#i think i was doodling this while i was on a whitney high but yeah

[hakusins]

cw // none

eri (pc) had twins a few days ago and i just became attached to them HBRFBHJERBF. so heres nicky and leila!

bonus doodles when they're older!!

[cjsinkythoughts]

Erased From the Stars: Chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4254

Series Warnings: Toxic Relationships, Cheating, Physical Abuse, Underage Drinking, Drug Use (marijuana), Motor Vehicle Accident, Cursing

Chapter Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Sex, Cocky Bucky, Nervous Bucky, Bucky Bucky

A/N: I actually have ideas for this story, so I’m cranking it out! I definitely wasn’t expecting to post today, but here we are! This chapter has a lot of dialogue and some of Reader’s thoughts, but not much action, yet. We’re kind of still getting in the roll of things, it still being the first week of college and all that. We do get to meet Bucky, though! Next chapter we’ll meet mostly everyone else, and there will be more things happening other than classes and work. I kinda feel like I’m rushing these first few chapters, so I’m sorry about that, but it’s mostly introductions and setting up the story and I’m the type of person who likes writing the climax and only the climax. So this is steady growth for me.

I do want to point out the series warnings, just in case! I don’t want anyone feeling uncomfortable or being triggered while reading this so please take those seriously as it will happen later on in the story! Thank you!

Once again, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading and please enjoy!

Erased From the Stars Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts’ Masterlist

You woke up in a much better mood on Tuesday, having gotten more sleep than the previous night, especially considering how tired you were when you got home past midnight from working at Shield. You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow.

You took your time getting ready and eating breakfast, saying bye to Christine and the kids, leaving first that time since your Public Speaking class started before Kayla’s preschool did.

Which you were late to.

Of course as soon as you let your guard down, thinking you’d be fine since your first day was fine, you weren’t fine. 

Fortunately, you were only a few minutes late and didn’t miss anything, since today would be another day of going over rules and course requirements for the two new classes you had.

Public Speaking was the worst. You’re older - and only - sister, Kimberly, convinced you to take the class after saying it was one of her favorites. Of course, you forgot that you and Kim were very different people. For starting at 9:05, it was too early of a class, especially when the whole point was, you know, public speaking. You hadn’t done anything yet, but one glance at the plans your professor had for the semester and you were dreading it already.

Your next class was a US History lecture, which started fifteen minutes after Public Speaking. You were again late because you severely underestimated how far the buildings were and your professor let you out a bit later than you anticipated.

You practically threw all your stuff into your bag the moment he dismissed you and sprinted out.

Arriving, you tried slipping in as silently as possible, but the door slammed shut, rather loudly, making you cringe. You felt yourself heat up as several pairs of eyes snapped towards you, but luckily the professor, Coulson you remembered, was just gathering papers and hadn’t started yet. Ignoring your peers - none of whom you knew and you weren’t sure if that made it worse or not - you shuffled over to the nearest empty seat a few rows down and to the right. You were surprised and extremely grateful to find it was an aisle seat.

Pulling out your laptop, you huffed when it wouldn’t turn on. You hadn’t used it in your previous class, meaning it was dead before, but you could’ve sworn you plugged it in last night. Whatever. You were fine with pen and paper.

“Aw shit.” You resisted the urge to smack your head on the table as you dug through your bag. Seriously?! You forgot to pack a pen?! That couldn’t have been your only pen, right?!

This is why you were anxious. Next morning, you swore you’d get up early and triple check to make sure you had everything.

You quietly threw your bag to the ground and slumped in your seat, your arms crossed. That meant you couldn’t even doodle! You had to sit there for over an  hour and listen to this guy talk about another syllabus. Joy.

Suddenly, something hit you in the back of your head. You rubbed where it hit and looked down at your feet, eyebrows knitting together at the scrunched up ball of paper sitting there. “Psst.” Another hit to the head made you whip around, glaring at the culprit.

“What?” You hissed before faltering. Damn. Now that was one hell of a specimen.

Steel blue eyes crinkled at the corner as pink lips pulled up into an entertained grin, pearly whites on display. Sharp jawline covered with light scruff. Fluffy chestnut hair styled with the perfect amount of gel fell a little past his ears, with a single pesky strand falling in his eyes. The white shirt he was wearing was loose with a low collar, a leather jacket thrown over it. You could see the combat boots from underneath the table. He was a pretty boy, yeah, but you hung out with (*cough cough* dated) enough guys dressed like him in high school to know his game.

“Need a pen?” He offered in a whisper, holding up the said object.

“Uhm…yes?”

He smirked, leaning forwards in his chair, closer to you. “I’ll let you have it on one condition.” You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Just a name, babygirl. Yours, specifically.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing around the room to see if you were disturbing anybody. Not seeing anyone paying attention to you two, you turned back to him. “Y/N.”

“Bucky.” He introduced himself, reaching over to shake your hand. You took it, a bit hesitant, blinking when you felt something fall into your palm once he pulled back. The pen.

“I, uh, thanks.”

He winked at you, leaning back in his chair, hands linked behind his head. “No problem, doll.”

You turned back to the lecture, holding in your scoff at his pet name, hating the fact that it nearly made you smile. He was definitely a fuckboy and you told yourself before college that you wouldn’t play around with them anymore.

So you tuned him out of your mind for the rest of the lecture and, thank God, you had to rush out of class once it ended because you had to work in half an hour, not even letting the blue eyed pretty boy say a word in your direction.

You worked for the rest of the day, Russo’s for lunch, a few hours break to look over school stuff and have dinner with your family, before Shield from 9 to 1. It was fine. Long, but nothing you weren’t used to already. You really enjoyed both your jobs and you got lucky with your bosses. 

Joe and Anthony were brothers who took over Russo’s for their parents. The pizzeria had been in their family for generations, and they gladly took on the tradition. They had kids of their own and dealt with their school, so they were very understanding - almost parental - to you.

Phillips had started Shield after retiring from the Army, wanting to settle down with a place to drink, smoke, and play poker with his buddies. He was stern, but that was to be expected. He always told you, “you can take the man out of the Army, but you can’t take the Army out of the man.” Despite him being strict, though, he was reasonable, and had taken a liken to you since the moment you stepped foot in the bar.

And not only did you like your jobs, the money wasn’t too bad either.

But, despite that, you were still human, and having two back-to-back college classes and then working two jobs for over eight hours was draining.

You made sure everything was ready for the next day before you left for Shield, that way you could just get home, change, and sleep. Tuesday might’ve been a rough starting day, but you’d learn for Thursday, and Wednesday’s morning was definitely better.

Peter even texted you his coffee order, telling you he’d probably be late. You chuckled to yourself when you got the text at breakfast. You totally called it.

In his defense, he really was running late, and you could tell just by looking at him. One shoe untied, hair messy like he just rolled out of bed, sweater haphazardly thrown on like it was an afterthought, which it probably was.

“You,” he puffed, sinking into his chair and taking the coffee cup you held out. “Are my savior and I’ll love you until the end of time.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “And you, my friend, are so much more chaotic than I thought. What’d you do? Stay up until three last night?”

He shrugged, shooting you an innocent smile while his cheeks turned red. “I got caught up binge watching Clone Wars.”

“Of course you did. Here’s the notes you missed so far.”

He gave you an adoring smile. “Did I tell you I love you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sap. Hurry and copy them down so I don’t miss anything.”

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

It was when you were checking your things Wednesday night when you realized you had an extra pen. It took you a moment to remember the blue eyed pretty boy from Coulson’s History lecture, but when you did you groaned.

Your dating record in high school was pretty bad. Not that you would really call it dating. But Whitney was right when she said it was you wanting attention. It wasn’t easy being the middle of seven. But you dealt with it and now that you were across the country from your family - who you loved but Jesus Christ did you need a break - you didn’t need to act out to seek attention. 

You were an adult. Meaning you wouldn’t goof off with guys like that anymore. Meaning you didn’t even want to talk to guys like that anymore.

Meaning you were severely regretting taking his stupid pen.

Maybe he wouldn’t notice if you didn’t give it back. Yeah. Maybe you could just ignore him and he won’t even remember that he let you borrow it.

Those were your hopes as you walked into your US History lecture, taking the seat you had on Tuesday.

“On time today? Glad to see we’re learning.” And there go your hopes, crashing straight into the floor, shattering into millions of tiny pieces. Going for ‘not interested’, you quirked an eyebrow, twisting your head as a bag landed on the table next to your open laptop, a body falling into the seat beside you. The leather jacket was replaced with a denim one, his black button up tighter around his chest than Tuesday’s white t-shirt. “And you charged your computer! Very nice, doll.”

You shrugged, going back to your doodling. “Time management’s always been a bit of an issue for me.”

“Ah. Gotchu, gotchu. I’ve got a pal like that too. A couple of them, actually.” He chuckled. “Is that why you high-tailed outta here Tuesday?”

“I’ve got work right after this class.” You answered shortly.

He leaned his elbow on the table, his legs spread as he turned fully to, a slight smirk on his face. “I haven’t seen you ‘round campus before. You new here? A freshman? You don’t look like it.”

You hummed. “Maybe. It’s a big campus.”

“Which you don’t live on.” 

Frowning at the question that he said more like a statement, you moved your head back to him. “I don’t?”

He shook his head, setting his cheek in his palm. “Nope. I know everyone who lives on campus.”

A bit distracted due to Professor Coulson just walking in and announcing the lesson for the day, you hummed and shut your notebook and set up a page on your laptop for notes. “Everyone, huh?”

He nodded with a click of his tongue. “I get around.”

There it was. “Oh? A party animal?”

“I wouldn’t say that. My friends and I are just outgoing. We enjoy life.”

“Enjoy life or enjoy getting into girl’s pants?”

He hissed, shaking his hand like he burned it. “Ouch, doll. That stung. For your information, quite a few people in my group are goin’ steady. And we’re of mixed genders and sexualities. It’s not always girls’ pants.”

You raised an eyebrow, turning to him while still trying to pay attention. “For you or your group.”

“Does it matter?” He shrugged. “Would it bother you if I did fuck guys? ‘Cause I have experimented and it’s not half bad.”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’, shaking your head. “You do you, pal. Or…do whoever you want to. Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to-”

He nodded. “Right, right. Yeah. Sorry. Just…listen. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m not gonna force you to do anything, you know. Yeah, sure, I’ve seen a few beds around campus, but I’ve got female friends who I don’t sleep with. What if I just wanna be friends with you, huh doll?”

“Just friends?”

“Yup.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Okay. How many of these so-called female friends you don’t sleep with single?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “The list gets smaller, but yeah.”

“How about single straight female friends?”

He paused at that, eyebrows scrunched up. After a moment you clicked your tongue with a slight smirk, facing your computer and typing the notes Coulson was writing on the projector. “Hold on, hold on. Yes, I’ve got a few of them. Listen, babygirl, you’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be.”

You scoffed. “Don’t call me ‘babygirl’ and we’ll see where that gets you.”

“Okay, okay. That’s fair. What? Don’t you believe that guys and girls can be friends with nothing between ‘em?”

“Yeah, I do. Just not guys like you.”

He frowned, eyes narrowing. “Well that’s not fair. You don’t even know me!”

“Mister Barnes.” Bucky winced at the teacher’s annoyed shout, before throwing Coulson a dashing grin.

“Hey, Phil! How was your summer, man? You still goin’ out with that cellist?”

The professor raised his eyebrows, unamused. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

“Oh yeah! Thanks for the reminder, Phil!” Bucky stood up and cleared his throat. “Yo! First football game of the season is next Friday! It’s gonna be a blast! Watch out for number 41! Handsome devil’s gonna score the winning touchdown! Avengers assemble, am I right?!”

Coulson gave him an unamused look as the room cheered, making you laugh behind your hand. Bucky fell back into his seat, shooting you a wink as Coulson calmed down the room.

“You’re a football player?”

“Fullback, yes ma’am. Co-captain of the team, in fact.” He smugly leaned his seat onto the back two legs, setting his feet up on the desk.

Unbelievable. Why were you always attracted to these idiots? A player in both senses of the word. “There it is.”

He blinked, his chair falling forwards with a ‘thud’ that made Coulson shot him a warning glare. Bucky smiled innocently, before shifting his chair so he was turned towards you again, the smile turning upside down. “There what is?”

“That cocky, conceited air you fill the room with. Attention is what you live for. I should’ve guessed you were a jock too. I’m surprised you’re not wearing a letterman jacket or something just to make sure everyone knows who you are.”

His frown deepened. “Look, doll. I dunno what you think you know about me, or what you’ve heard-”

“I’ve never heard about you before you lent me a pen Tuesday. Which I appreciate and here it is back, by the way. But I know your type. I’ve been down that road. So excuse me for trying not to make the same mistake twice.”

He stared at the pen you set down by his bag, before his gaze flitted back to you, but you wouldn’t meet those pretty eyes of his. “Fine. Sue me for trying to get to know the new girl.”

“This is a mainly freshman class. Half the girls in here are new.”

“Yeah, but they’re chattering away with the posse they’ve already discovered.” He nodded over across the room. Your eyes scanned the lecture hall to find that he was right. Most girls were giggling and whispering to each other, no doubt freshman straight from high school. The others were most likely maturing sophomores. “And, hey, if you want extra reassurance I’m not trying to get you in my bed; I don’t fuck with freshman. Nothing against you or anything, just…straight outta high school and all that? Not really my jam.”

You eyed him, before shrugging and looking down to make sure you got the notes Coulson was starting to talk about. “Yeah, well, too bad I’m not straight out of high school, then.”

He tilted his head, an eyebrow raising in curiosity. “So you’re not a freshman. I didn’t think you were.”

“No, I am. But I took a year break between high school and college. But if you didn’t think I was a freshman, that reassurance doesn’t really work, now does it.” He opened his mouth to defend himself, but you continued, not wanting excuses. “What about you? You’re definitely not a freshman.”

“Nah. I’m a junior. I studied abroad for a semester last year and there were mishaps my freshman year, so I’ve got a few classes to make up. My friend had this class last year, so I just took all his notes. Coulson never changes his lectures. Pretty sure he doesn’t even change the tests.” You hummed, pretending you were barely listening when you really heard every word loud and clear. Bucky huffed, reaching out to grab your wrist gently, making you stop typing and look up to meet his eyes. “Can we start over? Please. I don’t know what type of guys you used to know or whatever and, yeah, I’ll admit I started the conversation like an idiot, but I promise I’m not that bad.”

Pursing your lips, you scanned his features, taking in the pleading eyes and the pouty lips. Clearing your throat, you took your hands off the keyboard, straightened a bit, and turned to him, holding out your hand, your full name falling from your lips.

The beam he gave you had you severely doubting your initial thoughts about him, his larger, calloused hand taking your eagerly. “James Barnes. Everyone calls me Bucky.”

You nodded, before starting to type again. “What are you studying?”

“Mechanical engineering.”

You paused, not expecting that answer. Maybe you were wrong - majorly wrong. “Really?”

“Yeah. I dunno. Technology’s always interested me and I like fixing cars and stuff; I work at an auto shop actually. I dunno what I’m gonna do with it yet, but it feels like a step in the right direction, ya know?”

“I’m afraid not.” You shook your head. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

He chuckled, drumming his fingers against the table. “That’s alright, doll. I don’t think anyone does. They just think they do.”

“That’s…very true, actually.”

He grinned, running a hand through his hair again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I told you: I’m not an idiot all the time. I swear.” That made you laugh.

Bucky talked to you throughout the rest of the class, never going above a whisper as he babbled about his other classes and how one of his friends, Sam, tripped down the stairs that morning. You were almost annoyed at him, but he was a very good conversationalist and he wasn’t distracting you too badly. There weren’t any awkward pauses while he stumbled around for something to talk about and if he wasn’t talking, it was a comfortable silence filled with Coulson’s voice, pen scribbling on paper, and the clicking of computer keys. He never pushed you for responses, either, only asking a couple questions, like where you worked and what other classes you had.

“Sorry if I’m bothering you.” He said a few minutes before class was over. “I’m just bored.”

“No. You’re fine.” Honestly, besides a few flirty comments and that pet name ‘doll’ popping up here and there, he wasn’t as bad as you were thinking.

He went quiet for a moment before clearing his throat, almost nervously. Your forehead creased as you snuck a glance at him. He licked his lips, a hand combing through his locks, scratching the back of his head. You wondered why he did that so often.

“So, uh, there’s this cabin in the woods by the lake about half an hour away…” His eyes widened at the weird look you shot him. “Oh fuck, that sounds so bad. No, no. It’s not - I’m not a serial killer or anything. My friend owns it. Well, technically his dad does, but it’s his. Anyways, he always throws a party the first weekend of a new semester. On Saturday. Noon to midnight. If you’d wanna come.”

You quirked an eyebrow, packing up your stuff as Coulson dismissed class early. “You’re asking me to go to your friend’s cabin in the woods-?”

He shook his head with a little laugh. “It sounds so sketchy. I promise it’s legit, though. Honest. You can ask anyone. It’s Tony Stark’s party. He holds one every-”

“You’re friends with Tony Stark?”

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. We’re in the same circle. I know how it sounds, but-”

“I’m working.” You cut him off, finding it amusing how he rambled. Who knew a fuckboy could get so nervous about asking a girl to a party. “But if you give me the address I’ll see if I can get some time off.”

“That’d be awesome. Yeah, yeah. Here.” He quickly grabbed the post-it note you handed to him and scribbled the address down. “It’d be really cool if you could make it.”

“I’ll try. Cross my heart.” You smiled, taking the paper from him. “I do have to go, though-”

“Oh right. Yeah. Work. I’ll see you this weekend, then. Maybe.” He grinned.

You bit your lip, nodding. “Maybe.”

As he started walking out, you looked down to grab your bag, the pen left on the table catching your attention. “Hey!” You called after him, making him turn around, walking backwards with that grin still on his lips. You lifted the writing utensil to show him. “Your pen!”

He shook his head. “Keep it! I don’t take notes in this class anyways!” He shot you a wink, before spinning on his heel, his hands in his pockets, whistling some random tune, without a care in the world. 

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

“There she is! So?! How’s school been?! I wanna know!”

You grinned at Whitney as she bounced in, looking at you excitedly while going to wash her hands. “You’re working early today. It’s only 3.”

She shrugged. “They wanted me in before dinner rush tonight. Don’t dodge the question!”

“It’s been fine. I’ve met a couple people, doodled a few things, ignored syllabus talk - the usual.”

She sniggered, moving her eyebrows. “Any cute guys so far?” You thought back to your History lecture and Bucky, who confused the hell out of you. Whitney’s squeal pulled you out of your thoughts. “That’s a yes! Tell me about him immediately!” 

“It’s not a ‘yes’. There’s nothing to tell.”

“But he is hot, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips pulled up at the corners. “He’s…very easy on the eyes.”

Whitney gave an excited squeak, quickly drying her hands and putting on gloves before sliding up to you. “So? Tell me all about him.”

“Nothing to tell.”

“Bull.” She called out. “What’s his name?”

You huffed, focusing on the pizza you were making. “Bucky.”

She tried it out on her tongue before nodding. “Cute, cute. How old is he?”

“He’s a junior, so I’m guessing 20. Maybe 21 if his birthday was in the past week.”

Whitney hounded on you for every detail of your conversation, which you told her with some exception, leaving out the pen and some of the random stuff he told you. “So he’s a fuckboy?”

“Oh yeah. No doubt.”

“But he’s a charming fuckboy?”

“Mhmm.”

“And he’s not a dick?”

“So far.”

“So…he’s your type.”

You scoffed, giving her a look. “I don’t have a ‘type’.”

She gave you a bemused expression back. “Honey, it’s not a secret you like the charismatic guys that every girl swoons over. You just don’t swoon over them and that’s what makes you different.”

You scowled. “I don’t swoon over them because they don’t deserve my effort. And no. I don’t have a thing for them. I just…tend to get their attention more than other guys.”

“Because you don’t swoon over them.”

“Whitney-”

“Okay, okay. What happened next?”

You shrugged. “Nothing. He just sorta…talked the entire class. He did invite me to a party on Saturday though-”

“Oh my God! You have to go! College parties are the best! You’ll have so much fun!” She stopped to give you a serious look, pointing a finger towards you. “You’re going, right?”

“I dunno. Maybe. I’ve got to ask Phillips if I can get time off and I-I dunno if I even want to go.”

Whitney groaned, throwing her hands in the air and letting her head fall back. “This is the first party of your college life! There shouldn’t be any doubt!”

“Apparently Tony Stark is the one throwing it-”

“Are you fucking - you can’t not go!”

You snickered, Whitney’s persistence amusing you. “Again. It depends on Phillips. We’ll see. I promise.”

“At least tell me you got this guy’s number.”

“Nope.”

Whitney glared at you. “You are the absolute worst person to try getting drama out of, you know that? You’re not interested at all in this guy?”

You shrugged, turning to throw the pizza in. “Maybe. I wanna try out this whole friend thing first. Tommy’s the first real guy friend I’ve had since middle school and that’s mostly because he’s gay and we barely even talk outside work. I’ve never just…let myself take a break from dating before.”

A sigh came from the other girl, who reluctantly nodded. “That’s good, actually. Take a mental break. I respect that. But please, for the love of God, please try to have fun.”

You smirked, nodding. “I’ve told you, Whit. I know how to have fun. Don’t worry; if I do go to that party, I’ll have enough for both of us.”

“Yes! I have to live college through you now, so it’s your responsibility!”

You mockingly saluted. “I won’t let you down, babe.”

[austenholls]

Purple-Hued Night

LOCATION → huntington beach, ca

TIME FRAME → friday night, june 18th, 2027 | 11:00 - 11:47 PM 

NOTES →  written on discord.  winnie & austen chat in the hot tub while sharing a bottle of lukewarm Jameson - about austen’s muse, winnie’s dancing, and caring about what people think. 

TAGGING → @austenholls & @songwheein

Austen 

[ Austen, bottle of Jameson in her hand, shimmies out of her shorts to reveal her red swimsuit bottoms. This night feels weird, it isn't how she wanted it to go, but by now she's somewhere between tipsy and drunk and her barely there high from earlier has dissipated. She slips into the hot tub, eyes attempting to avoid the view of the bonfire. She reaches out to snatch her phone that has spilled from the pockets of her discarded shorts and quickly plays a playlist - the first song being How Will I Know by Whitney Houston ] "There's a boy I know, he's the one I dream of, looks into my eyes, takes me to the clouds above, mmm-hmm," [ She sings softly before pressing the Jameson bottle to her lips, bobbing her head to the music. Eyes peer to her left and spot Winnie, her free hand lifts in beckoning wave. ]

Winnie

[ Clearly the first half hour or so of the bonfire had lured her into a false sense of security that they could all suck it up and get along. She herself hadn’t been involved in any of the drama, but there had been plenty. It had been easy enough to slip away to the deck when she was ready for her exit, but the night had been too perfect to abandon just yet. Cool, ocean breeze, purply black skies. When music breaks the din, she turns to look and finds Austen looking back at her, she can’t help but smile. It’s been nice spending a little time with her as adults. ] There’s nothing sadder than drinking alone, y’know.

Austen

[ She can't tell if there's pity or if it's just the truth. She nods for Winnie to come join, bottom lip worried between her teeth ] Then make me less sad.

Winnie

[ She crosses the deck to the edge of the hot tub, peering down at Austen. The music makes her bare feet tap almost unconsciously. ] Are you sad? [ It only takes her a second or two to fully accept the invite, slipping out of her shorts and cropped tee until she’s stepping and then sitting into the water in her underwear. She reaches out for the bottle. ] Hand it over, sad bitch.

Austen

[ Eyes dart to the slight foot tap and then back to the blonde's eyes. ] A little. Maybe. [ She's too drunk to deny it. Also too drunk to deny herself the joy of watching the thing dancer gracefully step out of her clothes. A sloppy drink is taken before handing over the handle. ] Tell me the secret, happy bitch. Ice blue aura. How are you always so collected?

Winnie

[ She snorts softly before taking a quick swig. God, that’s rank straight. ] I’ve always been conflict-avoidant. [ Eyes roll a little. ] I also care a lot less these days. But I’m not always zen, contrary to what you might think. Clearly I’m a very good actress in addition to being a very good dancer. I’m one singing voice away from being a triple threat, damn.

Austen

[ There's no shame in the fact that she doesn't care how gross the alcohol is. ] Wait -  [ a pause as she points at Winnie. ] Are you saying you /can't/ sing?

Winnie

[ Blonde head turns to meet Austen’s eyes with a raised brow. ] Why do you think I /can/ sing?

Austen

[ Tilts her head, both brows raised ] You were like so good at literally everything in high school. Am I supposed to think otherwise? [ asks with a laugh, holding her hand out and making a grabbing motion at the bottle of liquor ]

Winnie

[ Gladly hands it over, then finally ducks under the water to wet her hair, using both hands to slick it back after she resurfaces. Leans back against the wall of the hot tub. ] I’m a passable singer, I guess. Enough for me to lay something on a track until I can get one of my much better friends to sing it for me.

Austen

[ slips a hand around the bottle, opting to set it aside rather than cloud her mind anymore ] So maybe you are a triple threat. Dancing, Acting, Music ability in some way. Not everyone is so lucky. [ shrugs, looking to the blonde ] You say you care a lot less these days. What's that mean?

Winnie

[ Thin shoulders rise and fall. ] It sounds so douchey, but I just don’t care. If someone doesn’t like me, I’ll find someone else that will. If someone doesn’t believe in me, I believe in myself. [ She’s quiet for a second or two, thoughtful. ] I guess it’s easy to not care as much about other people if I sacrificed what my parents think of me to be happy. If I’m not going to let them stop me, why would I let anyone else? [ Another pause. ] Music helps. A lot. [ She turns her head, looking at Austen curiously. ] Art’s always helped you, right?

Austen

[ Blinks at the other girl - was that real? She's met people who feel that way, but is it ever actually true that you just don't care what people thing? Seems farfetched. ] I.. [ She wonders if she left behind what her mother - Hannah - thought of her, then maybe she'd be freer to care less, too. ] Seems like you've got it all figured out. I can't imagine not caring. [ A dry, possibly bitter, laugh leaves her lips ] Used to. Haven't been able to get much out recently.

Winnie

[ She can’t help but laugh. ] I’m not enough of an asshole to think I’ve got anything figured out— let alone all of it. But I promised myself after... Kennedy— everything— that I was going to stop being happy the way other people wanted me to. I was sick of meeting those expectations. [ She’s quiet after Austen’s explanation about her art slump. Visual art’s never been her strong suit, but she knows how much it hurts to be creatively frustrated. After a moment or two— ] Have you done anything new lately?

Austen

I mean, you seem like you've got it all down. Happy in LA, new look, new you. I feel like the only thing that I've figured out is that I look terrible as a brunette and I am still a child at heart. [ shrugs, looking up at the sky as she leaned back into the hot tub's jets ]  That's what high school was about for you then? Pleasing the parents and fitting into their mold? [ she asks, though she sort of always knew that. there's part of her that can't help but cling to who they all were back then ] Like in general or a new medium? I've been doodling a lot, but nothing that makes me want to finish... I.. [ pauses, looking over at Winnie ] Maybe I'm kind of scared that I'm not good at it anymore.

Winnie

You can’t be ‘not good’ at it anymore. That’s not how it works. [ Art is art is art is art. ] I mean I could break both my legs tomorrow and be objectively ruined, but what you do? That doesn’t just get lost unless /you/ forget it. [ She tips her head to one side, thinking. ] I mean in general. Go somewhere new. Listen to something new. Watch something new. Fuck someone new. Eat something new. Sometimes routine smothers our art, y’know? [ She sinks down into the water a bit. ] Maybe you should do something new, even if you’re bad at it.

Austen

[ She knows Winnie is right - that's why the laugh that escapes her is somewhat exasperated. ] I went to Portland. I fucked a bunch of new people there. Ate a lot of weird new Asian foods... But yeah. I think... there's something stuck inside of me and I'm... [ Talking this much about herself felt weird. This felt weird. ] Maybe I should do something new. [ Caves and agrees, smiling a little before laughing again ] Do you ever get blocked dance or music wise?

Winnie

Sure, yeah. It happens, and it sucks. [ She flicks a little bit of water at Austen— just enough to skim off the surface. ] Here. We’ll have an example. Doesn’t have to work, but it’s worth a shot. Close your eyes.

Austen

[ Flinches when the water comes her direction, furrowing her brow ] Oh, god. This feels like some weird ass hippie bullshit is about to happen. [ Laughs, closing her eyes and settling in - the alcohol is pushing her to trust Winnie a little more than she usually would ]

Winnie

[ Laughing. ] I’m definitely not the hippie of this group. [ She leans out of the water to wipe her hand on her shorts and retrieve her phone. Scrolling through it, she finds the song she wants to play and sets it on the deck between their heads. ] You’re not going to understand what she’s saying, but that’s not important, right? Just trying something new. See if it even gets half a wheel turning in that ginger head. [ She plays 보라빛 밤 on her phone and sits back. It’s a song she’s vibed to for a long time. It makes her think of colors and feelings and she, personally, finds it really emotive— inspiring. She doubts Austen will take nearly anything as much from it as she does. But maybe the language barrier will actually help. Maybe she’s thinking too damn much. ]

Austen

[ smirks ] Now I'm curious who you think /is/ the hippie. [ lets the silence settle, eyebrow raising over closed eyes as she hears the song begin. it's clearly Korean - she can tell that much, but shes never been into K-Pop. She's assuming that's what this is, at least. The music has a strong beat, an identity that's bouncy and she can tell that this is definitely something people can dance to. Austen listens to sad music, slow music when she paints - so Winnie isn't wrong. This is new. She gently moves her hips beneath the water, her head bobbing to the chorus. When it ends, she opens her eyes, looking to Winnie. ] Can you play it again?

Winnie

[ If she tried to pretend she hadn’t been running the entire choreo to herself while the song played, she’d be lyyyyyying. Sunmi is a queen, and Winnie will worship. The grin that splits her face when Austen asks her to play it again is straight devilish. Shit eating. ] You wanna know what it’s called?

Austen

[ Eyes blink a few times as she sees Winnie's grin, her own smile growing ] Sure... I can't say I won't butcher it. But I was just starting to feel something. I need to hear it again. [ She motions quickly with a hand, water flicking off of it ]

Winnie

Purple-hued night. [ That’s her favorite part. Everything about the song /feels/ purple. It’s such good production. She presses play again. ]

Austen

[ There's a shiver that hits her spine - her mind paints an entire piece in her mind before she gets it onto a canvas or paper. Varied hues of purple would mesh perfectly with what she was seeing the first time she listened. As the song plays again, this time the piece lights up in her head in color, the smile on her face unavoidable. Maybe Winnie was right. Maybe new things would spark her muse... just like this. ] [ The music stops again and a drunken Austen finds Winnie's hand underneath the water ] Will you send this to me? I... thanks, Win. [ her voice is soft in a whisper ]

Winnie

[ Again it's like muscle memory to thread their fingers together. Austen's hands are bigger than her own, but they're thin and slight. Winnie squeezes gently. She's still smiling, but it's a little softer now. She nods. ] Don't thank me. Thank Sunmi. [ She winks. ] But yeah of course I'll send it to you.

Austen

[ Austen returns the squeezed hand, an easy laugh escaping her ] Would it be your dream to dance with her? [ Keeps her hand comfortably in Winnie's. It feels like this past week has bonded them in some way. Maybe because they're both some sort of artist ] I don't listen to K-Pop usually.

Winnie

[ She reaches for the bottle of liquor and takes a sip, coughing quietly. ] I'd love to dance with a lot of kpop artists, to be honest. A lot of artists in general. The few times I've done tours or even one-off gigs with people in LA have been so fucking fun.

Austen

[ Releases Winnie's hand in favor of running it through her hair ] I feel like you're going to have to show me some of your tik toks or something because as much as I know you're good at everything... Like... bitch, prove it.

Winnie

[ Winnie scoffs, loudly, and pads her way across the hot tub to sit directly opposite Austen. She drapes her arms along the outer edge and leans back, languidly extending her legs, one reaching out of the water in a pose before she brings it down to splash the water the other girl's way. ] My tiktok isn't hard to find, ass.

Austen

[ She watches the other girl, a brow raising as the other girl's graceful limbs very particularly moved through the air. She's about to speak again when water comes flooding her way - there's just a loud, joyful laugh that leaves her as she wipes off her eyes ] Oh, sorry, I don't go scrounging tik tok for my super smart, always had a booked schedule friend from high school. [ Easily shoves some water Winnie's way, hoping to get her back just a bit ]

Winnie

[ She blows a raspberry, rolling her eyes in response. ] You must've had some other friend back then because I was never super smart. Sure you don't mean Shiloh? [ A beat. ] Maybe she does have a tiktok. [ Leaning forward more into the water. ] I promise you, I'm that good. Whether you find my account or not.

Austen

I mean... like comparing anyone to me - they're super smart. It's not like I fucking read your report card, my man. [ she laughs ] I'm gonna find the account and you're probably like allstar level good. Don't reduce your talent. [ leans forward, matching Winnie's stance ] Or is this an LA thing? Where people pretend like they're not good just to get more praise?

Winnie

[ That gets a loud bark of laughter. ] The last thing /anyone/ gets in LA is praise. [ This time when she splashes Austen with water, it's much gentler. Half-hearted. ] Let me know when you find it. And let me know when you paint something. I wanna see it. First, even.

Austen

[ It feels nice to be around Winnie - like she's less pressure than the rest of the group for some reason. Which is odd considering they'd just talked about the thing that felt the most full of pressure - her art. ] First? [ A soft hum vibrates against her lips. ] Will do. I can make that promise. I can also promise I will be up until all hours of the night finding Winnie Song on tiktok.

Winnie

[ She lifts two fingers to her brow, saluting. ] There are worse ways to go to sleep than knowing there's another girl out there watching my videos all night long. [ A grin. ]

Austen

I'm sure I wouldn't be the only one. [ Austen smirks, her buzz beginning to fade a little and the idea of warm Jameson makes her shudder. She stands, clumsily stepping out of the hot tub - if there are ever two opposites in movement, it's these two - except on skates ] Hey. [ she turns to Winnie after grabbing a towel from a nearby chair ] Could you help me set up a tiktok? I feel like my roller skating could at least get some sort of attention on there...

Winnie

[ She holds up a hand, thumb up. ] You got it, dude. [ Head tips to one side, appraisingly. ]

Austen

[ She nods, though tiktok seems like a heavy investment of time. The redhead gently dries off her legs and torso before wrapping the towel around her waist. ] I'm gonna grab something new to drink, maybe change. Don't have too much fun without me. [ She chuckles, picking up the Jameson and her clothes before waving a quick had to Winnie. She tiptoes toward the back entrance, humming the song from before. Maybe she'd get something out onto canvas or paper soon. ]