Claudette was losing her patience so she did the one thing that always worked, “Francesca, I’m going to count to 3.”

Francesca rolled her eyes, what was she? 6? Claudette started counting.

“1,”

Not going to work. Francesca thought

“2,”

Seriously not going to work. She continued telling herself.

“3,”

Damn. She caved and opened her door. Claudette looked up and down at her youngest. “Honestly Francesca, couldn’t you at least have brushed your hair?”

Francesca looked at herself in hall the mirror just outside her bedroom door. Her waive dark brown tresses looked right on par with her favorite bands. A result from her wash and wear styling. “I did brush it, yesterday.”

“You are giving me gray hairs young lady and what about your clothes?”

The teen looked down at her attire, ripped jeans with splatters of paint and a black and white stripped crop top that fell off one shoulder and featured a giant sunflower at the center of the stripes. Her shoeless sockless toes sported the black nail polish that could also be found on her fingernails. “It was good enough to wear to school today. If you have a problem with the feet I can throw my combat boots back on.” She shrugged.

Claudette was about to protest everything that was the sight before her when the doorbell rang. “They’re here, this will just have to do.” She dismissed and turned away from Francesca. Francesca stood there and rolled her eyes. She wished her father Edward lived closer so she could move in with him and still finish her 2 years of high school. But he was in LA and she loved her school too much to transfer.

Voices traveled up the stairs to where Francesca stood.

“Johnny, this is my mom” Lisa’s annoying sweet voice made Francesca cringe.

“It’s so nice to meet you Mrs…”

“Oh, please call me Claudette!”

The guys voice sounded overly eager to meet and please their mother and Francesca could tell he was just another puppy Lisa was slowly but surely manipulating into the man she wanted him to be. It made Francesca sick. “This is going to be a long night.” Francesca said to herself as she made her was downstairs to the formal dining room.

Turning the corner to from the stairs to the dining room, Francesca suddenly froze. That can’t be the guy Lisa brough home, could it? She thought. He had long black hair that was passed his shoulders, piercing blue eyes and flawless pale skin. He looked exactly like Anne Rice’s description of the vampire Louis. He was beautiful.

Lisa, in a phony show of sisterly love ran to Francesca and hugged her. “There she is!” once Lisa was close enough Lisa whispered something in her little sister’s ear that was the exact opposite of her public display of affection, “Be nice or I’ll kill you in your sleep.” Lisa pulled away from her sister and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Johnny, this is my baby sister Francesca.”

Johnny smiled as Francesca “Oh hi Francesca! It’s so nice to meet you, your sister has told me all about you. She says you are an amazing artist. I’d love to see your work sometime.”

Francesca stared dumbfounded. The living embodiment of her literary dream man was standing in front of her and speaking to her. He held out his hand to Francesca, she numbly shook his back and he turned his attention back to Lisa.

They sat for dinner and Lisa bragged about Johnny’s new position at a prominent San Francisco bank. Francesca almost choked on her sip of water. He was a banker? He sure didn’t look like one.

“Are you alright dear?” Claudette asked Francesca.

“Yea, I’m good. So how did you get into the banking world Johnny?” She asked the beautiful man holding her sister’s hand.

“Well, I originally wanted to be a musician. But the music scene is very competitive and felt it would be better to seek a career in something more financially stable.” He answered and Francesca almost gaged. His answer may as well have come with Lisa’s hand up his ass making his mouth move like a puppet. He wasn’t a banker, he was an artist like her. But he’d gotten sucked into the world of Lisa. That manipulative, sociopathic, fembot bitch. She would destroy him and Francesca knew it.

As dinner went on Francesca became more and more hypnotized by his sweet manor and attractive accent. What could it be? She wondered. It wasn’t French, or Nordic. It could be Russian but the annunciation was off. It was absolutely Eastern European thought. Francesca’s father took her on a special European trip every summer and she had many classmates from other countries in her art school. So, she was pretty good with accents.

Johnny was clearly older than Lisa who had only turned 18 four months ago. And Francesca wondered how long they’d been dating, so she asked. “How long have you guys been together?”

Lisa faltered. “We met on my birthday when I went out with the girls for brunch.” Francesca knew her sister was lying. But knew better than to push the issue in front of their mother who would have had a cow if she knew Lisa was seeing an older man while she was still legally a child.

“It was love at first sight.” Johnny told them all and kissed Lisa’s hand.

Dinner came to an end and Lisa walked Johnny out of the house. Francesca spied on them from the window at the front door as they kissed passionately before Johnny got into his white Mercedes and drove away.

Lisa breezed through the front door on cloud 9.

“So, love at first sight only 4 months ago?” Francesca asked her sister.

Lisa rolled her eyes, her good mood totally lost at the reminder that her little sister still existed. “What’s it to you weirdo?”

“Nothing except that, that…” Francesca pointed to the door, “Looks like something that’s been brewing a lot longer than 4 months. And something tells me he has no idea you’ve only been a legal adult for less than half a year.”

“It’s none of your business. He makes me happy and he’s sexy and he does whatever I want.”

“And how long before that bores the hell out of you?”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I know mom will shit kittens if she finds out how long you’ve been playing around with a guy who could literally go to jail if he dated you 5 months ago.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I’m sorry have you met me?”

Lisa knew she was defeated. Francesca was always the smarter one and she had figured Lisa out. “We’ve been seeing each other for 2 years.”

Francesca’s brain exploded. “You’ve been seeing him since you were 16?!”

“Say it a little louder brat, I don’t think they heard you in Fresno!”

“What were you thinking?! What’s the matter with him?!”

“He didn’t know ok? I told him I was 18 at the time.”

“How old is he?” Francesca could believe this. Her sister had been illegally dating an older man for 2 years.

“He’s 32.”

“Lisa, you’ve pulled some duzies before but this… he could go to jail. And he thinks your 20.” Francesca paused then something that here sister said hit her. “Wait, he’s not the only guy you’ve brought home in the last 2 years. Does he know that?”

“Of course not, what was I supposed to do? Tell mom about my older boyfriend? Besides he’s from Europe, by their standards I’ve been legal for years.”

“And that would be great if we were in Prague, but Lisa, if you care about this guy you need to tell him the truth. You could ruin his life…” more than you’re already going to just be being in it. Francesca kept the last part to herself.

“Why do you care? What are you in love with him?” Lisa threw in her sister’s face.

Francesca froze. Was she in love with her sister’s boyfriend? He was beautiful and different and looked like the novel characters she’d always fanaticized about. She cared that Lisa could get him in trouble. She had stared at him all through dinner. She found him attractive, no doubt about it but did she fall in love with him at first sight?

“Holy shit, you like him. That’s what this is about.”

“You’re delusional” Francesca said and turned away from Lisa.

“No, no, no. You don’t get to judge my choices and walk away when you’re lusting after my boyfriend.”

“Whatever Lisa. Just, do the guy a favor and tell him the truth about how old you are. He deserves to know he could have gotten arrested at any point in time over the last 2 years.” Francesca went back to her room, locked her door and went to her easel. Taking her paint pallet, she mixed a few colors together and started a new piece called ‘Him’.  It was a night scape featuring a man with long black hair looking back at the viewer. When she finished, he realized Lisa was right. Francesca had fallen in love with Johnny, her sister’s boyfriend.

5 Years Later,

Frankie stared out the window of her first-class airplane seat. She was making her annual visit to her home town of San Francisco, California. Three years ago, she had graduated from high school a whole year early and fled the golden coast to attend college at New York City’s School of Visual Arts. She made the decision to work harder than ever during her sophomore year of high school when her sister Lisa and Lisa’s boyfriend Johnny announced they were moving in together. Frankie had fallen in love with Johnny when Lisa had brought him home to meet the family for the first time. He was Frankie’s dream come true even if she was only 15 and Johnny was 32. She never told anyone about her love for Johnny of course, even though Lisa had sniffed it out that same night. She held it over Frankie’s head for the entire time Frankie still lived in their mother’s home in Nob Hill. It was a blessing to get away from them all, even Johnny. What good was it being so close to someone you love when they loved someone else and even worse, it was someone you hated.

Every Fall however, Frankie flew home for one reason, Johnny’s birthday. Every year she would make the painful visit to the man she loved, hug him, laugh with him, listen to his funny stories, smile with his friends then go back to New York for another year. She didn’t come home for Holidays or the Summers, preferring to work through them or spend time with her father. It was only Johnny’s birthday that kept her coming back. This would be the last visit however. She had graduated a year early again and was planning to drive from San Francisco to New Orleans where a friend was helping her open her own gallery. Frankie had already purchased a car, with the help of her father, that was waiting for her in San Francisco. It was a restored 1971 GTO Judge, midnight blue with black leather interior, her dream car. Her father had made sure the car was in excellent condition and fully ready to make the long drive to Louisiana.

As the pilot announced their final descent to the Bay Area, Frankie’s stomach was in knots. She decided this would be her last visit to San Francisco because in a month Johnny and her sister would be married. That was too much for Frankie to take. She would say good bye after the party this evening and never see them again.

After they landed, Frankie took her carry-on bag and headed towards the taxi stand where her father and her new car were waiting. Upon seeing Edward Frankie smiled and jogged over throwing her arms around the aging man.

“Daddy!”

“There’s my girl! Look at you, New York is sure rubbing off on you.” He said stepping back to appreciate his daughter’s vintage black sunflower covered dress, black motorcycle jacket and worn black combat boots. “Well here she is!” He said pointing at the car.

“She’s even prettier in person. Thanks dad.”

“Well you deserve it honey, I’ll drive you to Lisa’s apartment and take a cab from there.”

“You don’t want to stop by the party?”

“And risk running into that battle axe you call mother? No thank you. I like that Johnny fellow but he’s not worth seeing her ever again.”

“Ok dad.” As they drove to Johnny and Lisa’s condo Edward shared his latest developments at work and how he was able to get Frankie the remaining funding she needed to open the gallery.

“That’s awesome daddy, thank you so much.”

“Anything for my little girl. Now are you sure you have enough to get you all the way to New Orleans?”

“I’m sure dad, I ran the numbers 3 times, that’s one more than Santa Clause.” She joked.

“Very good. Here we are.” They pulled up in front of the building and lucked out with a parking spot right in front. “You nervous?” Edward asked.

“Why would I be nervous?”

“Well I’d be nervous if I was seeing the person I love who’s about to marry my sister.” Edward gave his daughter an all knowing smile.

“What are you..?”

“Come on honey, you only fly out here for his birthday, most of your paintings are of a mysterious man with long black hair, and you’ve been obsessed with vampire novels since you were 10.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“He does look rather creature of the night-ish.”

“You’re losing it dad.”

“Whatever you say honey. Look Lisa isn’t my daughter and I’ve always hated the way she treated you so I don’t feel bad saying this. She’s totally wrong for him and he’s a good person. If they didn’t work out I wouldn’t be sad in the least.”

Frankie smiled, “Thanks daddy. I’ll call you tomorrow from the road ok?”

“You do that. I love you honey.”

“I love you too.” They hugged and parted ways. Looking up at the building Frankie decided she needed a little break before she faced them all again. Copping a squat on the front steps she opened her purse and took out a cigarette and lighter. She inhaled deeply as a familiar walking pattern came into view from down the street. If the signature swagger wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the head of hair blowing in the wind more than made up for it.

Frankie tossed her cigarette to the curb and smiled at Johnny. “Hey Johnny.”

“Oh, hi Francesca, it’s good to see you. You always make it for my birthday.”

“That I do. How are you?” He looked worn out. Like his usual carefree world had gotten hit with a harsh dose of reality recently.

“I’m good, have you spoken to your sister recently?”

“No Lisa and I never speak to each other unless we have to.”

“That’s too bad. She could use someone like you in her life. Especially lately.” Johnny’s tone was somber.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, it’s… It’s nothing. Hey you look great! New York has been good for you. Look at you, you’re a woman.” He remarked innocently.

“Oh, so you noticed.” Frankie replied flirtatiously.

Johnny just smiled. “Let go upstairs, your sister put together a surprise party for me only it’s not really a surprise. Our friends suck at keeping secrets.”

Frankie laughed. “Let’s go then.”

“Yea let’s go” He repeated. Frankie loved his circular way of talking. It was clear that English wasn’t his first language and every time he spoke it was like he was translating every word mid-thought. It was sweet and endearing.

As they entered the front door everyone yelled surprise and started singing Happy Birthday. Johnny thanked everyone and held up Frankie’s hand, “Look who I found outside.”

“Oh, Francesca dear, I’m so glad to see you.” Claudette greeted her youngest child.

“Oh, hi mom.” Frankie greet back kissing her mom on the cheek. Then she saw her sister. “Great party Lisa.” Frankie congratulated her sister.

“Thanks sis, it’s always nice to see you on Johnny’s birthday.” Lisa replied condescendingly.

“Well if I’m going to spend $500 on a plane ticket it may as well be to see someone I like.” Frankie was used to the banter she and her older sister got into every time they saw each other. It was the second reason she stayed as far away from Lisa as possible.

Everyone started having their own conversations in different parts of the spacious living room until Lisa announce they should all out outside and get some air. Everyone listened of course and they all left the apartment. Outside Frankie noticed, all the guests were there outside except Lisa and Johnny’s friend Mark. Frankie never liked Mark. He had this air about him like a sleaze ball and she never trusted him. Then they appeared a little while later with Lisa looking flushed. Something was bad happening Frankie could feel it.

Then Johnny dropped the ultimate bomb. “Hey everybody, I have an announcement to make. We are expecting!” All the party guests erupted in applause and congratulations. Frankie felt like she’d been punched in the gut. They were having a baby? How could this happen?

She needed a drink. Holding a fake smile on her face she rushed towards the apartment, hell bent on getting another serving or 12 of champagne. As she approached, she overheard Lisa talking with 2 of her friends.

“…You’ve got to be honest with Johnny.”

“I agree with that”

“Look I’m going to tell him. I just, I don’t want to ruin his birthday.” Frankie knew Lisa’s voice when she was lying and that was it. What wasn’t she telling Johnny?

“When is the baby due?”

“There is no baby.”

“What?!” Her friends asked un unison. Frankie felt 2 things at once. One being relief that the man she had pinned over for 5 years was not having a baby with her nemesis, the second being horror at her sister’s colossal lie. Lisa’s next words only proved to deepen that horror.

Lisa and her friends had sat down at that point and Lisa divulged more of the story. “I told him that to make it interesting. We’re probably going to have a baby eventually anyway. You’re not going to tell Johnny, are you?”

Frankie couldn’t listen to anymore. she bolted into the apartment, found an unopened bottle of champagne, popped it open and started to chug. That fucking bitch! How could she do that to Johnny? He was the sweetest guy in the world! He didn’t deserve what Lisa was doing to him just to make things more interesting. Lisa had always been a self-serving brat but this was downright evil.  Torn between Telling Johnny what she had just heard and keeping out of it, Frankie polished off the rest of the bottle.

Everyone came back inside and Frankie decided she had to tell Johnny the truth about her sister. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to him. “Johnny, I need to talk to you.”

“What’s up Francesca?”

“Look there’s no easy way to say this…” Frankie was cut off by Lisa slapping Mark in the face. Johnny intervened asking what was going on and he and Mark got into a scuffle. Some of Marks words made Frankie wonder just how naughty her sister had really been. Maybe the baby lie was only a minor detail in the whole story. The men calmed down and Johnny reassured everyone.

“Alright, alright. Ok folks everything is fine. The fight is over. I’m sorry Mark.” He held his hand out to Mark in peace.

Mark hesitantly took Johnny’s hand “Yea, yea me too.” They shook hands and Johnny asked Lisa to clean up the little mess they had made. Then he disappeared. It was an hour before anyone saw Johnny again and over that hour Frankie saw Lisa getting cozier and cozier with Mark. What was wrong with her?  Mark was a douche bag and it was Johnny’s party. A party she had thrown. None of this made sense. At one point, they were dancing and it looked like they were about to screw in the middle of the room in front of everyone. That was when Johnny reappeared and all hell broke loose.

He grabbed Lisa’s shoulder and asked her, “What are you doing?”

In her usual callus tone, she answered Johnny “None of your business.”

Johnny pressed her further, “You’re my future wife, what are you doing Lisa?”

Mark piped in, “Just leave her alone man, she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Johnny was furious. “Since when do you give me orders?”

“Since Lisa changed her mind about you. Wake up man, what planet are you on?”

Johnny’s eyes drifted away before calmly telling Mark that he should leave. Lisa tried to smooth things over by telling Johnny not to spoil the party. Mark responded by telling Johnny not to worry.

Johnny shrugged out of Marks touch “Don’t touch me mother fucker. Get out.” They got into another scuffle that Lisa tried to break up, announcing that they were acting like children.

Mark shouted something that had the whole party holding their breaths. “If you could keep your girl satisfied she wouldn’t come to me!”

So that was the big truth Frankie sensed was being held back. They shoved at each other some more when Johnny declared to the party that everyone had betrayed him and ended it with something that struck fear into Frankie’s heart.

“…I’m fed-up with this world!” he went upstairs and didn’t come back down.

Frankie went to Lisa, “What the hell was that?”

“None of your goddamned business.”

“You’re kidding me, right? You cheated on Johnny with Mark and pretended to be pregnant? What the hell is the matter with you?”

“How did you know…?”

“I heard you talking to your friends.”

Claudette interposed herself on her daughters budding fight. “Now girls, this is not the time or the place. Lisa has made some mistakes but this is her relationship Francesca.”

Frankie was stunned, “You knew?”

Claudette looked almost insulted, “Well of course I knew, Lisa confides in me unlike you. Off doing god knows what in New York with god knows whom. You are your father through and through.”

Frankie wanted to cry but wouldn’t give her mother or sister the satisfaction. “You two deserve each other.” She turned to Denny, “Hey Denny, can I crash on your couch tonight? I start my road trip tomorrow and I’ll be out before you even wake up.”

Denny was still recovering from all the drama but he agreed, “Sure, let’s go, I’ll set up the pull out now.” He wanted to get out of there almost as much as Frankie did. Down in Denny’s apartment which was right below Johnny and Lisa’s, he and Frankie sat in silence for a while.

“Can you believe all that?” Denny asked.

Frankie took a drag from her cigarette. “I hate to say it but I kinda can. Lisa’s always been evil. Even when we were kids.”

“But Johnny loves her, how can she do that to him?”

Frankie wasn’t sure if she should reveal what she wanted to tell Denny but, what difference would it make now? “Denny, do you know how old Lisa is?”

“25, Johnny threw her a huge party a few months ago.”

Frankie laughed and shook her head. “She’s 23. When Johnny first met her, she was only 16. She lied about her age so she could date him. I figured it out the night she first brought him home to meet our mother. I had tried to get her to tell him the truth but I guess she never got around to it. Looks like she’s gotten even better at lying over the last 5 years.”

Denny was stunned. “23? That’s crazy. Johnny could have gotten in real trouble.”

“Yea I know. Look I have to get a really early head start tomorrow, do you mind if I go to sleep now?”

Denny nodded, “Yea, no problem. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Denny,” Frankie tossed and turned but couldn’t find the peace required to fall asleep. She wondered what was happening in the apartment above her head. She longed to go to Johnny and sooth him. Be a shoulder for him to cry on. But her sense of rationality made her stay put.

Ruckus erupted from upstairs. The distinct sounds of things being thrown around and broken permeated the thin walls of Denny’s place. Frankie sat up on the pullout and looked up trying to map what was going on. Then the loudest noise so far hit her from outside the windows to the front of the building. She ran to them and opened one wide. A TV lay smashed on the sidewalk.

Fear and adrenalin sent Frankie sprinting up the stairs to Johnny’s front door. It was unlocked so she pushed it open and peered in. “Johnny?” She called his name gently. There was no answer but she heard groaning from up in the bedroom. She slowly walked up to the spiral staircase and heard Johnny ask in agony, why this was happening to him.

Frankie’s heard thumped harder as she started climbing the narrow steps. The she heard his voice again,

“God, forgive me.”

Frankie saw him them with a gun in his hand that was about to enter his mouth.

“Johnny no!” She shouted, running at him and knocking the gun out of his hand. It fired a shot in the direction of the wall behind where Johnny stood on his knees.

“What are you doing?!” Frankie shouted. She dropped to her knees and grabbed his face.

“I want to die!” He shouted back and collapsed into Frankie’s hands. He sobbed and hollered like a wounded animal. Frankie sobbed with him rubbing his back in an attempt to sooth him. Johnny clung to her.

“It’s ok, It’s ok Johnny. I’m not going to let her hurt you again.”

The two culprits ran into the room after hearing the gun shot. “What happened?!” Lisa shouted.

Frankie turned her Lisa with the heat of a thousand suns in her eyes. “He tried to kill himself.”

“What?” Lisa was stunned. Mark just looked on with an equally stupefied expression on his face.

Frankie got up and turned to her sister with the gun in her hand. “Are you deaf as well as stupid? He tried to kill himself! Because of you, you fucking soul sucking cunt!”

“This wasn’t my fault.” Lisa said more to herself than anyone else. Frankie replied by slapping Lisa across the face. “I’m not mom Lisa, your stupid tricks don’t work on me.” She shoved the gun into Lisa’s hands. “Take this and get out of here.”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“I don’t give a shit! Do humanity a favor and use it on yourself!”

Lisa look like she was about to protest when Mark put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on Lisa, let’s get out of here.”

They left looking every bit like the guilty party they were. Frankie went back to Johnny. His tears had stopped falling and he had retreated into a catatonic state. Frankie dropped to eye level with him begging for a sign that he was still with her. “What can I do Johnny? Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

He closed his eyes, “Get me out of here, please. I can’t be here anymore.”

Frankie nodded, “Ok, ok.”

Denny bursed into the room “I heard a gunshot, what happened?!”

“I’ll tell you later, just help me get him up.” Together Denny and Frankie brought Johnny down to her car and loaded him into the passenger seat.

“Now will you tell me what happened?” Denny was desperate.

“Johnny tried to kill himself. I walked in on him just in time.”

Denny stood frozen. “Where are you taking him?”

“He asked me to get him out of here so that’s what I’m doing.”

“I’m coming with you.” Denny made a dash for the back seat but Frankie stopped him.

“Denny, you have school. I can take care of him and we’ll call you. When he’s ready to come back he will. But right now, he needs to get away from all of this.”

Denny looked scared for the man he thought of as his surrogate father. “Promise me you’ll call me.”

“I promise.” They hugged and Frankie got into the car. She started up the engine and turned to Johnny. “Any idea where you’d like to go?”

“I don’t care. Just drive.”

Frankie nodded and started down the street heading for the interstate.

[riodelmartamin-blog]

My Boyfriend is Arcane

He has all the qualities a girl can ask for. He is handsome, sweet, loving, and intelligent. He’s good in everything. He has a nice body and strong. Do you know who he is? He’s my boyfriend. His name is James Evil. Yeah, I’m so confused at first about his surname because it’s very unusual and he’s the opposite of it. We’ve been lovers since high school. I’m just a simple girl and I love studying. My name is Ingrid Shy. Yes, you read it right. I also have the unusual surname. Haha. Anyway, we are now graduating in college. He is studying at Amazing Academy while I’m in Great University.

He’s always busy during night so we are only dating every morning to afternoon. When 5:00 strikes, he has to be at home. Weird. He’s a guy yet he has a curfew. I haven’t seen his parents because he said that they have a business in other places. He didn’t tell me the specific place. But it’s okay. He said he will introduce me to his family soon. He is just waiting for the right time. I can’t wait for that day.

Anyway, right now, I’m waiting for him to fetch me up because it’s class dismissal. He said that he will come 4:30 pm, yet it’s 4:50 pm. Is he still coming? It will be 5:00 pm soon. “Ingrid, do you want to come with us? We’re going to the carnival. Let’s have some fun!” Jessica invited me but I refused. I wanna rest so badly. Time check, it’s already 4:59 pm. New text message received. Oh, it’s from James. “Sorry Ingrid, I can’t make it. I’ll just be with you tomorrow.” As usual. I walked alone but I’m not sad. I’m not like other girls out there who is very mad if they are not fetched by their boyfriends. Did I mentioned that I’m a very considerate person? I just don’t like to be mad at simple things. I’m a positive person.

“I’m home, mom!” I greeted my mom as I am entering our house. “I thought James is with you? I cooked dinner.” Mom said, confused. I sighed deeply and said “He can’t make it. Besides, it’s already late Mom.” She just shrugged. “You know, your boyfriend is just so weird. Curfew? Really?” Mom said and she laughed, teasing me. My mom is my best friend. I really love this woman. Enough for this, I’m already tired. I wanna sleep. Thank God it’s Friday. Zzz.

“Ingrid, wake up! James is waiting outside!” Ugh. It’s so noisy. I still want to sleep. Someone is tickling me. “Stop it!” Who is this? Ugh. I’m annoyed. “My dear, James said you have a date today!” I was surprised. I jumped out of my bed quickly. DATE? Wait, I wasn’t informed. “HAHAHA!” Who’s laughing? I looked at my bed and Mom is sitting there. “Hurry up. Your boyfriend is too handsome. Fix your face.” Mom said as she left the room.

After several minutes, I went outside and I saw James smiling sweetly in front of me. He gave me roses. I accepted it shyly, haha. “Let’s go?” I looked outside but he didn’t bring his car. “ Please close your eyes.” I followed him. I closed my eyes. I felt that he put a handkerchief and secure it so that I may not see.

What kind of place is this? There are…creepy creatures. I don’t know exactly what they are called. And where is James? I looked around and I saw him walking towards me. “Where are we?” Those creepy creatures are still looking at me. “Don’t worry, they are harmless. This is my home. They are my family, Ingrid. This is the forest kingdom. I grew up here. Those creatures are called Goons. This place seems magical. “My James, where are you?” I was taken aback when I heard a powerful voice. I turned back and I saw…”The Mistress of all Evil!” Am I dreaming? This isn’t true. She’s just a fictional character. “ Mother, we’re here. This is Ingrid.” James introduced me to her mother. Mother? “Oh Darling, it’s good to see you, finally.” She’s caressing my face. “I’m Ma-“ I joined her in saying her name to be sure. “Leficent” But why is she nice? She’s known to be ruthless and evil! Oh, darling, I’ve changed. Don’t worry, I know I’m famous in your world to be a bad woman but here I’m the new Maleficent and I love it!” She said while laughing. This is just so cool! So it is true. Lucky me! “Oh well, let’s eat.”

Their foods is unusual. I haven’t tasted these before. But they are so delicious. “Just eat, Ingrid. Don’t be shy.” Maleficent said to me while she was watching us eating. Someone entered the room. Diablo? The Raven? “Oh, you’re always late Diablo. Come faster. We have a visitor.” I’ve seen this raven in tv before. And now I’ve got to see them personally. “Sorry, it’s just so hard to find nice woods, you know.” Maleficent and James just laughed. I can’t relate. Oh well. James and I explore the forbidden mountain. The place is full of sparkles. The goons have magic. James also has power. He used his power to make me a wonderful black dress. “Are you ready?” Ready for what? He carried me like a newly-wed couple. I guess, I’m blushing. But then as he is walking, I smell smoke. We are heading to a big pot and Diablo is putting up fire to the woods. What is happening? “James, what is this? Let me go!” I’m so afraid. James seems as if he doesn’t hear anything. I tried to move away but he’s just so strong. He put me inside the pot. I cried in anger. Why? What are they planning to do? “Help! Help!” James revealed his real appearance. He’s a monster! “Is the meal ready?” Maleficent entered and she’s laughing. “Poor Ingrid! Think I’ve changed? NEVER!” She laughed and laughed. The evil laugh. “I’m so proud of my son. Thanks for your loyalty and obedience. Now, I can be stronger because I will eat a virgin!” Again, she laughed. It’s very hot in here. I cried for help but they are just staring at me waiting for me to be cooked, for sure. I still cried for help. I looked at James but he just snubbed me. He betrayed me. I thought he’s nice. But then again, they are people who will just use you, so you must be very careful. My body is getting weak because of the heat and boiling water. I guess…this is the end.

[tailsbeth-writes]

Always the Sidekick - Prose

I wrote this piece for a genre fiction class at university, it’s a romantic short story. It’s one of the few stories I’m actually quite happy with and might even consider continuing.

Word Count: 2609.

The park had well and truly taken autumn in. Across the wet grass, lay leaves in shades of brown and yellow. The smell of pumpkin spice lattes was in the air, it really was the best time of year. Today my wellington boots had been taken on their first outing; their traditional green didn’t particularly coordinate with my red rain mac. However, I could not care less as my appearance was not my speciality. With my mousy brown hair complete with blunt fringe to my milk bottle glasses, I was not what you’d call typically attractive. I was content with my lot though, as long as I could get to my favourite bench with a notebook and pen, I was happy.

It was the best spot for people watching, it was right in the middle of the park. To your left was a large pond where children would attempt to feed swans and nearly kill them and to your right were the multi-courts where men would make fools of themselves on a daily basis in an attempt to woo the opposite sex, usually with dire results. I sat there for my lunch hour and marvelled at the awesomeness of humanity before my best friend Jenny arrived. I love her to pieces but thanks to her gorgeous good looks, my favourite bench became the viewpoint of frenzy for the sporting lads. She walked up in high heeled boots, a black tulip skirt which extenuated her curves precisely and a white chiffon blouse that didn’t leave much to the imagination. The cherry on top of it all was her blonde wavy hair which bounced lightly with every step.

‘April darling, how are we today?’ I loved the way Jenny spoke, so silly yet sophisticated.

‘I’m pretty excellent, how are you?’

‘So tired, rushed off my feet as usual. Glad to get a break.’

‘I just don’t know how you manage it, I wouldn’t dream of such a busy job.’

‘Well, April my dear, not all of us are content with spending our days in a library.’ Despite Jenny and I being the same age, she’s always spoke down to me a little. I never cared what she said about my job though, I loved it. Her job sounded like an absolute nightmare to me, she worked at a law firm which meant she was always busy and always had to look her best. ‘It’s all about reputation’ Jenny told me time and time again. Whereas at my work, I spent hours sorting out books full of magic and romance, I wore whatever I pleased and I got a full hour for lunch. With those stats, I’d never see the appeal of Jenny’s job.

‘What’s for lunch today then?’ Jenny enquired as usual, looking for the plastic lunchbox.

‘Roast chicken sandwich, last night’s leftovers.’ I handed it over to a starved Jenny.

‘Oh you treat me so well April!’ She declared before she took a huge bite out of the sandwich. From the size of her waist, you’d never guess Jenny had a massive appetite.

‘Are we still doing dinner tomorrow night?’ She asked between bites. Fridays were probably my favourite day. I had a half day at work, I’d pick up sushi as a treat on the way home and then I’d settle down to a good book or a Netflix marathon for the afternoon. The nights were usually planned by Jenny, with her job she managed to blag us theatre ticket most weeks. However, this dinner wasn’t one of our usual Friday nights. It was a set-up, a casual reminder that I was still single and apparently needed to find a boyfriend.

‘Was that tomorrow night? I forgot about that. I might actually be working.’

‘You’re kidding me right? Remember tick tock, you’re not getting any younger pumpkin.’

‘Thanks for that gentle reminder Jen, you aren’t ei-‘

‘April Louise Hollander, you are going to eat dinner with me and some lovely male company whether you like it or not! Trust me; I’m doing it for your own good. Also it’s a work thing, you’d be the bestest for coming.’ I knew there would be some form of blackmail; I was always the sidekick to her little plans.

‘As I’ve told you time and time ag-‘

‘April, just be there.’ She interrupts again. I’ve not paid much attention but she’s finished her sandwich and brushed off the crumbs. I didn’t even bother trying to reply this time.

‘I better get back to the office; they’ll be lost without me. Remember 7 o’clock tomorrow at that fancy Italian place, wear something nice. Ciao darling!’ And with that she marched off on her heels, already screaming orders down the phone.  I had been looking forward to Friday, I was going to marathon Breaking Bad. Now I’d spend the afternoon trolling my wardrobe. Help.

Friday mornings at the library were always fun. A couple of classes from the local primary school would come in and if there wasn’t much work to do I got to help out with the kids. They reminded me of myself at that age, always raring to start a new book. I brought out a table full of new books and they cheered as they scrambled to find the best choice. Their adorable little smiles were enough to make my day. On the other hand, on my bus home I saw a bunch of students glued to their phones and tablets. I understood you could read books on those too but the majority of them were playing addictive games or swiping through possible mates like baboons. What happens to us as we grow up? Does the world of fiction lose its appeal to jabbing away at a piece of plastic and metal? I got off my usual stop and walked a few metres down the road to pick up my Japanese feast of sushi and bubble tea.

My flat was in the building next door, on the third floor. It was small and cosy, ideal for me and my pet fish Oscar, named after Mr Wilde of course. Normally I’d have got straight into my pyjamas, unluckily I had to choose a suitable outfit for Jenny’s high standards. Queue a clichéd montage of chucking clothes around my bedroom. Fashion was never my thing; I was about comfort and practicality not designer labels. I reckoned simple and elegant-ish was my best bet. As I turned to the mirror, I imagined an eagle-eyed Jenny staring back at me.

‘Are you really going to wear that tonight? Why do you even own that?’

‘I don’t actually care Jenny.’

‘Well you obviously care my dear; otherwise you wouldn’t be imagining me in your mirror now, would you?’ I let a little frustrated scream out. Imaginary or not, Jenny did have a point though. I did care. I’ve seen the looks of disgust that Jenny’s colleagues give me when I turn up to a champagne party in my doc martens and no make-up. This time it was almost like a date, she’d mentioned male company. I hadn’t had a boyfriend since university, three years ago. I genuinely did want to try, while I had Hermione’s smarts, I unfortunately didn’t have Emma Watson’s good looks. Tonight was going to be different; I ran out to Primark and bought a little black dress. I braved my contact lenses and risked burning my hair with my straighteners. Make-up wasn’t my best friend, but I tried my hardest to not make it look like war paint. I, of course, made a few April-esque touches, a deathly hallows necklace and forest green brogues. It might have just been a dinner date but as I gazed in the mirror, I could have been ready for a ball.

I definitely preferred London at night time. The twinkling street lights bounced off the reflective skyscrapers that melted into the indigo sky. My taxi driver wasn’t very chatty which I was thankful for tonight. My mind was too busy buzzing with expectations to talk about the weather.  Jenny would giggle like a school girl over her carbonara at the dashing gentleman opposite her. Meanwhile I’d be enthralled in conversation with a boyishly handsome chap who happens to have a passion for Doctor Who. As I dissolved into my day dreams, I barely noticed the taxi screeching to a halt. Jenny practically pounced on me as I stumbled out the cab into the nippy air.

‘April, my darling, you’re a new woman! Where’s the milk bottles? And are you wearing make-up? I love, love, love it!’ She was grinning from ear to ear at my apparent transformation.

‘Aw, you’re very sweet.’ I felt my cheeks redden as she spoke.

‘I wish you dressed like this more often, speaking of which, where is this delight of a dress from? I never knew you owned such a thing.’

‘Primark, only a tenner actually!’ Jenny’s face dropped in repulsion, the idea of being seen dead in anything less than £50 freaked her out. Her grin returned as she took in my whole look once more.

‘Not my usual taste, but you work it.’

‘You sure I look alright? I’m way out my comfort zone here.’

‘Of course you look alright, more than alright! Do you not think you look fab?’ I had to agree with Jenny. I’d gone through my Cinderella transformation from drab to fab except my fairy godmother came in the form of Primark and YouTube tutorials. I gave her a courageous smile.

‘God damn it, I do look fab Jenny.’

‘Great, glad we can agree on that. The boys said they’re going to be a tad late unfortunately so we’ve just to head inside.’

‘Okay, after you.’ I followed Jenny’s lead. After all the commotion of my new look, I hadn’t taken in Jenny’s outfit for the night. Her hair sat in a subtle up do and a creamy fur shawl sprawled over her shoulders. Her dress was a figure hugging scarlet number, which finished just after the knees and her shoes were a classic pair of black heels. As usual, Jenny looked like an absolute bombshell. I felt rather lucky to be friends with someone so glamourous.

As soon as the restaurant door opened we caught the smell of the incredible menu. Chatter surrounded every table. The place was packed. It was a Friday night in London after all. Everything appeared to be draped in white; the tables, chairs and even the walls. Spaghetti Bolognese was off the menu for me then. We got seated straight away as we had reservations. Jenny briefed me on tonight’s mission; we had to show the representative from this company a good time essentially. He was bringing along an intern which is where I came in, I was the distraction while Jenny spoke business. Whilst this was technically work for Jenny, we agreed we were going to have a good time ourselves. Therefore the first order of the night was cocktails. Our waitress brought over two martinis and we clinked our glasses together.

‘Do you feel like you’re in Sex and the City right now?’ Jenny giggled.

‘You took the words right out my mouth.’

‘I think we could give Carrie and the girls a run for their money frankly.’ We chuckled as sophisticatedly as we could. A joint this fancy didn’t feel like it welcomed belly laughs.

‘Excuse me ladies, I do believe you’ve been waiting for us.’ We looked up from our drinks to see our delicious male company had arrived. Jenny got up to shake their hands.

‘You must be Michael? So nice to finally meet you. This is my friend April.’ Michael stretched a freshly tanned hand over to me, his chocolate coloured eyes slithering into mine. Behind him stood a tall redhead who smiled delicately at us.

‘Nice to meet you girls, this is Eric.’ Eric tottered over and shook our hands. His hands were slightly clammy, nerves were tugging at him.

‘Great to meet you both.’ I drank in his polite expression, it was very welcoming. We all took our seats, Eric sat to my left. His navy cord blazer grazed my skin as it fell on his chair.

‘What are we drinking ladies?’ Michael enquired. Every word was like silky caramel; Jenny stuck to every syllable while it was far too sickly for me.

‘Martinis, we can move onto a bottle of wine if you’d prefer.’ Jenny had to vaguely remind herself this was a professional dinner. Michael had other plans.

‘Of course no, martinis it is! Waiter!’ He glanced around and waved his hand in the air, Eric stared at his lap. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt. A baffled waitress finally came over.

‘Six martinis please!’ Michael demanded.

‘Why six?’ Eric innocently asked.

‘We’ve got catching up to do! It’s Friday night after all!’

‘Christopher Eccleston’s your favourite doctor? Really?’

‘Yup!’

‘Wow, very controversial.’ I sipped my third martini, never losing grip with Eric’s bubblegum blue eyes. They made my insides feel cosy. That could have also been the alcohol. Jenny had gone to sit at the bar with Michael to have shop talk. Her legs stretched in front of the bar stool to keep Michael at a safe distance. She’d got over his caramel tones and was getting to work.

‘So how long have you known Jenny? I wouldn’t say you’re typically matched.’ I rolled my eyes at the world’s most frequently asked question.

‘Most people think the same. We’ve been inseparable since primary school, she shared her dolls with me when nobody else would. I don’t think she quite realised what she’d got into. We’ve been through semesters abroad with nothing but letters to each other and we’re still going. I know she comes across as ridiculous most of the time but that’s part of the magic of Jenny. It’s just kind of amazing that over ten years later, we still meet at a park bench every day for lunch and it’s not boring yet. God, sorry, I’m babbling now!’

‘Nah, don’t worry about it. I think you two are sweet. A bit mad but sweet.’ I looked down at my drink, my cheeks felt rosy. Sensing my awkwardness, he changed subject.

‘Do you have a favourite park bench in mind? I’m a bit of a people watching enthusiast myself.’ My mouth may have gawped open a little. It was like someone had taken my day dreams and moulded them into my perfect man.

‘Seriously? People watching is my favourite thing ever. You know Waverly Park, how the path cuts right through the middle? The bench right next to the pond and multi-courts.’

‘I don’t think I’ve been there, I’ll need to check it out sometime. If you’d let me of course.’

‘Suppose, but I’ll have to share between the hours of 12 and 1 on weekdays.’

‘Those terms are fair enough.’ His endearing gaze turned me to jelly. His movements were careful, his long fingers ever so slightly rubbed up against mine on the table. He picked up my pendant and edged a smile.

‘Harry Potter fan?’

‘Yeah. I must seem like a massive geek with this thing on.’ I mustered hesitantly.

‘Oh really?’ He smirked and got something out of his coat pocket, a wallet with the Hogwarts crest on it. I let out a slight gasp. Eric laughed lightly at my shock. He placed the tattered wallet back in his coat.

‘Massive geeks should stick together, well I think so anyway.’ He declared. Before I even realised, the space between us was gone as he kissed me gently.

‘I could not agree more.’