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#lot la night 11
landhinlove · 1 year
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ajshakzhisjahshs guys
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I FCUKING TOOK THESE PICTURES
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xanasaurusrex · 3 months
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clarisse being touchy clarisse la rue x reader (no godly parent specified) a/n: this randomly came to me while rewatching the second episode and i decided to write it. it's 11:30pm at the time of starting this, so idk how coherent this is gonna be, but it's gonna be cute, so strap in and enjoy the ride! taglist: @asvterias @lvrue @thewritingbarbie @kroumi @ravisinghs-wife
you were used to seeing a touchy clarisse. the two often found ways to be alone, to be just the two of you alone together. this was when clarisse got out all of her touchiness on you. whenever the two of you were in your little world, she never let go of you.
but the past few days had been busy. there had been lots of different types of incidents, and the two of you hadn't been able to get together just the two of you.
so when some of the other camp counsellors announced that they were holding a counselor-only bonfire, the two of you jumped at the opportunity.
at the beginning of the bonfire, clarisse was just holding your hand. you would occasionally lean your head on her shoulder, and she would lay her cheek on the top of your head. a few times, she pressed a kiss to your hair as well.
nobody really blinked at that, since those were things that the two of you already did. it was a bit of a shock at first, clarisse acting anything but hostile towards another person, but at this point, after the two of you dating for over a year, everyone was used to it.
as the night wore on, however, clarisse's restraint dissolved. she wanted so desperately to hold you, to grab onto you and never let you go.
she started following you around wherever you were, refusing to let go of your hands. when you told her that you needed your hands to get s'more stuff, she decided to just curl her arm around your waist, and refuse to let that go.
after a while, you wandered off while she was talking to someone from her cabin. she realized two seconds too late that you had extricated her hand from your waist, and she whirled around, freaking out.
she caught sight of you just a few seconds later, sitting in a camping chair roasting a marshmallow. her eyebrows knitted together as she walked up behind you.
she gently laid her hands on your shoulders, startling you slightly. you turned your head sharply, but smiled when you caught sight of her. "hi!" you said cheerily.
clarisse's mouth turned down into a sad frown as she gave you her puppy dog eyes.
"what?" you asked, turning around further in the chair to be more head on with her.
clarisse blew out a sad breath, and made eye contact with you as she asked, "why did you leave me?"
"oh my gods," you let out a laugh as you sagged against the camping chair. "you're so dramatic," you said.
clarisse scoffed. "i looked away for one second! one second, and you were gone! i thought a monster got you," she huffed.
"no you didn't!" you started cackling as you took hold of her hand that was rested on the top of the camping chair. you gave it a gentle kiss and looked up at clarisse through your lashes, giving her your own puppy dog eyes, the ones that were famous for getting clarisse to do literally anything you want. she wavers, but does her best to remain composed. "do you wanna come sit with me?"
and that was it.
clarisse immediately walked around the camping chair, and grabbed your hands to pull you up. she sat down in the chair, and then pulled you to sit in her lap.
this was something that clarisse loved, something the two of you did quite a lot. there was just something about having you, the most important person in her life, on her lap. she was able to wrap her arms around your waist and pull you closer to her. she was also able to lay her head on your shoulder, and she really loved that.
as soon as you were sat securely on her lap, she pulled the two of you closer, and laid her head on your shoulder, closing her eyes with a small smile on her face. she laid her hand in the crook of your elbow, gently stroking your arm as you roasted your marshmallow.
it was times like this that you and clarisse absolutely shocked everyone else at camp.
clarisse was a daughter of ares, and she really fit the bill. she was known for being ruthless in combat, absolutely terrifying with her magic spear. she hunted fearlessly in her neck of the woods during capture the flag, and it was so renowned that everybody avoided those woods as best they could during the games.
suffice to say, clarisse was known for being scary.
but she was different when she was with you. it was like you flicked a switch somewhere inside of her, made her different. you softened her edges, made her less scratchy. well, with you at least. she was still just as scratchy with everyone else, so to speak.
right at this very moment, luke, chris, and a few other counselors were looking at the two of you in complete awe and confusion.
"it's so weird to see her like that still," chris says, looking at the two in confusion.
luke nodded in agreement. "i agree," he watched as clarisse nuzzled against your neck, and sent you a beaming smile as you looked down at her with one of your own. she pecked your lips softly, and luke turned back to the group he was with. "it's crazy to see the switch. literally five minutes ago she was like, scolding me for taking too many chips,"
one of the other counselors laughed. "the other day, i accidentally put a sword back in the wrong spot, and she yelled at me for a solid five minutes. right as i was about to burst into tears, y/n walked in, and clarisse immediately melted,"
"she's so whipped," luke laughed, and the others laughed along with him.
clarisse knew she was whipped, she was very much so aware of that. but she was also, very much so okay with that.
she had never loved anyone as much as she loved y/n.
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angelltheninth · 6 months
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Daemon Not Being a Morning Person
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, naked cuddling, morning after, shoulder kissing, cuddles
Flufftober Day 11: “Oh no, you’re a morning person.”
A/N: Posting a lot for flufftober today.
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You'd think that with his reputation Daemon would be a very early riser. Normally yes, not when he spent the whole night with you in his bed, making you moan his name over and over until you lost your voice. How many rounds did you go for? You both lost count. And now you were trying to slip away from his arms before he's even fully awake?
"Oh no, you're a morning person." Came his rough, hoarse voice and soon after his arms around your waist, one hand pressing against your lower stomach. You shivered, not from the morning air but from feeling his skin against yours again, which brought back memories from las night.
"Last time I checked so were you." You turned around, shifted back on top of him and pinned his wrists to the sides of his head. "Or I you saying that I tired the great Daemon Targaryen? What an honor."
He did not appriciate your teasing but it didn't seem like he was gonna punish you for it either. "You wish. As far as I remember you were the one who told me you couldn't take anymore. I'm mearly being considerate of you." There was that smile of his, shining in the morning light, his hair somehow still perfect after you constantly pulled on it last night, not a strand out of place except that one that almost always fell over his forehead in that cute way.
"You could always entice me to spend the morning with you." As if there was need for that, you were already sliding your body against his, careful not to put pressure on yourself down below as you still ached in those places. "What will you give me if I stay?"
"Everything." Daemon whispered as he planted the softest kiss you've ever felt on your left shoulder. "Weather of not it's within my power I will find a way to give you what you ask of me." From flirty to soft, he could do it so seamlessly and make your heart explode in a second. "Will you stay just a while longer?"
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strawberryspence · 1 year
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Because I am obsessed with the famous trope here’s another one that kept me up all night.
Steve and Eddie dated right after Vecna in ‘86 and it’s perfect. They date each other and it’s like two puzzles clicking together. But they’re young, foolish and they both have mountains of trauma. And sometimes, the passion and love, just isn’t enough to keep a relationship going.
They have a messy break up that has Eddie packing all his stuff up in ‘88. Eddie goes to LA or New York, either way that’s where he gets discovered. He then goes on to write some very angsty and angry rock/metal music about the break-up that gets him up on the map.
Steve hates it. He hates it with every fibre of his soul because it’s one thing when you and you ex still have the same friends and have to be civil with each other, but it’s a whole other thing when you open the radio and this man you dated, this man you loved and cared for and failed is just out here singing it for the whole world to hear.
And yeah listen, it’s petty and dumb. But Steve writes his own fucking songs, it’s not the direct response to Eddie’s song but it’s close. By that time it’s already ‘90 and Eddie’s made a whole name and career out of their relationship. Steve writes the songs, he sings, and he sends the damn demo to almost fifty different companies. And he gets picked up by one company.
Steve takes the pop star route, and with his looks and his somehow amazing vocals, by ‘94 Steve’s on the charts with Whitney and Mariah. The whole Party has solemnly promised to not get involved with their petty songwriting fighting anymore. They also haven’t spoken in person in almost six years, and the only way they communicate now is through the freaking songs.
There’s not a lot of overlap with the rock and pop community, and no one notices it until ‘05. It’s one fan that makes this one blog post talking about this weird freaky coincidence in Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson’s songs. It becomes a whole thing, like someone from Hawkins pulls out the yearbooks and finds out that they could’ve known each other. Their faces are splashed together into every magazine and celebrity entertainment shows.
They don’t say anything about it. No one comments about it for a few years and it infuriates the public even more. The next time Steve comes out with a song, Eddie comes out with another song a few months after and it’s once again a literal conversation about their relationship.
The whole thing continues until ‘11 and by then there’s blog dedicated for all the clues. It’s now a long running thread, and it gets updated when there’s another clue to this massive confusing puzzle. There’s a whole subsection with names of every Party member and how they connect the two artists together. There’s freaking flow charts and pictures and family trees.
It only ends when Eddie finally posts two pictures on Twitter. The first one is taken backstage. All you can see is Steve’s back, but you will know it’s him because of his hair. He’s standing at the side of the stage, and on the stage is Eddie Munson singing. The second one is a picture of Eddie sitting in a couch as Steve looms over him, hands crossed on his chest. Eddie’s signing his own album with a smirk, while Steve glares at him. If you zoom, you can see the sign on the album saying, “To Steve. This album is for you.”
The caption says: “Me and my biggest fan. Circa 2004.”
Steve replies to the original post saying: “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Eddie deletes the post and reposts it with: “Me and my wonderful, gorgeous, talented husband. I can’t believe I am married to THE Steve Harrington.”
It’s the first time the term “break the internet” is ever used.
Turns out, they were just writing the songs to spite each other and to add fuel to the fandom fire. (In an interview, Eddie says, “It’s our foreplay.” and Steve doesn’t talk to him for a solid 30 minutes for running his mouth. It only lasts for 30 minutes because Eddie made it up to him by using his mouth for something else.)
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simpingsavant · 3 months
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Late Night
Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader
Summary: You are the person always working when Spencer stops by to get his fix of Mountain Dew Kickstart.
Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn. A gross man flirts w you for plot purposes. Promise it's very non-major but just in case.
Word Count: 6.4k
A/N: First time posting for smosh, but not the first time posting fanfic. I made a whole side blog for this lol I'm thinking I want to post more so feel free to send me smosh requests and give lots of love so I stay motivated to write more hehe <3
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Working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour convenience store is generally not a good idea. Except this one is in a nice area of LA, you’re almost always working with someone, and it’s slow enough that you can get your grad school work done.
Four months ago, when you were first looking at the help wanted sign in the window, you decided you would give it a week to see if it was actually worth it. Now, you were contently typing away on your computer as a group of middle-aged people grabbed alcohol and snacks. They were fancily dressed but the expressions on their faces were reminiscent of college students who were partying through the night like they owned it. When they came up with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enough snacks to last them weeks, you happily scanned the items.
The silver fox dressed in a deep, blue suit dropped a twenty in the tip jar.
“Thank you,” You said, handing him a receipt as his cohorts grabbed the food.
The bell jingled as they left. Your coworker was in the back taking inventory. You looked down at your laptop, rereading the last couple of sentences as you found your place in the research essay you’d been taking notes from.
You loved your job. You worked from 11 pm to 8 am and although it took you time to adjust to a new sleep schedule, it was worth it. You were paid slightly more since you were working such an atrocious shift and you never interacted with your boss. Occasionally, he would message you that he was coming in early to talk, but he often just texted about what he wanted you to get done.
Until 1 am, you were working with Michael, a young man who was in his senior year of college. At 4 am, Marie would come in, an older Latina woman who had been working this shift for over ten years now. She’d relieve you for your break and you’d come back just in time for the morning rush.
You liked the morning rush. Although you couldn’t get much homework done at the time, it was when you had your most regulars. You would see moms buying their children lunch before school, office workers buying cheap coffee, and students buying energy drinks.
Marie would man the register, and you would come to help if needed. During rests, you would be restocking shelves or cleaning.
From 1 am to 4 am, you would usually see only a few faces. You would see students who stay up extremely late or workers having to go in much too early. Since it was a nice neighborhood, they were all pleasant people and you never worried about your own safety or well-being. 
Only one regular came in consistently during these hours. He looked to be about your age with chocolate hair that curled at the nape of his neck. He came in just after 1 am and always sported dark eye circles. He purchased anywhere from 4 to 8 cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and occasionally a bag of chips. 
Sometimes, you’d see him in the morning again before you were off. He’d buy a cheap coffee and some fruit.
For the first month, you were too concerned with doing your job well to start any conversations besides pleasantries. He was, however, the first customer you recognized as a regular. You couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would need so many energy drinks. In particular, why in God's name did he love Mountain Dew Kickstart?
Maybe you were so intrigued because he caught your eye from day one. He was dressed in combat boots and a worn jacket. You soon learned those two items were part of his daily attire. You liked the way his hair looked or the way his downturned eyes crinkled as he smiled.
In your second month of working there, you spent way too much time trying to think of a way to start a conversation.
So far, you only got:
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“How’s your night going?”
“Good, and you?”
“Fine. Do you want a bag?”
“No, I have my backpack.”
“Okay. Your total is $12.53, go ahead and swipe, insert, or tap your card. Would you like your receipt?”
Sometimes he said yes, sometimes he said no. A few times, your hands would brush. He was always so warm, your cold hands lingering as he bashfully smiled and looked away.
“Have a good one.”
“You too.”
His hair was getting longer and you thought it suited him well. You wanted nothing more than a reason to hold a genuine conversation with him.
During your third month, that reason finally came.
He walked in, luscious locks replaced with a buzz cut and you couldn’t help but go “Oh wow.”
“Is it that bad?” He joked, rubbing the top of his head.
“No, no,” You immediately said, hands moving rapidly. “It just surprised me.” A beat of silence followed before you added, “You pull it off.” He really did, but you also took that as a sign you liked him a little too much. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.
“Thanks, it was for work,” He adds, voice monotone despite the little grin he sported at your compliment. He walks farther into the store, toward the opposite wall with the display of drinks.
“For work? Are you joining the army?” You question, stumbling over your words slightly as you realize that it’s finally happening—you are finally holding a conversation with him.
“No,” He laughs. “I work for this online entertainment company.” He fills his arms with five cans. “It was for a special.”
“Oh,” You reply, rolling on the balls of your feet as you try to think of ways to keep the conversation going. “Are you an actor?”
“More behind the scenes,” He replies, coming up to the counter and placing his drinks down. He grabs a bag of chips from the front display.
“That’s cool,” You say, picking up the first can as you begin scanning.
He shrugs, “I’m sure half the city does stuff online.”
“I doubt that,” You scoff. “Maybe half does entertainment, but definitely not exclusively online content.” Feeling a little bad for shutting him down, you look up at him for a moment, expecting to see disappointment or annoyance.
Instead, he’s smiling. It’s not a large smile, but it quells your anxiety.
“You’re probably right,” He answers, fishing out his card.
“I usually am,” You joke, giving him a quick look before clicking away on your screen. “Your total is $10.54.”
He lets out a short laugh that makes your insides flip with satisfaction. “I’m Spencer by the way,” He offers, putting away his card after the reader beeps.
“Y/N,” You say, tapping your name tag. “Do you want your receipt, Spencer?”
“Sure, Y/N,” He answers, putting his drinks into his backpack.
You rip it from the printer and hold it out. The way he said your name makes you shiver. He takes the receipt and bids you farewell.
You see him in the morning and you’re eighty percent sure he times it to check out with you instead of Marie. Today he opted for an iced coffee with lots of cream and a plastic container of chopped mango.
“Good morning, Spencer. How’d you sleep?”
“Good, but not long enough. What about you?”
You see a flash of realization on his face as soon as he says it, but you’re speaking before he can correct himself.
“Haven’t slept yet, but I get off in ten minutes and will be able to sleep till five today so that’s nice.”
“What’s at five?”
“Class. They’re in the evening since so many grad students work day jobs.” You tap away on the screen. “Would you like your receipt?”
“Nah, just toss it.” He picks up the drink and fruit. “See ya later, Y/N.”
“See you,” You reply, crumpling the receipt and throwing it in the small trash bin under your register before waving to the next customer.
~~
Since then, Spencer has come in every night without fail and sparked a conversation with you. You learn that the company he works for is called Smosh and you think the name is vaguely familiar. He asks you what you’re studying and why you’re always on your laptop.
The next month and a half goes by quickly. You come to expect him, anticipating his nightly visits. He has recently started staying longer, leaning over the counter and smiling at you as he talks about something that happened the other day. If another person comes in, he usually takes that as his sign to leave, wishing you well and exiting before the new customer is ready to check out.
You’re unfortunately not getting as much homework done because of this, but you don’t mind one bit. You either work during your break or just take some time before class to do more. You wonder if he’s not getting as much sleep because of this, worried you’re burdening him. Despite this, you know that you’ll selfishly never be able to turn him away. Even if it is for his own benefit.
Once, he came in before Michael had left. Your conversation was curt and he left right after you gave him the receipt. Michael stared you down the whole time and Spencer was clearly thrown off by another person being there.
“Who was that?” Your coworker asked, moving toward you from his spot behind the hot food.
“Just a regular,” You answer, trying to keep your cool. You pull out a cloth and begin wiping down the counter, wanting to occupy your hands. “He usually comes later.”
“Ah,” Michael says, nodding slowly and giving you a look. “That’s it?”
“Yeah?”
“Interesting.”
The comment piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, “How so?”
Michael smirks at you, “Why do you care?”
“Bro, shut up,” You hiss, pushing him out of your face and walking over to your stash of food. Your face felt hot as you walked past, and you attempted to hide it in the collar of your shirt. It was never fun to be caught with a crush, but you wanted to know Michael’s thoughts. So far, you and Spencer always talked in privacy, with no onlookers to comment on if your feelings seemed mutual.
“Fine, fine,” He relents, holding his hands up. “It’s just that I saw him through the window before he came in and he was smiling way too big for someone coming in the pick up energy drinks.”
“You’d be surprised. He gets those every night,” You defensively argue, “He probably has a shrine at home.”
“Oh, come on,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as you pop a chip into your mouth. “That smile dropped as soon as he saw me. I bet he wishes it was just you.”
“Don’t say that stuff.”
“Why not? Don’t you like him? You definitely lit up when you saw him.”
You gawk at your coworker, absolutely astonished at how easy it was for him to notice. This was the first time anyone witnessed the two of you interact and now you were questioning every interaction. Did he like you? Or did he just like that you gave him a confidence boost because your infatuation was so obvious?
“W-what’s your major again? Investigation?” You accuse, stuttering out of pure frustration.
“Yes, actually—”
You roll your eyes, but the sound of the door brings your back to attention. You steel your expression but are grateful the conversation ended. It was a wake-up call for you and you spent the rest of your shift trying to understand your feelings more.
Could it still be called a crush? You felt like you knew so much and yet so little about him. When did you cross the line from strangers to acquaintances? How do you go from acquaintances to friends? Did you even want to be friends?
After that, Spencer always came in after Michael left, his disposition more friendly when it was just the two of you. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but it was hard to think about when only a counter separated the two of you and he was radiating warmth and cracking jokes.
~~
“Okay,” You hear Michael say and all of a sudden you are back to reality, no farther in your reading than you were 10 minutes ago.
The door to the back shuts and you look at your coworker with wide eyes.
“I finally finished with inventory.”
He looks down at his phone, prompting you to look at the time showing on your laptop.
12:56
“Sweet,” He says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Need anything from me before I go?” 
“No,” You answer. “Enjoy your night.”
“Thanks, I’m gonna go grab my stuff before I clock out.”
“For sure. See you tomorrow.”
“Later,” Michael says.
He opens the door to the back and you turn to your computer. The break room was through those doors as was the back entrance which almost all employees used when coming and going.
You focused on your computer, reading the most important parts of the study and taking down notes. In the back of your mind, you knew Spencer would be arriving soon. It makes you nervous, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you await his arrival.
You have been thinking lately about how to advance your relationship. Maybe get more personal with the information or invite him to hang out outside of your job. The idea makes you queasy because you worry about ruining everything by trying to get more.
You finished the reading and moved on to another class assignment. Spencer came in soon after, his lips quirked up and no jacket on. The weather was getting warmer and it was rather dry. You could absolutely walk around with only a T-shirt and jeans on despite the time.
This, however, drew your eyes to his arms immediately. They weren’t as hairy as you were expecting, his beard and how quickly his hair grew back making you think they would be. He wasn’t very muscley in any way, but your eyes shamelessly lingered on his biceps longer than you wanted.
His skin was littered with freckles and tattoos, black ink that started at his forearm and rose past his t-shirt. You could spend hours looking at them, a couple of them immediately garnering your interest.
“Hey,” You greeted, your eyes snapping up to his face. You were pretty sure he caught you, but he thankfully said nothing. Maybe he was used to his tattoos being looked at, an easy cover considering you weren’t just looking at his tattoos.
“Hey, how’s your night?” He makes his way across the store with ease, eyes staying on you.
“Fine, it’s extra slow tonight.”
“That’s nice,” He’s speaking loud enough that you can hear him from far away. “Are you getting a lot of homework done?”
“Yeah,” You replied. “Finals are coming up and I’m working on all the trivial homework now so I can study and work on the final essays in the library.”
“Is this your final year?”
“Sort of. I’ll be getting my masters after this, but I’m on an automated track for my PhD.”
There’s silence as he grabs a final can and walks up to the front. It’s almost awkward, but you aren’t sure why. It seems like he wants to ask you something, but is struggling to say it.
You start scanning his items, letting him think instead of trying to fill the space with meaningless talk.
“Are you still working here over the summer?”
“I am,” You light up, realizing why he was nervous. It sent a spark through your body to think about him missing you.
God, you wanted him so bad.
“I’m also doing some research work for a professor though,” You add. “I’m honestly too busy to have a job and it will only get worse in the upcoming year, but I need the money and this is the best option for pay and the ability to do homework.”
“Damn,” Spencer sighs. “I’m sorry about that.”
His voice is soft and sincere. It throws you off for a moment, not used to this kind of sympathy. Your social circle consists of Michael, Marie, and other students who were also going through their own shit.
“Oh, it's nothing,” You shyly reply, eyes falling to the counter and lips forming a tight line as your mind races.
“No, seriously,” Spencer insists. “It must be so difficult and yet you never seem like you’re struggling.”
With a large breath, you finally accept his compliment. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” You look up to see that his gaze is already on you and you hold eye contact for an absurd amount of time. You’re sure any onlookers would consider the scene intense.
The pressure of the moment builds, compressing your lungs.
“Um, anyways, your total is $9.54,” You say, breaking the silence and eye contact.
“Oh, right.”
Spencer shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet and you once again admire his arms as he’s busy.
“How was work today?” You ask, wanting to dissipate the intensity of the moment.
“Long.” He answers. “This week is a filming week so I’ve been busy as hell working behind the camera and being in a few videos too. Tomorrow is Friday though and I don’t have to be in till 11 am.”
You hum in acknowledgment, “That sucks.” 
Long ago, when curiosity finally got to you, you looked up Smosh. You realized quickly that the name was familiar because it was quite popular back in OG YouTube. You spent an hour exploring their channels before growing bored and looking up videos with Spencer specifically. It was weird and you could only watch in short increments of time before needing a break. You felt like you were violating his privacy, but struggled to stop when you realized just how funny he was, his humor translating perfectly on camera. He held your attention in so many videos, quick quips making you burst out laughing.
You also note the differences in how he talks to you and how he talks to the camera. Although quiet, he cracks jokes almost every time he speaks. His coworkers seem like friends and you’re sure that helps to comfort any nerves he would have on screen. However, they were obviously trained on-camera talent whereas he simply fell into it because of how much the audience liked him. Around you, he made jokes, but he also seemed to shed the demeanor he developed for videos. Not every sentence was about entertaining.
They were real. Real discussions with real problems no matter how mundane.
“Yeah, but at least we are getting it done. Next week is all at my computer or in meetings,” He adds, tucking away his card and putting his drinks into his backpack. “Anyways, so, when is your finals week?”
“In two weeks technically, but I have a couple of major things going on next week,” You answer, taking a seat on the stool next to you.
“Like what?” Spencer inquires, a light in his eyes that sends a shiver up your spine.
“Well, I’m taking four classes. Two of them have an exam and a final essay. One has a final essay and matching presentation, and then last is a group assignment that also has a presentation and essay.”
“Oh no, not a group assignment,” Spencer interjects, empathy on the tip of his tongue.
“I know,” You agree, nerves falling away as you ease into familiar territory. “People in masters programs are not as bad but they can still be pretty clueless and unhelpful.” You shake your head in frustration, “Like this one guy in my group, he thinks he is so edgy and smart. He takes no criticism but also doesn’t put in enough work. He’s basically made me his personal target and I literally have a group chat with two other members just to rant when he says the stupidest shit.”
“Damn, sounds like an ass.”
“He is,” You groan, closing your eyes. “But we are almost done. We have the essay due next week and then presentations during the finals period.” You grin in relief, “After that, I have two weeks of break before starting my internship with the professor.”
“Are you getting paid for that?” Spencer asks.
The conversation was flowing easily, his interest in your life more evident than ever. It isn’t lost on you that he’s exhibiting every sign of attentive listening and it makes your insides twist. He’s leaning forward, fingers tapping away on the counter as he nods periodically.
“Only in experience,” You sigh. “Money would be great, but I’d rather learn from this and not get paid than not do it at all. I only have to dedicate 12 hours a week to it anyway and that’s not much considering my usual schedule is jam-packed.”
“What’s the study about?” He asks, holding your gaze more often than usual. You find it hard to reciprocate, too nervous to engage in whatever he is doing. You aren’t sure if you could call it flirting because he definitely wasn’t complimenting you, but he was acting differently enough that it was noticeable.
Before you can answer, a customer walks in, the bell ringing in your ears as you look at the brunette in front of you. You expect him to leave like every time before, but he doesn’t move. Although thrown off slightly, you recover quickly and answer his question. When the customer is ready to check out, Spencer simply steps to the side but lingers near. As soon as the man leaves, Spencer is right back where he was and asking you another question that keeps you talking.
He leaves twenty minutes later, eyes half-lidded and tired. You don’t see him that morning, likely because he doesn’t have to go into the office as early as usual. Despite logic, you still miss him.
~~
When Spencer comes in that night, he’s later than usual. Not by much, it’s not even 2 am when he walks through the door. And yet, he’s apologetic.
“Hey, sorry,” He mumbles, coming right up to the counter.
Taken aback, your hands slip from your keyboard and you stand up straight. Fridays were always the busiest weekday and although you did wonder where Spencer was, you didn’t have much time to think about it.
“I was playing a game and totally lost track of time,” He continued, a touch more out of breath than usual. He runs a hand through his short, recently bleached hair.
“No worries,” You say, not quite sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like you had a set time to hang out or do something together. “Need to come get a drink so you can keep going?” You ask, trying to dissipate the awkward feeling that was bubbling up. You didn’t want to let yourself assume more than was reality.
“No, no, I mean,” He stumbles, “I probably will go back to playing, I just—never mind.” He looks down, staring at the counter, specifically the display of scratchers in the built-in glass case.
God, this felt so weird. You shouldn’t have said that, maybe he actually wanted to see you but then you ruined it by making it about the drinks and not you.
“So, what game were you playing?” You ask, the air feeling stuffy.
After a relieved sigh, Spencer goes into the details. You listen intently because not only is he a good storyteller, but you also genuinely care about his interests.
As he rants about some game mechanic, your mind begins to wander. More precisely, you wonder if your affection for him is obvious. Even from the short interaction you had in front of Michael, he could tell there was something more going on. To a stranger would it be obvious? To your friends would it be obvious? Would they say you two would make a cute couple? Or would they not see the chemistry?
“Oh, that’s frustrating,” You say, picking up on the pause in his monologue.
“Eh,” He shrugs, “It’s life.” He leans over the counter, shoulders more relaxed than when he first entered. “I needed a break anyway. So, how’s your night been?”
“Well,” You begin. “I felt rather lost without you.” Sarcasm is dripping off your tongue and Spencer immediately smiles. “My internal clock is all screwed up.”
“You poor thing,” He says, playing along.
“You, sir, need to take your responsibility more seriously,” You laugh, sitting back down in your chair and leaning over to grab your water. “More than half an hour late, I’m sure your body is screaming for a Mountain Dew.”
“Not just a Mountain Dew,” He protests, “A Mountain Dew Kickstart.”
You giggle, just about to add something before the bell rings and your eyes immediately shift to the front door. The patron, dressed in black jeans, a blue hoodie, and a leather jacket, comes up to you immediately. In the fifteen-foot walk between you and the door, you notice he is at least twenty years older than you, skin wrinkling and sagging with age. His clothes are worn, fraying at the seams. When he pushes forward, Spencer immediately slinks away, stepping over to look at the opposite wall of food. The stranger places his hands on the counter and you see dirt under his nails.
When he speaks, his voice is hoarse.
“Two packs of the Marlboro Red,” He commands, his eyes dragging up and down your body. Just as you turn to grab the cigarettes, you can see a smirk forming on his lips.
You sigh, taking a moment to harden your exterior before turning around to scan the packs. These kinds of customers were uncommon for the area, but still came in enough for you to pick them out of a crowd immediately. Usually, they leave easily enough.
“Anything else?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.
“Two of those beef taquitos, hun,” He says, a dirty finger pressing against the warm glass.
You feel a wave of cold at the name but move aside to grab the hot food without any fuss. The sooner he leaves the better. When you hand them over to him, he purposefully moves his hand far enough forward that it touches yours. You are vaguely aware of Spencer in the background, but force your eyes off him.
You can deal with this on your own just fine.
The stranger's eyes linger on your hand and you snatch it away, typing on the tablet to add the taquitos to his total.
“Anything else?” You echo, voice more curt than before.
“Hmm,” He hums contemplatively, putting his finger to his chin like he’s performing. “I suppose I’ll take your number too.”
You fake a laugh, looking into his eyes for only a moment before going back to your screen. “Although I’m flattered, I don’t give my number to strangers.” A few more taps to the device, “Your total is $22.37.”
“Well,” He leans forward and reads off your name from the tag. It sounds sickly coming from his lips. “My name is Mark. Give me your number and then we won’t be strangers.” He pulls out his card to pay, shoving the cigarettes into his pockets.
You give him a forced smile, resting your hand on your heart while you try to let him down gently. “Nice to meet you, Mark, but still. I am not interested.”
“Why?” He questions, “You got a boyfriend?”
You debate telling him you’re in a relationship. Maybe it will get him to leave, maybe he’ll just suggest you cheat. It’s always difficult to tell.
“Dude,” You hear a voice speak up. “You’re holding up the line.”
Mark turns around to see Spencer a few feet behind. You have to crane your neck to see him, the brunette lining up down an aisle. He’s holding some random items, clearly having wandered around the store, paying attention but trying to look like he was merely shopping.
Just before Mark can say anything, Spencer is pushing forward and shouldering past. “Just take the L and move on,” He deadpans, his voice low and foreboding. He stares down the stranger, putting his items onto the counter without even looking away. He’s half a head shorter than the guy, but his presence alone makes up for that tenfold.
“Here’s your receipt,” You quietly interject, holding it out. Half of you was thankful for the interruption, but the other half of you was annoyed. Despite that, you choose to use this opportunity to end the conversation.
With a huff, Mark snatches the receipt from your hand.
“Whatever,” He mumbles to himself, “Bitch.”
The bell dings as he exits, leaving you and Spencer in a loud silence. You let out a shaky breath.
“Oh my god,” Spencer begins. His words draw your gaze away from the door and to him. You can see the concern on his face and the disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” You have a moment to say before he’s talking again.
“What an ass. Do you not have a panic button?”
“I do,” You answer, “But that’s for robberies.”
“Or this!” He protests, gesturing at the door where the man had exited. “You need to stay safe.”
“I was staying safe,” You defend.
“I can’t believe they have you alone at this time of night,” Spencer continues, seemingly not registering your words. “Like, anyone can just come in here!”
“Spencer,” You say, trying to grab his attention.
“You should never have to deal with that kind of–”
“Spencer,” You repeat, finally getting him to shut up.
“What?”
“It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. You didn’t need to help,” You explain, wishing the moment would simply pass so you could move on.
“Just because you can deal with it on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” He argues, his voice softer than before.
His words leave you at a loss, unsure how to respond. He breaks the silence before you can.
“How often does this happen?”
“Not often,” You say, struggling to make any eye contact. “This is a nice area and usually they just give up after a couple of tries.”
Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “Sorry,” He mumbles, the word being pulled from him. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You can see the regret in his eyes. “I got so heated and I should have just made sure you were okay.”
“Oh,” You say, “Thanks.” His apology was unexpected but very appreciated. “I am fine.”
Spencer nods, the moment feeling slightly awkward as the resolution comes. “When does the next person get here?” He asks.
“Four,” You answer, taking a chance to grab your phone and check the time.
2:21
“Damn, that’s a long time.”
“It’s whatever,” You shrug. “It goes pretty quickly since I’m basically just talking to you and then doing homework.”
When the words register for him, there’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile forming on his face. “That’s good,” He replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, “But damn, that’s like an hour and a half away.”
“Yeah,” You sigh, resting back on your stool.
“Can I stay?” He asks, surprising you. “For peace of mine, I mean. I’m just thinking about me leaving and that guy coming right back in. I don’t know, it’s dumb, but I just can’t imagine leaving you right now.”
“Sure,” You reply, interrupting his word vomit once you’ve regained your barrings.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” You shrug, a closed-lip grin forming. “I would love for you to keep me company.”
“Cool,” He says, a smile forming for him.
The moment is awkward and foreign. From an outside perspective, you probably both look like grinning idiots.
“Well,” Spencer begins, breaking the silence, “I’m definitely going to need an energy drink to stay awake.” He looks down at the pile of snacks he brought up. “You keep working, I’m gonna put these away and come back up with stuff I actually want to buy.”
“Roger that,” You reply, giving him a look before turning back to your computer. You don’t get much work done as you wait for him to come back up. You can’t see him in the aisles, but as he moves between aisles, he always looks at you. The security camera screen is just to your right and you can’t help but watch him as he puts away the random collection of items.
You’re nervous, too distracted by his presence to focus on anything. You were somewhat excited to spend such a prolonged period of time with him. However, you were also absolutely terrified that you would make a fool of yourself or simply seem too boring.
“Okay,” You hear him say, already aware that he was making his way back to the front. “All done.” He is now holding three cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and a chocolatey protein bar. “Can I also get a couple of taquitos?”
“What kind?” You ask, reaching forward to start scanning his items.
“Your pick, I guess."
You smile at him and see he’s already grinning at you. You can’t help it, everything he does seems to make you happy beyond logic. “I’ll give you one chicken and one fiesta. The beef is fine and the cheese is not good.”
“Sounds like a plan,” He laughs, pulling out his card to pay and then opening a can and taking a big swig.
“Did that guy getting some make you crave them?” You ask, a joking glint in your eyes as you look up at him.
“Am I a misogynist if I say yes?” He replies, making you let out a laugh that was just a little too loud.
When you hand him the taquitos, he leans back onto the counter, head turned so you can see his side profile. He has the drink in one hand and the paper bag of taquitos in another. He takes a bite, a comfortable silence falling over you both. You occupy your time by looking down at your computer and mindlessly clicking around while you try to think of things to talk about. 
“How was work?” You say, deciding on that as the least risky option.
“Good,” He shrugs. “We finished a little late and traffic meant I didn’t get home till almost 7 pm.”
“Oh jeez,” You groan. “My commute is pretty easy in the morning because I go opposite the traffic.”
“I’m jealous,” He replies, smiling at you. “Do you live far from here?”
A shock of electricity shoots through your body. “Somewhat. This isn’t my local convenience store, but I’m not that far.”
Spencer nods, “This isn’t mine either.”
“What?”
He turns to look at you, eyebrows perked up like he didn’t just say something ridiculous.
“This isn’t your nearest convenience store,” You repeat slowly. When he nods, you ask, “So why do you come here?”
Spencer laughs, realizing his mistake. “The one nearest me is literally down the street, but they don’t always have these,” He answers, holding up the pineapple orange mango-flavored drink. “This store is only a few more minutes away and it always has them.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s because you buy our stock,” You joke. “I’ve literally had my boss ask about why we are selling so many more.”
“Really?” He gasps, leaning in closer. “I used to only make the walk here if the closer one was out, but four months ago I just stopped bothering.”
The fact that four months is when you started working is not lost on you. Feeling confident, you add, “What about when you get coffee? I’m sure the other one has coffee.”
“True.” He looks slightly caught off guard, eyes scanning the store before speaking, “I only come to get coffee here if I’m too lazy to make it at home and running early enough to…” He pauses for a second, the sentence closing as if it wasn’t the planned ending. Finally, he adds, “To see you.”
You hum, looking down because your face is warm and you’re at a loss for words. Luckily, he’s too nervous to look at you either. You feel tingly, knowing full well that this is a special moment that you’ll look back on if you end up dating.
“Anyways,” Spencer breaks the silence. Before he can say anything else, he yawns, mouth opening wide.
“You know you can go home, right?” You laugh. When you look down at your computer, you see it’s about half an hour later. “No one has come in and I doubt anyone will before Marie gets here.”
“No, no,” He protests. “And anyway, aren’t I making time fly?”
“I suppose,” You grin. “You are quite great company.”
Spencer flashes you a smile that makes your insides twist. You wonder if he is picking up on all this. If he can tell that you’re interested in him.
“I’m honored.”
“You should be.” You sarcastically quip. “I have high standards for the company I keep close to me.”
“Is this close?” He contemplates aloud. “I’ve never even seen you without your black polo, black pants, and nonslip shoes.”
You laugh, looking down at your clothes. “Don’t you like this fit?”
“I mean, I love it,” Spencer starts, “But I don’t know how much you’re serving day to day.”
“I serve even when I’m only going to class,” You protest. “Maybe when I’m done with finals, I’ll grace you with my out-of-work personality.”
Spencer grins, “I’d be honored.”
You’re on high alert, knowing exactly what was happening.
“You should be,” You echo, unsure of what else to say. It doesn’t matter though. You could say anything and Spencer would find you charming.
“Maybe we can go to competing stores and graffiti them,” He suggests, long since turned around so he can look at you fully.
“Pft,” You laugh. “I don’t want to get arrested with you the first time we hang out.”
“You don’t? That’s usually my go-to!”
“Well, my go-to is food. Or the arcade.”
“The arcade?” He questions. “All this time I’ve been talking about games and you’ve never mentioned that you’re also a gamer?”
“I am not!” You protest. “Definitely not compared to you. You’re a savant and I’m the fool.”
“I doubt that,” He replies, a grin never leaving his face as he leans in closer. “I say arcade so I can check out your skills.”
“Deal,” You say, leaning onto the counter so you are only a few feet away. “The arcade it is.”
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cowgirlcherrie · 8 months
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CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST .ᐟ chapter three: LEMONHEAD ゚+..。*゚+skater! ellie x fem! reader
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a/n: hello my loves new chapter of CMIYGL which is one of my favorite chapters, is one setting focused and just good vibes that slightly become sour at the end. But sit back (it's a lengthy one) so enjoy babis
warnings/content: MDNI Partying, alcohol, drunkness, bruises (just skating injuries), kissing, smoking, lots of swearing, sexual jokes, petnames (babe, mama, etc), arguing, throwing drinks on people,
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✧˖°.⤹masterlist. prev. next chapter
“Yo! Get the fuck off the front lawn!”
Ellie shouted at the group of stragglers surrounding the front yard of her shared house. It was typical for this to happen at the E.J.D residence. The trio couldn’t afford to get slammed with another fine knowing well enough that the last one was certainly not paid and their rather annoying neighbors would be vast to dial 9-11 like their lives depended on it. 
Now, this was not Project X.
but it was damn near close. The whiskey tasted better when it was sour. Tequila is better with lime. A beer? Just never mind leave it in the fridge. Jesse wouldn’t say he was a party animal, and neither would Ellie or Dina. Jesse was purely just a former child actor reject that grew to drown himself in partying and near-death experiences. Using his deep-webbed emotions to compensate for the fact that he never got to have a childhood of his own. Until the liquor ran dry and nothing suddenly mattered. He could crack his skateboard on his skull now and parties were an escape. 
There were no parties like a E.J.D party. 
The bass of the music was so loud, it could be heard through the cracks of the window and wood, seeping out the loosened edges – bouncing against the concrete. Ellie thought Jesse’s interpretation of a party to be very different from her own. She wanted a few friends meanwhile he invited half of LA and that half certainly brought a plus one; so really it was a majority.
You coincidentally, got separated from Cat, naturally inviting her on a whim for comfort. Her hand had gotten too loose giving some drunk girl the perfect opportunity to swipe her body in between the two of you, losing her face and her touch in the crowd. Your leather jacket was vacant from your shoulders, gracefully taken by Dina who briefly managed to whisk you off into the kitchen. You learned the rather strikingly beautiful girl to be one of the owners of the house. Flashing you a sweet smile and an arm squeeze. But like a puff of air, she vanished and was nothing but a memory. 
Now you were stuck in the kitchen. Bodies squeezing you in like a cage, loose alcohol tempting you and tormenting you for just…one..sip. To feel the carcass of the un-chilled liquid down your throat as it swirled and tingled at your chest. Burning heart aflame and the devil on your shoulder wrapped your hand around the red cup pouring vodka to the brim. 
You were on the hunt to find Ellie, likewise, the dark-haired roommate of your own.
Cat, on the other hand, took advantage of her solo moment. It was a great opportunity for her to briefly make conversation with Ellie and disappear into the neon lights like it never happened. Of course, this business pertained to you – no other reason for her to have a chat and more so one to keep it brief. She wants Ellie to do whatever it takes to make sure you weren’t a sobbing mess by the end of the night. Especially considering how deep Ellie would get into alcohol on a night like this. It was better she gave the warning now before she got devious.
Her stiletto-shaped nails, dug into Jesse’s shoulder as the man rocked his body slightly to the beat of the music. Vibrant Solo cup in his hand spilling onto the slippery wood,  Any stranger would have thought the conversation was serious between the two. Perhaps flirting, estranged lovers who had a history in the making. Cat played her game well.
“Oh! Jesse, It’s so good to see you! The party is phenomenal, how’s your mom?” Cat’s voice ran sweet like a tasty red velvet cupcake with too much additive sugar frosting. She was boasting to him. Flashing her perfectly braces-made pearly whites, pushing her boobs closely together in the black lacy corset top she was wearing — she could get the world.
“Awh– shit, Cat Pham. . . at my party? Girllll I haven’t seen your ass since senior year, braces are off too” Jesse slurred his words, similar to a town drunk at a liquor store. Hand reaching out to Cat’s lips to which she smacked them away hiking a smack to the side of his head.  His eyes were droopily low, almost like a sad puppy –  and he was smiling; Lost out of his mind. 
He was correct, after senior year happened, Ellie and Cat broke up – lovers departed and the friend group spread across California like they were fleeing the country. Cat knew he was the perfect one to ask.
“Mommy is great! You know she asked about you…she wanted more of your mom’s special recipes” Jesse smiled, if he was being honest he couldn’t feel his face but aside from the scrambled soup that was his brain he could tell he reached his high. Words piling out of his mouth almost like throw-up. 
“That’s great, Jesse. Where’s Ellie I need to speak to her?” Cat was quick to shut the boy up, leaning her body closer to his shoulder. Jesse backed away cheeks flushed. 
“Uhhhh” Jesse laughed “I think she’s outside I don’t really know” Jesse slurred again, pulling the cup up to his lips with a goofy smile on his face. Slurping the liquor like it was juice.
Clearly drunk Jesse didn’t know the answer. Making Cat sigh and roll her head with a soft POP of the air socket between her neck bones. 
“So did Rico’s Zumiez get any new hires?” Cat instead was bypassing the chit chat going straight for the kill. Attacking fill-in questions head first. 
“Uhhhh yeah like 3 I think. . . butttt Rico is sick Cat (burps) excuse me, his lungs are all fucked up from smoking, doctors keep having to pump his lungs free of liquid. We are closing soon, relocating somewhere else” 
Cat’s heart dropped at this information. That shop was dear to local skaters, even herself. Rico helped Cat start her business. The Italian man helping her build a tattoo portfolio is so great —  it would be hard for the businesses to say no. Rightfully so she got hired as an apprentice at Sooleyinks on Main Street. But she couldn’t do it all without him.
“I’m sorry . . .”
The climate was getting somber,
“No…No, Imma miss him for real, the new hires have been a pain in my ass won’t miss ‘em tho” Cat’s ears picked up at Jesse saying new hires. Watching as he eyed his drink, snatching it to ask another question. No minuscule distractions – she wanted to get head-on.
“Any of ‘em girls?” Cat whispered, almost holding the cup as leverage over the boy.
“Yeahhhhh. . . like one, why– trouble in paradise?” Jesse laughed pushing his hand’s palm flat against the wall. 
“No-god no everything is fine,” Cat reassures, swishing Jesse’s cup in her hand “Is she gay?”
“Pft, Alana? Helllll~ noo that girl is as straight as a fuckin’ pencil – at least so I think” Jesse paused quirking an eyebrow at Cat who only nodded her head with her lips slightly parted. 
“Let’s quit the chit-chat, I know Ellie likes y/n who is my roommate…” Cat blurted out making Jesse’s eyes widen his eyes:  pretend-shock – confusion filled his face. Responses delayed 
“SHE’S YOUR ROOMMATE?” The black-haired boy shouted, pretending to sound shocked, almost as if he didn’t know this knowledge prior “Oh~ . . . she’s your roommate~” he corrected bringing a hand up to his mouth. 
“You knew that didn’t you?” Cat pushed tilting her head at the boy in front of her.
“Definitely no—” Cat pinched Jesse in the stomach
“Ow!” 
“Okay! Yes I knew, I mean check her comments you were like the top comment on her 3 recent that’s why I liked them”
Cat cursed under her breath. Crossing her fingers and hoping that magically you didn’t see the comments on her pictures from high school that Ellie had left. She’d make sure to archive them when she had stable service. 
“Does she kn. . .” Jesse abruptly stopped speaking mid-sentence seeing the way that Cat was shaking her head in disappointment. Jesse quickly understood, even though he was drunk his brain tinted with nothing but incoherent la la la’s he was able to muster up the understanding that Ellie was cowardly hiding her way from even letting the words slip between her lips. 
“That’s why I am looking for Ellie” Cat confessed, waving her hands in the air as she spoke, slaming her matte cherry coated lips at Jesse who seemed rather distracted. His eyes focused past Cat’s head.
“Why…are you doing that?” Cat winced, turning around to follow his field of vision.
“Oh shit!” Jesse mumbled 
“Oh yeah…shit” Cat responded meekly, picking up the solo cup to her lips downing the rest of Jesse’s liquid. 
“This is bad”
The two were staring at you in the kitchen who had been touched by the graceful spirit of your crush who was nagging at your heartstrings. Pulling each muscle making it tense and release. Thumping matches the pace of the music — slightly louder. The auburn beauty gave a rather silly drunk smile at you as her arms hooked around your body like a mother cradling her newborn. You could smell her cologne, a clean scent barely almost there, musky with the faint smell of trees and a strong eucalyptus. Lips casting wet-sloppy drunk kisses to the side of your head as you leaned into her touch. 
“Pretty girl! You made it!” Ellie shouted in your ear giving another kiss emphasizing the mwah sound as her lips touched your head. Maybe it was the liquor in her system making her act the way she was, but she was certain, sober she would not be able to even glance at you.
Confidently, at-least.
“What…you thought I was gonna be a no-show!” You laughed, bringing the cup in your hands up to your glossed lips, lip liner shining astonishingly under the forever-changing LED’s. Ellie shook her head, watching as your lipstick stained the white lining of the cup, licking her lips in thirst. Sudden dryness filled her tongue — liquids disappearing as she wanted nothing more than a taste. She was thirsty — really, really, thirsty. 
“Whatcha drinkin’ ?” Ellie pushed, her eyes slowly staring into yours, her lips running against her bottom lip repeatedly. You could see her pupils dilated. Black circle getting wider…and wider against her green. Ellie gently brought her hand up to your cup, fingers wrapped around your own as she pulled it away from your lips. 
“Vodka, a splash of cranberry juice before some bitch snatched the bottle” You joked, sticking a tongue out: pretending to be annoyed at your luck and circumstances. 
“May I?”
Ellie pointed at your cup, her ringed fingers brushing against your bare ones, as she softly ran her thumb over your fingers. 
“Mhm,” you mumbled shaking your head ‘yes’ making Ellie push the cup away from its positioning at your lips. Twirling the cup around until it was on the side of your lipstick stain. Her lips rested in your lip imprint as she brought the liquid to her pouty-full lips wincing at the bitterness and pain after a single taste.
“This was nasty…yeah no we are getting you something better”
Ellie delicately intertwined her left hand with your own. Locking it with a tight squeeze of your left hand as well and pulling you behind her to walk. Her grip was different from Cat’s, it expressed protection and urgency. You knew she wasn’t going to let you go or let a drunk body come between you. Ellie reeled you into her back, using her free hand to reach behind her and caress the fabric of your skirt and pull you closer until your chest was at her back. 
She helped to slow your heart down. The faces of the dancing strangers faded away as all you could focus was on her. How she looked under the current purple and blue transitioning LED’s. Loose strands of hair flopped into her face. A fitted hat was on her head, vintage flat-brimmed, and turned to face the back of her head so the brim was away from her face; similar to the frat boy style. Her outfit was loose, baggy like you expected it. The 90s-fitted low-rise jeans paired with a GOLF WANG graphic t-shirt. 
You thought it was bold of her to wear white at a party where people suddenly had butter flingers, liquids quick to spill to the floor and even cling to fabric, alcohol staining as it settled. But shocking enough there was not a single stain on her shirt. It was clean — slightly wrinkled you could tell she didn’t iron but perfect enough. 
Eventually, your walking came to a standstill. In front of the alcohol table as Ellie gave a tap at your waist before letting both of her hands leave your being. Her hands spiraled around the scarlet solo cup. 
“You trust me?” Ellie quickly asked. Quirking an eyebrow as her eyes sparked. Almost diamond pure as her fingers were hovering over a big Casamigos Blanco tequila bottle. Her rings fiddling against the glass of the exposed bottle waiting for a response from you.
“Depends…” you shoot back, tilting your head as your eyes glanced over the Casa bottle. Knowing well the alcohol was considerable for the strangest of strange blackouts and would have one questioning how they even made It home come sunrise.
High risk, potentially blacking out; high reward, a good fucking time.
“You tryna get me drunk?”
“I think you are confusing drunk with loose. Miss Svedka drinker. You’ll be fine. I don’t think I pour that heavy…personally” Ellie shrugged, flipping the cap off the bottle almost like a mixologist. Pour a good amount of tequila into your cup “More fruity or more sour?” 
“Fruity…what kind of question is that?” You jabbed playfully, letting out a soft laugh escape your chest — natural and free as Ellie did the same.
“You didn’t drink beer, right? liquor before beer you’re in the clear. . .” Ellie ran the saying through to you waiting for you to finish the saying. Her mouth agape waiting for the words to pool out of your lips. Cementing her feet on the hardwood floors. She planned on going off to grab her personal favorite fruit juice from the fridge. Her delicacy to you. 
“Beer before liquor never been sicker!” You complete the phrase — Ellie nodding her head watching as you pretended to take your cup and imitate throwing up into it. “I don’t drink beer”
“Good, don’t” Ellie laughed, “I’m gonna be right back hold this for a sec” Ellie pushed the red cup into your hands. Not even giving you a full minute for you to register what she had said. 
You weren’t sure why Ellie personally treating you with a drink of your own brought chattering butterflies into your stomach. She was providing such care and rather you drink something better than something cheap off the table. Ellie never failed to be gentle with you — it was even more so now that there was alcohol involved in your exchange. It felt more intimate, more personal like a ball of energy building up between the two of you yearning for something to happen.
You couldn’t linger in your own thoughts for a second as Ellie returned with an Ocean Spray branded Cran-Mango juice. Ellie took the juice pouring another half of the cup with the juice. Briefly took the cup to her lips tasting where the Casamigos and Cran-Mango blended, the substance pooling in her mouth sending a gentle yet bitter taste against the buds of her tongue. Ellie took the initiative to pour more. Taking yet again another sip to taste test it.
“Okay…better” Ellie nodded wiping the dripping liquid from her lips with the tip of her ringed finger. “Here let me know”
Ellie handed the cup back to you, swinging the fruit juice in her hand in nervousness watching as you brought the drink up to your lips. The fruit carving the liquor far, not only blending nicely but you barely tasted it, and that was your kind of drink.
“Mhm,” you groaned out in satisfaction as Ellie’s lips curled into a smile. 
“Mmm, what. . .?” Ellie pestered, smiling at you sheepishly. Almost cockily with much pride.
“This is good”
“WOO told you, babe!” Ellie laughed, almost jumping in excitement. All your head could think about was her calling you babe. The way the words rang off her tongue, silky like satin blankets almost as if it was natural. Your cheeks warmed up from not only the chilled liquid in your cup but the feelings that were stirring in your stomach. 
“Let’s join the party now shall we, I hope you can dance” Ellie playfully nudged your shoulder as her body suavely swiveled around you taking hold of your hand, almost as if the two were made for each other. Her elbows were visible from her short-sleeve; bruised up, hues of purple and blue decorating her body like a roughened kiss.
“Bold of you to assume I can’t” you shot back, shouting over the music as Ellie head you to the basement where the main party was at. No Idea by Don Toliver blasting through the large speakers as the crowd bounced to the bass of the music, Ellie even finding herself rocking her body to the music as she dragged you to an open gap in the crowd. The two of your bodies against each other as she grabbed at your waist.
Occasionally taking a sip of the contents from your cup — not even bothering to get her own. The two of you enter a stage of blissfully drunk. A sip and the tug of your waist, slight pressure applied through her fingertips as the peak of the song arose. Ellie dragged her dreamy haze away from you as she heard her name being shouted repeatedly.
ELLIE! ELLIE! 
Her vision redirected to a group of skaters she skated frequently. 2 guys, drowning in their clothes, backpacks on their backs, and decks in their hands. Sneakers beat up as if they were ran over many many times. The guys waved the girl over pointing at a skateboard with the I.C logo on the back of the board. Your eyes, were almost like a worried deer looking up at Ellie whose body was frozen. Looking past you instead of at you. 
“I don’t think I ever told you, congratulations” You whisper, low enough for her to hear your voice as she leaned down for your lips to almost meet her ear. 
“Thank you” Ellie laughed, amidst her buzz giving a small kiss on your cheek. Her own was beet red, seeping through her freckles from the heat and the alcohol she was inhaling by the minute. Times like this Ellie was grateful for the lights being low to where no one could truly see how badly she was blushing under your touch. “Look I have to talk to some friends. . . if you want to come you can, but like -no pressure-like I get it if you don’t want to I’—”
“Ellie” you interrupted her
“What”
“You’re rambling” you blurt out making Ellie scrunch up her nose in frustration. 
“Sorry”
“N-no no, it’s okay…it’s kinda cute actually” you confess dropping your head slightly, feeling waves of embarrassment washing over you. Not being able to contain the emotions you were feeling. 
“So you’ll come?” Ellie held her arm out giving a flesh display of her tattoo in all its glory, the ink fresh and completed. You gladly took her arm into your own, flicking your hand up to gesture to her to lead the way and she did. Almost like a knight in shining armor, she guided you to the corner. Away from all of the people, the outskirts of the main crown that was less busy.
Daping up the skaters with a hug as they cracked their own jokes pretending to wack Ellie with the board. You took it these were her friends. That wasn’t of course Dina whom you learned with time, or her other roommate that apparently was Jesse. Their gaze shifted to you almost startled; gleaming with interest and attraction, but their smile was inviting. The men had buzzcut designs dyed into them. One with flames the other with completely red with a black spider in the center on the back, glimmering under the lights. 
“— Ellie you’re rude as fuck, whose this?” One of them suggested pointing at you as you clung to her arm. Ellie’s arm tensing at the mention of yourself “Uh—this is. . .”
“Y/n! Hi, nice to meet you all” Maybe it was the liquid talking, you suddenly had the courage to get everything off of your chest. Bubbly personality peaking right through. Your hand, naturally covered in bangles and small rings out for them to take. The smile on your glossed lips was charming, giving an invitation for anyone to be sweet to you. A Cotton candy smile. 
“Oh she formal” one of them whispered
“Keep her”
“I’m Oliver but you can call me OB, to your left is P.J and we hug over here mama” One of the guys opened his arms out gesturing for you to bring it in for a hug to which Ellie was quick to swipe her hand in front of you to halt you from walking.
“Yeah, she’s not hugging you” Ellie spoke up, pushing you into her side with her hands. 
Oliver put his hands down, rolling his eyes at Ellie’s sudden rough attitude. “So you skate or… what’s your deal?” P.J. this time spoke up taking a sip from his near-empty tallboy of twisted tea.
“Uhh…” you paused nervously laughing. “I’m from New York, just moved here for college. Learning how to skate thanks to Miss Hollywood over here” You joked tugging Ellie backward at her cap. 
“Ohh we got an east coast baddie in the house~” Oliver taunted making P.J give him a side eye.
“Dude you’re annoying —“
“No you—”
“Bitch I will—”
“Are you twins?” You question bluntly. The two stopped their bickering to look at you.
“What gave it away the hair? No, we just shaved our hair and got matching moles on our asses” Oliver said with a serious tone, his voice vacant from any emotion. Their eyes stared deep into your soul as he watched the way your smile faded.
“Oh. . .”
“Just playing with you mama, yeah we’re twins I’m the oldest by the way don’t listen to anything this knucklehead says” O.B confesses,
His statement made the group burst out laughing. Including yourself who rolled your eyes at their childish behavior. In times like this you thought about how people’s friends were often a reflection of themselves. Thinking back to why Ellie had a childish rebellious nature of her own. 
You figured O.B. and P.J. definitely played a part into her mannerisms.
“Oh Ellie I like them, she’s cool” 
“So. . .” P.J. cleared his throat and reached the board, setting the slender wood onto the hardwood floor of the basement.
“Wanna show us a trick?” P.J suggested, taking another swig at his almost empty can
Resting his foot against the edge of the deck, kicking it in your direction. 
Your head tilted to Ellie who was by your side, the redhead gave you a smile and a nod of encouragement. “Go ahead” Ellie whispered, carefully keeping her voice low to give you free reign to make moves. 
“Actually, we’ll teach you something — probably better than what your girl is showing you anyways” P.J. spoke up again watching the brief and small exchange you and Ellie shared.
“Oliver stabilize, let’s do a tic-tac, simple won’t make you crack your skull open. I imagine you are drunk?” P.J. questioned, quirking an eyebrow up at you. To which you nodded at him and he nodded back, the silent exchange brief but P.J.’s delivery was understanding.
Oliver was crouched down almost at eye level with the board, his hands at the edges of the wood, fingers gripping onto the grip tape. His fingertips were covered in bandaids, small scares going up his arm — clearly from one-too-many falls.
“Ellie you’re spotting, waist duty…puh-lease~” P.J. sang as he whistled standing in front of you in the corner. 
The music by now in the back had shifted from Don Toliver to Drake’s Nonstop. The crowd getting low to the music meanwhile yourself, Ellie and the skater group stood in the corner nook with the couches, often where couples would move away to break from the chaos of the main party.
It was spacious — a lot of room for you to do a trick and not have to worry about bumping your head, or hitting a coffee table for that matter.
“You skate goofy-footed?” Oliver asked, debating if he had to flip the direction of the boards nose. Seeing the way your face scrunched in confusion, O.B bit at his lips realizing he was asking the wrong person “Ellie?”
“No, she rides regular” 
“Ok so take one step on the board, both feet try to relax, do not put your feet together, you see where these screws are” P.J pointed to the screws at the bottom of the board the 3 at the left side and the three at the right.
“Place your left foot here,” his fingers pointing to the corresponding left screws “right foot over there” repeating the action. 
“You want your feet to be at your riding — standard position”
You took a step onto the board, as Ellie held onto your hips to prevent you from sliding. Your hands ghosting over hers, with a slight grip as you felt an odd shift at your balance with the sudden wheel’s beneath you. Ellie on the other hand was whispering a soft “I got you” repeatedly, her breath fanning against the back of your neck, just enough to give a shiver up your spine. 
Getting your feet comfortable, P.J and O.B cheered you on, like-wise other skaters who were sitting around clapping their hand against the back of the board, to cheer you on. You smiled sheepishly looking back down to Oliver at the floor who lifted a thumbs up at you.
“Okay great, you’re doing perfect! So now you are gonna push your weight slightly over the board bend your knees a little,” Ellie moved a hand down to slap at your knee making your body jump at the feeling of her sudden chilled touch. Implying to bend your knees to which you did.
P.J continued speaking, almost in full lecture mode, “because your hips are gonna rock, twisting at the nose of your board”
“Give it a try”
“You got it,” Ellie encouraged giving a slight grab at your waist, her fingers slightly bunching at the fabric. You slowly started moving your hips, Oliver letting go so you can try the trick. You were breezing through, feet moving at a great speed, hips at the right position — or maybe it was because of Ellie’s hands guiding you, but you were tic-tacing across the basement tile of the corner making the skaters in the corner cheer you on. 
“OKAY MISS EAST COAST” O.B shouted! As you stood up fully to clap, Ellie pausing you to lift you off the board spinning you around. Pulling your body into a hug as your feet met the ground. 
“Okay Lil’ Tony Hawk don’t get ahead of yourself now” P.B shouted playfully. 
“You should skate with us sometime, considering how good you learn and pick up these skills, we could use your energy at the park” O.B suggested giving you a gentle smile, meanwhile P.J nodded picking his board up from the floor. 
“I mean, if I’m not working the days you go I’ll totally check in” You smile giving the duo a fist bump. You looked beautiful under the light, the long saturated lights dawning upon you with delight as your makeup, soft and dewy glistened in the light.
You turned around to be face-to-face with Ellie, who cutely scrunched up her face at you, opening her arms slightly. Naturally you leaned your body in to give her another hug to which Ellie took it. Sudden adrenaline pumping through her veins, she was almost nervous that you could hear the faint beating of her heart. Not like she was complaining though. 
“Look at you my little rookie!” Ellie whispered lowly into your ear. 
“Making me look good n’ shit, you swear you never done this before?”
“Swear” 
“God you are amazing, I could just kiss you right now!” Ellie blurted out, with a slight rasp in her voice. It was too late for Ellie to take her words back, it felt almost natural as if this was everyday for her. With you she felt at home, and at ease. 
“You can, but I actually have to pee” you whispered back with a laugh, your head falling to hit her shoulder. Laughter raking through your body; almost shaking. 
“upstairs second floor and  first door on your right” 
“Thank you!” You smile briefly as you turn on your heels to walk away, “Bye guys you were fun, I’ll be back…hopefully” You yelled over the music as the skaters waved to you. O.B and P.J with the dorkies smiles on their faces as they watched you go.
“Good job mama! Hope to see you hitting the parks soon!”
You ran off to the stairs, your body disappear merging into the bodies of people. Ellie on the other hand let out a prolonged sigh looking at the boys in front of her, to which P.J and O.B were already giving her a knowing look.
“On your simp shit, she bad tho snatch her before your competitions grabby hands will” O.B. suggested pretending to be a crab claw with his hands and clawing his hands at Ellie’s shirt. Then making graphic imagery with his hands. P.J. laughed at his brother’s actions, Ellie only rolling her eyes at the twins. 
“Fuck you!”
“If you fumble we’ll never forgive you” 
⋆。°✩౨ৎ✩°。⋆
The bathroom was your escape for the moment. Brought you back to reality and grounded you from everything that seemed unreal, you were definitely sobering up from all that you drank. As your cup was discarded and tossed in the trash before your meeting of O.B and P.J.
Flushing the toilet quickly you made your way back to the counter to wash your hands. Tilting your head every now and then at the feeling of the pressure condensing in your head. Almost feeling airheaded and lightheaded. The post-drinking headache coming along swiping through you like the Grim Reaper.
Taking a generous amount of soap only to realize the pump was damn near stuck and the bottle was almost out, sucking your teeth in agitation, having no choice but to unscrew the lid and tap the bottle against your palm to get the soap out. 
Amidst the base of the music peeking through the vents and gaps in the bathroom, two voices were loud against the door. Sounded like an old couple in an argument. One voice is a lot softer the other one raspier and aggressive almost attacking the softer voice. Making your nose scrunch trying to screw your head away from being nosy. After carefully putting the top on off the bottle – and a terrible job of minding your own business you flicked the faucet up, warm-hot water gushing into the sink, as you washed your hands humming the tune of the song. Snapping a piece of paper towel off the roll and wiping your head dry, hitting the faucet with your napkin before throwing it in the trash.
You took a sharp inhale, taking in the fumes from the air-freshener of the wall, your hands entangled in each other as you looked at your appearance in the mirror.
Make up still intact? Check.
No broken nails? Check.
Outfit still fine? Triple check.
Drunk? Oh more than a fucking check. 
BANG!
You jolted, being brought out of your own thoughts as you heard the sound of a loud shove against the door, arguing you heard prior getting louder and louder. Tip toeing your way to the door, pressing your ear against the thick wood trying to hear the voices amidst the music.
“I told you to fucking tell her and you didn’t”
“Don’t piss me off I’m doing it!”
“Well you got 5 fucking minutes! Anderson walked through the door, if that gives you any motivation”
Who the fuck was Anderson? You pushed your head away from the door thinking about who the two voices could have been talking about. Now that you were listening – to which you definitely shouldn’t have, inquiry filled you. The voices were more feminine, one a little groggier than the other. 
“Like hell, I’m letting Abby touch her! Are you joking? We can’t do this right now and you said you would help me yet your fucking yelling at me!”
“I’ve had it with you! You didn’t grow at all you immature little—”
SPLASH!
You brought a hand up to your mouth in confusion as the water hit the door. Fortunate that you were on the other side, you looked down at your sneakers to see a sudden pool of water seeping onto the bathroom floor tile, traveling underneath the door. But that definitely wasn’t vodka, or urine either the mystery liquid slightly tinted brown. You heard a slight growl from the other side. It didn’t sound too good, at all. 
“You tell her, or I will you got 24 hours or this deal is done!”
With that, your hand reached for the doorknob unlocking the door to reveal two familiar faces near and dear to you. 
Ellie and Cat.
Like two deers stuck in headlights, the two stopped speaking to each other, to now face you in shock. Cat quickly tucked her solo cup behind her and threw it somewhere in the hallway. 
This time you took back your mental note about Ellie’s shirt considering the white fabric blend now was drenched in a brown toffee splotch at the center. 
“Y/n! I’ve been looking for you the whol—”
“Do you know each other or. . .” 
You looked at Cat, not missing a beat as you turned to look at Ellie. Ellie turned her head to look at Cat with pleading eyes. Smoothly going unnoticed by you as the two spoke up over each other. 
“No”
“No”
The two said at the same time, making you tilt your head to the left in confusion. They were rushing to say no simultaneously almost as if they couldn’t control the urge to say it, caught in a lie your head shouted.
Caught. In. A. Lie
 
Cat was looking at you with a wide smile. Masking the scowl she had when you opened there, almost as if there was nothing wrong.
“Explain your shirt then?” you nudged pointing at Ellie’s shirt. You were getting suspicious, head on the fox, whose slyness rather slipped – they got careless and now they were paying the price.
“Uh…”
“Some couple apparently was walking by if you heard arguing apparently Ellie, right your name is Ellie?” Ellie nodded as Cat continued “tried to break it up so they would leave and the girlfriend threw the drink accidentally hitting Ellie in the process. I was looking for the bathroom and that’s how I saw her. Small conversation” Cat smiled 
Her lie was clean, 100% believable considering her hands were free of any cup and she played it off as she didn’t know Ellie. Ellie’s eyes ran in disbelief staring at the girl as Cat gave a glance back almost screaming You Owe me!  
You also weren’t oblivious or ignorant for that matter deciding to leave it alone. 
“Uh huh…” you nodded as you prepared to step out only for Ellie to push you in, followed by herself, Wind catching your throat.
“Thanks for uh the help Cat, we need like a minute -thank you” Ellie’s back was turned towards you as she closed the door in Cat’s face, hitting the lock and letting out a breath before turning to face you with a smile. Her smile dropped upon seeing the look on your face. Almost as if you were lost in your head–stricken daze as your mind was talking but your mouth was not.
“You alright? You don’t look so well”
Ellie’s eyes squinted at how unsettled you looked. Almost as if you were about to vomit. Looking a little green. You weren’t sure why, but the butterflies you got when you saw Ellie transitioned to anxiety. Like something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Your stomach curls in knots attacking each other like a parasite almost as if you ate something bad. 
Something was wrong.
“Yeah. . .” You whispered breathily lying through your teeth. A hand shifting over to your stomach as a way to ease the sudden pain.
“Here sit”
Ellie tapped the open space of the counter of the sink you walked to the main sink. 
“You mind if I, uh…” Ellie pointed at her shirt, to which you shook your head. For a second giving the girl privacy, looking away from her undressing in front of you.
Ellie slid the shirt off of her body leaving her in a bright blue sports bra. Her body, rather fit was slightly bruised in some areas. Like her hips, or her back. They looked painful making you wince in pain. Ellie’s gaze followed your own as her hands touched against the messy hues of purple.
“Skate fails.” 
“You don’t take care of yourself?” you whisper bringing a hand out to touch the bruise making Ellie suck her teeth and hiss at you.
“As best as I could.”
Ellie prolonged a look at you. Grabbing onto your fingers to stop you from touching. 
Her mind was screaming kiss! Kiss! Kiss! With her face leaning to your own. She could smell the sweetness of your perfume. Like the perfect bite almost harmonic to her. Wedding bells singing.
Almost as if someone snapped their fingers in front of her face she jolted away.
“I’ll heal up jus’fine the ointment is working . . .I guess”
“You don’t give yourself any love,” You started, making Ellie’s heart grow softer. Growing paints made her eyebrows knit together in sadness.
“What makes you think that” Ellie kept her voice low, somewhere between a whisper and a mumble. Bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of her neck
You moved your body closer to the counter, leaning closer to where she stood, taking her arm into your own hands, and tugging her forward like a ragdoll. Ellie stood before you, hawk-eyed as you brought your glossed lips down to her arm applying a kiss to the disappearing bruise on her bicep. Triggering a response in her – Ellie abruptly jumped, chapped lips separated. This time you lifted up her wrist, kissing the edge of her knuckles.
“That’s how I know” 
Where her green met your very own, sparkles in her eyes, as her loving gaze couldn’t diverge. It reminded you of when she poured you the drink. An intimate moment but this time the two of you were alone and there was no one to stop you. 
“I don’t deserve you,” Ellie whispered softly, bringing a hand up to move your hair out of your face. The look on her face was almost guilty as if she now entered the emotional stage of her drunkness
“How do you know what I deserve,” you whisper holding onto her arm and giving her room to speak her mind. 
“You don’t know who I am” 
“I can learn, I-I Ellie, You can’t see what I see” you reasoned. It was almost as if Ellie was backtracking. Self-sabotaging for all of the soft moments you made. Wanting nothing more than to close herself off and be alone. She knew the minute she lied to you, and you still trusted her that she was no good. Ellie felt greedy sinfully taking a bite of something so precious and delicate that she was going to destroy it with her greed and recklessness. 
Maybe that was the part about liking someone and desiring them. For some time she thought she could never feel an emotion other than lust until she met you. You changed her greed, her desire, her energy vampire nature to be loved. She wanted to do right by you. And even so, she still failed, Cat was right, she didn’t change.
“You wouldn’t like what you see”
“But your different no? If we’re talking about pasts we all got one. It’s how we move forward that matters” you continue, almost lecturing the girl in front of you.
Ellie nodded
“I-...”
“Shh”  
The moment was tender. Silence fills the bathroom, the bass from the music filling the void where their voices would have filled.
“Your lips look a little dry” you confessed, making Ellie furrow her eyebrows, her eyes flickering to your own seeing the way the gloss shined underneath the bathroom overhead light. It was a total off- comment almost throwing off the vibe of the moment the two of you were sharing.
“What?”
“Wait lean in a bit more hold on,” Ellie complied – leaning further in her lips a perfect inch away from yours. 
Ellie felt her breathing speed up, eyeing your lips, trying to correct herself by looking elsewhere. 
“Don’t look at me like that” Ellie whispered, her voice low as she leaned in even closer turning the inch to a centimeter. Her lips almost grazed yours as she spoke.
“Like what?” you whispered tilting your head as you looked up at her through your mascara-coated lashes, orbs flashing innocence, and fake confusion.
It took no time for the two of your lips to meet, your glossed lips giving hers some moisture. It was soft, almost feeling as if you were falling through a series of clouds. Ellie gripped at your face, as you felt her cold rings against your face, hands moving up and down as they stroked your smooth skin. It was abruptly getting hotter than here. By now your hands reached up to the back of Ellie’s hat tossing it to the floor, as the kiss got deeper and deeper. Your body hit the back of the counter’s mirror as Ellie continued to take her time kissing you. Stepping in between your thighs, using her free hand to wrap your legs around her waist as she continued. Caging her in feeding into the temptation.
You let out a low whine only for Ellie to detach her head away from your lips, tightly gripping your jaw and your neck tightly as her lips were kissing the flesh of your skin. Wet messy kisses as her tongue was in swirls, peppering marks on your neck. Almost going in as if she was taking a lick at ice cream, trying to get to the center and devour the cone. 
Occasional moans left your lips as you continued to get drunker off the taste of alcohol on her tongue. Your heavy breathing was intense as she pulled apart from you, fixing your dress strap for you as she gave a swift kiss to your shoulder and collarbone.
“I want to give you more than a sloppy party kiss. . .”
THUD!
“Ayo! open the door I gotta pee!”
Ellie rolled her eyes at the voice, belonging to a man as she peeled her body away from yours. Putting the shirt in the hamper closest to the tub she dug through the bathroom closest to find one of the secret safety shirts Jesse stored in the cabinet. Sliding the fabric over her head as she turned to face you adjusting the shirt. 
You snickered, laughing at how ridiculous the slogan on the shirt was: “WHO ATE ALL THE PUSSY?” It read, as ridiculous as it sounded it was very suitable for her. 
“Nice shirt,” Ellie looked down at the words before looking back at you,
“Nice face”
You shook your head at her response hopping off the counter to refreshen yourself, you digging into your purse as she was doing her own thing. Digging through your purse you brought out a small bottle of Fenty-lip gloss, cherry tinted, applying the rich and sticky gloss onto your lips rubbing in security. Ellie on the other hand, finished her preparations, throwing her hat into the closet, now eyeing your tube of lip gloss.
“You want some?” Your voice ran sweet as you pushed her more in front of you. Ellie puckered her lips meanwhile you were pumping the gloss three times before applying the tingling lip gloss onto her own. Ellie hummed at the sudden cherry flavor.
Ellie’s scrunched up – almost as if she smelled something bad.
“Ouchh, what the hell is it supposed to do that” Ellie cried, almost throwing a tantrum like a child. Rubbing her lips together.
“Yes Ellie, it’s a lip plumper”
“I swear my lips are gonna fall off”
“You’re so dramatic”
“Argg — take it off!”
⋆。°✩౨ৎ✩°。⋆
Once you left the bathroom you ended up separated from Ellie. Jesse interrupted saying they were having a problem…yet again with too many people on the front lawn. Jesse shouted sorry at you repeatedly as he dragged her away from you. Ellie looked back at you twice, while you did only once. 
You thought now would be a good time for some fresh air taking in the sudden humidity that was so so much hotter in comparison to where you stood comfortably at the counter. You whisked your way to the patio. Finding yourself sitting at the steps. The cool air nipping at your kneck as you bask in your own warmth rubbing your arms upwards and down again – repeating this motion until you were satisfied.
Tonight felt like a fever dream to you. Kissing your growing crush, a great night out where you not only made friends but weren’t uncomfortable during the night. It seemed almost too good to be true. Until the thoughts of Cat and Ellie standing outside of the bathroom door set you off. You felt that nervousness bubble up in your stomach again as you dipped your head down to rest against the wood of the railing. 
Behind you, the patio door slammed open…before being closed again. The back area was vacant of bodies until the new one arrived. The smell of pine filled your nostrils, clean and fresh as the body sat next to you bringing a blunt to their lips –  scratched at their hair. A jacket, on their arms flashes of red and white making you fully glance at them this time. 
It was a blonde with a pretty smile and beat-up Converse like many of the other skaters there. Which led you to believe that she was probably one of them, probably a friend of Ellie’s as well. Oh, how you were wrong.
“Too loud?” Her voice was smooth and low, muscular build figure -- prominent she had to be about 6’0. She seemed like an enigma not even real, almost an angel coming to your aid when you needed help and that you did.
“Nah. . . just needed to clear my head, for a second” You whispered as you kept your eyes closed against the wood. The sudden smell of weed fills the aroma between the two of you.
“All fair, what’s on your mind? I’m a stranger but I can give you advice” The blonde spoke up again letting out a brief puff of air and blowing the smoke away from you. She dug into her jacket pocket pulling out a penny, the blunt resting between her lips.
“Penny for your thoughts” She suggested.
You took the coin into your hands.
“You ever feel like someone is lying to you [all the time,] like I have suspicions that my roommate and this current girl I’m seeing are up to something. . . like I wouldn’t say it's imperatively negative but like it feels like there's a secret and everyone knows but me.” You confessed, words spilling out of your mouth like you were in a therapy session. The girl took another swig of the blunt before speaking.
“If you feel like it is, then find out the truth. You seem like a smart girl, don’t be afraid to ask”
“I’m not afraid its jus—”
“You’re afraid.”
“And that’s okay,” the blonde continued as she now directed her full attention to you. The scar on her face was prominent against her cheeks, ocean eyes slightly large and almost silver under the moonlight.
“I think you’re afraid your suspicions are gonna be right. But even if they were, look at the facts and the integrity. Were they not telling you x,y,z to hurt you – antagonize you? Or protect you?”
“I’m not a kid, I don’t need protecting” you scowled, turning your once open body away back into the staircase, adjusting your body away from the blonde’s. 
“Didn’t say you were, but everyone needs protecting…including myself”
“Let me tell you a story,” The blonde shook the blunts ash out as she started to speak. “When I was in high school I was infatuated with my current girlfriend, before we started dating. I wanted her so badly. My friends knew I had a crush and even someone I considered my best friend at the time. So naturally I planned moves, and they swept her right away from me — kissed her. . . probably fucked her. I was so mad. I mean I still get riled up thinking about it – but that’s beside the point. Eventually, the truth came to light that my so-called best friend wasn’t as good as people said she was. Now eventually my girlfriend and I worked past it, but I always thank myself for checking the light-eyed bitches location and finding out everything I needed to go”
“See I trusted my gut and I think you should too”
You took in her words, mouth wide as she told the story “I’m sorry that’s fucked up!”
“What’s even more fucked is me being here right now because I shouldn’t even be in attendance”
“They here or something?” you pry  – hoping to not have crossed paths with this person.
“Oh they are here alright, just be —”
“Yo!” A soft voice shouts from the patio door a black girl whose hair was put up into a cute puff, stuck her head out looking at the blonde. You thought she was gorgeous, even down to her voice she was pretty. Her aurora was nice, fitting for the blonde next to you
“Let’s bounce, Jesse’s cutting people out”
“Yup! Alright, that’s our cue,” The blonde put out her marijuana stick, dabbing it into the wood of the stairs as she stood up fully with a stretch. “Listen, as I said – if you suspect something ask questions. Stop settling that’s how you fuck yourself over”
“What’s your name?” you shouted, watching as the girl was walking away from you with the girl who stuck her head out, who you presumed to be her girlfriend that she described in the story.
“Abby!”
“And good luck! Something tells me you’ll need it”
Leaving you with the sparkling penny under the moonlight.
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taglist
@spacewlf @ellsss @elliestrwbrry @emluvselandabs @mossc0vered @destielcore @starologist @beforeimdeceased @rarestdoll @luvrgalore @sawaagyapong @zahraaziza @machetegirl109 @sadeyedsugar @pookiesmookie69 @elliesbabygirl @theganymedes @carmellie @ximtiredx @cherriesxinthespring @phantombriide @bunkisses4u @spaceshipellie @spacewlf @elliewilliamsmissingfingers @inf3ct3dd @rolly-pollie @skylerwhitwyo @eitaababe @qtefolleunpez
© cowgirlcherrie 2023
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dear-ao3 · 4 months
Note
Ask for f1 drama
i shall continue my tales of regaling you all
this edition: las vegas
so as it currently stands (november 14, 2023) there are two races left in the 2023 f1 season. one is this weekend in las vegas and one is next weekend in abu dhabi. we already know who has won the drivers and contractors (team) championship (max verstappen and red bull) but theres still some loose ends in the form of second third fourth etc place that need some tying up.
and the standings for the lower places of the championship are all quite tight:
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theres still a whole lot of action that can come there
which brings us to las vegas
vegas is a new race on the calendar, meaning no one has ever raced there on this track before (and likely no one will again based on how its going) and it is a street circuit, so they are literally racing on the las vegas strip.
now, prior to all the new stuff that came to light for this weekend, f1 royally managed to piss off las vegas by (probably) making tax payers (the people of vegas) pay for the strip to be repaved (several million dollars), wreaking absolute havoc on their town, shutting off the fountains, blocking things off, making traffic a nightmare and most terribly, saying that they would block off/put blackout on any stores or windows of stores or hotels who didnt want to pay a several thousand dollar fee to f1, basically making the race not viewable to anyone for free. (note that they have several other street circuit races in the calendar and they don't do this there). so it was already a nightmare.
now it gets more fun!
the race is in the middle of november in las vegas (which, for all intents and purposes, is a desert) and they decided for some unholy reason to make this a night race. i think it starts at 11 pm local time. and low and behold, the organizers just happened to forget (and they admitted that they did indeed forget) that it gets very cold at night in the desert. right now its projected to be 44-47 degrees f ( about 4/5 degrees c). f1 cars are fragile little machines that get grumpy in the wrong conditions and boy let me tell you, this is absolutely the wrong conditions. if it is indeed This Cold at the race, it will make it the coldest race in f1 history. last i heard people weren't entirely sure that the cars would work or that the tires would cooperate.
the track set up is woefully abysmally. to get the tires warm, the lads would need some good corners to zoom around to get the tires up to temperature where they can go vroom zoom fast, but, there are not too many corners. below is the track. as you can see, theres a lot of straights, and thus, not many good opportunities to get the tires nice and hot, further affecting car performance
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the pit lane (you know where everyone usually goes at least once or twice to change their tires) is quite possibly in the worst spot it could be. it is on the tiny straight right before turn 1. when you go into the pitlane, the tires lose a good amount of heat (or all of it if you're going in to get fresh tires) and they need to warm the tires back up. problem is, they're going to be zooming out of the pitlane basically directly into turns 1 2 and 3, on cold rubber, in a cold race. but it gets better, because of the way the track is set up, this positioning of the pitlane, if the exits are not timed correctly, will cause collisions because the pitlane exit it basically right where the cars on the track need to go in order to get the most speed (its more technical than this and someone else can fully explain the pitlane disaster better, but this is it in very simple terms i think). the pitlane is around where that arrow is.
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so not only will it be cold and the pitlane cause accidents and the cars won't work, they don't have names for any of the corners and straights. so right now the map of the track looks like this which is batshit hilarious
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and to top it off!! no one has raced here! no one knows how the cars will perform!! its going to be a shit show! god save the poorest little meow meows!!
and unrelated but there is a chapel in the paddock at the race, just for some spice, called race to the alter
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lw6-woso · 9 months
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sleepyhead (Alexia Putellas x Reader)
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(gif not mine)
Alexia Putellas Everybody knew her, especially in the women's football world, La Reina. if you knew her you knew that she we closed off and very private, even when she was around the people she most cared about they never really saw her show her true emotions, the only people she showed her emotions to was her girlfriend of 3 years, me and today that was going to change.
it had been a couple of weeks since Alexia had been on the pitch since her ACL and everyone had noticed how happy she had become and even how happy everyone in the team became even the staff.
we had just had a rough day in training and everyone was tired out, everyone was planning on coming to yours and Alexia's house for a little get-together since it was so nice out.
both you and Alexia had made it home and Nala had come in running glad to see us after a long day.
"hey chica" you said picking up the dog and kissing her head.
"you okay ale," you asked her
as she didn't make a fuss over Nala like she normally did and instead she went and grabbed a bottle of water.
"yeah just really tired I guess, long day" she said.
"if you want to cancel tonight then say so" you said but she shook her head and said "No it's fine I'm gonna take a nap let me know when everyone is here"
you nodded and she walked passed me giving me a kiss on my lips and then walked up the stair to bed Nala following closely behind her.
you slowly started to clean and get everything ready for the girls to come around, it only took two hours before knocks on the doors and people walking in and making their way into the garden.
once everyone was here and with a drink in their hands people started asking questions about where Alexia and Nala were, you got off the sofa and went upstairs to go and grab her. you walked into the dark room and there wasn't a noise except the fan that was on.
you walked towards the bed and laid down next to Alexia who was still fast asleep. Nala came and sat on my lap.
"hey baby" I said moving the hair out of her face. she hummed and moved around a bit getting comfy again.
"Everyone is here if you want to come down we are going to order some pizza," you said and she nodded, you kissed her head and walked back out of the room and downstairs.
"she awake" Mapi said
"yeah shall be done in a minute pizza has been ordered," you asked and they nodded.
you all sat down and continued talking and Nala came running outside barking happy to see all the girls here, and slowly after Alexia came down wrapped in a blanket and sat next to me.
"look who decided to wake up" Mapi said teasing her.
she pulled her middle finger up at Mapi and snuggled up to me. you put your hand on her forehead but there was no sign of her being sick.
"When will pizza be here," Ale asked.
"not long hopefully you hungry" you asked and she nodded snuggling into me even more.
as we all talked and started to play some board game the pizza came, you stood up to answer the door which Lex wasn't too pleased about you got the pizzas and came back out and everyone started eating and Alexa sat in between my legs eating her food quietly.
"you okay," you asked her and she nodded with a smile on her face kissing you on the lips and going back to eat.
after eating me and Ingrid were putting all the boxes in the kitchen and putting leftovers in containers.
"is Alexia okay I've never seen her like this," she asked.
"yeah I think she's just so exhausted with training and then media with coming back from her injury it took a lot out of her," you said.
"yeah iver never seen her cling to you like that" she said.
"yeah you can tell she is tired thank god tomorrow is a day off" you said.
for the rest of the night you all participated in games and by 11 o'clock, everyone was home and you and Alexia were in bed fast asleep leaving all the cleaning for tomorrow.
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waitmyturtles · 2 months
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Last Twilight, episode 12: final reflections
Wow. It took me all of this past weekend to process this finale, notwithstanding the usual life craziness that has dogged me lately.
Let me preface this whole thing by saying that I'm confused by what I watched. I'd say that, overall -- I actually quite liked this series, and I especially, absolutely ADORED JimmySea, Namtan, and Mark, and their acting. JimmySea kicked major ass, and I really hope they get another big and complicated show to chew on.
I also want to say that between episodes 11 and 12, I felt that I saw uncharacteristic editing clunkiness from Aof Noppharnach and his team that left a lot of necessary emotional and ethical processing on the cutting room floor. I think that's what's ultimately making me feel uneasy about the process of watching this, but -- funnily enough, I'm not nearly as "angry" about the ending as I was with other bad shows that fell apart in their last quarter recently. It was obvious that MhokDay were going to get together.
But I needed to walk a few more steps with them on their journey to that end.
Before I got my eyes on the finale, a few reactions on social media, from Tumblr to Twitter gave me the case of the jibbles. Namely: that the story of Last Twilight would have worked better if Day had stayed blind through the end.
I wasn't really understanding how that construction could work without walking through some sort of ethical minefield.
Now that I've seen the finale -- especially that infamous 4/4 segment -- I understand better what those arguments were saying.
Yet, I'm still dogged by a kind of ethical confusion here. And maybe that was one of the points of this finale, another one of Aof Noppharnach's perhaps now-famous-or-infamous emotionally inconclusive endings.
To me, there are two ethical potholes that this show stumbled on:
1) The ethics WITHIN the fictional piece itself for a character to not depict the process of considering the various fates he might face vis à vis a potentially reversible impairment, and
2) The ethics of a REAL audience ultimately wanting a different outcome for a fictional character to NOT have an impairment reversed.
TL;DR — I don’t think Last Twilight spent enough time having Day consider the permanence or impermanence of the various fates he faced, including permanent blindness. I don’t think the characters, and as such, the audience, spent enough time understanding that a corneal transplant was always going to be Day’s endgame.
Last Twilight was marketed as a show focused on disability, on a man going blind in a society that prioritizes the able-bodied, and how he would adjust to his disability, and of course (this being GMMTV), his falling in love. As fans, we were prepared to receive a whole show about a character with a disability, not as a side pairing, à la Heart and Li Ming in Moonlight Chicken.
It so happened that Day's visual impairment was corneal deterioration -- a condition that could lead to permanent blindness, and thus qualify him for a corneal transplant.
What I'm struggling with is the crux of the ethical dilemma that this show was ALWAYS going to have to deal with: that a corneal impairment of the kind that Day experienced, in the prime of his life, could very well be reversed with surgery, a surgery that has tremendous success rates.
As such -- as we got that clarification in drips throughout the series -- this show was actually not ONLY going to be about the newfound adjustment of a recently-impaired man to an ableist society. It was ALWAYS going to have this door of ANOTHER major change, the reversal of the impairment, just slightly cracked open. I'm not sure that I, as a viewer, was fully prepared for this, even as Night and Mae Mhon spoke about "eye donations" as givens in the middle of the series. I believe the show needed to be much louder, earlier, about the "hope" that Day could "go back" to "living a normal life," instead of framing the high majority of the show around his adjustments to his impairment.
As we went through Day's adjustment to life outside of his room, I believe we needed to hear, FROM DAY HIMSELF, that a corneal transplant was a conclusion that HE believed in, that HE wanted. A failure of this series was that we unfortunately only heard that from his family members, leaving us to only ASSUME that the conclusion of the reversal of his impairment was ALSO Day's intention.
For a story that was very much about an individual's developing agency and self-advocacy: I believe I needed to hear from Day himself that he was good and ready for the final surgery. I only assume that was the case, as I saw his own body and mind in the hospital. But I believe, for dramatic success, that I could have used a basic, "I'm ready," from him, to make segment 4/4 more complete and contextual, against the story of adjustment and resilience we had so far seen before then.
And what a story of adjustment and resilience we had gotten, as Day had established a full career for himself, without Mhok next to him, during one of the time jumps of episode 12.
For my sake, as I process what I watched this weekend, I want to come to grips with what I thought were the major themes of this show, and see if I can come to some sort of sensible conclusion about what happened here.
This show was focused on:
1) the romance between Day and Mhok, 2) Mhok's caretaking and companionship being the lever to help Day out of his room and back into the world from which he had retreated after the onset of his visual impairment, 3) Day slowly learning how to function again in a society that prioritizes the able-bodied vis à vis his visual impairment, 4) Day learning how to self-advocate for himself in the face of those who condescend to him and/or keep him trapped in compassion bias postures,
and more that I'm sure I'm missing, but those are the themes that resonated the most with me.
I think the general feeling on Tumblr is that, save for the romance, that themes 3 and 4 were contradicted out of existence in the face of the sudden flip to the surgery of segment 4/4.
I think not hearing from Day himself that he was ready and willing for the surgery was a lost moment. I don't believe Day was ever acting as if he would choose anything else OTHER than surgery throughout the series. BUT, AT THE SAME TIME: what we had watched prior to 4/4 was his story of adjustment.
My biggest ethical concern here, vis à vis the audience reactions that I've read, is that NO ONE -- in fiction or in real life -- owes me a story of heroism. If there is an individual who has been impaired since birth, or is dealing with a degenerative condition later in their life, and has the opportunity to address or reverse the condition, who am I to say that that individual SHOULD NOT address their condition?
For me, this is huge. I believe this is a huge ethical dilemma that Last Twilight ultimately does not face. I wish this series had been much more centered, earlier on, about the utter REALITY that Day could have his condition reversed by surgery, in words he'd say himself, rather than assumptions made for him, on behalf of his family, who.... I presume were established to be some sort of legal conservators for him, as Mhon continued to be the one to receive eye donation text messages.
(I concede that I don't know if this is a more common set-up for disabled individuals in Thailand, as I would assume in the States, that Day himself would have been the one to receive that message directly.)
For this show to have seemed emotionally and artistically complete: I needed to hear from Day himself that surgery was an endgame that he was banking his hopes on. I also needed to understand, much more statistically clearly vis à vis the show, of the absolute risks that Day faced towards having permanent blindness for the rest of his life. Because the show ALSO needed to focus on the establishment of the romance between Mhok and Day, we missed out on the show taking time to explain to us, the viewers, of the absolute risks that Day faced in any of these scenarios -- and thus, we would have had MUCH more context into the nuances of the resilience that Day needed to establish for himself as he re-adjusted to society, with his numerous fates lying before him.
I'm going to borrow the words of @hallowpen in their final review here, to say that this show at the end needed much more "breathing room." I think @hallowpen is so right in saying it like this, because these two factors that I just laid out, geez -- the first 7/8ths of the series being about Day's social adjustment against the utter suddenness of the successful surgery and his sudden jump back to what's been translated as his "normal life" -- just clash so tonally. (I do wonder if we're getting as nuanced a translation on "normal" as we could be.)
I think this is about the most confused final review of a show that I've written. There is an ethical heaviness to all of this that's weighing on me, that I think I still need time to comb through.
I also feel that I simply do not know enough, by way of my lack of cultural competency into how Thai society approaches issues of public and private health, if Day’s unseen choice to get the surgery would have been a given among majority Thai audiences, AND that majority Thai audiences would not have asked for the kind of internal debates that I think the show could have used.
I feel thrilled that Day can see Poomjai/Mee, after making that wish in episode 11.
But I think, if this show was about a journey for someone to learn how to successfully advocate for his own agency -- that, at the very end, I needed to see that agency exercised, by him, to get to the part of the reversal of the impairment that I assumed he wanted.
Again: Day doesn't owe me his story of heroism. If fiction doesn't want to give me that, from a character with a recent impairment, I don't have the right to ask for it.
But the missing bits of artistry to get me, the viewer, to only an assumption, has led me to surprising ethical places, that will leave me wondering about what happened in this series for a long time.
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pablitogavii · 11 months
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Finally...GAVI MASTERLIST
It's here! All my work at one place...Enjoy ;))
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SMUTS:
Swapped Roles
Proving a point ;)
Number 30
Her Best Friend
Special Request
That boy is mine!
Another special request
Same to you
Lingerie
Only his fan
Injury
Injury Pt. 2
Silent Treatment
Girls night
Testing Limits
Campeon!
Flash him
Shaving Cream
Distractions ;)
Bath time
Safe Word
Princesa mala
Boys night
Enemies don't kiss each other
Teacher
His naughty little cheerleader
Friendly
Para la Victoria!
Special dance moves
Behave
Our promise
Mi chica buena
PRANK WARS
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
FLUFF
Seventeen
Panic
Bad Game
Angry bird
Ballon D'or Ceremony
Caught
Video Games
Protector
I love you too
Misunderstanding
Little jealous
Makeup routine Pablo style
On her period
Cute request
Hate :(
I'm sorry...
Meet the crew
Care
Bebé
Campeones, Campeones!
Fight for you
Goodnight (kinda smutty but not really :)
Celebration
Situationship (jealous!pablito)
Imagine we are dating?
Seeking attention
Anger Issues
Soft Mornings
Period Problems
Spoiled
Clumsy
Only my baby!
Fight
Sceardy Cat
Home
Passenger Princesa
How we met/ social media
Familia
There for you
My Angry Bird
Social Media Fluff
New Boyfriend
Bracelet
Friend vs Boyfriend
His doctora
Vacation mornings
His Ídolo
Home Sweet Home
Bad Friend
Things Pablo notices
Sleepy Bug
Sick Babyboy
Family Vacation
Dad!Gavi
And A LOT more to come...<33
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familyvideostevie · 6 months
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october third
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day three: bradley "rooster" bradshaw you go to a tailgate with your friend bradley | friends to lovers | 1.5k
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You don’t even like football that much. But here you are waiting on your front steps with a cooler of drinks and seven layer dip for Bradley to pick you up to drive to LA for a football game.
“We don’t do this often,” Hangman had told you last week when you were all at the bar. “But my boys are in town, so it’s practically law that we go.”
“Cowboys,” Bradley had whispered in your ear before you swatted him away.
“So we’re driving up to LA to watch?”
Everyone nodded solemnly. Until Natasha cracked. “To get drunk at the tailgate and then watch them get crushed!”
Bradley had offered to drive you the day of the game. Most of the group went up last night to meet up with some old Navy friends, but since you’re relatively new to the whole group you opted out of that one. You know Bob the best, actually, and then Natasha through him but you and Rooster get along surprisingly well and he lives pretty close to you.
It doesn’t hurt that he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.
He pulls up in his silly Bronco and honks once even though he sees you sitting on the steps. “Morning!” He hops out of the car and jogs over. You stand and he gives you a quick hug and a grin. “I’ve got breakfast in the car, if you’re hungry.”
Knowing Bradley, he’s probably been up since 4am. He’s always full of energy that you’ve learned is just a part of his personality. He’s practically vibrating all the time, dialed up to 11 when he’s in public especially. It’s a little overwhelming but you find it endearing.
“Thank you,” you tell him. He grabs your cooler and secures it in the car as you hop in to find coffee and a breakfast sandwich from the place down the street waiting for you. “And thanks for driving.”
He waves off your thanks. “Thank you for coming,” he says, heading for the highway. “I was worried this would scare you off.”
“It’s just football, Bradley.” He shrugs.
“Just be glad it’s not the Army Navy game.”
As he drives he tells you about some rowdier tailgates he went to in college. You swap stories of fall shenanigans from your youth — a high school football game here and there, though fall where you grew up is definetly colder than California in October.
“That reminds me,” Bradley says, snapping his fingers. “I’ve got a jersey for you. Chargers, obviously.” He’s in one, too, the material hanging off his broad shoulders. You know from your glance at him when he picked you up that his jeans fit achingly perfectly. You don’t have any sports stuff of your own, so you’d opted for a yellow top. “Hangman is going to get you into a Cowboys one when we get there, but don’t be swayed.”
“Of course not,” you say. He grins and you smile back.
The two hours to LA fly by even when you hit typical traffic. Spending time with Bradley is easy, even when your mind thrums with what you’ve deemed your low-level crush on him. He flirts with everyone, sure, but sometimes it feels like he flirts with you differently.
You get to the stadium and right away you can see that it’s a crowded, rowdy kind of situation. Rooster must see the trepidation on your face when you ask who else will be there.
“Navy buddies, probably. Friends of Hangman’s from Texas who are in town for the game. I don’t know a ton of them, but I know it’ll be fun.” He puts his hand on your arm. “Stick with me if you want,” he says. “You can always stick with me.”
“Okay,” you say softly. He winks at you.
The parking lot you’re in is a bit of a walk from the tailgating spot, so you put on your borrowed jersey and unload the car.
Cooler in one hand, Rooster reaches his other towards you. “So you don’t get converted by any Cowboys fans?” You laugh. As if he has to ask you to hold his hand.
So you do. His palm is warm and calloused and he leads you fearlessly through the throng until you find your friends at the spot they staked out. There are at least two grills going, a table of snacks, and lots and lots of beer.
“C’mon, really?” Hangman shouts when you come into view. “He got to you?” His face is painted blue in some spots.
“You should’ve driven me, then!”
Hangman smirks. “As if this guy would’ve let me.” You look at Rooster and his neck is flushed even as he rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, and you release him to put the stuff you brought on the table.
It surprises you a little that you’re having fun. There are lots of people you don’t know but Rooster sticks close to you, hand on your shoulder blade or lower back when he asks if you’re hungry, if you want a drink, if you’re cold. Everyone you meet is thrilled that you’re here and you forget that this is a football tailgate you drove over two hours to and not just a party with your friends.
You’re in a circle of girls talking about a new book a few of you have read when you feel Rooster come up behind you. You recognize the heat of him by now. His hand lands on the small of your back, and he leans down to speak in your ear.
“A few of us are going to make a run for some more drinks and water. I’ll be back soon. You okay?” You lean away from him a little so you can see his face before nodding. He leaves you with a squeeze of your hip and you turn back to the circle to find all of the girls watching you.
“Do I have something on my face?” you ask.
“Okay,” one of them says. You are pretty sure her name is Flora. “How did you train him?”
“What?”
“Your boyfriend,” another one chimes in. “He’s like, all over you in the best way.”
Oh. Oh. “Bradley?” you say, voice a little higher than you’d like. You swallow and shift on your feet a bit. “We’re just friends.”
Everyone in the circle titters. “Sure, you are,” they coo. “Heard that before.” You scrunch your nose and shake your head.
The girl next to you puts her hand on your arm. “Honey,” she says kindly. “That man is into you. He’s scared off every guy coming over here.”
“I—” You start but find you have nothing to say. They take pity on you and move on to something else but your thoughts stay with their comments. Sure, you’ve been flirting and sure, today he’s been extra touchy but that’s just because you don’t know lots of people here, right? So what if he texts you pictures of dogs and things he sees and says reminded me of you. So what if he knows your coffee order and fixes things in your apartment when you ask and calls you when he’s driving back from base. So what if he treats you like his girlfriend.
He hasn’t said anything.
Flora leans over. “Sometimes, these Navy boys, they’re all confident on the outside but really they just don’t want to screw it up so they wait and wait and wait.” She looks over your shoulder and wiggles her eyebrows at you. You turn around and find Bradley walking towards you again.
“Ladies,” he says.
“Hi, Rooster,” they echo.
He focuses on you, hand on your elbow to pull you from the circle a little bit. “You okay?” You nod. “Game is gonna start in a little bit so I think we’re going to head in.” His hand moves up your arm to your clavicle as his fingers seemingly fix your necklace. You keep your eyes on his face and watch him concentrate.
“Bradley?”
“Yeah?” He’s still fixated on the task at hand. Everyone around you is starting to clean up and migrate towards the stadium.
“Do you want to go on a date?” His fingers freeze. You worry for a second that you’ve got it all wrong, that he’s not into making this unspoken thing spoken, that he’s about to let you down easy. But you watch his pupils dilate, feel his hand move so that it’s cupping your neck, watch his surprised expression turn to something happy, something luminous.
“Really?” he says. Maybe the girls were right — maybe these muscled, loudmouthed, sporty Navy guys really don’t know what they’re doing any more than the rest of you. None of the other guys in the group flirt with you like Bradley does, none of them drive you around and make you laugh and you don’t want to kiss any of them the way you want to kiss him.
You nod. “Yeah,” you say.
“Sweetheart,” he says. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he echoes. You kiss him on the cheek and wrap an arm around his waist.
“Football time, Bradley.” He shakes himself out of your moment and slings an arm around your shoulders as you walk back to your friends who are clearly pretending they weren’t watching.
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thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23
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landhinlove · 1 year
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Guys I swear to god he looked right into my eyeballs when he said “hey you” in keep driving but my video is blurry because I was looking at him and not my phone so this is the only proof I have
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harpersessentials · 6 months
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my next generation will spend a lot of time in komorebi - a world which, despite its amazing landscape, tends to bore me to death - so, to change that, i decided to look for a few fanmade lots to brighten things up a bit. this was the result, a list of favourite lots for mt. komorebi that i now share with you.
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1 - 241 Wakabamori 20x15
Wakabamori Hostel (Rental/Residential) by @rebouks
241 Wakabamori (Residential) by @mysimsloveaffair
241 Wakabamori (Residential) by @pixelco
Wakabamori 241 (Residential) by @pilcrow00b6
Traditional Japanese Home (Residential) by @simkatbuilds
2 - 242 Wakabamori 30x20
The Maeda Residence (Residential) by @ladychaos
Akiya (Haunted House) by @whyeverr
Newlyweds Japanese Home (Residential) by @ludicsim
242 Hasegawa (Residential) by @cerubean
3 - 243 Wakabamori 20x15
Japanese Cottage (Residential) by cross-design
Wakabamori's Cat Café (Café) by @incandescentsims
Natsukashii (Rental/Residential) by @grimsae
4 - Hazakura Lounge 30x20
Hādowāku Dojo (Gym) by @thepixelarchitect
Karaoke Bar Hazakura (Karaoke Bar) by @mikkimur-sims
Mt Komorebi Home (Residential) by @lilaicks
5 - 251 Wakabamori 50x50
Japanese Countryside House by @plantsimgirl
The Uchida Residence (Residential) by @ladychaos
Ryokan “Yukimatsu” (Rental) by @alerionjkeee
6 - 641 Haniamigawa 20x15
The Laurel House (Residential) by @moonlightowl-es
Maid Cafe and Some Manga (Restaurant) by @alerionjkeee
641 Haniamigawa (Residential) by @thepixelarchitect
7 - Hanamigawa Koen 30x20
Sushi Restaurant (Restaurant) by @mikkimur-sims
'umamichi’ & machiya (Restaurant) by @caelhinn
Senbamachi Street Food (Community Space) by @alerionjkeee
8 - Izakaya Ippai 30x20
Japanese Tavern (Bar) by @secretscones
honeyasume sento (Onsen Bathhouse) by @beetlemp3
Kawara no Yu (Onsen Bathhouse) by @whyeverr
Refuge de l’Aube (Residential) by @simsontherope
Old Townhouse (Residential) by @alerionjkeee
9 - 561 Shinrinyoku 20x15
Red Dragon (Night Club) by @mikkimur-sims
561 Shinrinyoku (Residential) by @alerionjkeee
561 Shinrinyoku (Residential) by @kazroze
561 Shinrinyoku (Residential) by @scarletts4
564 Shinrinyoku Apartments (Residential) by @alerionjkeee
10 - 531 Shinrinyoku 30x20
Downtown Senbamachi (Bar) by @ladychaos
leblanc bar, laundromat, café  (Bar) by @lizardtrait
Senbamachiya Market (Retail) by @whyeverr
531 Shinrinyoku (Residential) by @mikkimur-sims
11 - 5-1-1 Kiyomatsu 30x20
Winterland Shopping Street (Retail) by @mikkimur-sims
Snow Equipment Shop (Retail) by @thepixelarchitect
511 Kiyomatsu (Rental) by @mikkimur-sims
12 - 5-1-2 Kiyomatsu 30x20
512 Kiyomatsu (Rental) by @mikkimur-sims
Komorebi Motel & Bar (Bar) by @scarletts4
13 - Sutefani Onsen Bathhouse 30x20
La Source Émeraude (Onsen Bathouse) by @simsontherope
Nordic Spa (Spa) by @darthmol
14 - Kiyomatsu Point 50x50
The Sactuary of Komorebi (Park) by @alerionjkeee
Tinamatsu Snow Café (Café) by @simgurl
Kiyomatsu Lodge (Rental) by @darthmol
Onsen Bathhouse Sakura (Onsen Bathhouse) by @mikkimur-sims
15 - Top Mt Komorebi 20x20
Mt. Komorebi Peak (Special Lot) by @simgurl
Mt. Komorebi Castle (Special Lot) by @ariafaeyt
189 notes · View notes
justjams2003 · 3 months
Text
Fast Pace- 12
Before we start, I'd just like to wish you all a very happy New Year! Know that there is plenty more to come from me in the coming year. And also thank you all for 420 followers (haha nice), I'm still in shock that people keep coming back and wants more. Believe it or not, this is the most active community and website I have ever written for and I'm so glad to have found Tumblr. Anyways enjoy xoxo
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', nudity, a garbage family, family trauma, disowning, tell me if I missed any
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen
Word count: 3,1k
Masterlist
Part 11~Part 13 (coming soon)
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“Echanté de voi rencontre, Monsur.” Carlos is trying his best, but at the moment he is butchering your home-tongue. You can’t but be nervous, he however seems as calm as a cucumber about meeting your parents. He’s got the sunglasses on that you gave him. You can see from where your sitting, your initials carved into the side. “No, no, mon cher. Good try, but it’s Enchanté de vous rencontrer, Monsieur.”  
He sighs, rubbing his face in his hands. He looks so much more relaxed already. He’s got short khaki’s on and a casual button up shirt. You’ve hired a more practical car for the week, one with a big trunk. You got your family lots of presents and might have overpacked a bit. Still not used to having such a big amount of money. But even still, you have the sunroof open, enjoying the county side air.  
“I’m sorry, mi querida,” he shakes his head and rakes his fingers through his hair. You can’t help yourself, tucking the stray hairs that fray in the wind behind his ears. “I should’ve gotten a haircut before we came.” He sighs, but you can see that he enjoys your touch. “No, it is the perfect length, don’t change a thing about it.” He gives a side-eye but you can only laugh. “No, it’s in the way.” 
You pout, “No, your hair is just long enough to...grab...” you mutter, taking a handful of hair and pulling on it ever so slightly. Surprisingly, a growl escapes his throat. The noise causes a warmth to spread through your body.
The sunlight hits his skin just beautifully, he looks like hot caramel. Something you want to drizzle into your mouth. You’re sure you could cook a steak on his sizzling skin.  
“This is your home then?” He asks, while caring the bags. He refuses to let you carry a single one. You nod and then knock on the door. “It is a small house for 7 people, no?” He’s not wrong. “Oui, us three girls had to share a room and the boys shared a room.” He grimaces at your words, “Then one day we will have a big house.” You blush at his words and wrap your arms around his, all while subtly taking a photo.  
The door opens, you only now realise how short your mom has gotten. Or maybe it really has been so long. “Ah, ma fille, tu viens enfin rendre visite à ta vieille mère. Cela fait si longtemps et enfin tu ramènes un homme à la maison!” She instantly starts rambling and then opens up her arms and gives Carlos a big hug. “N'es-tu pas si beau? Quel est votre nom et pourquoi êtes-vous avec ma fille?”  
Carlos looks like a fish out of water. His face is entirly blank and he just seems to be nodding along. “Enchanté de vous rencontrer, Mademoiselle,” he stutters through the French, his Spanish accent still blatantly obvious. Your mother just frowns at his bad French. “He doesn’t speak French.” Her wide smile turns sour, “Pourquoi faire venir un homme inutile qui ne parle pas français?”  
You sigh and then nudge him, “the presents,” you whisper. “Il s'appelle Carlos et il a apporté des cadeaux.” Now she really does smile as he holds up the presents. “Oui, come in, come in.” Like always, he allows you to walk in first.
“What did she say?” He asks to you in a whisper. You sigh and shake your head. “Nothing that you need to worry yourself about.” You give him a kiss on the cheek, trying to soothe his usually worry.  
“Apportez-lui quelque chose à boire, je suis sûr qu'il est fatigué après son très long voyage.” You sigh, of course she asks that of you. As if you and him didn’t have the same trip. You turn to Carlos after he sat down along with your mother to open her present, that you picked out. 
 “Carlos, what would you like to drink?” He frowns and then stands up. He takes your arm and then leads you to the couch. “You must be tired, mi querido, it was a four-hour trip, I’m sure you are tired.” He leads you to sit down next to him, he pulls you into his side. Everything in you wants to cuddle into his side, but you can feel your mother’s judgemental eyes on you.  
Instead, you shake your head, “My mother insists that I get you something to drink. You did drive after all.” You can see the tick in his jaw, clearly not happy with this. He smiles, forced clearly, “Please tell your mother I don’t need anything to drink.” You sigh and do just so and she replies with some comment insisting you do just that. Yes, you are exhausted but even still you stand and pour him a drink.  
“Je vais lui montrer la chambre.” You grab him by the arm and pull him up towards your old bedroom. Quite ungracefully you fall on your childhood bed. He smirks, but his smile is quick to fall. “Mi dulce niña, does she always make you feel like this?” Carlos asks you give and exhausted laugh. “You don’t even know what she said,” you peak at him, and he pulls you into his lap.  
He kisses your forehead, “Tell me," You sigh and rest you head on his shoulder. “When she met you, she went, ‘you’re so handsome why are you dating my daughter?’ And then she went, ‘you’re so stupid bringing a man that doesn’t even speak French.’ Then after that it was, ‘poor thing he’s so tired bring him something to drink.’ As if I wasn’t on the exact same trip as you!”  
His jaw locks and his arms wrap tighter around you, “Does she always speak to you like that,” you sigh and sink deeper into his arms. “Why do you think I brought you with. Call you my armour,” you laugh, actually hiding behind his arms. He laughs, but it’s the same type of awkward type, “Where is your dad, is he any better?”  
You hum and then walk down the stairs again after taking your breather and then ask your Maman where your father is. “He is outside with your brother, working hard as always,” she says, still in French.
“Really, which one?” You ask, opening the back door, only to see your oldest brother chopping wood while your father carves the same wood right next to him. “Bér!” You call out and once he sees you, he smiles.  
You walk into the back fields, Carlos trailing behind you and when you do finally meet your brother, he gives you a warm hug. “Finally, back in your own country,” he comments, and you can’t help but furrow your brows. “What do you mean?” You ask, you haven’t told anyone about anything. “You think I haven’t noticed? I am not like Mama and Papa who do not own a phone and use the library’s computer to email you.”  
You frown and watch his eyes. They’re train on Carlos who seems to be struggling with the mud and his very expensive shoes. “Traveling the world with mister Armani,” he teases you like always, and you can’t help but step on his shoes. “Enchanté, Monsieur.” Carlos holds out his hand and it makes you and your brother laugh out loud. “Don’t worry, race-man... I am not her father.” You jab your brother in the stomach.  
“But he’s even worse.” He groans and then begins complaining in French but you’re quick to stop him. “Connard, you know Carlos doesn’t speak French, clearly, you’ve been stalking him. So don’t be an ass,” Bérenger sighs at your words and then translates for Carlos.
“I was just saying that I you see in your fancy Ferrari and your expensive shoes, no one in the family can understand someone like you being with a dull girl like her.” He shrugs and you both laugh, it’s the way you talk as siblings.  
Even so, Carlos’ expression turns sour. “He much more than that Bérenger, now, play nice.” Before you turn to leave to say hello to your father, you ask your brother one last thing. This time in French, because you’d rather not have Carlos know just yet. “How is Papa today?” You brother hesitates, knowing exactly what you’re talking about. “He’s there, like before, no confusion yet today.”  
You nod and make your way over. “Bonjour Papa, I’ve come to visit.” Your father looks up to you, his eyes clear. Not that his personality has changed much, he replies in a gruff tone. “Who’s the boy?” His eyes are like daggers on Carlos.
“He’s my boyfriend,” your dad rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure. And for how long is he going to put up with you?” You laugh, like always keeping the peace. “I’m not some terrible burden. At least, not in his eyes.”  
Like always he just replies with a scoff.  
Before long, you’re washing dishes after dinner. “Mi paloma, please tell your mother the dinner was delicious.” You can feel his big strong arms wrap around your waist. You’re sure he's feeling a bit alone. It’s only been you and your brother here who can even speak English.
You smile, “Thank you, Carlos, but she didn’t make it.” It’s the truth, the whole evening Bérenger and Carlos chopped wood, all while you have to take care of your mother’s ever whim, like always.  
It doesn’t bother you; it’s always been like this. But you can tell it’s getting to Carlos. “No wonder I liked it so much, it’s your cooking. But, mi dulce niña, you barely ate, aren’t you hungry?” He caresses yours even as you continue washing. “Thank you, Carlos, it’s nice hearing some positive words after that dinner.” He sighs, burrowing his face on the crook of your neck.  
“You’re avoiding my question.” He places small kisses here and there. “It’s not in the diet plan,” it’s an excuse, your mother had been commenting on your weight all evening. Yes, it’s true you’d gained weight, but you’d been working out and most of it is muscle. But her words are sharp, and the thoughts are springing up. If it makes her happy, better so. He does his usual noise when he’s unhappy when something.  
“Tomorrow I’ll cook dinner,” you gasp, turning to him, his words have caused delight in you. “I’d like to see that,” his brows furrow but a smug look is on his face. “What? You don’t think I can?” In your mind, yes, he has a difficult life, but that’s just stress. He has personal chefs and personal trainers and likely his father had too. Not way did he ever learn to cook. “No, not at all.” 
You cross your arms, and he just laughs. “Fine then, I'll show you. You can even post it on your Instagram.” This sparks joy, you love seeing people’s reactions to you and him.
So far, they’ve been nothing but positive. In these short three weeks you’ve gotten 50k new followers. If they’re there for you or Carlos, doesn’t matter to you. You’ll give them what they want either way.  
“You mean it?” Your hands reach up and take hold of his shirt. “Only if you eat,” and with that you bite your lip and nod. “Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal.” He sighs, takes a drying rag and begins helping you by putting away the dishes. “Oh Carlos! Ne perdez pas votre temps avec la vaisselle, Y/N la fera. Laisse-moi te montrer ses photos de bébé.”  
You sigh, leaning your head against his chest. “Oh no,” his brows furrow pulling you away to see what the matter is. “She wants to show you my baby pictures.” A deep laugh escapes his chest. “Mi querida, I’d love to help you finish this, but I can’t miss that.” You laugh but do allow him to see little you.  
“What colour are you choosing?” You ask your mother, watching as she scans through the different nail polishes. Like expect she chooses a toned-down pink, she rarely does her nails but when she does, it’s always that same colour. “Why don’t you choose something different? Look I’m going with this black with gold shimmer. We’re somewhere nice, don’t you want to use the opportunity?”  
Your mother just looks at you over her glasses. “And why is that?” It’s already Thursday, the week had been going by slower than you expected it would and only made you realise why you visit so little.
The only good thing so far has been your father’s awareness, he’s had a few moments of unclarity these past few months. Even so, just like growing up, he doesn’t exactly stand up for you against your mother’s badgering.  
Like always, it's just the usual gruff short replies and relative quietness. Carlos, however, has been nothing but kind. The dinner he cooked was amazing, the fans swooned in your comments. At night he’d hold you tight and whisper sweet nothings. All about how beautiful you are and how you’re perfect as is. It helps, yes, but nothing compares to motherly love. You do everything you can, but still don’t feel like enough.  
“Ah, Mama, don’t be like that.” After that, she continues about the gossip of the town and the lives of your siblings. That is of course until you’re sitting at the dinner table again. Enjoying the food Carlos has crafted to fit both of your diets, showing him your nails. He loves them and makes sure to kiss your knuckles.  
That is, until your mother interrupts your bliss. “Y/N, what did you say Carlos does?” You bite the inside of your cheek. “He is a Formula one driver.” You mutter, trying to hide yourself behind her sharp glare. “And are you still a chef?” You swallow your food; you’ve been avoiding this question for as long as possible. You shake your head, “No, Mama,” her bitter stare grows stronger.  
“So, what is it that you do?” She raises her voice, now your father seems interested. “I am working on my modelling career.” Both your parents groan and gasp in raised tones. “This again,” your brother mutters, he too has been harsh with you. “Why do you keep going on and on about this modelling. Ever since you were small. My daughter, you know I love you, but you aren’t like those pretty girls.”  
Her words are like knifes; knifes reopening wounds you’d been working so hard to heal. Carlos takes your hand under the table. This whole time he’d been encouraging you to stand up for yourself. Convincing you that what they’re saying aren’t normal and that you shouldn’t tolerate it. You’ve tried persuading him or more yourself that she’s your mother and she does it out of love.  
But she’s been ungrateful all week. As if she hasn’t been begging you to come home and talk to her. She comments on everything, your weight, your hair even your laugh. Saying you squeal like a pig, you tried to laugh less after that one. She hates her nails and all the presents you brought home. More than all, you’ve been dreading this happening. Hoping that it never would.  
“No, Mama, I do not know that you love me,” she gasps and begins screaming even more. “How could you not know? I raised you. I fed you, clothed you, gave you the deposit to get your degree. Which you don’t even use now!” The anger over comes you and you rise from your chair. “Carlos will gladly pay back all that money if I was such a burden on you!”  
The whole table goes eerily quiet. Soon it is interrupted by a scoff from your brother. “So what? He’s like your Sugar Daddy, right?” You take a moment to calm down, trying to decide if you’re going to say the truth. But they're your family. You should never lie to your family, right? “Yes,” you take his hand back into yours. You can see that he’s picked up his name and knows he’s being discussed.  
“What is that, Bérenger?” Your mother asks, switching between you and your brother. “She fucks him for money. A glorified prostitute!” His words are harsh and spit flies as he screams. You know for a fact that if Carlos understood French, he’d be raging.
“Unbelievable!” Your mother gasps out and another raging fire starts in you. “What? Is it so unbelievable that someone could actually love me so much that they’d pay to see me?”  
Years and years or anger and trauma, built up due to constant belittlement finally breaks through. “Why does it shock you all so much that he thinks I’m beautiful. That he thinks I’m more worth than all the riches in the world. You hate it that someone actually respects me, because you can’t knock me down anymore.”
Again, the table goes quiet before your brother speaks again. This time in English, clearly wanting Carlos to understand what he’s saying.  
“He doesn’t respect you. He doesn’t care for you. And he most certainly doesn’t love you. He just wants to fuck you. And once he’s bored of you, he’ll take what he’s given and leave you with nothing.” Before you can curse out your brother, a sharp crack is heard. Your brother is on the floor, nursing a bloody nose. “Don’t you ever, ever talk to her like that ever again.”  
You can hear your mother rambling on about her poor son and can only scoff at her reaction. “I’m not some city boy who doesn’t know how to throw a punch. You won’t believe how strong 6G’s of force make you.” Through all the commotion, there is a muttering that can be heard. Listening carefully, it is your father. “Get out, get out,” he repeats over and over.  
You bow your head down low, right by his ear but just shake off his words. This irritates him and he too raises his voice. “Get out, you’re no daughter of mine.” You laugh at his words, “Don’t be silly, Papa, you must be having one of your episodes.” You go to rub his back, in your mind to soothe him but he grabs your wrist before he can.  
“Hear me when I say this girl, because I am clear of mind when I do. While you are still whoring yourself out to this man, you are no daughter of mine.” The realisation hits you like a truck. So much so, that you stagger back, Carlos catching you as your head becomes dizzy. “Mi pequeña, what is the matter?” All you can do is shake your head.  
“Come, Carlos, it seems that we are not welcome here.”   
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Just so p.s. me not translating the French and Spanish is for a reason. I'm not just being spiteful, it is part of the storytelling. If you want to get a good grade in fanfic reading (which is totally possible and a very normal thing to want) feel welcome to translate it 😉
Tag list is open, just ask!
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esnotxkios · 8 hours
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- ; CHRIS STURNIOLO ; -
' experimenting ' - requested.
✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪
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- ; warnings - use of toys, plot(?), smut, established relationships , mutual masturbation,
- ; 11:13 am
you and chris left the house early this morning before matt and nick had even opened their eyes.
usually, you and chris would sleep later than them considering the nights you had together.
but no, last night you two went to sleep extremely early as your morning plans would require you to.
because in the afternoon while you were at work you received a text from your boyfriend.
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and this lead to where you are now.
in a sex shop.
in downtown LA.
at 11:30 in the morning.
- ; 11:28 am
"chris if you get a boner from those sex dolls we are leaving."
"too late."
although he was joking, you still shot him a look.
but he didnt look back.
instead, he was looking at the large array of vibrators infront of you two.
"what are you thinking?" he asked, looking at you attentively.
"of you fucking me with one of these." you turned your head and looked up at him innocently.
"i meant what kind of vibrator are you thinking of getting dumb a-"
"is there anything in specific you two are looking for?" a voice chimed in before chris could finish his retort.
it was a store employee with purple hair and a face adorned with peircings whose name tag read "sapphire"
"im just looking for something to make my girl feel good." chris answered way too casually.
you again, shot him a look, but his eyes were locked onto 'sapphire'
"well, we have a lot of that here!" she laughed awkwardly.
you cracked a smile back.
chris stayed expressionless before saying, "well do you recommend anything for first timers?"
how the fuck is he so casual about this? you thought.
"i think i have just the thing! its on the pricier side.. so let me know if you want something cheaper!"
sapphire then walked to the back of the store where you heard the rustling of boxes.
"damn that bitch talks a lot." you whispered
chris giggled at your remark before the purple haired girl came back with a fairly large box labled: inspiring vibrating wand: powerful vibrations
the box was about a foot tall with a long black well, wand, on the front. it had a bright orange label that had '149.99' on it.
intimated by the large thing, you looked at chris, who was smirking and shaking his head in delight.
"we'll take it." he said like he had done this a million times before.
"alright, perfect! meet me over at the register." sapphire walked over to the counter.
"chris!" you whispered sharply. "thats too expensive!"
you tugged on his hoodie to prevent him from waking over to the counter.
he stopped walking and turned around"hey, anything to make my girl feel good, alright?"
you couldn't help it but get red in the face at this.
you obliged and followed him to the register, thinking about what was to come.
- ; 11:44 am
the ride home was excruciating.
you pressed your thighs together as you thought of how your new item would be used.
"you alright, baby?" chris put his hand on your thigh, not taking his eyes off of the road.
you squirmed impatiently under his touch
"i might have to you the wand on you right when you get home, huh?"
-; 12:00 pm
you entered chris's room and sat on his bed.
chris walked in a few moments later, the box in hand.
he immediately sat down next to you and started opening it up.
he pulled out an instruction manual first, "damn they have a whole instruction manual for this bitch? maybe we shouldve gotten something different.."
you laughed. "it's probably just how to clean it or some shit."
"oh, then we will definitely need that." he looked up at you and smiled, gaining an ego boost after saying that.
you smacked his hand playfully.
then he took out the wand and clicked the button to the highest setting.
the head of it wirred loudly, which startled the both of you.
chris quickly turned it off and laughed, he tried to pretend he wasn't thinking about overstimulating your dripping cunt with it.
but, his manhood gave him away.
"we might just have to use this now." chris said playfully as he discarded the box onto the floor, leaving 6 inches between you and chris.
"but chris" you were cut off by a sloppy kiss on the lips from chris.
he pushed you down on the bed hovering over you, kissing you.
when you finally caught your breath you spoke, "what if matt and nick hear?"
"pfft. they wont be up for at least another 2 hours."
you giggled and resumed sloppily kissing.
lips still interlocked, chris moved to the side so you could take your sweatpants off, and you did the same for him.
the kiss lasted a few more minutes before chris could bear it anymore, and he took his boxers off.
you broke the kiss so you could look at his soaking member.
he stroked it a few times before picking up the wand.
you swallowed, it burned.
he turned it on the second lowest setting and pressed it against your cunt.
"mmh.." you let out a small moan in response.
chris moved the vibrator up and down your clothed pussy.
his cock twitched as he could visibly see how turned on you were by this.
and although you were extremely stimulated by the wand, his aching cock didnt go unnoticed by you.
you grabbed the wand from chris's hand, signaling for him to take off your panties.
he happily obliged to this, taking them off with his teeth, which grazed you as he did so.
he lowered his tounge down onto your pussy, licking it.
you shuddered.
he licked your pussy again, this time with more strength.
he licked again and again and again until he couldnt help himself from sucking.
you moaned loudly.
your hand was getting sore from holding the vibrator, so you brought it down and rested it against chris's leaking tip.
"fuck." he moaned into your pussy, sending vibrations up your core.
this went on for a few more moments until chris's hips started to shudder, and your breathing became more rapid.
chris sat up, taking the vibrator off of its resting place on his dick, and bringing it up to your pussy.
he stroked his cock at the sight of your cunt, and you convulsing.
as much as you were enjoying this, you still wanted to help chris, so you grabbed the base of his cock and moved his own hand off of it, jerking him off.
"oh yeah baby- fuck- just like that" he moaned out as the pace of your strokes increased, focusing on his tip.
you could tell he was getting close.
with he free hand he stuck two fingers into your pussy. curling them perfectly and they explored you.
but with the sight of your boyfriend jerking into your hand, vibrator which was now at the highest setting assaulting your cunt, the feeling you knew all too well crept up on you sooner than expected.
"fuck- chris im cumming!" you screamed, the pleasure washed over your whole body in waves.
you came all over his fingers, the movement of your hand on his cock become sloppy.
this was enough for chris to let out a long moan "shit- me too-"
he came all over your cunt, and the vibrator.
your breathing, although heavy, became synchronized with his.
"i guess we are gonna need that cleaning manual huh?"
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i have no fucken clue where i got this motivation to write so.. this took me like an hour tff😱
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withnofreetime · 28 days
Text
HETALIA ☆ WORLD STARS (514)
Germany/Japan: Este hombre está muerto, pero no le han avisado.
Translation notes at the end: ‘cuz I took a lot of “creative freedoms(?)” and sometimes I forgot the meaning of words (“kanji”). Warning: I don’t know Italian, German (my sister knows) and French (a bit). Bad words.
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T/N:
Page 1.
"Fratellone", an informal way to say "Big brother".
Page 2.
"All roads lead to my house", probably Sir Hima was trying to emphasize the proverb: "All roads lead to Rome".
"Avoglia", has too many meanings and uses, but in this case is "Of course!"
"Stronzi", plural of "Stronzo", literal meaning is "t*rd".
Page 3.
"Clown", I wanted France to speak French, but… there's no point...
"Bastardo", "bast*ard".
Page 4.
"C'est bon?!", two things: 1) it means "It's okay?" and 2) the diavolic song "Bon Bon Bon / C'est Bon C'est Bon!
"Merci", "thanks".
"Je vous apprécie!", in France is not common to say "I love you", so this is the most similar (and not creepy) I could find (thanks to French people of Reddit).
Page 5.
"Italie", "Italy".
Page 6.
"The City of Light", is called that because it was the first city to use gas as a source of street lights.
Page 7.
"En conséquence", because of "La Déclaration des Droits de L'Homme et du Citoyen". (Joke)
"Vaffanculo", a bad word, with a different meaning than the literal translation: "F*ck you".
"German tourists", in 2019, more than 12 million Germans travelled to Italy, and they are by far the number one. Ironically, for France (2018) it is almost the same with approximately 12 million German tourists arrived, and more than 18 million (2019) spent more nights there (second place, tho Italy is 58 million).
"Oddio", "oh, god!"
Page 8.
"Na", german slang "Hey!" (??)
Page 9.
"Je suis vraiment très belle!", "I'm really so beautiful!"
"Merci beaucoup", "Thank you very much!"
"Vero", an agreement word.
Page 10.
"England smile", I had two theories:
1) The story that Italy, the genius, has it all figured out is true and England knows it, or...
2) It has something to do with the fact that France's most visited tourists are from the UK, so sharing/robbing France's credit for winning "alone"; but it's unlikely because I don't see the point with what Francis says below.
"Che palle!", used to indicated frustration or annoyance, don't want to write down the literal meaning.
Page 11.
"Pfui" is a German expression to show disgust.
"È inutile piangere sul latte versato", an Italian idiom that translates to: "No use crying over spilt milk".
"Nein", "No".
"All part of the plan–!?", I have faith in Italy.
Introduction.
"Este hombre está...", "This man is dead, but he hasn't been warned", my words towards Italy and France.
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