#not a lot of mac songs... surprising. i know. he's like the only one I draw.

[majachee]

What are your favorite songs that describe your OCs?

OKAY THIS TOOK A WHILE TO ANSWER CUZ I HAD TO... REALLY THINK ON IT.

And like... I'm gonna do specific OCs and the overall story (that I'm consistently rewriting and all the lore I posted so far is outdated so I gotta DELETE-) rq so uh

:^)

First things first! I really do genuinely associate Helvegen and Voluspa by Wardruna with the first three major arcs of the story, essentially the Ragnarök/Norse mythos focused arc and the two introductory arcs leading up to it.

Helvegen translates to Path to Hel, one of the major afterlifes in Norse mythos. While many people interpret it as akin to Hell due to similar naming conventions, but it's much more akin to Asphodel from Greco-Roman mythology! It resembles every day life for mortals and it's where you go if you don't die in battle and go to Fólkvangr or Valhalla. Hel is also where Baldr's soul goes after he is accidentally slain by his twin Hoðr, and where the messenger Hermoðr goes to plead with Hela for Baldr's return.

The song, to me, is about loyalty and accepting one's death, with one of the lyrics being "I will follow you over the Bridge of Gjöll with my song." and another being "You will be free from the binds that bind you/you are free from the binds that bound you."

Other lyrics that stick out to me are; "Day's end or beginning/Only the Raven knows when I'll fall" - it's just MMMMMM. The song also ends with an old poem about death (which was also quoted in GoW:R and when that happened I SCREAMED) and just... AUYUGH.

The third arc of the story is focused on the prophecy of Ragnarök and how Odin and Loki are abusing others to warp the prophecy to their own individual advantages after Fimbulwinter swept through the lands early. Leading up to the eventual reveal in arc 4 regarding the concept of Fate as they know it. Remember when I said the Fates were kind of distant/uninvolved? That's not the case anymore :)) wink wink.

As for the song Voluspa? It's based on the best known poem from the Poetic Edda of the same name (Völuspá) that goes over the creation of the world, its end, and rebirth. So, really, I'm taking someone singing a poem about Norse mythology and applying it to my Norse mythos OCs. But like... the way it's performed gets me emotional, okay? Listen to Wardruna, please. They're a huge comfort band.

OKAY TIME FOR INDIVIDUAL OCS!!!! YIPPEEEEEE!!!!

New Year's Eve by Mal Blum is a Tyr song. I don't know how to explain it but the degrading relationship and emotions described in the song just... goes so well with Tyr's own feelings before his confrontation with Odin and before he and Fenrir disappeared from Asgard and Midgard. Before his disappearance, Tyr often defended his younger brothers from Odin and the other older gods (who were much more jaded than the younger youth), and once he was gone Asgard become a much for unhealthy place as its walls (metaphorical and literal) grew higher and thicker, more suffocating for the gods living there. Especially when Odin, the supposedly all knowing Allfather, began freaking out at, ya know, Fimbulwinter defying Fate. Yk, Fate, prophecy, something that the gods believe is concrete and unwavering. Uh oh.

Hoðr has Fish Inside a Bird Cage for his early life pre-Tyr-Be-Gone as he has a LOT of faith in his older siblings, until Stuff Happens :^))))

Kvitravn by Wardruna fits his main story arc, where he's begging and bartering for some kind of renewed faith in his family and the natural order of the world. Hoðr is a good guy, I swear I won't hurt him... much. (Lying)

Ravens are very important in Norse mythos, with Odin himself having two ravens (Huginn and Muninn) and being associated with the animals. Also I like corvids and I like Hoðr.

Shut Eye by Stealing Sheep and Little Dark Age by MGMT are Dionysus songs. I feel like it's just self explanatory. Also my life changed when I saw a classical Latin cover of Little Dark Age and Smells Like Teen Spirit.

You're Gonna Go Far, Kid has early story Macaque vibes. :^) pre-healing arc... hehe. My man would listen to edgy rock music like that, cmon.

Man on the Moon by Zella Day has Hypnos vibes. I love Zella Day...

Uhhhhhhhhh

The Garden by The Crane Wives is a song I associate with Ares for some reason, i dunno. Ask the animatic in my head lmao

.... I'm still developing the 4th arc characters and my brain works more in "these songs can make a hella good animatic for this story chapter/scene" than... uh... "wow. Just like my oc fr."

😔

THANK YOU FOR ASKING I LOVE OCS AND I LOVE MUSIC LISTEN TO WARDRUNA

[diyasgarden]

The Chain

pairing: Patrick Zweig x reader, minor Art Donaldson x reader

rating: explicit (18+)

word count: 28.3K

summary: Ever since you started at the Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy, it seemed like Patrick Zweig was out to make your life miserable. But as you both grow older and your relationship with him evolves in ways you couldn't have predicted, you find there is truly no escaping Patrick.

contains: mentions of bullying, infidelity, oral sex (m and f receiving), vaginal sex, cucking (somewhat), vaginal penetration with a tennis racket, depressive tendencies, reader slaps Patrick, reader is somewhat pathetic (i still <3 her)

author's note: Hi!! This is my first time ever writing a fic like this. Both in length and plot. Plus, it's my first time writing anything explicit. The idea was sent to me by @senseofnewness (absolutely brilliant!!!) and what was meant to originally be a short fic is now this. The name is taken from the Fleetwood Mac song of the same name, which I felt was fitting for the characters. I have a lot of mixed feelings on this fic, but I know loved it writing it. Enjoy <3

----

“Sign mine?” someone asks from above you. You look up from your seat on the bleachers to see Art Donaldson holding out his yearbook and a pen to you. You blankly stare at it and then your eyes dart around the area to see if someone is going to jump out of the corner laughing at you. It wasn’t like him to do so, but your mind automatically goes to thinking this is some sort of joke. When you’re unable to find anyone, you realize he is genuinely asking. Someone asking to sign your yearbook? Well that’s a first. You’re not friends with him, but then again you weren’t friends with anyone at the Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy. 

You reach out for the yearbook and pen without saying anything, but then realize how awkward the silence must be. “You may have to burn this afterwards,” you say in an attempt to make a joke to fill the silence, but see a frown form on his face and realize he doesn’t find it funny. You look down at the yearbook on your lap to hide the embarrassment and quickly scribble something, so this interaction can end. Have a good summer! Short and simple. As you hand the book and pen back to him, you hope this is the part where he walks away and you can finish your lunch. It’s 12:55 PM, you need to go soon. 

Except he just stands there. You look at him feeling confused. Now what? His eyes dart to the yearbook beside where you sit. It’s only then you realize he wants to sign your yearbook. Another first. You reluctantly take the book and hand it to him, the feeling that this is some sort of joke lingering in the back of your head. Again, Art never joined in on the teasing and it was kind of late to start, but who knows. You wouldn’t be surprised. 

He smiles as he opens to the back of the book and starts to write something down. “I’ll guess I’ll still be seeing you around in the fall” he comments in a tone that indicates there is more he wants to say. He pauses, looking at what he wrote, but then starts to write again. “Mhm,” you mumble with your mouth full. You’re both going to Stanford and both playing for Stanford Tennis. You got a full scholarship for the school, just like the one you had for the past six years at the academy. You wouldn’t have been able to pay for university without it. That was the best part of tennis for you: the doors it opened. 

You glance down at your watch again as you shove the last bit of your sandwich in your bag. It’s 12:57 now. You need to leave. He smiles as he finally hands the book back to you. “See you at graduation,” he says with a smile and a wave as he walks away. You wave back and look down to see what he wrote in the book. It was nice going to the Academy with you! Can’t wait to see you at Stanford. Keep in touch :) 

It is followed by a set of numbers. His phone number? Before you can think too much about this, you see on your watch it’s 12:59. You toss the book back into your bag, and leave. 

----

“Where were you?” Patrick asks the minute you open the door to his car and slide into the backseat beside him. He’s parked behind some shop, far enough from campus that no one will know who you are. He rarely picks the same place twice, but this area looks familiar for some reason. You’re not going to tell him about the little run in with Art, so you shrug and say, “Was finishing up some work.” He rolls his eyes, “We are graduating next week and you care about work?"

You just look at him with an annoyed expression, one that he clearly doesn’t care about, because it just makes him laugh. He then looks at you, taking in the furrow of your brows, before leaning in close to your face. He smirks, as his hand moves to your thigh. It slowly moves up underneath your skirt and you feel his fingers pull at the little spandex shorts you have underneath. Then his lips come down crashing on yours. 

----

Your classmates at the academy have a very surface level understanding of you. They know your family is poor. They know you can only attend the school because of a scholarship. And they all hate you. Curetsy of the one and only Patrick Zwieg. 

From the start he made it clear that he thought you didn’t belong in the academy. It’s not like your twelve year old self did anything to upset him when you first joined. He just took one look at you and decided your existence at the academy went against the laws of nature. And well he wasn’t wrong. You were surrounded by people who had enough privilege to coast through life, while you had none. You were well aware you were the black sheep. He was just rubbing salt in the wound.

Your first year at the academy was spent with the twelve year old Patrick calling you names any chance he got. As he got older, he just seemed to get more creative with the torment. From breaking your rackets and getting others to tease you, it got worse each year. By the time you turned fifteen, every single one of your classmates knew you as the broke scholarship student who should have dropped out ages ago. What they didn’t know was the fact you’ve been sleeping with Patrick.

It was junior year and the weekend before Christmas. You both were the only ones who hadn’t left for winter break yet. Your family always booked the cheapest flight for you, which usually means flying on Christmas day. While you don’t remember why he was still at the academy, you do remember running into him at the indoor courts. He made some comments about your family. You don’t remember exactly what but you assume it was something about your parent’s inability to spend money on a decent flight. Maybe it was the fact that you two were the only ones there, but something snapped inside you that day. You called him “a worthless trust fund kind who’d never amount to anything.” Your first time ever speaking back to him and that really set him off. The next thing you know he was dragging you into the locker room saying he was going to shove your head in the toilet.

For all the years he spent threatening to put your head in the toilet, this was the first time he ever actually acted on it. His grip on you was strong. You distinctly remember thinking that it was the end. And then just as he actually got you into the locker room, you saw you had the opportunity to do what everyone wishes they could to the men that make their life miserable: hit him right in the nuts. You punched him there hard and he fell to the ground.

The next thing you knew, you got on top of him while he laid on the ground and hit him. Years of pent up rage pouring out of you in your smacks and the insults you hurled at him. What happened after that was all a blur. You felt something poke your thigh and before you could even process the fact you somehow turned him on, his mouth crashed on yours and you both started making out on the floor of the boy’s locker room.

You didn’t see him after that. He went to go home the morning after and when Christmas day came you left too. What happened between the both of you in the locker room lingered at the back of your mind all throughout the break. The memory felt like a sinful secret that aroused you more than any form of smut or porn could. You even touched yourself to it. While that was slightly shameful, you weren’t surprised it affected you so much. The fact that you were a social pariah at the academy meant none of your classmates showed any interest in you, be it platonic, romantic, or sexual. It wasn’t your first kiss, but it was your first proper time making out with a boy. And you weren’t blind. Patrick may have been your bully, but you knew he was attractive. 

By the time January rolled around and you were back at the academy, you didn’t know what to expect. You didn’t know what effect that moment had on him. On one hand, you knew he got around and was not as sexually pent up as you, so maybe this was normal for him? On the other hand, he must have at least felt a bit of shock for making out with you considering the fact how he always treated you. Regardless, there was no universe in which you could imagine Patrick being nice to you. You saw him on the first day back in your history class, and just as if nothing happened, he insulted your hand-me-down backpack as you walked into the classroom. His friends laughed and joined in, and you realized whatever happened that weekend before Christmas was a freak accident. You just assumed things were now back to normal, up until he cornered you later that day behind the gym. A little nook where no one could see either of you. He bent down close to your face and threatened that if you ever told anyone he’d kill you. You felt heart race and thighs clench, but before you could give any response his lips were once again on yours. And that’s how it all started. 

----

“You’re playing in the US junior open?” Patrick asks as he sits up again, leaning against the car window, his face flushed and hair messy from the sex. 

You sit up as well as you nod in response. How did he find out about that? You guess some coach probably told him. You slowly reach for your clothes from the floor of the car, and look outside the window. This time you realize why it felt familiar. This is where he parked his car for you both to fuck after prom. You went alone (only because your mother called you saying you may regret it if you didn’t) and he went with another girl, but an hour after the dance ended you got a text from him telling you where to find him. Without a second thought, you went. 

You turn back to face him, as you pull on your shirt, and see he has a pensive expression as if debating something. “What?” you ask. “I didn’t know you qualified,” he says. You simply shrug in response, you weren’t sure how you qualified either. Tennis is an out of body experience at this point. When you watch your games, it never feels like you’re watching yourself. 

“Guess they let anyone play,” he says with a little chuckle looking out the window, although his voice isn’t mocking like in public. When he teased you in private, it always felt more playful. As if he wanted to make you laugh, not cry. You watch him look out the window to check if anyone is around. He turns back to you and says, "I have to get back for practice.” This was his way of saying: Now that we are done fucking, you need to leave.

You pull up your skirt and nod to let him know you got the message. You pick up your bag and step out of the car. Just as you start to walk back in the direction of campus, you hear the window of his car roll down and Patrick calling your name. You turn to face him and he asks, “Same time tomorrow?” You should say no, but instead you say, “Sure.”

----

Your last week at the Academy was relatively peaceful. Some name calling here and there, but as graduation got closer no one seemed to have the energy to bother you. Everyone was busy talking about their summer plans, the junior open, or where they were going in the fall. Nearly everyone committed to one university or another, either to play tennis there or just to get a degree. Only Patrick chose to go pro, which wasn’t a surprise considering he was always vocal about how pointless university was. You two spent the last week hooking up in his car behind random buildings and in abandoned parking lots after classes ended, but the last time you actually saw him was at graduation. After the ceremony, you headed out towards your parents and saw him standing with a serious expression as two adults talked to him. His parents you guessed. As you watched him, he turned to face you as his parents continued to talk, not noticing his attention was elsewhere, and you both just looked at each other. 

You broke eye contact first when your parents asked you to pose for a photo. You never told them about how awful the other students treated you at the academy. Mostly because you knew they would have pulled you out. You didn't want that because you were aware that the public school in your home town wouldn’t have given you half as good of an education as the academy. As a result, they thought everything was great and were eager to memorialize the time you spent there, taking photos of every game and event they could attend. Although, this you could agree was momentous. Graduation meant you were leaving the academy behind, so you happily posed for them.  By the time they were done snapping pictures of you in your cap and gown and you looked around for Patrick, he was nowhere to be found. Of course he wouldn’t have come up to you, and you wouldn’t have gone up to him. But you expected something more than whatever that was. It felt like an anticlimactic ending to the past six years. 

The summer last year, the one in between junior and senior year, you had kept in contact, but it was really just phone sex at least once a week. This summer he hadn’t reached out once. You didn’t either, choosing to spend an embarrassing amount of time thinking about him instead. You told yourself that it was a much needed reflection on your relationship with Patrick, which regardless of how bizarre and unconventional was still your first relationship. In all fairness, relationship was too generous of a word, but you couldn’t think of what else to call it. You lost your virginity to him and you were sleeping together for over a year. Consistently too, as you met up multiple times each week. Of course it was always on his terms. You met when he wanted to meet. Always in private and never doing anything in public that could even hint at what they were doing. He was still awful to you in front of others. A part of you hated the fact that someone you made your life so miserable could make you feel so good, but a larger part was ready to comply with anything he wanted. It was sadistic, but you couldn’t help but find it poetic that the first guy to make you break down in public was also the first guy to make you come.

You tried to occupy the time by spending time with your family, being in the sun, and practicing tennis, but nothing was enough to expel Patrick from your mind. By the time the junior open came around, you were grateful to have something else to focus on. 

----

You got out of the open when you lost a semi finals match against Anna Mueller. You didn’t even expect to get that far, so you were unphased by the loss. Your family was proud and you had one more match in the evening against the player who lost the other girls’ singles semi final. It was just to determine who’d place third and who’d place fourth, and you were fine with either. You decided to pass the time till then by taking a little walk around the center where the open was being held. It was your first time here, so you may as well explore. 

Just as you stood in front of a board in the entry hall of the center detailing its history, you heard a familiar voice say to you, “Great match yesterday. You were amazing.” 

You turned around to see the strawberry blonde you only expected to see again at Stanford stand in front of you. He is smiling and you can tell he is being genuine when he says it, but that doesn’t stop you from saying, “Well I lost.”

Art simply shrugs in response, “You still played well.” Unsure what to say in response, you nod slowly. You can feel your eyes go downcast , and an awkward silence forms between the both of you. He swallows and looks at you as the awkwardness grows. Then suddenly he says, “You never called.”

“Huh?” you respond looking up at him. “Your yearbook…I wrote down my number,” he reminds you in a slow voice, his cheeks flushing pink as he does. You can see he is embarrassed, but you honestly did forget about his message in your yearbook. 

“Oh..that,” you say with a forced laugh, trying to seem normal. If you were unsure how to respond to his compliment about your game, you are at a genuine loss of words on how to acknowledge this. He surely couldn’t have actually expected you to call him over the summer? You came to the conclusion that he left his phone number as a formality because you were both going to Stanford. A way to contact him once you both got there. 

Art lets out a forced little laugh too, and you can see he feels equally awkward by this interaction. For a moment, it looks like he is about to say something, until you hear an even more familiar voice ask, “What’s going on here?”

Both you and Art turn to the direction where the voice came from and see Patrick standing there. While you imagined the moment you’d run into Patrick again, nothing you imagined was as awkward as this. His summer tan is visible against the white of his shirt, and you bite down on your back teeth to stay focused. His eyes dart between you and Art and it’s clear he has picked up on whatever awkward energy is radiating off the both of you. For a moment you think he is going to laugh or crack a joke about your inability to hold a conversation, but his eyebrows just furrow.

Art’s eyes go to the side, unable to hold the weight of Patrick’s gaze, and you realize it’s up to you to say something, “We were just talking about my game yesterday,” you say. 

“Against Anna Mueller,” Patrick says and you nod. “The one you lost,” he then adds. Art shoots him an expression you can’t read, but one that Patrick obviously understands because he shrugs and adds on, “What? She did lose.”

Art just sighs and turns back to you, “We should get going. We have our doubles final in an hour.”

“Oh good luck,” you say with a little nod. Of course they were in the doubles competition together. Fire and Ice. While you knew they were the poster child for being a duo in every sense of the word, you always found it hard to associate both boys with each other like everyone else did. Art was the only one of Patrick’s friends who didn’t make fun of you. When Patrick or any of this other friends said something, he’d just sit there watching. Which was always a bit strange considering he was his best friend. 

“You’ll come watch?” Art then asks slowly. 

This request surprises both you and Patrick, who’s eyebrows shoot up a little bit. “Uh...yeah sure,” you say with a little shrug. It feels too awkward to say no to Art right now, even if you don’t fully understand why he wants you at the game or want to go in the first place. Art just smiles in response, and waves a bit as he walks off. He stops when he notices Patrick just stands there looking at you. 

You look at Patrick and you see he has a stony expression on his face directed right at you. “Patrick?” Art asks, and as if shaken back to reality Patrick’s face instantly goes back to normal.

He turns to Art and with a little nod Patrick says, “I came in to use the bathroom. You head out, I’ll catch up to you later.” Art simply nods and walks to exit the center and head back to the courts. Both you and Patrick watch Art leave, and the minute he is out of the door, Patrick walks over and grabs your wrist before you can even process what’s going on. “Come,” is all he says as he starts to walk, taking you along with him. You soon realize he is taking you into the bathroom with him. He opens the door to the men’s bathroom and then takes you into a stall. He locks it behind him. 

Patrick looks at you for a moment and then asks in a low voice, “So what were you and Art actually talking about? “We were talking about my game,” you say with a nod. “Don’t bullshit me,” he says with an expression that shows he knows you’ve left something out. 

You just look at him for a moment, staring into his green eyes, which stare right back at you with a serious look. You assume he is worried that you may have told Art about the two of you. You shrug and admit, “He gave me his number.” Patrick just looks at you, but before he can say anything, you add on “Not like right now, but before school ended.”

“At the academy?” he asks, his voice tinged with slight disbelief. “He wrote it in my yearbook,” you say. “What? So you’ve been texting him or something?” Patrick then asks, his voice irritated now. You shake your head no and his eyebrows furrow as if trying to determine if you’re lying or not. Something about your expression must make him realize you’re being honest, because after a few seconds he nods in response. He looks to the side and then back to you. “You’re actually going to come to the game?” he then asks. You shrug in response, at this point, you’d feel bad for not showing up, so you’re going to be there anyway. “I guess so. Yeah,” you mumble with a little nod. 

“Give me a good luck kiss then” he says. You blink once, not expecting this, but then comply anyway. You have to stand on your tiptoes to reach his lips, and once you do, you plant a kiss on them. You can feel him smile underneath your lips, and in a low voice he says, “Cute, but you know that’s not what I meant.” His hand reaches for yours and you feel it move to his groin, and you can feel he’s hard already. “You’ve been wearing the same tennis skirts for the past three years. They’ve always given me a nice view of your ass.” His other hand sneaks underneath your skirt as he rests a hand on your spandex short and then gives your ass a squeeze. Of course this is what he brought you in here for. You remember how you spent the past month reflecting on moments just like that. How you spent hours analyzing your relationship with him under the impression that it was over. But with your hand gently palming his crotch in the bathroom stall, you realize how wrong you were.

Could you both get disqualified for this? Anyone could come into the bathroom, and it would be obvious what was happening, even in the stall. Even with these concerns, you sink to your knees without a second thought, as he starts to pull down his shorts. He doesn’t even bother pulling it down fully, just enough to be exposed. 

You lick your hand and then place it on the base of his length, getting a whimper from him in response, as you slowly start to move it up and down. You move your lips to his tip, and slowly wrap it around his cock. He moans as you start giving him sloppy sucks and continue to move your hand. He pushes himself deeper into your mouth and you yelp, and this elicits another moan, “God.” His hands reach down to your head. His hands wrap around your hair, holding it, and start to pull your head back and forth. As he continued to thrust in your throat, you felt his public hair brush against your nose. Realizing you’re fully taking him, you move your hand from the base of his dick to cupping his sack with a slight squeeze, which just makes him moan even more. “Don’t stop.” You did your best to match the pace of your squeezes to his thrusts, and after a few minutes of this, he pulled back, just leaving just the tip. You felt him throb around your lips and shortly after he came in your mouth. 

He smiles down at you as you swallow, and then pulls you up by the shoulders and kisses you on his lips. His tongue snakes into your mouth and after a minute of tasting himself on your lips, he pulls away and smiles at you. “See you at the game,” he says with a smile, as he then opens the stall door and walks out. You just stand there, as you hear the door to the bathrooms open and close, trying to ignore the growing ache between your legs. 

----

You end up getting to the game midway through the first set and sit in the bleachers surrounded by other people. You hope that neither Art nor Patrick can see you, but of course they do. During the break Art smiles and gives you a little wave, and Patrick just flashes a smirk. The same smile he gave you in the men’s bathroom thirty minutes ago and your stomach does a flip. You didn’t get the chance to take care of yourself after that, busy trying to process what happened and denying the fact that you are wet. You’re failing at the latter as you feel your thighs clench at seeing him on the court. The game continues and you feel the ache grow as you watch Patrick play. The way his body moves as he runs to the ball and his grunts as he hits it all seem to make your wetness grow.  Your thighs clench as you see his shirt ride up a bit to hit the ball and you catch a glimpse of his abs and happy trail. 

The sight makes you lose whatever remaining reason you have, as you get up and mutter sorry as you climb over the other people in the row to get away. You go down the bleachers and walk around until you find the closest bathroom. Once you spot it, you nearly run into it and lock the door. Unlike the bathroom you were in earlier, this one has no stalls. Just for one person, and you feel grateful for the privacy. You walk over to the sink, resting both hands on its sides and slowly leaning on it. You look at yourself for a minute, your face is slightly red and your breathing is labored. 

You take a deep breath as you close your eyes and your hand sneaks down between to the ache. Your fingers find your throbbing clit and you start making slow little circles as you think about Patrick on the court. The more you lose yourself in the memory, the more your fingers speed up. The way his biceps flexed. The slight jiggle of his thighs. The abs. The happy trail. Every single grunt. It’s not long before you moan and feel yourself come undone. As you feel yourself come off your high, your eyes shoot open and you look at yourself in the mirror. Your breathing is even more erratic and your face more flushed. A wave of clarity washes over you and then you just feel pathetic. 

You wash your hands and splash some water on your face. As you step out of the bathroom, you’re certain that the game is still going on, but don’t feel up to going back and watching. You know Art and Patrick will probably win anyway, and you need to get out of the clothes. As you walk back to the hotel, you’re sure you can smell your arousal. 

----

Besides the weird events of the afternoon, your game went well. You won and that placed you third overall. You sip your sprite as you look around the lights that are strung from tree to tree at the Adidas Long Island party. It was being held for Tashi Duncan, who was the winner of the girls single US junior open. Like anyone in the tennis world, you had heard of her before. The next Serena Williams. It was disappointing your game was the same time as hers because you’re sure it would have been amazing to watch her play. Originally, you weren’t planning on coming, but when your parents found out your mom pulled out the one nice dress she made you pack just in case you needed it and insisted you go. After the events of this afternoon and winning your game in the evening, you admitted that the party was a nice distraction and celebration for those things respectively.

 Even though the beach area is a bit far from where the party is, you can somewhat see the waves from there. You take another sip of your drink and watch the waves for a moment, before you hear a voice come up from behind you. “It’s pretty right?” you turn to see Art. God does this man have a thing for sneaking up on you. He looks at you with a small smile, and it’s clear he only said that to start a conversation with you.

“Yeah…it is,” you respond with a little nod. Your throat feels dry so you take another sip of your drink, and to prevent an awkward silence “Your game was good.” 

“Thanks…” he says with a little nod. His eyes glance to the side and then he says in a slow voice, “You left midway.” 

“I got a little nervous about my game, so I just went back to the hotel to relax for a bit,” you lie with a little too much ease. 

Art nods and it looks like you’re in the clear. It’s not like he could predict the real reason you left anyway.  “Congrats on the win,” he then says with a little nod. “I wish I could have come but I was at the..” his voice trails off as he motions to a poster of Tashi hung up across the party. 

“Oh..no yeah,” you say, it makes sense he was at that final. “I’m sure that would have been much more interesting,” you add on with a little laugh that just slips out. Art lets out a little laugh too, and it finally seems as if you’ve moved away from the awkwardness all your conversations have. 

You both look at the posters of Tashi and relax in the now non-awkward silence between the both of you. It’s short lived, because a minute later you both see Patrick standing by the poster looking at the both of you. You can sense Art tensing up beside you, and you’re sure your reaction is equally fraught. You take a sip of your sprite in an attempt to hide your expression behind the bottle. 

Patrick is gripping a coke bottle and looks at both of you with an irritated look. Then his gaze singles in on Art. His expression seems to communicate the words get over here. Art looks at him with an expression that says what? Patrick holds the expression and Art sighs, “I’ll be right back” 

You nod as you watch Art walk over to Patrick by the posters. As Art approaches him, Patrick’s gaze goes back to you for a moment but then falls to the ground as if he is unable to make eye contact with you. For a moment you find it hard to believe this is the same man who was shoving his cock down your throat earlier today. His gaze goes to Art again and he immediately starts saying something to him. You take a sip from your drink, and see both boys get lost in conversation, but you’re too far to hear about what. Patrick is probably talking bad about you anyway. You turn to look away and back at the waves. Even though the party is outside, it suddenly feels too claustrophobic to any longer be enjoyable. 

----

You’ve been walking around the estate for the past ten minutes to get rid of the feeling. It’s a bit chilly, but is nice enough to just wander around aimlessly. “Hey!” you hear a woman’s voice call out in the distance followed by your name. You turn to see Tashi Duncan walking towards you. Now this had to be the most surprising part of that night. You give a small smile and wave as she gets closer. 

Once she’s standing by you she says, “I didn’t know you came.” And you didn’t expect her to know who you were so you were both surprised. You shrug and say, “Well thought I would stop by.” 

“It’s nice right,” she comments as she begins to walk and looks out at the water in the distance. You nod in response and get the feeling that she wants you to walk alongside her, so you do. “Yeah…You look nice,” you tell her, unsure what else to say, “Thanks. You do too,” she says with another smile as she looks at you. You know she’s just returning the compliment for the sake of it, but you smile in response anyway. After a moment she says, “I actually wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh?” you respond, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. This whole day feels like one long fever drink. “I’m going to Stanford too,” she explains. “You’re one of the names they mentioned when I committed.” You nod in response. You have a vague memory of a Stanford representative emailing you with a list of others who were going to play alongside you, but you didn’t really take the time to go through it. As long as you had your full ride, you couldn’t care less. Before you can respond, she speaks again. “Thought maybe I could get your number or email, so we could talk. You know, get to know each other.”

“Oh...yeah...of course” you say a little awkwardly. You say your number and then add on “My email is just my full name at Gmail dot com” She nods with a smile, but before either of you say anything else, something catches Tashi’s eye. Then you see her waving to someone in the distance. Your eyes follow her gaze to Patrick and Art on a bench. They knew each other? All you wanted to do was run in the other direction. She starts to walk towards them, and you trail behind her, feeling too awkward to walk away. Patrick’s eyes lock on you for a moment, a flicker of surprise on his face. Art just smiles seeing both of you walk over. 

As soon as you both are close enough, Art begins talking but you’re unable to pay attention. You find your eyes downcast, as all three of them engage in a conversation. You feel unbearably warm even though the night air is chilly. Your eyes glance at Patrick and then dart away. You feel both the urge to step closer to him and walk away. 

Suddenly they all get up and start to walk, but you’re still standing there. Tashi turns around and calls your name. You look up and hear her add, “You coming?” All three of them look at you waiting for an answer, but you lock eyes with Patrick who’s jaw seems to tick as soon as you do. Your gaze goes back to Tashi. “Sorry, yeah,” you say as you walk to them. 

----

Once again you find yourself completely zoning out while the rest of them are engaged in some conversation. It’s like you’re not even there. You sit on a rock by the water, reaching your hand down to feel it. You don’t even bother looking at the direction of the rest of them, knowing your eyes would lock in on Patrick again. 

“What do you think?” you hear Tashi ask as she turns to face you. You turn to her, your face blank, having no clue what they were talking about. Once she registers the confusion, she adds “About tennis being a relationship?” 

You’re not even given a chance to respond before Patrick goes, “Looks like it’s someone’s bed time.” No one is amused by the comment. Art looks at his cigarette and Tashi rolls her eyes at him. Thankfully, when Tashi turns back to you, waiting for an answer, you realize Patrick’s comment has provided you with a way out of this. “Yeah…I’m feeling a bit tired…I should probably get back to the hotel,” you say as you stand up. 

Tashi’s lips press together as she looks at you, you assume she is judging you, so you look away and brush some sand off your dress. “Oh” Art says as he looks at you, with a little nod. Patrick gives Art a look from the side of his eye, but then looks at you as he brings a cigarette up to his lips. 

“Yeah…I’m leaving tomorrow so...” your voice trails off as you say it, not really sure why you added that part. You doubt that any of them care. 

“See you at school,” Tashi then says. 

You give her a wave and a small smile back, as you walk away from the three of them on the beach. 

----

You’re unable to sleep. It’s around one am. Your parents are fast asleep on their side of the hotel room, but you're too restless to do so. You pick up your phone and see a few new messages. 

Patrick: That was the same dress you wore for the formal in sophomore year. I can’t believe you still have it. (sent 1:07 AM, 07/24/06)

You can hear his voice when you read it. You can imagine the little laugh after he says it. You then see there is one more message.

Patrick: You looked cute. Wish I could have fucked you in it. (sent 1:08 AM, 07/24/06)

You roll your eyes but find yourself smiling anyway.

You: Night Patrick (sent 1:10 AM, 07/24/06)

Patrick: Night ;) (sent 1:10 AM, 07/24/06)

----

The rest of your summer was spent messaging Tashi. She wasn’t lying when she said she wanted to get to know you. You got an email from her as soon as you got home from the open, and soon that turned into exchanging messages everyday with each other. Your conversations ranged from tennis to other things, like about your family and your other interests. It was new to have someone so interested in you. You had to admit, it was a nice feeling, even if you didn’t understand where it came from. 

Tashi: You know you never talk about the academy. (sent 2:45 PM, 08/09/06)

You: Don’t have much to say. (sent 2:45 PM, 08/09/06)

Tashi: Really? (sent 2:46 PM, 08/09/06)

You don’t want to rehash your time there. You don’t want to think about that. And you especially don’t want to think about Patrick either. After that day at  the junior open, you only heard from him once, through a message asking how your summer has been. He sent no response when you said fine and asked how he had been. You’re not even sure why you were talking about the academy with Tashi. Why did she suddenly seem interested? 

You: I just didn’t have a great time there. Just didn’t have many friends. (sent 2:50 PM, 08/09/06)

A safe response. Enough of an explanation, without any details. 

Tashi: Oh (sent 2:51 PM, 08/09/06)

You: Being the poor scholarship kid and stuff. (sent 2:52 PM, 08/09/06)

You decide to add on for good measure. 

Tashi: Oh yeah, it makes sense. It’ll make a great story when you go pro tho. Who doesn’t love an underdog. (sent 2:55 PM, 08/09/06)

Somehow Tashi is under the impression that you will eventually go pro. You’re not exactly sure when or how this assumption formed, but she mentions it so casually you don’t want to tell her that you’re unsure about this.

You: True. (sent 2:56 PM, 08/09/06)

You stare at your phone and then quickly send another message. 

You: You’re curious about the academy? (sent 2:56 PM, 08/09/06)

Tashi:  I was talking about it with Patrick. (sent 2:57 PM, 08/09/06)

You feel your heart drop as you look at the message. You didn’t know they still talked. With Art it would make sense. Another person she’d see around at Stanford, but Patrick? Why was she talking to Patrick? 

You: Patrick? (sent 2:57 PM, 08/09/06)

Tashi: We’re kind of going out. (sent 2:57 PM, 08/09/06)

You read the message over again. And then again. They were going out with each other? You feel a weird knot form in your chest. She was going out with Patrick. The same Patrick who bullied you all throughout school? The same Patrick you spent over a year hooking up with you in private? You bite the inside of your cheek as you type back a response. 

You: Oh I didn’t know. (sent 2:58 PM, 08/09/06)

Tashi: It’s a long story. (sent 2:58 PM, 08/09/06)

Before you can even send a message back, you get a call from her. She spends the next hour explaining everything. The hotel room. The kiss. The deal. And then the boys’ final. Patrick won her number fair and square. Shortly after she and Patrick went out and then slept together. The knot in your chest only grows as you hear her speak. You do your best to ignore it. 

“That's…that’s a lot,” you say, unsure how to even process anything she just said. 

“I know,” she says on the other end. She exhales, and then asks, “Anyway, did you buy a fan for your dorm?”

----

“Let’s grab dinner?” Tashi asks as she walks from the court towards you, Art trailing behind her as he wipes his forehead with a towel. 

You nod as you grab your backpack. “Yeah let’s go,” you respond. 

“Let me change and then we’ll head out,” Tashi says, as she heads into the locker room. Tashi always practiced later than everyone else, a true testament to her passion. Everyone else finished and left an hour ago. Only you and Art stayed back with her, and now you both were the only ones on the court. 

Transitioning into college life was easy enough. All that time spent messaging Tashi meant coming into college with a friend. Your classes were interesting and you did well. You became friends with others on the tennis team, although most of your time was spent with Tashi and Art. He always seemed to be following the both of you around, which would have been strange if you didn’t know about the fact he was into Tashi. The fact she was dating Patrick, seemed to have no effect on his attraction. 

Your stomach grumbles, and Art hears. He smiles and asks, “Hungry?” You let out a laugh in response and ask, “What gave it away?” 

He laughs in response and then he looks at you as if studying his expression for a moment. His face becomes slightly serious and you know he has something to say. “What is it?” you ask. “Nothing,” he says with a shrug, feigning a nonchalance you both know doesn’t exist. “Art,” your voice is more serious now too. 

This was bound to happen. You always knew that he would eventually visit them. He was dating Tashi and Art is his best friend. Of course he would come. The thought makes your stomach flip and you bite down on your back teeth. 

Your inability to conceptualize Art and Patrick’s friendship, was a large part in why you were able to become friends with Art. But in moments like this, the only thing you could see when you looked at him, was Patrick Zweig’s best friend. Consumed in your thoughts, you say nothing in response. You only even register the silence, when you hear Art say “I should go change too before we go eat.” You nod and watch him walk away. 

----

“So Art told you?” Tashi asks from across the bed as she looks up at you from the calculus homework you’re both trying to work through. She doesn’t have to say what she is talking about, you already know what. “Yeah,” you say, still looking at your work. 

“I was going to tell you,” she says, with a little shrug, still looking at you. “Is it a big deal?” 

“It’s not,” you respond quickly as you try to focus on the problem. 

“No I think it is,” she says with a little huff, which causes you to look up from the work. “You act so weird whenever he’s brought up.” You just shrug in response and it’s almost ironic how much you’re proving her point right now. You look back down at the graphs on your paper “He acts like this too,” she then says. Now that gets your attention. You look up again and ask, “He does?” 

“Like anytime you come up in conversation he gets weird,” she says with a shrug. They’ve talked about you before? Before you have the chance to process this revelation, she says, “And you both act strange around each other” 

“You’ve only ever seen us interact once,” you say with a forced laugh, looking down at the paper again and remembering that night on the beach. “Yeah I know, but still,” she says with a shrug. Then she asks, “Did something happen between the two of you at the academy?” 

The right answer to this question: Too much to discuss right now. You just shrug again and say, “We didn’t get along” 

Tashi just nods as she mulls over your response. Before she can find some flaw in your answer to probe at, you decide to change the subject by asking, “Did you figure out question 3?”

----

The day Patrick comes to Stanford is a Friday. You go to class, then to practice, and everything is normal until you get a text from Art around seven pm. 

Art:  He’s here. Meet in my dorm in a half hour? (sent 6:58 PM, 09/15/06)

You: See you then (sent 6:59 PM, 09/15/06)

Tashi had already told you how she wanted all of you to go out together when Patrick came, so you more or less expected a text like this. Even with the expectation, your chest has knots and your stomach flips. You pick at the skin of your cuticles as you walk back to your dorm and once you get there you sit down on the bed trying to create some expectation for the night. Your mind is blank, and you realize you should probably get ready. 

You grab some jeans and a nice top, throw it on and then take a look at yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair. A part of you hates yourself for caring how you look right now. But it’s not large enough to stop you from putting on lipstick and eyeliner. You take one last look at yourself before heading out. 

When you get to Art’s dorm, you realize you’re the first one to arrive. “Hey,” he says with a smile sitting on the edge of his bed. You walk over with a smile and sit down next to him. You’re about to greet him when your eyes fixate on the picture of him and Patrick on his bedside table. It looks like it was taken about the junior open, with both of them holding the trophy they won. He follows your gaze to it, and you both look at it for a moment. “I actually…” he starts and you turn to him. “I wanted to talk to you about—”

“And here I was thinking that I was early.” Both of you look to the door and see Patrick standing there. There is a flash of annoyance on his face, but it’s quickly covered up with a laugh and a raised eyebrow. Art just looks at Patrick, a mild look of disappointment on his face. “What a warm welcome,” Patrick says sarcastically, which causes the icy look on Art’s face to slowly disappear, a small smile forming instead. Patrick looks at you and you feel your heartbeat speed up just from the look. You think he’s about to pull out one of the insulting nicknames he coined for you at the academy. “Let’s go?” you hear Tashi ask as she walks into the room too. Patrick smiles at her and wraps a hand around her waist. You bite the inside of your cheek. You nod in response, as you walk towards the door. You don’t let yourself look at Patrick, even though you feel his gaze on you. You tell yourself you imagined it. 

----

Tashi picked out this bar by campus to go to. As a place that doesn’t check IDs and has cheap drinks. Naturally, it’s full of students. You’re two drinks in and feel slightly drunk. You’re sitting at the bar sipping on your third, talking to some girl from your French literature class. Whatever you said must have been funny, because she is laughing. You laugh with her, before someone taps her on the shoulder and her attention is pulled elsewhere. You look down at your drink as you take another sip. “Looks like someone has friends now.” You turn to see Patrick taking the seat next to you at the bar, he already has a drink in his hand. His voice is playfully teasing and he has a grin on his face. The same expression he’d make when he would hand back a racket of yours he just broke or look up at you from in between your legs. “Well I guess people like me now,” you say, your inhibitions lowered by the alcohol. It’s the first real conversation you had with him all night and you want it to be over already. Your heart beat picks up again. He lets out a little laugh at your response, finding your retort amusing. He’s close enough that you can get the scent of the marlboro reds he smokes and his cologne. His eyes flick from your eyes to your lips and then to your eyes again.   

“Didn’t realize you were so close with Tashi,” he then pauses and then in a little more serious voice adds, “Art now too.” You just blink at him in response. You see his jaw tick again, and this along with the change in tone sets off a signal in your head and you sit up a bit straighter as you look at him. You don’t have the chance to get a word as Patrick continues, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on between you and Art, but it ends here okay.” His voice is serious and so is his gaze. He leans in a bit more and his nose bumps yours. It feels as if his stare is burning holes through your head. You were used to Patrick being mean, but this was different. For starters, he was never that rude to you in private after the locker room incident that started your little relationship. And his treatment usually served to mock or humiliate you in some way. This felt as if was putting his foot down about something. “Okay?” he asks again due to your silence. Your heartbeat speeds up even more. 

“Okay,” you repeat in a small voice, feeling like a child who is being reprimanded for something. He doesn’t like that you’re friends with Art?

He looks at you as if analyzing your expression. He remains close and his eyes flick down to your lips. For a moment you think he’s going to kiss you. Or drag you to the bar bathroom for a quick fuck. He then just huffs, as he steps back and takes a sip of the drink in his hand. You instantly feel stupid for your previous thoughts. He is dating Tashi. Tashi who is a literal goddess on earth. There is no reason for him to want you anymore. Whatever happened in school is over. The incident at the open was just a weird epilogue. But now it is done. 

“You should stop doing that,” he says. You realize his gaze is now directed at your hands. He makes a little motion to where you’ve picked off the skin by your cuticles. “It’s not good for you.” he says, still looking at it. His gaze comes back to you and the minute you both make eye contact he looks away. He looks across the bar and he must see either Tashi or Art because he smiles in that direction and walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your drink. 

----

Your head is throbbing and you feel nauseous just thinking about the hangover you’ll probably have tomorrow morning. You can’t remember the last time you were this drunk. Have you ever been this drunk? You can’t even remember how much you had to drink at this point. You manage to stumble out of the bar and the fresh air is so refreshing you smile. It’s a 10 minute walk back to your dorm, you’re sure you can make it. You move slowly, and as you pass by the alleyway by the bar you see Art and Patrick sharing a cigarette. They’re far enough and too immersed in their conversation to see you.

“I can’t believe we’re still talking about this,” you hear Patrick say with a scoff. 

“I don’t get why you think it’s such a big deal,” Art responds. 

This draws out a laugh from  “No you know why I think it’s a big deal, and honestly man thought you were over this.” Patrick says as he takes the cigarette Art is holding and takes a drag. “Aren’t you into Tashi now."

Art scoffs and looks to the side. “Jesus Patrick.” This just makes Patrick laugh. “This is not about Tashi, this is about—” 

Patrick cuts him off and goes, “A girl who is and has always been a pathetic loser.” It’s then you realize that the person they’re talking about is you. 

Art sighs and takes the cigarette back with a sigh. “I like her.” As his words sink in, your earlier conversation with Patrick makes a lot more sense. It’s too dizzying to think about, and it makes you feel even more exhausted than you already are. You look at the road ahead of you and continue stumbling your way back to the dorm. 

----

You spent the rest of the weekend Patrick was on campus in your dorm room. You woke up with an awful hangover and messages from all three of them. Tashi and Art were just about how they didn’t see you leave and asking if you got back to the dorm fine, Patrick’s was something different all together. 

Patrick:  Don’t forget what we talked about. (sent 9:38 AM, 09/16/06)

You don't respond to him. You wouldn’t even know how if you wanted to. You texted Art and Tashi that you were all fine, just miserably hung over. 

Tashi: Want to grab breakfast? (sent 9:45 AM, 09/16/06)

You: Think I want to sleep for some more time. (sent 9:46 AM, 09/16/06)

Until Monday, hanging out with them meant hanging out with Patrick, and that was the last thing you wanted to do. So you told you you just wanted to lie down because of the hangover. Then when she asked if you wanted to hang out again in the evening, you lied about needing to finish a paper for the literature seminar you were taking. After that she must have got the hint, because she left you alone for the rest of the weekend. The next time you saw her or Art was on Monday during tennis practice. No Patrick in sight. 

----

Whoever said out of sight, out of mind, was a liar. You desperately wanted things to go back to normal after that weekend, but that ease you felt during your first month at Stanford never fully returned after Patrick’s visit. It’s been a couple weeks since then and Patrick still plagued your thoughts. 

Whatever friendship that had formed between you and Art was quickly dying. You couldn’t even look at him without alarm bells in your head going: Walk away! Walk away! Patrick’s words echoed in your ears anytime you looked at him. The distance you had created between Art and Patrick was gone, and when you looked at Art you now could only see Patrick’s best friend staring back. You avoided being alone with him at all costs. 

Art: Want to grab breakfast together before class tomorrow? (sent 8:27 PM, 10/02/06)

You: I’ll let you know in the morning! (sent 8:28 PM, 10/02/06)

You’d probably lie about sleeping in or fake some illness to get out of that. 

“Is that Art?” Tashi asks from across the bed. You nod and lie, “Just a question about practice.” She nods in response, as she looks back at the homework both of you are working through together. Patrick may have destroyed your friendship with Art, butyour friendship with Tashi was fine.

Although it had become increasingly difficult to avoid the fact she was dating Patrick. After his visit, you could find traces of him all around her room. You can see the little note he left that she pinned to her bulletin board, and as you looked down at your book on the bed, it hit you that Patrick had slept on the bed you currently sit on. That he and Tashi probably had sex there. It makes you feel nauseous and aroused at the same time. You make a mental note to invite Tashi to your dorm room to study next time.  

Not to mention, that brief moment you thought something was going to happen between you and Patrick at the bar. The drunken embarrassment you felt at that moment, has turned into sober shame. If Patrick had tried to make a move, you had a sinking feeling that you wouldn’t have stopped it. On the contrary, you probably would have enjoyed it and what type of person does that make you? Nothing had happened but this enough made you feel guilty. Maybe it was for the best that you didn’t have many close friends, so far you were awful at being one. 

“You know he likes you, right?” Tashi says with a giggle and draws you out of your thoughts. “Huh?” is all you manage to say back, your mind still not fully present. “Art.” she says with another laugh. 

You’re reminded of the conversation you overheard between Art and Patrick behind the bar. It feels more like an alcohol induced hallucination than an actual memory. Even though you heard Art say it, you couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that he liked you. You were hundred percent convinced he still liked Tashi. Always ready to spend time with her and looking at her like she hung the moon in the sky. It was obvious he still liked her. There was the possibility he liked you both, but that felt improbable. Why would he like you both? At the end of the day, it didn’t even matter. You weren’t going to do anything about it. 

“Tashi he’s a friend,” you say with a little laugh, hoping that your answer is enough to drop the subject. It isn’t as she just lets out another laugh and goes “What? I'm right.” You sigh and say, “Have you forgotten about what happened in the hotel room?” Tashi rolls her eyes, and makes a dismissive hand wave, “That was months ago.” She doesn’t make any claim to deny that he’s into her, so even she’s aware of it. You just force a laugh in response, which causes Tashi to laugh too. Her laugh elicits an actual laugh from you, and you both sit there like that laughing for a moment. By the time you’re both done, it seems like the topic of Art is no longer on her mind, and you’re beyond grateful for that. 

----

You thought that would be the end of that topic, but the next day, as you walk outside the locker room after practice you hear Art and Tashi talking about it. The hallway is curved, but you’re close enough to hear and see them without being overtly visible. You’re sure if they looked in your direction and took a step or two, they’d be able to see you, but neither do.  

“I think you should just tell her,” Tashi says, Art just sighs looking to the side. “You’re making this way more complicated than it has to be, and now everything is all awkward. She can barely look at you during practice,” she adds on. “It’s a stupid distraction for both of you, just get over it.”

Art looks at Tashi and goes, “It’s way more complicated than that.” Tashi looks at him with her eyebrows slightly furrowed and an expression that says she doesn’t believe him, Art just adds on, “You weren’t there at the academy. You wouldn’t get it.” 

You feel your heart drop at those words. You need to stop the conversation before it can go any further, so you don’t think twice about walking. You wave and Tashi sees you before she can respond.

“Let’s go eat?” you ask. 

Art nods and Tashi replies, “Sure.”

You smile in relief as you all walk to the dining hall in silence.

----

“You’re never going to talk about what happened at the academy are you?” Tashi says later that day as you both walk over to the cinema by campus. You decided to have a movie night, but as you look at her it’s clear that’s the last thing on her mind. You shrug as you continue to walk, “I told you already. It wasn’t fun.” Tashi nods and then says, “But something happened right?” You shrug in response and she looks in front again. For a brief moment you consider telling her everything. Why were you keeping it a secret in the first place? She gets a phone call. She pulls it out and you see it’s from Patrick. Oh right. That’s why. You look away and take a deep breath to maintain composure. 

Once you think your face has no emotion on it whatsoever, you look back and tell her, “You take it. I’ll go buy tickets.” She looks at you to check if you’re sure, and you nod. Tashi walks away and you force a little smile as she walks a few steps away to take the call. You stand by the ticket booth outside and get two tickets for the movie Tashi mentioned. You turn and look over to where she is talking on the phone to Patrick and it’s clear she has an unhappy expression on her face. Boredom? Annoyance? Something like a mix of the two. She huffs and you see her walking back towards you.

You offer a small smile and once she’s close enough you ask, “Everything alright?” She lets out a dry laugh and takes a ticket from your hand, She walks in and you follow alongside her, as she says “Patrick called to complain…again.” You feel your stomach do a flip and it’s clear that she has more to say. It’s utterly pathetic how curious you feel. You remain silent as she continues. “He lost another match today.” She scoffs and shakes her head. “I don’t even know why he calls to tell me this shit, anytime I try to offer him something constructive he starts acting like I’m being a bitch.” Her voice shows she is annoyed, you nod in response. “It’s like he doesn’t even care,” she says and you’re unsure if she’s talking about Patrick’s attitude towards tennis or her.

“Sorry,” you say softly to make her feel better. She just sighs, shaking her head, “Don’t apologize” She then smiles looking at you, “Anyway, you actually take my advice.” True. Tashi always had pointers. Small things she’d notice you thought you could improve. You knew you weren’t a perfect player, but compared to the insults you got from your classmates during your time at the academy, her comments were actual feedback. And ones that paid off. Even your coaches know you’ve been playing better. You’re not surprised Patrick wasn’t listening. Never the one to see his own faults. You could understand why Tashi was annoyed. 

You smile back in response to her with a little shrug. “Too bad you’re going to be a star player. You would have made one hell of a coach,” you joke to lighten the mood and change the subject. Tashi laughs too and then sighs, “Anyway he just called for that and to say he’s coming in two week for a visit,” she says as you both walk into where the movie is playing. You’re grateful the darkness of the room makes it near impossible for her to see your face because you can feel your face drop at her words. 

----

You’re a tennis player, you’re allowed to look at ATP rankings, you remind yourself as you sit in front of the computer in the library. After the night at the movies a couple days ago, your thoughts about Patrick became debilitating. Just thinking about the fact that he’d be back on campus so soon made you feel dizzy to think about. 

You originally came to the library to use the computer to search up some facts about an author. It was research for an essay you have to write for your literature of the twentieth century class. Even as you tried to focus on the information in front of you, your mind went back to Patrick. So here you were, scrolling down the list of players on the ATP rankings website to find his name. Your eyes dart around you a little bit, as if to check no one can see. What is wrong with you? You were acting like a child. It takes you sometime, but you finally find Patrick’s stats. He’s low in the rankings, which was somewhat expected considering he just started going on tour, but like Tashi said he was losing games. 

“Hey,” you hear from behind you. You nearly jump as you close the ATP tab and turn around to see Art standing behind you. Why were you even surprised at this point? “Sorry didn’t mean to startle you,” he says with a small, yet forced smile, as his eyes dart from in between the screen to you. Did he see the ATP tab you just closed out? You force a little laugh, “I should buy you a bell for your birthday.” It’s a joke and he lets out a little laugh, as he pulls out the seat next to you and sits down. 

“So…” you start. He must have finally realized that the only way to talk to you alone, was by sneaking up on you. And well now you were effectively trapped, so you had to hear whatever he desperately wanted to say. You had a feeling it had to do about his supposed feelings for you, but you just wanted to get this over with. Patrick’s words repeat in your head and you do your best to keep a straight face. 

Art looks at you and shrugs, “I wanted to talk about…” You just blink as he is unable to finish his sentence. He sighs and then says, “I know why it’s awkward between us.” You brace yourself with a little nod. “It’s because of the bullying.” 

You look at him blank for a moment. His answer confuses you, mostly because he never actually did anything to you. He was a bystander at best. Before you can respond he continues. “It’s been weird ever since Patrick came, and honestly it makes sense,” he pauses. “I guess it must have brought up some bad memories.” Well it did bring up memories. Some bad (him destroying your possessions, the names he teased you with) and some good (him eating you out, riding him in the back of his car). All intense. You just nod in response, curious to where this is going. “I know…I should have done more back.” 

“You didn’t–” you start but are cut off before you finish. “No, don't try to brush it off,” he says. “Patrick is my best friend, but he was an asshole to you. I’m sorry I never said anything to stop it.” You look at him for a little moment. An apology was the last thing you expected right now. You don’t even know how to respond. Luckily you don’t have to, you see his lips part slightly and you realize he isn’t done. In a small, vulnerable voice he adds, “If I could back and change things. I would.” He pauses and then adds,”It just…can be hard to say no to him.” Now that you understood, more than you could ever let Art know. “Yeah…Yeah I get that.” you whisper with a little nod. You both sit in the silence for a library for a moment, a sense of mutual understanding forming between both of you.  

He’s the first to break the silence by saying your name in the same quiet voice “Honestly, I really like you.” The conversation has headed in the direction you originally expected, except after everything he said before you feel too tired to discuss this now. You don’t want to talk about this now. “Art…” you start, with your voice trailing off. “I like you,” he says again, “I just never acted on it because of well…you know.” You just stare at him, looking to the side and then back at him. “But Tashi?” you ask in a small voice. It’s not like you really care about his feelings for Tashi. That’s the most logical part of all of this, but you feel the need to ask anyway. Pure curiosity more than anything else. “I liked Tashi,” he says slowly, but his voice falters slightly when he says liked. As if he couldn’t decide between using the present or the past tense. He continues, “but I like you. I have since junior year.” You hate how your mind instantly goes to Patrick, but how could it not? That was when your relationship with him started. Art has liked you since then too? 

“I was thinking I could take you out?” he asks. No No No NO, a voice in your brain says. You shift in your seat, and it’s clear that Art has picked up on some discomfort. “Like dinner or a movie,” he adds. You look at him. You remember what Patrick said and take a deep breath as you try to think of the nicest way to let him down. Art’s jaw ticks at this and he then sighs. “If you don’t want to go out with me because you don’t like me, that’s fine. But please don’t say no because of the past,” he then says looking at you. Before you can respond, he stands up and with a shrug says, “Just think about it.” He walks away, and you turn back to the computer screen open to an article on the works of Laurence Durrell. You exit out of it as you gather your things. This paper was now the least of your worries. 

----

Since you got back to your dorm from the library, you’ve been laying down on your bed staring at the ceiling. Patrick’s voice remains in your head, but so does Art’s. Don’t say no because of the past. Isn’t that what you were doing? The entirety of your time at the academy was dictated by Patrick in one way or another. Maybe it was just a habit at this point to let him do so, but Patrick wasn’t here and the academy was the past. You had no reason to do what he said. Regardles, for some reason going out with Art still felt like a betrayal. Naturally, going against what Patrick said to do would be a betrayal to him, but this felt like a betrayal to yourself. It was a new feeling. Never once did you feel it with Patrick, but shouldn't sleeping with your bully feellike a bigger betrayal to yourself than going on a date with a bystander to it? 

You reach for the phone on your side table. You slowly type out the message on your small flip phone, and then click send. 

You: So when do you want to go out? (sent 9:10 PM, 10/05/06)

He responds after a minute. 

Art: How does tomorrow night sound? (sent 9:11 PM, 10/05/06)

----

“I don’t understand what you have against the sequels,” Art says with a laugh as you walk down the dorm hallway. You both had decided to get dinner together. It was easy to talk to him and it felt like you were transported back to those first couple weeks at Stanford before Patrick’s visit when there was no awkwardness between you two. You were anxious about the date. With Patrick, everytime you met up it was about hooking up, nothing more, so this was your first ever actual date. Now that it’s done, and you both walk back to your dorm rooms, you can’t ever remember why you felt like it wouldn’t go well. Art is sweet. Art likes you. It all went fine. 

“I have nothing against them,” you respond, “I just prefer the original Star Wars movies.” You say as you reach the door to his dorm room. Art stands beside you as he shrugs. “Okay fair,” he says with a smile. He swallows and then looks at his dorm and then yours. Your dorm is in a different building, but you wanted to walk with Art to his anyway because it was first on the route back. “Do you want to come inside?” he asks, looking intently. You look at him without saying anything for a moment, as you register the look. His expression asks: Do you want to have sex? 

You couldn’t deny that Art was handsome. With his smile and golden curls, he looked like what you’d imagine if Prince Charming walked out of a fairy tale and decided he wanted to play tennis. The betrayed feeling from earlier gnaws at you, but you decide to nod with a small smile anyway. The last time you had sex was with Patrick the day before you graduated from the academy in the back of his car. That was months ago. You needed a release. 

Art smiles as he reaches for the key to open the door to his room. He unlocks it and opens the door for you. You walk in and take a look around the dorm room you’ve already been in plenty of times. When you hear the door close around, you turn around to face Art, whose lips automatically come down on yours. His tongue snakes his way into your mouth, but the kiss is still gentle. Much more gentle than anything with Patrick. You move your hands to his shoulders to push Patrick out of your brain and focus on Art in the present. You feel his hands reach down to the buttons of your blouse as you continue to kiss, removing one by one, and then pushing it off to the floor. He pulls away and takes a look at you in the lace bra, with a smile and a lustful gaze. You smile back, as he pulls off his shirt and reaches down to unzip his jeans. You follow his lead and unzip yours as well, before slowly kicking them off. Then your hands move to unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor. 

He smiles at the sight and leans in to kiss you again. While still kissing, you both stumble backwards over to the bed, you falling down on it and he on top of you. He pulls away from your lips to trail kisses down your neck to your breast. His tongue circled one of your nipples, and you gasped at the wet and pleasant sensation. You felt your hands move to his hair as he continued doing so, gently tugging on it as you rocked your core against his groin. Only the thin cloth of your panties and his boxers remained as a barrier between the both of you. He groaned at the sensation. You felt the vibration of it briefly on your breast, but he soon pulled away and started trailing down even lower. 

He kissed down your body murmuring how pretty you were, until he was stationed between your legs. He looked up at you, and you looked down at him with half lidded eyes. He sat on his knees then as he reached to pull down your panties. He tosses them to the side of the bed, and once again he gets back in between your legs. You feel him plant kisses against your core. You whine at the sensation, enough touch to tease, but not to really please you. Hearing your want, Art’s tongue darts out in between your folds, which quickly turn your whines into moans. You felt his tongue encircle your clit, and a finger tease your cunt. While he started out slow, his pace picked up. Always maintaining a steady rhythm. Each movement of his tongue felt controlled and deliberate, a stark contrast to the messy way Patrick would eat you out. The minute the thought comes into your head. You force your eyes open to look down at Art, to ground yourself in the moment. You see his gaze is already on you, and as you make eye contact, he slowly starts to speed up. He pushes another finger inside you and you gasp. HIs free hand is splayed on your thigh, holding it down. All together, these draw out your orgasm.  

As you feel the vibrations through your body, he slowly pulls himself up and plants another kiss against your lips. You can taste yourself on him as he kisses you gently again. “I want you,” he murmurs against your lips, “so badly right now.” You smile at him and whisper back, “okay.” He smiles at your words and sits up as he reaches to the corner table, “I should have a condom in here.” You nod as he pulls open the drawer and finds one. He puts it to the side as he pulls down his boxers and you take a moment just to look at him naked. He rips open the condom packet and you watch him pull it over his cock. It’s the same shade as the rest of his skin, with his tip a subtle pink shade, a little bit longer but not as thick as…You turn your head to the side to prevent yourself from finishing the comparison. Focus on Art, you tell yourself.

The minute it’s on he climbs over you again, and you lay back down. He aligns himself with you, and slowly pushes himself in. He goes inch by inch, and you can feel himself throb even through the condom barrier. Once he is bottomed out, he puts his hands on the side of your head, and he starts to thrust. Just like when he ate you out, he moves at a steady pace, slow at first but slowly picking up speed. You feel the comparison forming in your head, and you bite down on your lip to prevent yourself from making it. You bite down so hard that you taste blood. Art takes this as a sign you want to be kissed, and you feel his lips come down on you again. Although his movements remain gentle, he’s big enough that you still feel it completely. You kiss as he continues to thrust. “God..” he grunts head going up, “You’re so fucking tight.” He says as he continues to thrust, speed picking up again once more. You moan at the feeling. “G..Gonna turn you around,” he says, and you nod as he feels your hand move you from laying down on your back to laying down your stomach. He feels even deeper now, and you feel yourself get closer. 

That’s when you see it. Your eyes are half lidded, but open enough to see the picture of Art and Patrick on the bedside table. You squint at it to get a better look, as Art continues to thrust into you with heavy pants. You feel your breathing get shallower as your eyes focus in on the picture. It looks like it’s from after they won the doubles championship at the junior open. Your eyes lock in on Patrick smiling for the snap, and that’s what pushes yourself over the edge. You feel yourself clench and then your orgasm hits you. You close your eyes as you feel it wash over you. Art pushes into you a couple more times and then lets out a grunts as he cums as well. You feel him pull out and fall beside where you lie on the bed. When your eyes finally open again you look again at the picture of both boys and sigh.  

----

You probably should have stopped sleeping with Art after that first time, but the sex provided an outlet for all your anxious energy, and that just made your life easier. You met up in the evenings after practice and pretty much always in his dorm (for reasons you do not want to acknowledge). He took you out a couple times too, but there was no label for the relationship. The only person who knew about what was going on between the two of you was Tashi, who you told after the first time it happened.

“You two should just start going out with each other,” she told you one day as you grabbed lunch. “You guys go on dates and sleep together anyway.” You shrugged her off. He tried to bring it up once in bed too, but you ended the conversation by going down on him. You liked this weird gray area both of you were in. It felt comfortable. It felt safe. 

----

You sit on the bleachers picking at the skin by your cuticles. With all the time you were spending with Art, the two weeks snuck up on you. Patrick was back. Tashi went into the locker room to change, so it’s just you watching Art and Patrick casually playing a match on the court in front of you. He was supposed to arrive in the evening, not in the afternoon. You had been dreading his visit since the moment you found out, so you planned in advance. After practice, you were going to tell Art and Tashi you had another paper for your literary seminar, and lock yourself in your dorm for the rest of the weekend before Patrick even showed up. Of course this plan was ruined when Patrick showed up in the afternoon, right in the middle of the practice. Now here you are, counting the moments till you could leave while Patrick and Art played. 

You feel your fingers sting where you picked at the skin, as you hear Patrick call your name. “C’mon one game? For old times sake.” His tone was mocking, as if he was trying to provoke you. You looked up at him as he walked towards where you sat on the bench, but said nothing. His eyes dart down to the picked skin on your finger. He grimaces at the sight, but says nothing. Quickly bringing a smirk back onto his face as he looked at you. “What? I’ve been told you’re good,” Patrick asks in the same mocking tone. Your ranking among college girls tennis players had gone up, which you knew was more than he could say about his ATP ranking. You just shrug in response. “So what, you're not going to play me?” he then asks. 

“Seriously? Practice just ended. Let us have a break,” Art says in a not so subtle attempt to get Patrick to stop. He then offers you a smile.You’re not sure if it's a “Please forgive my asshole friend” smile or a “I’m glad I could stand up for you smile,” but either way you return it with a small smile of your own. Patrick notices, his eyes narrowing slightly and then returning to normal, before telling Art, “You just played with me.” He turns back to you and goes, “C’mon” 

He has a shit eating grin on his face and you want to smack it off him, but as you feel all three of them look at you, you realize you’ve been silent this whole time. You  just shrug, standing up with your racket. “Sure,” you say as you walk over to the court. His grin grows wider. It makes you wonder if this is a mistake. 

You serve the ball, and he hits it. You run and hit it back. He does as well. The ball goes back and forth between the both of you, neither of you missing it. You’re not sure how long it goes on for, but it’s definitely sometime before it stops. You hit it to the corner of the court and before he can run to it, it bounces out. He lets out a sharp exhale as he watches it go. 

“I’m gonna serve now,” he says to you, as he takes a ball. He looks at you as he gets ready to do his signature, unique serve, and just smirks. The minute you see it, you once again feel like this is a mistake. The feeling only intensifies when he serves and you miss the ball. He grabs another tennis ball and does it again. You miss. Your eyes dart to where Art watches by the bench and then at Patrick. Feeling more warm all of a sudden. Once more he serves. Again, Miss. You’re not sure how long this goes on for, but when he goes, “Sure you’re a tennis player?” you want nothing more than to get out of there. You walk straight to the bench and pick up your bag. Art looks at you, lips slightly parted as if he wants to say something, but you speak first. “I have a paper I need to finish.” It’s all you say before walking away from the court back in the direction of your dorm room. 

You can hear the sound of Patrick laughing behind you, and you bite down on your jaw to prevent yourself from crying as you walk away. 

----

You lay down in bed, your eyes still red and puffy. You broke down on the way back, but thankfully far enough from the courts that neither Art or Patrick could see. The crying didn’t stop when you got back to your dorm. Or after your shower. While it wasn’t pouring out of you anymore, tears would come back at random intervals.

While you weren’t actively crying at the moment, it felt like anything could bring the tears back. Your mind drifts back to his afternoon. Of course Patric chose to humiliate you, what else would he have done? You’re shaken out of your thoughts from someone banging on your door. Loud, forceful, and impatient bangs. You slowly sat up in bed, and looked over to it. Another thud. It was too forceful to be either Tashi or Art. Really, there was only one person who’d be this forceful. He was the last person you wanted to see, so you just stared at it. How did Patrick even find your dorm? Maybe if you waited long enough, he’d just leave. You sat for another minute, but the bangs just got louder. He wasn’t leaving and you realized if he kept banging you’re the one who was going to get a noise complaint. You sniffle one more time and wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, as you walk over to the door. More thuds. You sigh and take one deep exhale, as you open the door.

Patrick is standing there with a scowl and furrowed brows. The minute he realizes the door opened, he pushes himself in and lets the door close behind him. “You’re fucking Art?” His voice is angry and although it comes out like a question, it’s clear he knows the answer. You realize Art must have told him about the two of you. You just stare up in silence, and this causes Patrick to scoff. “What part about our conversation last time made you think it was okay to suck his dick?” His voice is sarcastic and angry, as he takes another step towards you. He smells of a combination of sweat, cologne, and cigarettes. “Answer the question.” 

“Get out of my room.” you say in a small voice. Patrick lets out a humorless laugh. “Answer the question,” he repeats. You look at him and feel tears well up again in your eyes. Wasn’t it enough that he humiliated you earlier today? Couldn’t he just leave you alone now? “Why do you care,” you retort with a sniffle. Once again he laughs. “Why do I care? Oh I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that I turn my back for two minutes and you’re on my best friend’s dick,” he says it a bit louder and he’s so close that his nose bumps yours when he says it.

Your eyebrows furrow. His tone was angry and sarcastic, but above all it made it seem like you were doing something wrong. Something inside of you snaps at this. Your tone is a bit louder and more upset when you say, “So what?” Patrick laughs looking to the side, but you don’t give him the chance to speak. “I’m sorry that your best friend is into me” your voice taking a sarcastic tone. “But that’s not my fault. And I don’t know why you’re so upset about it, but grow the up and leave me the fuck alone.” He huffs and bites, “You know why I’m upset.” You bring your face closer to his, “Really? From where I’m standing, you’re just being an ass.” The tears which formed in your eyes roll down your cheek, and in an angry voice begins,“I told you to–” 

“You do not get to tell me what to do!” you exclaim before he can even finish that statement. You swallow, as he just looks at you now slightly stunned at the outburst. “You do not get to tell me what to do,” you repeat in a still angry yet less loud tone. Both of you just stand there, and unsure what else to do, you decide to push him. Your hands go to his chest and then push him back. It’s a childish gesture, and you’re not exactly sure why you did it. Even he looks stunned at the sudden action. Once again you push him. And again. You do it until his back is up against the door of your dorm. You’re breathing much more heavily now and both of you are just staring at each other. Your hands raise up and you keep hitting him on the chest. For a brief moment it feels like you’re transported back to junior year in the locker room before winter break as you just punch his chest. That feeling only grows when you suddenly feel his lips against yours. 

It's desperate and messy, but undoubtedly mutual. His tongue licks into your mouth as your hands go to the back of his neck. His hands grab your hips and spin you around, so now your back is against the door. You already know he’s hard, but you fully feel it as he grinds his erection against your core and you moan into his mouth in response. “Fuck” he mutters as his lips move from yours to your neck. You feel his teeth scratch against the skin there, but not enough to leave a mark. Whenever you slept together, he never left marks anywhere visible. His hands move to the underside of your thighs and he pins you up against the door. Your legs instinctively wrap against his waist, and once again he grinds against you, eliciting another moan from both of you. You feel his tongue lick up your cheek, and it takes you a second to realize he is licking up your tears. One of his hands moves up to paw at your tits over the tank you have on and you moan at the sensation. You feel your hands go down to his jeans zipper, and he lets out a chuckle at this, then his lips come crashing down against yours again. 

Too lost in the kiss, it takes you a moment to realize he is moving you somewhere, but you soon realize he is carrying you away from the door. Soon you’re thrown onto the bed. His hands go to the zipper you somewhat removed, and he kicks off his jeans. He then goes to take his shirt. You take this as a sign to get naked as well. You kick off your shorts and pull off your tank. Without a bra on and already aroused, your nipples pebble instantly once exposed. Patrick licks his bottom lip and removes his boxers, the last bit of clothing he has on. You take in the sight you didn’t think you’d ever see again, as he crawls on top of you and presses another desperate kiss. His lips part from yours as he whispers, “No one else will make you feel like this.” Before you can respond, you gasp as you feel his hand knead your breast again. Now fully exposed you feel him pinch your nipple. He moves down with his tongue licking over the little bud he just pinched, replacing the jolt of pleasurable pain with just pure pleasure. 

He gets back on his knees and grips the base of his cock, aligning himself with you. He pushes just the tip in. Close but not enough. You whine at the sensation. “What?” he asks with a smirll. He moves slightly as if he is going to fully pull out. “Please” you whine.  “Please what?” He says, “You gotta use your words.” You whine again and he laughs, and you manage to say “fuck me..please.” He smiles again but doesn’t move. “Who’s the only person that can make you feel this way?” he asks. You look at him and breathlessly say, “you.” He smiles before pushing in fully, muttering, “Fuck I’ve missed this.”  

----

From the time you met Patrick, you were sure he was going to hell when he died. Now you were fairly certain you’d also be down there with him. After you both fucked, Patrick left your dorm saying nothing. He put on his clothes and gave you one last look. You both locked eyes and for a moment, you were sure he was going to say something to you, but instead he just let out a deep exhale and walked out. You assumed he wanted to leave as quickly as possible. You felt a knot of guilt in your stomach, so was relieved he left in silence. Sometime after that, you fell asleep in the soiled sheets surrounded by his scent and his cum dripping out of you.

When you woke up the next morning, you sent a message to both Tashi and Art saying you were sick and needed to rest. Along with the fact Patrick was on campus, you knew this lie would guarantee that you’d be left alone for the rest of the weekend. Which was all you wanted. The knot in your stomach grew when you thought about either of them. You tried to occupy yourself in your room by showering, doing work, and reading, but your mind kept drifting back to Patrick. Even once you changed the bedsheets, you felt as if his scent lingered in your dorm. By Saturday night, you felt incapable of thinking about anything besides him and what had happened the night before. 

As you laid in bed, you reached over to your phone to check the messages you had been ignoring all day. You had one from your mom just checking up on you, which you quickly responded by saying fine, and messages from Tashi and Art asking how you’re feeling. Both of which you ignored. Then you saw the message from Patrick. 

Patrick: You’re still on birth control right? (sent 3:02 PM, 10/16/06)

It was sent a couple hours ago. You assumed some delayed sense of post-nut clarity must have reminded him that you both fucked raw last night. 

You: Yes. (sent 8:58 PM, 10/16/06)

Patrick: Okay good. (sent 8:58 PM, 10/16/06)

After a minute or so, you got another message from Patrick. 

Patrick: Art said you were feeling sick. (sent 8:59 PM, 10/16/06)

You should have ignored the message, but you found yourself responding before you could stop yourself. 

You: Yes? (sent 9:00 PM, 10/16/06)

Patrick: Like for real? Or because… (sent 9:00 PM, 10/16/06)

Your eyes rolled at the screen. 

You: What do you think? (sent 9:01 PM, 10/16/06)

Patrick: ;) (sent 9:01 PM, 10/16/06)

You read his response and sigh. You put your phone back down on the bed stand table and force yourself to sleep. 

----

Although you originally planned to just hideaway for the weekend, you still felt miserable by the time Monday rolled around. You decided to play into the whole sickness thing, and isolate yourself for the next couple days. But by the time Thursday rolled around, you realized you had to get back to your life. You forced yourself to go to practice.

It had been a couple days since Patrick left the campus, but you still felt as if he could jump up from any corner. By the time you got to the courts, you saw Tashi was already playing and Art was watching her with an adoring smile. 

You walked over slowly to where he was standing, and he noticed your presence once you were standing next to him. “Hey, Feeling better?” he asks, looking at you. You drop the bag full of your tennis equipment to your feet, and look up at him. The knot in your stomachreturns in full force and you just shrug in response. He nods in response, and you both turn back to look over at Tashi who is playing. 

____

“I was thinking that if we win the championships this spring, it would be the perfect time to go pro,” Tashi says as she looks across the dining hall table where you both eat. After the events of Patrick’s last visit, there was a noticeable change in the air. While you knew this was because you fucked her boyfriend, she didn’t. You found reasons to hang out with her less because of it. Always making up some essay that needed to be finished. You felt grateful that when you did spend time with Tashi, she chose to talk about tennis. Although, you couldn’t deny the increased focus on your possible future in professional tennis was draining in its own way. “What do you think?” she asks. 

You shrug in response. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” you respond. Tashi lets out a little laugh, raising an eyebrow, “You’re ready.” You shrug as you pick up a piece of fruit with your fork. “No really. You’re ready,” she repeats as if trying to drive the point. “You’re already in the top ten in college rankings, and if you win a couple more games, you would break into the top 5.” 

You nod slowly in response as you munch on the fruit. “Yeah…but there’s more to it,” you say with a shrug. Tashi’s eyebrows raise in confusion. “I don’t have the money for that type of life,” you say. You’re not wrong, it’s not like you’d be able to afford to be on the road or pay a coach to help you train. Tashi shrugs, “You should get a sponsorship.” Her tone is casual, as if it’s the easiest thing there is. You’re not necessarily surprised by how nonchalant she is. She has an Adidas sponsorship already and considering how brilliant of a player she is, it probably was not her only offer. You just let out a laugh in response. “What?” Tashi starts again, “You’re a good player. You're cute. And you have a motivating story. You could easily get a sponsorship.” 

You let out another small laugh, shaking your head and saying, “I think you think my story is way more motivating than it actually is.” Now Tashi laughs, “Everyone loves an underdog, and with everything that happened to you at the academy–”

You cut her off, “What?” Something about her words make you uneasy. She knows, you think. Tashi looks at you as if she’s been caught, “Well Art…said some people were really awful to you at the academy.” 

Art? Art was telling her these things. He said some people? So he didn’t mention Patrick? What else did he mention? Before you can properly start to spiral about those thoughts, you sense someone behind you. Of course, it’s Art. He sits down in the seat next to you, puts his plate on the table. “What are you guys talking about?” he asks as his hand rests on your thigh. Ever since you started sleeping together, he’s been more open with touching you. Both in private and public. You feel slightly queasy when he does, but say nothing. 

 “Going pro,” you respond quickly to move the subject of the conversation back to the original focus. You hear Art make a hum sound in response and both he and Tashi slip into a conversation about professional tennis.

You take a sip of your gatorade, as you just watch the two of them, not at all paying attention to the conversation. Art was talking about your time at the academy with Tashi, but why? Did she bring it up? Or did he? What reason could he have to talk about it with her? You’re lost in thought when you see Art turn and give you a small smile. You give him one back. 

-----

Patrick: I can’t believe you’re still sleeping with Art. (sent 4:08 PM, 10/28/06)

You’re sitting at your desk in your dorm, going over some of your annotations on a short story for class, when you get the message. It’s your first message from him in a couple of weeks. After the text conversation you had the Saturday he was last on campus, he sent nothing else. You reasoned that whatever happened during the visit wouldn’t happen again, and used that to ease the knot of guilt you felt whenever you thought about what happened. You won’t let it happen again. It’s almost ironic that just as you feel yourself moving past it again, he texts you.   

You: I don’t know what you’re talking about. (sent 4:10 PM, 10/28/06)

You are aware that you should have ended things with Art a long time ago. After Patrick’s visit, you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep with Art. But you also couldn’t bring yourself to put a definite end to things with him. So while you hadn’t slept with him in sometime, you were still with Art. Your relationship remained in that little gray area you both created, just now without the sex. 

Patrick: Yeah sure. (sent 4:11 PM, 10/28/06)

Patrick: Art told me. (sent 4:11 PM, 10/28/06)

Your mind drifts back to when Tashi said Art told her about your time at the academy. Looks like he was talking about you to Patrick too, albeit for completely different reasons. If Patrick thinks you’re still sleeping with Art, then what exactly did Art say? You did not have the time to focus on this. You sigh as you put your phone down. You need to focus on your work, you tell yourself. 

It’s only a couple minutes until you hear your phone ring, you pick it up to see it’s a call from Patrick. You let it ring for a minute before picking it up. 

“You never responded to my message,” he says immediately. “I’m busy,” you say looking back at the book. Why did you even take this call? “Doing what?” he asks. “So at university you’re given work to do,” you say sarcastically, which just causes him to laugh on the other end. “Yeah okay smartass. Is it like an essay? Homework?” 

You roll your eyes. “No just going over notes” He laughs in response and you expect him to make fun of you. “Going over notes is not work,” he says. “Yes they are,” you say with a groan and eye roll. “No, you just choose to do it. Even when you don’t have to,” he says and you can nearly hear the smirk in his voice. “I care about my grades.” As if to remind you he says. “You’re there on a tennis scholarship.” You roll your eyes again, “Well I want to do well.” He lets out a chuckle, “I know. You were like this back then too.” There is a slight pause between the both of you, as you remember the time at the academy. He then adds on, “You’ll do fine anyway.” 

You’re not exactly sure how to respond to that. Another moment of silence between both sides. You break it by asking, “Why’d you call?” 

“Well I wanted to have phone sex but all this talk about school has made me soft,” he says with a laugh. You wouldn’t put that motive below him, but you can tell from his tone that it’s a joke. After a moment he goes, “I mean, but if you’re up to it–” 

You cut him off. “Bye Patrick.” You roll your eyes and hang up. 

----

Patrick: I miss your tight fucking cunt so much. (sent 3:02 AM, 11/02/06)

Patrick: I’m throbbing just thinking of it. (sent 3:03 AM, 11/02/06)

After that phone call, Patrick began texting you more regularly. These types of messages were the least surprising. Late at night and overtly sexual. You were pretty sure he was drunk sending them too. This is what you expected from him. You always refrained from answering them. You could not control what Patrick said or did and you were beginning to highly doubt that he felt any guilt about any of this. But you did. And you could control your own actions. 

Although, you responded to his other messages. For every sexual conversation he tried having with you, he started three normal ones. He asked questions about your life and told you things about his. Even back when you were hooking up at the academy he never texted you this much, and especially not about these things. 

Patrick: You know I think I had a cousin who studied English too (sent 11:22 AM, 11/07/06)

You: Really? (sent 11:22 AM, 11/07/06)

Patrick: Yeah. I think she is a professor now (sent 11:23 AM, 11/07/06)

Patrick: You’re seriously thinking about majoring in English? (sent 11:24 AM, 11/07/06)

You: Yeah. What about it? (sent 11:25 AM, 11/07/06)

Patrick: Why tho? (sent 11:25 AM, 11/07/06)

You: It’s fun. I like to read. (sent 11:26 AM, 11/07/06)

Patrick: Nerd (sent 11:26 AM, 11/07/06)

While many of the messages have a teasing edge to it, it never felt humiliating. It was like he wanted to make you laugh (and he did). The constant back and forth made it feel like new territory, but it would be a lie to say you didn’t like it. It was undoubtedly fun to talk to him like this. Every once in a while, he would also bring up Art in these conversations. Although his earlier anger at the relationship, now has seemed to fade into curiosity. 

Patrick: I just don’t understand you’re relationship with him. (sent 1:33 PM, 11/11/06)

You: your* (sent 1:33 PM, 11/11/06)

Patrick: What? (sent 1:33 PM, 11/11/06)

You: Patrick it's your not you're (sent 1:34 PM, 11/11/06)

Patrick: Whatever (sent 1:34 PM, 11/11/06)

Patrick: What do you two even do together? (sent 1:35 PM, 11/11/06)

You: Why do you care? (sent 1:35 PM, 11/11/06)

You couldn’t bring yourself to ask about him and Tashi. You had a feeling that he was glad about this. Regardless of what happened, she was still his girlfriend and your friend. Even if she came up in conversation, neither of you mentioned her by name.

Patrick: She said she’s thinking about going pro if you guys win the championship. (sent 10:48 PM, 11/18/06)

You: Yeah she told me too. (sent 10:48 PM, 11/18/06)

Patrick: How about you? (sent 10:49 PM, 11/18/06)

You: I don’t know if I want to. (sent 10:50 PM, 11/18/06)

You stared at the message before clicking send. It was your first time directly admitting the fact that you didn’t know what part tennis would play in the future.

Patrick: Seriously? (sent 10:51 PM, 11/18/06)

You: Honestly, I don’t see the point. (sent 10:52 PM, 11/18/06)

Patrick: You’ve always been a great player. (sent 10:52 PM, 11/18/06)

You don’t know how to respond to that message. You just stare at it. He once broke your racket and left you a note to say that replacing it would be a waste of your parent’s money because of how bad you were. And now he is saying you’ve always been a great player? You see another message pop back up. 

Patrick: And I don’t think your English degree is going to be a great fall back. (sent 10:55 PM, 11/18/06)

That was easier to respond to. 

You: Fuck you. (sent 10:55 PM, 11/18/06)

----

“Everything okay?” Art asks as he stops walking and turns to look at you. You, Tashi, and Art were all walking together to the tennis courts. Both of them were a little ahead of you lost in conversation, while you trailed behind on your phone. Patrick had told you something about his last match. You drop your phone into your pocket and nod in response. Suddenly, it’s weight in your pocket felt like a rock dragging you down. 

By the time November rolled around, your workload increased and you were grateful for that. It meant more of a reason to stay in your dorm. You were only really seeing Art and Tashi at practice and games now. You now no longer asked to do homework with her and found excuses to avoid going out with him. Although, you doubt they were disappointed, considering the both of them started to spend more time together. 

“Yeah, yeah,” all good, as you take a couple steps to walk beside them. 

----

Patrick: I’m coming to visit Stanford this weekend. (sent 10:01 AM, 11/25/06)

----

Considering Patrick’s visit you thought you’d spend the entire weekend in your dorm again. While you were still texting him, you didn’t want a repeat of last time. It was okay to talk, but nothing else. The only way to avoid anything from happening was to stay in your dorm, but when Tashi saw your ranking in the college girls tennis circuit list move up to fourth, she insisted on going out. So here you were at a frat party. Thankfully, it was Saturday and Patrick would leave on Sunday. You were able to avoid him up until you all had to meet up to go to the party.  

While he seemed friendly over text, the first thing he said when he saw you was, “Looks like someone is taking the whole Cinderella thing too seriously.” Not his worst jab, but still said in a tone that felt humilating. Art had just shot him a look and Tashi rolled her eyes. You said nothing in response to him and remained silent on the rest of the walk to the frat house. Now here you were at the Frat party, in some corner of the house, trying to bide the time with some drink until you felt it was appropriate to run back to your dorm. 

“You look nice,” you hear a voice say next to you. You take a sip from your red solo cup and turn to see a random frat guy, leaning in to talk to you. You just smile in response, hoping the conversation will end. “I haven’t seen you around here before,” he continues. While you enjoyed drinking, you weren’t a fan of how claustrophobic frat parties felt. “Uh well,” you say with a little shrug. Although there was nothing remotely entertaining about it, he laughs and leans in and asks, “So...you here with someone?” 

Before you have the chance to respond, you hear, “With her friends. Who is looking for her right now” You turn to see Patrick standing behind you, looking at the frat guy. “C’mon,” he says as he grabs your hand and leads you somewhere away from the corner you were just in.

You follow him without saying anything else. It’s clear he isn’t taking you to Art or Tashi, as you wander down a dimly lit hallway. You look around to see if anyone can see you, but you’re both alone. This hall may be the only empty place in the entire frat house. He pushes open a door and pulls you in, he smirks at you, and you realize he’s taken you to some bathroom. You look at it, and place your drink down on the side of the counter. 

“You look really nice,” he says looking at you. A complete 180 from earlier, but what else is new? You look down at the dress, as if you’ve forgotten what you’re wearing. “I’ve never seen you wear that before.” His fingers move to play with the slight lace on the hem of the dress. He smells of cheap alcohol and kool-aid, but you can still faintly smell his cologne. 

“It’s new,” you say looking at him. He steps closer, his hands still on the lace, and you feel your heartbeat pick up, and thighs clench. You’re sure he notices. He doesn’t make a comment on it, as he nods. “The lace is nice.” He says looking back up at you. You lean your back against the sink counter, and you slowly feel his hands push the hem of your dress up. You should smack his hands away, but you don’t. 

He holds the dress up by your hips, as he looks down at the lace of your panties. “I like that lace too,” he says as he lets one finger touch it. His hands move underneath your thighs and lifts you onto the sink counter. He leans down to kiss you, but not for long as he slowly starts trailing kisses down your body. His hands move to your hips, where the dress is pooled up, to hold down the fabric and hold you. He kisses down on your abdomen, you arch into his touch. 

By the time his head is in between your legs, and he looks at the lace of your panties. “You always get wet quick,” he says with a smirk as he sees the little wet spot on them. You whimper, as you feel him lick you over your panties. He chuckles right into your core as you do. He gives you one more tortuous lick over your panties, before pulling them down and putting his tongue where you really want it. His hands are splayed on your thighs to keep you open. “God you taste amazing,” he mutters against your folds as his tongue continues to eat you out. It’s all messy as he spreads his saliva with your arousal and the sound of his tongue against your dripping cunt is obscene. His nose bumps into your clit, which elicits more moans from you. You’re barely on the counter, but his hands hold you in place. You feel his tongue slip down to your other hole, and you shiver, but he quickly moves back up to your cunt. You feel yourself rock against his face. “You’re so desperate,” he chuckles again, “Slut.” His tongue moves a little faster, and your orgasm follows through. 

Before you can let the intense pleasure sink in, he is pulling you off the sink counter, and is spinning you around. Your hands grip the sides of the counter, as his hands go to your waist, you feel him rock his erection against you as he groans. You can hear the sound of him unzipping his jeans and the shuffle of the denim as he pulls it down. “Look at you little tennis star,” he says as he pulls down his boxers. “Bent over a bathroom sink for me.” His words send a jolt of arousal down your body, you feel his erection press into your skin. “Fourth is impressive tho,” he whispers against your ear, “I should fuck you with my racket. Maybe your luck will rub off on it,” You feel his tongue dart out and lick the lobe, and you again feel yourself aroused at his words. He pushes your dress up a little bit, and you can feel him guide his cock to your cunt. “Look in the mirror,” he whispers to you. Your eyes look at the reflection of both of you. He smirks from behind you, as he pushes into you. You both moan simultaneously. You feel grateful no one is around, because you’re sure you both could be heard through the door. You feel your eyes go half lidded as he continues to pound into you. “No,” he says with a grunt. One of his hands moves to your neck while the other remains on your lap. His hand presses down into your neck to hold in place. “Watch,” he commands, and your eyes return to the reflection of you both in the mirror. You can see he is watching too, as he continues to hold down on your neck. “I’m..” you feel yourself start to say, but his hand on your throat makes it too hard to speak. “I know..” he grunts, as he continues, “Me too.” He goes a little faster, and with one long grunt, you feel him spill into you. He is panting now, but he continues to thrust until you clench around him and come. You feel slightly light headed as it rips through you, and grip onto the side of the counter as you close your eyes to. His hand moves from your neck and you feel his head rest on the counter on top of yours. His finger softly rubs where you last picked the skin from it. 

After a moment of just standing like that, he slowly moves to kneel beside you. You think he is about to do something else, but you feel him pull up your panties as he stands up. He pulls your dress down, and takes a deep breath before going to pull up his own boxers and pants. Feeling much more grounded, you open your eyes and see him looking at you in the mirror, biting the inside of his cheek. “You okay?” he asks. You nod in response, unsure why he is asking. You can see he has a pensive expression on his face, as he bites down on the side of his lip. "I'm fine," you affirm, out loud this time. Then he slowly nods, as he presses a tender kiss against the back of your neck. “I’ll see you,” he says as he walks out. You slowly pull away from leaning on the counter, but say nothing as you just look at yourself in the mirror. 

When you finally decide to walk out, you walk straight back to your dorm. 

----

Patrick: How are your classes? (sent 11:01 PM, 12/01/06)

Patrick: I used the right your this time :D (sent 11:01 PM, 12/01/06)

----

Tashi: How is prepping going for finals? (sent 8:12 AM, 12/06/06)

You: Fine. Busy tho. (sent 2:03 PM, 12/06/06)

----

Patrick: Read anything good lately? (sent 2:38, 12/10/06)

Patrick: Or has finals taken up all your time? (sent 2:38 PM, 12/10/06)

----

Art: Can you come over? I want to talk. (sent 6:40 PM, 12/16/06)

You: Maybe later? I have an exam tomorrow morning.(sent 7:10 PM, 12/16/06)

Art: It’s important. I’ll be quick. (sent 7:10 PM, 12/16/06)

You: Oh okay. Give me ten min (sent 7:15 PM, 12/16/06)

----

“So…” Art starts, as you sit down next to him on the bed. You had spent the past couple weeks isolated in your dorm studying. And while finals season was keeping you busy, it was just an excuse to avoid Art and Tashi. After Patrick fucked you at the party, it was impossible to ignore the sense of guilt for your behavior. You didn’t deserve to have Art or Tashi in your life. You were awful. You wanted to avoid all three of them at all costs, and were grateful for the fact that finals gave you a reason to. 

Art sits down next to you and you both just look at each other for a moment. 

You knew this was about your relationship with him. Or well lack thereof. Without a label, without the sex, and now without seeing him, it wasn’t much of a relationship. You wanted him to be happy, but you couldn't deal with the guilt you felt by just being near him.

“I guess it’s over,” he says in a quiet voice. You nod in response. You have nothing to say as you reach over to give him a hug. Just as quickly as it started, you found it was over. 

----

Patrick: Art said he ended things with you. (sent 6:39 PM, 12/20/06)

----

Patrick: Are you ignoring me? (sent 12:47 AM, 12/21/06)

----

Patrick: ??? (sent 2:32 PM, 12/21/06)

----

Mom: Have you finished packing? (sent 10:02 PM, 12/23/06)

You: Almost (sent 10:03 PM, 12/23/06)

A lie. You were currently sitting on the floor of your dorm room, with two open, empty suitcases in front of you. You felt exhausted just thinking about packing, but it was only the twenty third and your flight was on Christmas morning. You figured you had plenty of time to pack. No need to stress your mom out about it.

As you stand up and walk over to your closet to grab some clothes to pack, you hear a knock on the door. It was quick and hurried. The semester technically ended yesterday and nearly everyone had already left. You look at the door, and when you hear another knock, you just assume it’s your RA telling you he was leaving for break.

When you open the door, you’re instead greeted with Patrick just standing there. “Patrick?” you asked surprised, “Wha–” 

He cuts you off, as he steps into the dorm, “You were ignoring me.” He says it as if that explains everything. “So you just decided to show up at my door,” you ask with a slight scoff. He shrugs. “I wanted to talk,” he says. You sigh, as you walk back to the closet, and open it. He seriously could not have been this dense to not realize why you were avoiding him. “If this is about what happened–” 

Now it’s your turn to cut him off. “Of course it is,” you snap back with a scoff. You move to kneel down by the suitcases as you put it in there. He exhales, running a hand through his hair and says, “Why are you acting like this?” You roll your eyes and sarcastically say, “I wonder why.” He sighs and just watches you pack. 

An awkward silence overtakes the room, and you take a deep exhale. “How did you even know I was still here anyway?” you ask to get rid of the quiet. “You always leave Christmas morning,” he says with a shrug. He sits down on the floor across from you, as he looks at your suitcases. Your brows furrow, “Shouldn’t you be home for the holidays too?” His eyes dart up to you, and he shrugs again, “Well I don’t celebrate Christmas.” It’s a skillful deflection of the question but you decide to press, “Well yeah I know that.” You remembered how everyone desperately wanted an invite to his Bar Mitzvah back at the academy (you of course were not invited). “But still,” you say as you wait for his response. 

He looks at you, and his face is much more serious now. “Uh..” he starts, “Well my parents are still pretty pissed I decided to not go to college.” Oh. You didn’t know that. He bites on the inside of his cheek, and you decide to change the subject. 

“Well you’re right, my flight is on Christmas morning,” you say as you stand up and walk back to the closet. He nods from where he is sitting on the floor. As you grab some clothes you add, “But I haven’t been able to pack because of finals.” 

“Need help?” he asks. You turn and look at him. His hands are stretched out towards you and you realize he’s asking to take the clothes. You slowly hand it to him, with a raised eyebrow, “You sure?” He just nods as he places the clothes into your suitcase. “You know these suitcases are pretty old, right?” he says to tease you. And you roll your eyes as you grab more clothes to hand him. 

An hour later, you both have finished packing. Taking his help was definitely the smart move, as you knew it would have taken at least another hour to finish up on your own. “Finally done,” you say as you lay down on the rug next to your bed. You feel exhausted and let out a yawn. Patrick is still moving some things around in the suitcase. “You’re pretty good at this, you know?” you say with another yawn, still laying down on the rug.

He lets out a laugh, “Well I have to do it on tour.” He continues to move things from one suitcase to another. He says something about distributing the weight, but you don’t catch it as you feel yourself drift off to sleep. 

----

When you wake up the next day, you find yourself in your bed. You sit up and look around. The clock on the wall says it’s noon, and your suitcases have been closed, put up right, and rolled to the corner of the dorm. You feel a pang of disappointment at the fact that you’re all alone, but push it down as you move to dangle your legs off the bed. You move to get up, but as you press your foot down you don’t find the fuzzy texture of your rug. You find Patrick. 

“Watch it,” he says groggily, as you look down on him. He rolls from his side to his back to look up at you. “You slept on the floor?” you ask him. “No, I’m laying down here for fun,” he says back sarcastically with a sleepy grin. You roll your eyes as you stand up, carefully avoiding him. “Thanks for moving me to the bed,” you say as you look at him. “Mhm,” he murmurs as he slowly sits up, “Don’t mention it.” 

You nod, and feel your stomach slightly rumble. “I’m gonna freshen up and go grab us something to eat from the vending machine,” you say with a nod. He raises an eyebrow, “The vending machine?” You shrug. The dining halls on campus would have already closed for break and you doubted there would be much open considering it was Christmas Eve. “Any Chinese places nearby?” he asks with a shrug. You know one and nod. “We’ll go there. I can drive,” he says. “Okay...” you say your voice trailing off as you walk to the bathroom. “Wait,” he says and you turn around and face him. “I’m kinda turned on by you stepping on me,” he says with a grin. You roll your eyes as you turn around and walk into the bathroom. 

----

An hour later, both of you were sitting across from each other at a table in a small Chinese restaurant waiting for your food. Somehow the conversation on the way turned to the fact that you didn’t have a license.

“So what, you take the bus everywhere?” he asks with a laugh. You nod and now he laughs “You can’t be serious.” You roll your eyes, but before you can let out some snarky retort, you feel a vibration in your pocket. You pull it out to see a message from your dad.

Dad: Make sure you set an alarm to wake up for your flight tomorrow. You probably want to leave the dorm by 6. (sent 1:23 PM, 12/24/06)

You: Got it :) (sent 1:23 PM, 12/24/06)

“Everything all good?” Patrick asks, as your attention drifts to your phone from the conversation you both were having. “Yeah, my dad just reminded me to set an alarm for tomorrow,” you say with a small nod. He nods in response as well. A moment of silence passes between the both of you. “They’ve always been like that. I remember,” he then says, eyes going to the side. “Been like what?” you ask, as you put your phone down in your lap. He shrugs. “You know,” he pauses to find the right word, “present.”

You look at him for a moment, unsure how to respond to it. You didn’t have to be a genius to see that Patrick wasn’t close to his parents, but his words said enough about how non-existent that relationship actually was. 

“I actually remember seeing them the first time I met you,” he suddenly says. “What?” you respond confused. The first time he met you was when he walked into class. You remember how he instantly sneered at you upon making eye contact. Your parents were nowhere in sight. “Okay well, first time I saw you,” he clarifies. Your brows furrow as he sighs. “They came to drop you off. They kept hugging you and saying how proud they were,” he says with a little hand motion and looks to the side as he does. 

You do remember that, but you didn’t know that Patrick saw that. Once again you’re unsure how to respond, but thankfully you don’t have to as the waiter walks over and places your dumplings and noodles on the table. “Thank god,” Patrick says as he grabs a pair of chopsticks. “I’m starving.”

----

You laugh in the car, as Patrick sings along off key to Mariah Carey on the radio. “You’re terrible,” you say with a laugh as you look over to him from your place in the passenger seat. He smirks, eyes still on the road. He then sarcastically says“What? I’m a great singer.” This causes you to laugh again, and he joins in. 

After that waiter placed your food, the conversation at the restaurant shifted back to more pleasant things. The food was great and now he was driving you both back to the dorm. 

“You know, you’re so much more fun when it’s just us,” he says once he is done laughing. “You’ve always been so quiet in public.” You can feel yourself involuntarily tense at his words. He wasn’t wrong. You were more reserved in public. A habit from your time at the academy. A habit from your time being bullied. Your quiet demeanor in public was his fault. And regardless of these moments between the two of you alone, nothing could change that. He must have had the same thought process, because he then goes, “Shit I didn’t–”

“It’s okay,” you quickly say to cut him off. “I know what you meant.” You turn up the volume on the radio to change the subject. He gets the hint, and neither of you say anything else on the way back. 

----

Both of you are sitting on the edge of your bed. Your eyes look around the room to check if there is anything you missed while packing. “I can drive you to the airport tomorrow” he suggests. “Honestly I don’t mind taking the bus,” you respond with a shrug as you turn back to him. His brows furrow and he sighs. “About earlier..” he says, his voice trailing off. You shake your head and say, “Just leave it Patrick.” He sighs more frustrated now, clearly unable to find the words he wants to say. He bites down on his bottom lip, and you register how close you’re both sitting. You decide you should move away, but he places his hand on your thigh to tell you to stay. 

His lips reach yours and he kisses you as if he hadn’t seen you in years. It's slower than usual. You feel his tongue explore every part of your mouth. As his hands pull off your sweater and push you back down onto the bed, everything feels a bit different. The way he kisses down your abdomen is still passionate, but not reckless. “You’re so beautiful,” you hear him mutter against your skin. There is no hurry in his actions, and his hands move across your body as if trying to memorize every detail. When his head finds his way in between your legs and pulls down your panties with your teeth, you can feel yourself shiver. He eats you out slowly, his tongue lapping through your folds and around your clit in a way that makes you shiver with each stroke. Your hands go to his hair, and you pull it gently. You can feel him moan against your core, and after a couple more moments of his tongue encircling your clit and protruding into your cunt, you come.

When he climbs back up over your body, he kisses you again. Soon you feel his cock push into you. His thrusts are long and slow. His forehead rests against yours, and you’re both holding eye contact. He tells you again you’re beautiful as he continues. You’re both panting and although it takes more time because of the pace, you both reach your orgasms. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and then rolls to lie down next to you.

Neither of you say anything, as you both just lay there looking up at the ceiling. This was new and neither of you know what to say about it. It’s dark outside now and then finally you hear Patrick whisper, “It’s been two years.” He doesn’t have to say what he’s talking about. Two years since the locker room in junior year. Two years since you guys began all of this. “Yeah…yeah it has,” you whisper back. Your head moves to the crook of his neck and his hand wraps around yours. The heat radiates off his body towards yours and you close your eyes. You’re unsure what time you fall asleep.

----

You’re grateful that you remembered to set the alarm as soon as you got back to the dorm yesterday. The clock goes off at six sharp and you wake up, quickly moving from Patrick’s hold on you to hit the off button. You look over beside you on the bed and see Patrick still asleep, although he must have sensed your movement because he shifts around. It’s the first time either of you have fallen asleep in the same bed. Your mind drifts back to the day before and to how you both ended up sleeping in the bed together. It feels as if some boundary has been crossed.

You slowly move to get dressed. You move on your tiptoes, as he moves again in his sleep. The last thing you want to do is wake him up. You want to leave. Go home. Forget any of this ever happened.

Once you’re ready to leave, you slowly push both suitcases on to the door, and look again at Patrick sleeping in your bed. You walk over to the desk and grab a sticky note and pen. You scribble down Lock up when you leave and place the spare key you’re suddenly beyond grateful you have right next to the note. You sigh as you take one last look at him, and then walk back over to the door to leave. 

----

He must have woken up shortly after you left, because you just get on the bus as you get a text from him. 

Patrick: Hope you have a good Christmas. (sent 6:23 AM, 12/25/06)

You: Thanks (sent 6:23 AM, 12/25/06)

----

You only heard from him once during break, on New Years. 

Patrick: Happy new years! (sent 12:00 AM 01/01/07)

You: Happy new years! (sent 12:01 AM 01/01/07)

You simultaneously loved and hated the silence. With no messages from him, it meant you didn’t have to confront what happened the night before you left. You could do your best to pretend nothing had happened. Although you found it impossible to do so. Your mind kept drifting back to that night, and thus equally hated how there was nothing you could do to find some concrete answers. You didn’t know what to expect from him after that. Or what it meant to him. You couldn’t even process what it meant to you. You’re left with an uneasy sense of deja vu, as you find yourself spending another winter break thinking only about you and Patrick.

----

If you were avoiding Art and Tashi before break, you had essentially ghosted them once you got back. As you returned to campus for the spring semester, you hoped Patrick would leave your mind. But without any answers to the questions you mulled throughout break, he remained at the forefront. This made it impossible to be around either of them. Not to mention, with your breakup – if you could even call it that – with Art, it was back to being awkward. 

You only saw them during tennis practice or games, always with an excuse handy to avoid spending any extra time together. Although, once again you sensed that they didn’t mind. During your first week back, after practice one day when you told Tashi you had to drop the film studies elective you both signed up for together, she just shrugged in response. “No worries,” she said casually. Art only made small talk with you before and after practice. If they missed your presence, they made no signs to show it.

In contrast, it started to seem as if Patrick was searching for it. Couple weeks after returning to school, he started texting you again. 

Patrick: You got back? (sent 5:43 PM, 01/29/07) You: Yeah. (sent 5:46 PM, 01/29/07)

Patrick: How is it? (sent 5:49 PM, 01/29/07)

You: Good. (sent 5:52 PM, 01/29/07)

He texted as if what happened before break was completely normal. The thought of addressing what happened made your stomach churn, but this was irritating. You were sure your annoyance was clear in your messages. 

You: Do you have my spare key? (sent 10:23 AM, 02/04/07)

Patrick: Shit. (sent 10:23 AM, 02/04/07)

Patrick: I think I lost it. (sent 10:23 AM, 02/04/07)

You: Good job. (sent 10:25 AM, 02/04/07)

Patrick: Sorry (sent 10:26 AM, 02/04/07)

And slowly, you couldn’t find it in you to respond at all. 

Patrick: I was on campus this weekend and didn’t see you once. (sent 2:32 AM, 02/04/07)

Patrick: Art said you guys don’t really talk anymore. (sent 2:32 AM, 02/04/07)

----

Patrick: I doubt the Stanford English department gives their students this much work. (sent 4:23 PM, 02/08/07)

----

Patrick: I can't believe you're ignoring me again. (sent 8:56 PM, 02/12/07)

----

Patrick: What did you tell her??? (sent 10:56 AM, 02/16/07) Patrick: ??? (sent 1:02 PM, 02/16/07)

----

The day you get the email from Adidas is just a random Thursday in Feburary. At first you thought it was spam, but then you saw the words sponsorship in the subject line. You open the email, and your eyes glaze over. It’s a casual email, saying that they’ve seen you play and that if you were interested they would set up something more formal to discuss with you. It feels surreal and you just stare at the screen, expecting it to disappear when you blink.

If you took it, wouldn’t you have to go pro? You were still unsure if you wanted that. Time gave you no clarity on the subject.

You reread the email from Adidas. Adidas. The company Tashi has a sponsorship from. Suddenly you have a feeling about what happened.

----

You’re sitting next to Tashi on the bleachers. Neither of you are playing in today’s game, but Stanford tennis still insists on all players attending for support. You doubt Tashi minds this rule. She always gets into the game, mumbling little things about the players, regardless of who was playing. These moments were the only times you really talked anymore, it was now or nothing. You look at her and take a deep exhale, “I got an email from Adidas.” 

She turns and looks at you, her eyebrow raises but then she smiles, “Really?” You nod in response, “They want to give me a sponsorship.” Her smile just grows, but before she can have a chance to respond, you ask, “Did you tell them something?” 

“What?” she asks, looking at you. She lets out a scoff like laugh, but then realizes your expression is serious. “It’s not like Adidas is going to give you a sponsorship just because I asked them too.” 

“Yeah but you were–” she cuts you off. 

“Well I think you deserve one. Doesn’t mean I could get it for you,” she says with a shrug and head shake, as if to say what did you expect. 

“I just don’t understand how else they would–”

“You can’t be serious,” she says with a laugh. She looks at the game and then towards you. “You’re currently ranked fourth in women’s college tennis. Of course you’d be on their radar.” You just look at her blankly. Well when she put it like that it made some sense, but you still felt lost. She sighs and tilts her head, “It’s so tiring watching you try justifying these things.” Your eyebrows furrow and she continues. “You think you’re this awful player, but you’re not,” she pauses, “I mean I understand why tho. The academy really did a number on you.”

You feel yourself get a little more tense, as she brings this up. “Huh?” is all you can say. 

“Art told me. About the bullying. About Patrick…” she starts. Before you can even process the fact that Art told her everything, she continues. “It actually made a lot of sense. There was always something off between the two of you. At first I thought maybe you had a crush and that’s why you were avoiding me as well, but what Art said made a lot more sense considering your whole complex with Tennis.” Complex with tennis? What?

“I..well,” you start but are unable to find the words. She continues, “You are a good player tho. You deserve the sponsorship.” You just look at her and nod slowly again, she leans in and with a smile says “Congrats.” Both of you then turn to look back at the game, although it’s the last thing on your mind. 

----

Tashi’s words never left your head after that. Your headache only grew after that. Another thing to spend time pondering about. A complex with tennis? What did that even mean? You were also somewhat shocked that Art told her all of that, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him. The only thing clear to you after the conversation, was the fact that your urge to avoid them all had grown. 

It’s around eleven pm and you were walking back from the library. Practice had become a little more intense as you got closer to the end of the season. Between that and the time you had to spend in class, you were staying up later to finish your work. It was all getting to you. Your life had become: class, tennis, work, class, tennis, work.  You had three more matches left: Pepperdine, UNC, and Purdue. Then the season would end and you wouldn’t have to worry about tennis until next year. The Adidas email was still unanswered. It was fine. You promised to get around to it eventually. 

As you walked on the sidewalk back to your dorm, you started to feel as if you weren’t alone. You turned around and saw a car a little behind you moving slowly. You turn back around without getting a proper look, and grip your backpack strap a little tighter as you decide to walk a little faster. The driver must have realized, because they too started to drive a bit faster. You start to run, but as you’re about to cross the road, the car swerves in front of you and stops. This time you do get a good look. You’d know this car anywhere. You feel frozen in place. 

“Get in the car,” Patrick says. His voice is more of an order than a question. You just stare at him. “Get in the car,” he repeats. You look around to see if anyone is there walking over and opening the passenger seat door. Everything happened so quickly, it feels disorientating. 

“What–” 

You’re not given the chance to finish the sentence as he spits out, “I can’t believe you’re ignoring me again. I thought we were over this.” You just look at him, as he starts to drive, you’re not exactly sure where. You open your mouth to ask, but then he says, “Yeah okay we fucked up. We have been fucking up. But you don’t just get to disappear.” 

You watch him, as he continues to drive. “I’ve been busy,” is all you say. He scoffs, “Too busy to respond to my message, but not too busy to tell Tashi about the academy, huh?” he says, leaning in again. Your brows furrow and you start to say “I never–”

He cuts you off once more, “Oh please, cut the crap.” He looks to the side and then to you, “I’m so fucking tired of this.” He is close enough that his nose is touching yours, “How convenient of you to leave out the part where we’ve been sleeping together? Can’t stand not being the victim?” His words aggravate you and you begin, “Patrick–”

He cuts you off again, “The poor scholarship kid. The poor bullied kid.” His tone is mocking and combined with the fact he hasn’t let you get one proper sentence in yet, you find your anger increasing. “I mean it looks like it got you places. Art said you got an Adidas sponsorship. Good for you,” he says with a scoff like laugh. Did Tashi tell Art about it? You shut down the thought. You don’t have the time for it right now. 

“Fuck you Patrick,” you bite back, and he laughs again. “Don’t you ever get tired of this? You have everything, and you still act like it’s nothing,” he snaps back. 

You scoff and suddenly the car is suffocating. You don’t know where you are, but you’re sure you could figure out how to get back, so you grab the car door to open and leave. Instantly, his hand comes down and clamps down on your arm. He holds you with a tight grip. 

“Let go of me,” you say, looking at him. “No,” he retorts back instantly. You try pulling from his grip, but he doesn’t let you go. It doesn’t stop you from trying again. Once again he just says, “No.” You look at him with a laugh, and pull again, but he pulls your arm with enough force that your whole body moves closer to him. The hand you kept on the door handle is pulled away, and without thinking the hand goes to slap Patrick for pulling you. 

You weren’t thinking when you did it. It just happened. He just looks at you after the slap, equally surprised. The cheek you hit him on is slightly pinkish, although you didn't hit him hard enough to really hurt. Just enough to sting. His grip on your arm loosens, but you don’t move. You’ve been in this situation enough times to know what is going to happen next. And like every time before, you have no intention of stopping it. It’s no surprise when his lips come crashing down on yours. 

Your tongues clash, and your hands move to grip his shoulders. You can feel your nails digging into the muscle there. He moans in your mouth at the sensation, and you feel your arousal grow as he does. As if knowing, his hand goes to slip inside of your pants, gently touching you over the thin fabric of your panties. You whine against his lips at the sensation, and he chuckles. “Such a desperate slut,” he murmers, as he applies a bit more pressure with his fingers as he touches you. “Patrick,” you whimper again, he chuckles at it. You can feel his fingers push away your panties and you feel his middle finger dip into your cunt. It’s long and calloused as he thrusts it in and out of you. The position is insanely uncomfortable; you in the passenger seat, him reaching over the dash, but you’re too needy at this point to care. His thumb runs over your clit as his middle finger continues its motions. You think he is going to dip another finger in, when he suddenly stops. Something in the back of the car catching his eyes. 

“Remove the sweats,” he tells you, as he reaches his hand to the back seat to grab something. You do as he says, pulling it down to your ankles. Your panties are still pushed to the side, so you’re exposed. You lean back against the car door, as you see him pull out a tennis racket. You remember his words at the party, and you can see the brief moment of hesitation on your face. It’s so obscene but it just makes you even more aroused, you spread your legs a little more, and his hesitant look is replaced with a smirk. As your arousal drips onto the car seat, his hands reach out to touch your folds, and then he leans over the dash and spits right on your pussy, tennis racket still in hand. The next thing you feel is the handle of the tennis racket sliding into you with ease.

He moves it back and forth, as he watches. “Fuck,” he groans at the sight, as his free hand moves to palm at his dick through his pants. His breathing is labored now. You squirm in the seat as he continues with the racket, your hand moves down to rub little circles over your clit to bring you over the edge faster. “I’m..cl..” your voice trails off before you can finish the sentence. “I know,” he says with a pant. “Let go for me,” and his words bring forth your orgasm as your head goes back against the window and you feel yourself let go.

He smiles as he sees you come undone. You look at him through half lidded eyes, deciding to give yourself a minute before you both continue, wanting to give him a hand or blow job to get him off. But as his eyes drift down to where the tennis racket is, he stares at it for a moment. The smile slowly falls off his face and his other hand moves away from his pants. He pulls the tennis racket out and you sit up. He turns to put the racket in the back again.

“I’ll drive you back,” is all he says after, not making eye contact as he does.

-----

Neither of you say anything afterwards. After what he said, you fixed your panties and pulled up your pants, and he started driving the car back in silence. His eyes are glued to the road, but you turn to look at him every couple minutes. He looks much more solemn, and you find yourself unable to break the silence. 

He stops at a red light, and you’re still looking at him as his eyes remain on the road. “I’m…You have every right not to text me,” he suddenly starts. “I don’t…You should probably stop texting me.” His voice is so defeated and small, it’s almost hard to believe this is the same man from ten minutes ago. He starts driving again, and you look out the window.

Wherever that parking lot was, it must not have been far from campus, because before you know it you can see your dorm building in the distance. “You should stop here,” you tell him quietly, not wanting to get too close to the building where someone may see you. He nods as he parks at the end of the road. You pick up your bag to leave, but from the side of your eye you see him face you again.

“Why..I can’t believe you let me do that shit to you,” he says. He is facing you in the passenger seat now, but is unable to look at you. You look at him, feeling a weird knot in your stomach. “Patrick…” you start, but your voice drifts off. You’re not sure why either. “You shouldn’t let me do that shit to you.” His voice is a bit louder and still upset. “God you should fucking hate me,” his eyes look back up to yours. And then in a softer voice he asks, “Why don’t you hate me?” 

He has a point. You have every reason to hate him. Sometimes what you feel is strong enough to be hatred, but you know whatever you feel for him isn’t hate. You look away from him towards your dorm building in the distance. There is no straight answer you can provide for him right now, so instead you quietly say, “I should get back.” 

He looks where you’re looking and nods with a sigh, saying “Okay…yeah.” 

You say nothing else as you get out of the car with your stuff. You have to fight the urge to look back at him as you walk to your dorm. 

----

Patrick: Won a couple matches I played with that racket. Maybe it really is lucky now. (sent 7:02 PM, 02/22/06)

Patrick: I hope you're doing well. (sent 7:10 PM, 02/22/06)

You never respond. He doesn’t send anything else. 

----

Adidas sent you a follow up email, considering you never responded to the first one. They said they wanted to give you the time to think, but they needed to hear something back. You don’t respond to this email either. 

----

The past couple weeks have been the most isolated you’ve been since your time at the academy. It was like you were fourteen again constantly tormented and with no friends. Except this time, the only thing tormenting you were your thoughts. You wanted to just disappear and avoid everything and everyone. You didn’t even have the energy to think about any of it. About Patrick and why you didn’t hate him. About your supposed complex with tennis. Even just remembering what happened over the past couple months was exhausting. 

You didn’t talk to anyone. Tashi no longer came up to you in the locker rooms or during practice and games. You didn’t know if she was giving you space after your conversation or if this marked the death of your friendship. This also to think about, even if you were relieved that it made it easier to avoid her presence. You also started to skip class more often. You knew you’d also be skipping practice and games if your scholarship wasn’t dependent on tennis. You’re almost free though. Today is the match against Pepperdine. Then two more, and the season would be done. 

You were walking back to your dorm room, when you see them through the dining hall window. Art and Patrick eating churros. You stand and stare at both of them for a moment. Somehow the sight takes you by surprise. You assumed that Patrick was still visiting campus, since he and Tashi were still together. And of course he was still friends with Art, but you couldn’t help but wonder if Patrick figured out if it was Art who told Tashi about everything that happened at the academy. 

You still hadn’t confronted Art about that. You still wanted to, but you still found yourself unable to talk to Art. Just like Tashi no longer talked to youi, he no longer seemed to talk to you. The small talk before and after practice, had now just been reduced to the occasional wave. Your eyes go to Patrick. Neither of you were texting anymore. Nor had he randomly showed up to talk to you, like the last two times. For once in your life, Patrick Zweig had actually left you alone. 

When both boys notice you're staring through the window, you lock eyes with both of them. Art’s expression is stoic, you couldn’t read it if you tried. Patrick looks slightly surprised and for a moment you think he is about to smile at you, but you don’t wait around to find out. You turn away and walk straight back to your dorm. 

----

There’s thirty minutes until the match. You’re dressed in your dorm so you wouldn’t have to bother with the locker room. You're ready to head out, when you hear a knock on your dorm door. You look at it for a minute. You swallow and hope it’s not Patrick, as you open the door. You’re flooded with both relief and disappointment that it’s Art. 

“Uh..hey,” you say, seeing him. He nods and gives you a small smile you can tell is forced. “I saw you today, so I thought I’d come over,” he says. The way he looks at you makes you feel as if he knows something. It’s obvious this is all a pretense to talk about something else. While you don’t know what, you know you don’t want to talk about it. As you move to let him walk into your dorm, you quickly say,  “I was actually about to head out for the game soon.”

He nods, “me too.” He then looks at you, and his lips part again as if he is about to speak. You have no idea what he is about to say, but you already want this conversation to be over. Without thinking, you speak first, “So Patrick is visiting for the game?” 

His lips close, clearly not expecting that. He nods and curtly says, “Tashi invited him.” While this is the same Art you’ve known for years, he suddenly feels much colder. His expression is stony and makes you want to shrink. It dawns on you that this must all be about Tashi. Maybe he was just trying to use what happened to you as a way to get her to break up with Patrick. The thought he would do so is upsetting, and without thinking, you say, “She told me what you said.” 

He nods and shrugs, “Well it came up one day.”

“Really?” your voice exposes the fact that you don’t believe it. 

He just shrugs in response and shakes his head yes as he does. “I don’t see why it’s a big deal.” 

“You don’t see why telling my friend about something like that wasn’t a big deal?” you ask back. 

“Are you really her friend anymore?” he asks, which stuns you into silence. He just lets out a little huff, and continues, “And she’s with Patrick. She should know about it.” You stare at him, unsure how to respond. “She should know what type of guy her boyfriend is,” he repeats. 

“Patrick is your best friend–”

“I know that,” he cuts you off quickly. This was the most impassioned thing he had said this whole time. “But I’m not going to pretend what he didn’t wasn’t awful.” Maybe it was a little more than just about Tashi. He looks at you for a moment, as if analyzing you, “Why do you?” You stare at him blankly, his voice is calm but cruel in a way that makes you want to scream. “Why do you brush it aside?” His voice sounds as if he is trying to imply something and you find yourself just standing there. “It’s like you’re trying to protect him”

“I’m not,” you say back in a quiet voice. He just shrugs in response, and looks to the side, as he looks like he is about to say something, but he then lets out a humorless laugh. Before you can ask why he did so, he says, “See you at the game.” He takes one last knowing look at you as he walks out of the room. 

----

You didn’t have the energy to leave after that. You laid down on your bed for a couple extra minutes, before you realized you would be late if you didn’t leave now. You grabbed your racket and water bottle and headed out to leave the dorm building. 

You walk out of the dorm and then the dorm building quickly, but not fast enough to miss the sight of Patrick sitting on the curb. You stop upon seeing him, and he must sense your presence because he turns and looks at you. His back straightens up a little more and you can see his eyes are red. He’s wearing what looks to be Tashi’s shirt, and the scent of weed drifts off him. 

He says your name as he scrambles to his feet. “I have to go,” you say, pointing with your racket in the direction of the game. You take a step backwards. You don’t have the time for this. You don’t have the energy for this. “She knows,” he suddenly says. 

You can feel your heart drop. “Tashi..she knows about...” He doesn't finish the sentence, but makes a motion between the both of you. 

He says something after that, but you’re unable to hear it. Your legs move without you processing the action, and the next thing you find is yourself running to the court where the game is. You can hear Patrick call after you, but he doesn’t follow. 

----

Tashi is by the bench, pulling out her racket from the case. You run over to her instantly, the moment she processes your presence she scoffs. 

“Tashi–”

She does not let you speak, looking at you with a cold expression. “I don’t know what fucked up dynamic you and Patrick have going on,” she starts, before leaning in slightly in a menacing way. “But keep it away from me.” 

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. It’s not like she would have heard anything you said anyway, the minute she is done speaking she walks away to the court. 

You watch her go, as you sink down onto the bench. The items in your hand falling down beside you. The game begins but you’re unable to focus. You just sit there, your fingers going back to picking the skin by your cuticles. You feel as if the ground is spinning and you want nothing to run back to your dorm. Your mind replays the moment with Tashi. The conversation with Art.  You hear Patrick’s voice ask why you don’t hate him replaying in your head, and you feel all the memories come rushing back. It’s as if floodgates have been opened and nothing can stop it from pouring out. You let yourself spiral as you feel your heart rate picked up.  

You probably would have been like that for the whole game, but then you hear it. 

Her scream. 

----

It’s all a blur after that. You look up and see Tashi on the ground clutching her knee. You don’t waste a moment before getting up and running to her side, but the minute you get down on your knees beside her, her expression becomes even more upset. 

“No!” she says clutching her knee looking at you. “Get away! Get the fuck away!” You just stare as you see her cry, as your coach comes down beside you to calm her down. You see Art run down from the stands, hopping over the net for her. As he moves her head on her lap, you make eye contact with him. 

His expression is worried, but also has something else you can’t place. You look back at him, and he looks away from your gaze down at Tashi. Then you realize what the other emotion is. Guilt. Suddenly, the conversation earlier made more sense. He knew. He knew about you and Patrick. He knew and he told her. Your mind races with questions, but you slowly get up realizing you’re only making Tashi more upset. You look at her one last time, before running to the bathroom for some privacy, feeling the tears well up in your eyes as you do. 

----

You wipe your tears as you sit in the hallway of the campus' medical center . When you stepped out of the bathroom, you realized that they had already taken her off the court. You assumed she was either brought here or was already taken to the hospital. You couldn't care less about your game after everything, so you left for the medical center instantly. When you arrived, you saw a coach talking to one of the nurses and that confirmed she was here.

The medical center was small. A one floor building, so you knew she was just down the hall, but you couldn't bring yourself to go to her. Why would she want to see you? She hated you now. You were a few feet away, but you may as well have been miles away from her. You still couldn't bring yourself to leave. It was like watching a car crash. Awful. Crushing. Yet absorbing. You just sat on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, with your head leaning against the wall.

You hear hurried footsteps from the other end of the hallway, and you turn to see Patrick who nearly runs into the room. 

“Get out!” you hear Tashi say. You can tell he is trying to say something back, but then you hear Tashi say again to get out. While your position in the hallway prevents you from seeing anything, you can hear it clearly. 

“Get the fuck out Patrick!” Art’s voice booms. You just stare at the direction of the door, as you see Patrick walk out dejected. As he steps out he sees you sitting on the floor. Somehow the sight of you makes him look even sadder.

His eyes go down to the floor and he slowly begins walking down the hallway in your direction. You just watch him, as he comes over to you and then slumps down onto the floor next to you. He turns his head to look at you. You stare back in silence. 

“I’m sorry,” he then says quietly. His voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.” 

You look at him with a small nod and respond, “I know.”

And when he leans in to hug you, you close your eyes and wrap your arms around him as well. Your mind goes blank and you let the enormity sink in. You can’t tell if it makes you feel empty or complete.

author's note: If you got this far, I love you <3 Let me know what you think!

[jjkilll]

———--✫CINDERELLA | JJK✫--———

— pairing | idol jk x singer y/n (feat. 127's idol mark lee and mentions of idol jaehyun)

— summary | The Golden release party was filled to the brim, the whole night being about Jungkook and the release of his first solo album. It's hard for him to focus when you look that damn good and when other guys are checking you out.

—  warning | smut, name-calling, rough sex, jealous jk, choking, unprotected sex (please use condoms i'm begging), creampie, oral (f receiving)

— word count | 1.3K

— song | Cinderella - Mac Miller

You and Jungkook had been fucking around for a few months. So naturally when it came time for his release party, you were one of the first to be invited.

Jungkook didn't think he was jealous, But then again people do have a hard time acknowledging their flaws. Seeing Mark chatting you up at the bar in the loft made his neck heat up. Mark Lee was a guy you went on a few dates with when you first got to Korea. He was a nice, funny guy but you two just didn't click like you and Jungkook did.

"You look great Y/n, How've you been. I haven't seen you in a while." He explains with a smile. "Thanks, Mark you're too sweet. I've been good. You?" You respond before taking a sip of your drink. "I'm good too, you know working, company's got me pretty busy." You nod. "Yeah I heard, Jaehyun told me all about you guys' tour, I'm surprised you're even here." He chuckles shrugging. The silence between you two is comfortable before he clears his throat. "So, um you seeing anybody." Before you could respond you hear a voice behind you. "Mark! Thanks for coming out man! I know how busy you and Jae are having you here means a lot bro!" He nods "For sure man," a little irritated that Jungkook interrupted. Jungkook puts his arm around your shoulder. "I see you met Y/n." You look at him and he smiles. "She's great right?" He asks before planting a kiss on your cheek. You look at him eyes widening a bit before looking back to Mark. "Yeah, we met last year... So, just catching up." He smiles lightly at you. "Well I'd hate to interrupt but could I borrow you for a second Y/n?" You hum giving Mark a small smile before Jungkook takes you by the hand pulling you away.

He walks up the stairs past idols hyping him and congratulating him on his release. He thanks them genuinely and you smile trailing behind him, his hand still in yours. You reach his bedroom and he pulls you in.

He backs you up to the shut door and kisses you deeply, almost hungry. "Jungkook," You say breaking the kiss. "Why were you talking to him?" He asks kissing you again. You bring your hand up to his face pulling him in while he kisses you, you wanted him just as badly. You use your free hand to undo his pants. Breaking the kiss, Jungkook kisses your neck. "You're jealous." You say your breathing hitches as he sucks your neck leaving a hickey. "I just don't like to share." He says quickly before going back to kiss your neck. "You aren't my boyfriend, Jungkook," you remind him. He hums, "We can change that." He whispers in your ear sending shivers down your spine.

He grips your waist pulling you closer before he lifts you. He kisses you sloppily, your tongues dancing together. He sets you on the bed shuffling your tiny dress up and pulling your panties down. You watch him kiss the inners of your thighs teasing. He grazes his thumb against your clit and you whimper. "He does it better than me?" He speaks softly. You shake your head quickly, his eyes are low as he smiles. "Words baby." He warns. "N-no he isn't! Please Jungkook, touch me." You beg him getting needier the more he traces his fingers along your skin. "I need you, only you." You say desperately.

He plunges two fingers into your wet cunt. "So wet baby." You moan as he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting the spot you love so much. His lips close around your clit as he fucks into you. You grab a handful of his hair as he eats you. "Fuck fuck fuck." you breathe out, getting so close to falling over the edge. You pull his hair as his tongue swirls around your clit. He moans like eating you pleases him (It does). "I'm going to come, please Jungkook I'm so fucking close," You cry out. "come for me baby, come on my tongue," He says quickening his pace. "Right there, right there, f-fuckkk." You come all over his tongue and he continues licking your clit until you come down. "S-stop I'm so sensitive." You push his head away as he smiles. You sit up on your elbows, looking at him at as he sits up. You notice how hard he is, his pants a little tighter displaying his thick cock. A little wet spot where his dick in tucked in his pants.

"Kook you're dripping." You tell him. "I know I almost came in my pants." He chuckles and you smile. "I'm serious, I only want you," you speak. "Say you'll be mine." He speaks crawling over you. "I'm yours, Kook." You say examining his face your eyes trailing from his to his lips. "Fuck me, Daddy." You say suddenly. He kisses you hungrily. "Fuck I'm gonna ruin you, baby." He sits up quickly taking his pants off and tossing them somewhere in the room. His cock is painfully hard, his tip red and leaking with pre-cum. He strokes himself a few times before lining himself up between your legs. He pushes his cock inside slowly giving you time to adjust to him.

you moan pornographically, and he shushes you. "Quiet baby, you don't want everyone to hear, do you?" You don't respond caught up in the feeling of being stretched out by him. "Move please Kook," you moan. "Suck a little slut begging for my cock, look at you." He starts fucking you at a steady pace. "Yes! Yes, Daddy please." He fucks into it a few times before pulling out. You groan at the loss of pleasure, whining. "Turn around." You quickly obey. He slides back into you fucking you deeply and quicker than before. "Fuck baby it's like your pussy was made for me." He throws his head back his orgasm coming closer. He pushes your head into the mattress making his strokes longer and slower, he feels deeper than ever before. "Oh shit, Jungkook, I-I'm gonna-" You come on his cock shaking as he fucks you and he groans as he empties himself inside you. "Fuck, baby." He slowly pulls out flopping beside you.

You look at each other and smile both chuckling lightly. "You're so pretty." He says softly. You blush hiding your face with your hands. "Don't be shy, my little Boston Creme." You hit his chest. "Really." You say laughing.

Suddenly you hear a knock at the door. "Jungkook!" It's Taehyung. "Come on bro, You're the man of the hour, you can fuck your little girlfriend later." He shouts through the door. You giggle as he rushes to get up. "Come on baby. They've noticed we left." He says putting his pants back on. "I'm sure they heard us Jungkook, we weren't exactly quiet." You remind him.

"Good. Mark will know you're mine." He flashes a smile helping you straighten out your dress. "You can't be this jealous all the time Kook, I told you I only want you.'

"I was not jealous." He protests.

"If that's what helps you sleep at night baby," you say with a chuckle. You leave the room and join the party. After a while you find yourself talking with Mark again. "So you and Jungkook." He starts, "Yeah, we're pretty close." You say innocently. "I can tell." He points to your neck and you quickly look in the mirror on the wall. A purple hickey clear as day on your neck. Your eyes widen as you look. Jungkook finds himself behind you again. "Sorry not sorry baby." He says hugging you from behind.

You smile to yourself, happy everyone knows you're his and his only.

✫ ------------------------✫

a/n: Thanks for reading, I'm only a writer's high rn hehe... feedback and requests are appreciated.

[scramratz]

Rant abt your Cds I'm curious

OK HERE GOES SCRAMS 2024 CD COLLECTION TIER LIST

(Disclaimer: these are just my personal opinions and if yours differ from mine, fine. It’s not a sin to be wrong)

S TIER-

Goo-Sonic Youth: Straight bangers all the way through. Girls love it when you show them your Sonic Youth cd. Extra points cuz the pamphlet unfolds into a sick poster

Midnight Vultures-Beck: Good album to clean the house to. Every song a banger. Beck as a person sets off alarms, though 🤔

Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot-Sparklehorse: Genuinely my favorite artist and album of all time. Fall asleep to Homecoming Queen often.

Siamese Dream-Smashing Pumpkins: Fire straight though. Good when you’re in a depressed 20-something mood. Better than Mellon Collie in my humble opinion.

Gorillaz-Gorillaz: The start of one of my favorite bands and objectively one of the best bands in the world don’t fight me on it I’ll kill you.

A TIER-

Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots-The Flaming Lips: Solid album. Iconic cover art. “Do You Realize??” always got me feeling feelings

Violent Femmes-Violent Femmes: Top 3 favorite band. Every song went platinum in my household. Would have been higher but reminds me of my mom too much.

Dig Me Out- Sleater-Kinney: Got it because the name sounded familiar. Ended up loving them! Doesn’t sound right if it’s not played loud, though, and considering I live in an apartment, I don’t play it often.

Fear Yourself-Daniel Johnston: Got it because I love “Hi, How Are You” but haven’t been able to find it anywhere. Was pleasantly surprised! Hits the same melancholy spot but slightly more upbeat.

Figure 8-Elliot Smith: My favorite sad boy that definitely DIDN’T kill himself. Not my favorite Elliot album but every one of his albums is A tier personally.

The Diary of Alicia Keys-Alicia Keys: WENT QUADRUPLE PLATINUM IN OUR HOUSEHOLD. Prime cleaning the house on Sunday music. Dragon Days is seriously underrated.

Garbage-Garbage: Don’t know how to say this without sounding insane but this album sounds like the color #DC007F and I like that color a lot

2-Mac Demarco: The CHOKEHOLD Mac Demarco had on us artschool bitches in 2016 OMG. Was gonna change my name to Viceroy

B TIER-

Money for Nothing- Dire Straits: Top tier dad music.

Lumine fever- The Adrenals: Got it cuz the cover looked cool. Was pleasantly surprised! They rock the adequate amount

Rocket to Russia- Ramones: They’re good but I don’t get the hype honestly. They’re the Flavor-Aid of Punk

Starfish- The Church: Only love one song on it, the only song anyone likes tbh. The rest are your standard 80s deal

Crooked Rain-Pavement: I really love Pavement but there is a thing as too much Pavement and I think I’ve reached it

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot-Wilco: Honestly should have been in A tier but all the pretentious music dudes I’ve met has soured this album for me so it goes in B outta spite. Jesus Etc my fave song tho

An Evening with Silk Sonic- Silk Sonic: Nice, short, gets me in a happy mood. Does what it needs to do!

Prolonging the Magic- Cake: John McCrea don’t really be singing, do he? He just fancy talkin

C TIER-

Gigantic, Fuel, and The Nixons: I got all 3 on sale and they all sound the same and that sound is…ok? Like it’s alright background music

Blind Melon-Blind Melon: What was with 90’s bands putting random kids as their album covers? Decent listen, though.

Summerteeth-Wilco: Good background music. I can’t remember any songs off it.

Los Angeles/Wild Gift-X: I like X but I hate that fucking album art omg it’s so hard to look at. I like their songs individually but as a cohesive album, eh.

D TIER-

Throwing Copper-Live: bought it on sale with the above 3 but liked this one substantially less. Only redeeming quality to me is the album art.

Ben Folds Five-Ben Folds Five: Misleading considering there’s only 3 of them. He sounds like my ex boyfriend from highschool before I realized I liked girls

F Tier-

The Ragetones/Fall Apart-The Ragetones: Saw them play at a shitting basement show. Everything sounds better when you can barely hear yourself think.

F Punk-Big Audio Dynamite: Found it at the thrift and rehomed it outta pity. Sounds like the 80s in a bad way.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 8.5: 007- Peña, Agent Peña

Summary: After Javi's surprise on the Peña ranch, you had already had the best night of your life. Little did you know, your night was just beginning.

Word Count: 4.9K (This is as short as it's ever gonna get, this is just who I am)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up), creampie, praise (oh boy, does Javi tell you what a good job you're doing), semi-public nudity?? (not really, but you'll see!!), mentions of eating/food, mentions of alcohol, mentions of loss of a parent, you and Javi being absolute goofballs and being lovesick idiots

A/N: SO. I finished Chapter 8 and went to go walk my dog, and the song "Would That I" by Hozier came on, and it 100% is the inspiration behind this mini chapter. I literally came up with the idea for this chapter and wrote it in less than 24 hours because Javi and Osita live in my head rent free at all times being the cutest two idiots to ever exist. Enjoy this fun lil bit, it's honestly probably my favorite thing that I've written for this series so far!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“I’m not sure if cold, post sex and first I love you’s is the way that your dad intended us to eat these enchiladas, but holy shit are they delicious.” You and Javi laughed, finishing the last bites of the enchiladas verdes Chucho had packed for the both of you. It probably would have made more sense to eat dinner almost an hour ago when Javi had first taken you out to watch the sunset in the back of his truck, but, no offense to Chucho’s enchiladas, having the most romantic sex of your life followed by Javi telling you that he loved you for the first time seemed to take higher priority to you. 

“These ones are actually pretty good, I will give him that. Thank God he’s finally starting to get better at cooking, a few months ago his food was practically inedible.” Javi shook his head, wiping his face with the back of his hand as gathered both of your cleared paper plates and forks, tossing them into the empty paper bag Chucho had sent them with. 

“Actually? I didn’t know he had come such a long way in his cooking career in such a short time.” You snickered, pulling some of the blankets laying at the edge of the truck bed over you as you scooted yourself closer to Javi, laying your head against his chest as you snuggled next to him. Pulling you closer, Javi wrapped his arm around you, fingers tracing gentle circles along the back of his sweatshirt you were now wearing. 

“Actually. He never cooked until my mom died. One day he called me while I was still in Colombia and told me he had found one of my mom’s recipe books and was gonna teach himself how to cook. When I came home, he insisted on making me dinner every night so he could show off whatever he was learning. I ate a lot of sandwiches after he fell asleep the first few months I was home.” 

“Well despite the terrible food you had to eat, that’s actually really sweet. Glad I came around when I did so I only have to reap the benefits of his good cooking and not suffer along with you.” You giggled as he squeezed you before giving you a playful shake wrapped in his arms. “Can you cook at all, or is this a warning that you’re gonna subject me to your awful cooking too?” 

“I can cook enough. Not a good cook by any means, but definitely not my Pops a few months ago. Can do more than Kraft Mac and Cheese, I’ll tell you that much.” He smirked, poking fun at the first meal you had made. You sat up, giving him the biggest stink face you could muster without bursting into laughter.

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, don’t act like you wouldn’t have eaten an entire second pot if I hadn’t made one for you, Mr. Literally Will Literally Eat Anything Under The Sun In World Record Time.” 

“If I seem to remember correctly, you weren’t doing a lot of complaining after I ate, Osita.” He winked at you as you nudged your elbow into his side before he grabbed you, rolling you over and playfully wrestling you into the pile of pillows and blankets beneath you. “C’mere, Hermosa.” He wrapped his arms around you as you giggled and squirmed beneath him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grasp. You kicked your feet as he kissed at your neck, his mustache ticking you with each peck of his lips. Using all your might, you were able to roll over on top of him, straddling his lap as he lay on his back, breaking free of his grasp.

“Can’t get me that easy, Peña. Wrestling was the only way I got anything from my brothers for the first ten years of my life.” You smirked as you leaned down to kiss him as his fingertips gripped into your hips, pulling you further on to his lap. 

“Could think of worse ways to lose a wrestling match.” Javi’s face smug as he gestured to how you were sitting on top of him, letting out a quiet groan as you started to grind into his lap, feeling him already half hard beneath you. “Careful, Hermosa. Not gonna be so nice if you’re gonna try to play dirty.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to make the next move. 

Still bent over him, you kissed up his neck and jaw before nipping at his ear. “Last time I checked, you liked it when I played dirty.” Your whispers left jaw slack, pressing up into you, his dick already straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. 

“Fuck me.” He murmured under his breath as you began to grind harder into his crotch. “You wanna play dirty, baby? I can play fuckin’ dirty.” You could see the lust filled in the dark pool of his eyes, biting down on your lip, already feeling the slick pooling between your legs with each sway of your hips. “You already wet for me, baby?” 

This man read you like a book- like he had every fucking page memorized. “Mmmhhhmm.” You nodded, feeling how soaked the fabric of your sweatpants already was as you felt your clit rub deliciously against Javi’s dick, hard and heavy underneath you. 

“I know you are, dirty girl. Want me to touch you baby? Want me to make you come before I fuck that perfect pussy again?” You nodded again, frantically shaking your head yes at his filthy words as you worked yourself against his length. He laughed to himself, shaking his head as he watched how blissed out you already were rubbing against him. “Too bad.” 

You paused, shooting him a confused look. “What do you mean, too bad?” 

“You know exactly what I mean. You wanna play dirty, I will too. You wanna come? You get yourself off like this.” He gave you a subtle nod of his head, gesturing to how you were sitting on top of his lap. 

“Are you serious? Javi, c’mon, please.” You rolled your eyes at him as you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to play off how desperate you already were for him. 

“Rules are rules baby. Fight dirty, play dirty. C’mon pretty girl, I know how needy you are, how wet that pretty pussy is for me.” He mewled as he toyed with the waistband of your sweatpants, fingers brushing against your skin. He dug his fingers into your hips, slowly pushing them back and forth against his lap, encouraging you to pick back up your pace brushing up against his dick with every motion. “There you go, hermosa. That’s my girl. Just like that, baby.” He praised as you found yourself rubbing harder and harder against him, slick coating your thighs. With his length, it wasn’t hard to feel how big he was, making it easy to find a sweet spot that brushed up against your sensitive bundle of nerves as you rocked your hips back  and forth over him. 

“Javiiiii, fuck.” You whined, feeling the heat build at the base of your spine as your clit rubbed harder and harder on his covered cock. 

“That’s it, Osita. Doing so good for me, baby. God, you look so fucking pretty riding me like that, C’mon, I know you’re close sweetheart.” His praise had you climbing towards your high, each time you ground your hips into him had you closer and closer to coming undone. His name fell from your lips, moaning as he was gripping your hips again pushing you deeper into him. 

“Javi, I’m so close. Fuck, fuck fuckkkkkk.” You whimpered as you felt the euphoria rush through you, gushing, feeling your pussy throb from the intensity of your orgasm. You slumped into him, face falling on to his chest as you caught your breath. 

“Such a good girl, Osita. My good fucking girl. Did so good for me baby.” He whispered in your ear as hand his hands along your body, trembling at his touch. “Still want me to fuck you, dirty girl?” 

“Yes, holy shit, yes.” You moaned. “Please, I need you so bad Javi.” He helped you pull your sweatpants down, kicking them off your feet as you straddled back over Javi, sitting on top of his thighs. Slipping your fingers under his waistband, you pushed the pants down, revealing his dick, already red, precum leaking from its tip, leaving a stain on his sweatpants. You lifted yourself up, slowly sinking down on his length, each inch splitting you open with the sweetest stretch. Even without his fingers to warm you up, you were so wet that you took him easily, feeling yourself bottom out on his cock as Javi let out an audible groan. His hands reached around, giving you a light smack on your ass before his fingers kneaded into your flesh. You began to raise yourself up and down along his length, swirling your hips as your hands tugged at the hem of his sweatshirt that you were wearing, ready to take it off. His hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you before you could get any further. 

“Keep it on. Fuck, I love seeing you in my clothes.” He bit down on his lip as you nodded, rubbing your hands up and down his chest as you threw your head back, drunk on the way his dick felt hitting against that sweet spot inside you. The hair around his base rubbed against your clit, making you whine as you picked up your pace. “Jesus Hermosa, fuck me. Taking me so well. My sweet girl.” His voice was thick and raspy between his heavy breaths, his eyes glued on your every move as you rode him. 

Suddenly, you felt him shift. Sitting up with his back pushed up against the truck, he wrapped his arms around you pulling you in so you were chest to chest, foreheads pressed against each other. You could feel him thrust up into you, his cock punching that magical spot that made the heat at the base of your spine creep up your back. “Javi, fuck baby, you feel so good. Fuckkk.” You tugged at his thick curls, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the scent of his sweet and spicy cologne clinging to his sweatshirt. 

“I know, hermosa, I know. Fuck, you’re so wet and tight, baby. Gonna give me one more? Soak my dick before I fuck you full of me again?” You wrapped your legs around his waist, digging your fingers into his back as you felt yourself snap, screaming his name as pleasure ran through every inch of you. You could feel how tight you were clenching around his cock as you came, his thrusts pounding deeper and faster into you. It didn’t take long for him to meet his own end, only needing a few more pumps before you felt his seed spill into you, leaking down your thighs and into his lap as you slumped into each other. 

“Fuck, Osita.” He whispered between his labored breathing, lifting his head off your shoulder, smiling at your blissed out face. “Jesus, I fucking love you.” 

“I love you too, Jav. Super romantic with your dick still in me and your cum dripping down my legs.” You giggled, still sitting in his lap. 

“It’s fucking hot, is what it is. Fuck me, you’re so sexy. What the fuck did I ever do to deserve such a beautiful woman who fucking loves me like you?” 

“God, you’re so sweet. Get your dick out of me before I start crying again, you menace.” You both laughed as you shifted off of him, grimacing at the mess you had left behind in Javi’s lap. “Do you have any towels, or leftover napkins? Sorry, I made a fucking mess. So much for those showers before we left.” 

Javi paused for a moment before a sly grin crept across his face. “Ostia, can you swim?

You raised an eyebrow at him, very confused by his question, considering you were surrounded by a gigantic, grassy field. “What? Yes, of course I can swim? Why are you asking me that? How is knowing if I can swim helpful right now?”  

His smile turned giddy, smirking at you as he shimmied his sweatpants back over his legs. “C’mon, get in the truck.” He slid himself off the back of the truck bed, standing up and outstretching his hand toward you. You quickly pulled your sweatpants back on too, following behind him as he helped you out of the truck and picked you up to put you in the passenger seat. 

“Javi, what the hell are we doing? Are you gonna go throw me in a trough or something? Listen, I love those cows, but I am not gonna be happy if you toss me into a bucket full of dirty cow spit water.” You crossed your arms at him, waiting for a response. 

“You’ll see.” He winked at you before shutting your door, hopping over to the driver’s side and starting up the car. 

“You’re lucky I love you.” You grumbled, still crossing his arms at him. He reached over the center console, giving you a quick kiss before pulling away and shifting the truck into drive. 

“I’m a very lucky man, indeed.” You finally shifted out of your playfully grumpy demeanor, melting as Javi stared at you, his sweet, puppy dog eyes making your heart explode every time they landed on you. You turned up the radio as Javi pulled away, heading the opposite direction that you came from, his headlights shining on a thick patch of trees at the end of one of the pastures. Driving a little deeper into the wooded area, Javi put the car in park, leaving you even more confused than when you left. He smiled at you as he shut off the ignition, hopping out the door before coming around to your side, helping you out of the car. 

“God, I thought driving me out to the middle of the field was bad, but taking me out into the woods in the pitch black? You really never are beating these serial killer allegations, I’m afraid.” 

“You’re the worst, do you know that?” Javi shook his head as he grabbed your hand, pulling you along with him as he began to walk through the trees. 

“I’m just saying! Listen, if you really wanted- Hey! Hey! Put me down!” You squealed as Javi picked you up, flinging you over his shoulder as you pounded your fists against his back, kicking and giggling with each step he took. God, was he strong. He carried you like it was nothing, laughing to himself as he watched you try to wriggle your way out of his fireman hold. Letting out a huff of defeat, you slumped further into him, staring at the ground as he took each step. 

“At least I have a good view of your ass from here.” You snickered as he continued walking. 

“You really like my butt, don’t you?” He laughed, rustling you in his grasp, still flung over his shoulder. 

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you are built like a God, Javier Peña. You’re very much proving your point right now carrying my fat ass through the woods.” 

He stopped, setting you down so you were facing towards him, placing his strong hand under your chin before tilting it up towards him. You gazed up at him, a surprisingly serious look spread across his face. “Hey. I love your ass. I love your body. Every curve, every single bit of you. Okay?”  

“Okay.” You softly replied, pulling you in tighter as he kissed the top of your head. “So are you gonna tell me where the hell we’re going, or are you just gonna keep carrying me through the woods?” 

“Turn around.” He nodded his head, gesturing behind you. As you spun around, you saw the moonlight sparkle off ripples of the pond in front of you. Rocks and tall grass surrounded the edges, water from a small stream flowing from behind the reeds into the pond. An old, worn wooden dock sat at the end, hovering over the first few feet out into the water. You turned back around to look at Javi, now smirking at your pleasant surprise with his most recent mystery. “I was out here every day as a kid in the summer. Nothing much, but it was deep enough to swim in. Haven’t been back here since high school, probably.”

“Is this where you’d take all the ladies to woo them with your swimming skills?” You joked, giving Javi a nudge as he stared around the pond. 

“No.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Just me and my friends, sometimes my cousins when they came over, if I was lucky.” 

“Well, I feel very honored to be the first lucky woman to get to see this secret pond.” You replied, slipping your sweatpants off your waist, leaving your bottom half exposed. Javi’s jaw dropped for the second time today watching you strip yourself of your clothes. “What?” You looked at him as your sweatshirt came next, dropping in a pile next to your pants, leaving you fully naked in front of him. “Aren’t we getting in?” You tilted your head at the pond, smirking at Javi who was now speechless. 

“You sure?” He said, gulping as he looked you up and down, your soft skin glowing in the moonlight. 

“Would I be standing here naked if I wasn’t?” You shrugged your shoulders as you raised an eyebrow at him. “You gonna swim in your sweats or am I gonna keep standing here like a naked idiot waiting for you?” Before you could say anything else, Javi’s clothes were on the ground next to yours, leaving you both bare, hidden amongst the secluded trees. This time, you grabbed his hand, running as you pulled him to the end of the dock, abruptly pausing as you got to the edge. “Are there like, weird things in here? It’s deep enough to jump in, right?” 

“Hermosa, just get in, you’re fine.” 

“Okay, but like-” 

“Osita, get in or I’m gonna push you in.”  

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

“You know I fucking will.” 

“Ugh okay, okay! Just promise me-” 

“1…” 

“Javi, wait-” 

“2…” 

“I’m being serious, don’t you do it! Javier Jesús Peña, I swear to God-” 

“3!” 

Before you could finish, Javi had his arms wrapped around your waist, swinging you back and forth, throwing you over the edge of the dock, limbs flailing as you splashed into the water. You peeked your head up, running your hands over your face as you watched Javi laughing hysterically. You flung your hand against the water, trying your best to splash him as he still stood at the edge thoroughly amused with himself. 

“I hate you, I hope you know that.” You grumbled, splashing him again. “Hey, wait, where are you going?” You shouted as you watched Javi turn around, making his way off the dock. It wasn’t long before you regretted asking the question, as Javi quickly turned around, getting a running start as he launched himself off the edge, drenching you as he drove into the water, making waves that splashed against you upon his entrance. You swam there for a moment, waiting for his head to pop up somewhere next to you, when suddenly, you felt something wrap around your ankle, making you absolutely screech at the top of your lungs. You swam as fast as you could back to the edge of the dock, clinging to the edge as you heard more hysterical laughter behind you, turning around to see Javi cackling to himself as you panted breathlessly, waiting for your heart rate to return to a semi-normal pace. 

“Holy shit, I didn’t think I was gonna scare you that bad, Osita.” He came down from his laughter, looking over at you hanging from the wooden planks still trying to catch your breath. “I’m sorry, baby. Are you okay?” He swam closer to you, now seeming like he felt a little remorse for what he had done. 

You took a few more deep breaths before letting go of the dock, looking back at him. Now only an arms’ length away from you, you swam full force towards Javi, wrapping your body around his, trying to wrestle him in the water. “You are an absolute jerk, you know that?” You grunted between your giggles as Javi grabbed you back, spinning you as you thrashed in the water, splashing it in his face before he grabbed your face to kiss him. Your legs locked around Javi’s hips, arms wrapping around his neck as his slipped behind your back, pulling you closer, feeling weightless in the water. He drew away for a moment, taking one of his hands to caress your face, rubbing his thumb along your jaw. 

“I forgive you, I guess.” You smiled as you sat there for a moment, taking in every detail of his face. His messy wet hair, his chocolate brown eyes, the way his mustache shifted above his lips as he smiled, everything about him that made you love him even more than you thought you already could. The way he looked back at you made you feel like there wasn’t anyone else in the world who could ever love you more. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi.” 

He brought you in closer, placing another gentle kiss on your lips. He pulled away again, this time with a look of panic washing over his face.

“What? Are you okay?” 

 “Was that your foot?” 

“My feet are wrapped around your waist?” You looked at him curiously. 

Trying his best to keep calm, Javi swam you both closer and closer to the shore, still carrying you with him as you stepped back on to land. This time, it was your turn to laugh at him, suddenly realizing why he had gotten out so quickly. “Not big and brave now, huh?” 

“At least I didn’t scream like you.” 

“Oh shut up.” You giggled as he set you back down, now sopping wet and shivering next to your pile of clothes. “Any way to explain to your dad why the hell we’re both coming back soaking wet?” You grimaced as you started to pull your sweatshirt over your wet body.

“We’re not.” His face smug as he followed suit opting to only put on his sweatpants, leaving him shirtless as you both headed back through the trees. 

“So…. What? You’re just gonna ask your dad to close his eyes and ignore us when we come back inside?” You raised an eyebrow in confusion looking up at Javi as he reached down to grab your hand as you walked. 

“No. To be honest, Pops is probably already passed out in front of the TV, but of course, you can’t walk through the front door without going past him. We’ll just sneak in through my bedroom window and he’ll be none the wiser.” 

You stopped for a second before laughing at him, continuing to walk as you shook your head. “Sneak in? What are we, 16? I know you said you’ve never brought any girls down here before, but I have a very hard time believing this is the first time you’ve snuck a girl into your room, Javier Peña.” 

“Only a few times.” He looked down at the ground sheepishly as you squeezed his hand. 

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Jav. Wouldn’t be my first time sneaking in either.” You admitted, your cheeks turning slightly red at your admission. 

“Really?” He perked up. “You don’t strike me as the type, but do tell.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You just seem like such a rule follower, maybe it’s the teacher in you.” He shrugged as you rolled your eyes. “What’d ya do?” 

“Fair, I guess. I was 17. One of my friends was having a party at her parents house while they were on vacation, and being the rule follower that I am, I asked my parents and they said no. I was so mad because it felt like they always let my brothers go out and have fun and I never got to. So, once everyone was asleep, I snuck out, rode my bike all the way to my friends house, got drunk out of my mind, which is part of the reason why I can never drink vodka again, and by some miracle, was able to ride my bike back home. When I came in through the side door of the garage, my brother David was in there, already waiting for me. He told me that he could hear me singing at the top of my lungs halfway down the block. He took pity on me and helped my drunk ass up to bed and never told my parents. He’s always been my favorite brother. Then, I pretended to have the stomach flu for the next 3 days to cover up for my hangover.” You both laughed as you finished your walk up to the truck, Javi opening the passenger door for you as you stepped in. 

“No vodka, duly noted. You trying to tell me your singing gets even more obnoxious when you’re drunk?” He smiled as you buckled yourself in. 

“You love my singing, don’t lie. But um… maybe… Just a little. You’ll just have to deal with my sober serenading for now, sorry.” You smirked at him as you shrugged your shoulders, Javi laughing to himself as he shut the door behind you. 

……….. 

As promised, you spent the rest of the ride to the ranch windows down, blaring “Go Your Own Way” from Fleetwood Mac, noting that even though Javi had put on the album not long ago, you were a bit distracted to actually listen to any of the songs. If it was anyone else, Javi would have rather been caught dead than singing along to anything, regardless of song, album or artist. But lucky for him, you weren’t just anyone. You were his everything. Javi was sad when you’re singing came to an end, lowering the music as you pulled up to the house, trying to remain as quiet as possible to not wake up his dad. 

“Too bad you don’t have the James Bond soundtrack in your car, I feel like we’re on some sort of secret mission right now.” You whispered, trying to close the truck door behind you as quietly as possible. 

“C’mon, you dork.” He replied, taking you by the hand and leading you around the edge of his house. You both tiptoed along the wood siding of the house, Javi leading you before stopping under one of the windows, slightly cracked open, pushing out of its frame. “Alright, if I lift you up, can you push it the rest of the way open and climb in?” 

“Sure thing, Agent Peña. What number do you want to be, since you clearly can’t be 007, that one’s already taken. I don’t think they’ll let you be the next James Bond with that ‘stache.” You mumbled, stepping in front of Javi as he got ready to lift you up. 

“Will you just get in the window, please?” He scoffed, squeezing his hands on your hips, getting ready to hoist you. 

“Fine, fine, just say you wanna be lame and move on. I’m ready.” As Javi shot you up, your fingers wrapped around the edge of the windowsill, humming to yourself as you shimmied yourself in. 

“Bada boommmm, bada booommmmm, bahnanah.”  

“Are you seriously singing the James Bond theme song right now?” Javi looked up at the window as you pushed open the rest of the pane, now looking down at him. 

“Yeah, at least one of us should have a little fun with this. You need my help getting in?” 

He hadn’t even answered your question before he was already halfway through the window, pulling himself through and landing on the floor.  

“Showoff.” You grumbled to yourself as he closed the window behind him. Wet and uncomfortable in your clothes, you stripped them off of you, drying yourself off from the towel you had left on Javi’s bed from your shower earlier. Javi did the same, shedding his sweatpants and throwing them next to yours before you both crawled under the covers, curling into each other. You pulled the comforter up over you, nestling against the warmth of Javi’s body. Laying your head on Javi’s chest, Javi ran his fingers through the ends of your hair, still damp from your swim. It wasn’t until you hit the bed that you realized just how exhausted you were, barely keeping your eyes open, your eyelids heavy with sleep.

“Javi?” You asked, looking up at him, your voice low and soft, letting out a quiet yawn. 

“Yes, Osita?” He peered down at you, fingers still twisting through your locks. 

“You really love me?” 

He chuckled warmly, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. “I really do. Con todo mí corazón. (With all my heart.) Get some sleep, Hermosa, I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

He paused, waiting for you to respond. 

“Hermosa?”  

The only thing he heard after that were your sweet snores humming against his chest, you already sound asleep in his arms. He gave you one more kiss on the head before pulling you closer, shutting his eyes as he whispered one last goodnight.  “Buenas noches, Osita. Soy un hombre afortunado. Tienes todo mí corazón para siempre. Te amo.” (Good night, Osita. I’m a lucky man. You have all of my heart, forever. I love you.)

..........

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

[demxters]

☆ for blurb night requests; Ace's parents promising to visit for some reason and then standing her up, so Jake rallies their friends for a day of activities and just hanging out, to get her mind off it

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

wc: 1.5k

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), family abandoment, absence of parental figures, angst

catch up with jake and ace here!

a/n: i could write about them forever (and i will)

»»————- ♠︎ ————-««

Jake’s eyes light up at the sound of your ringtone going off on his phone. He wasn’t expecting you to call today because you were meeting with your parents for lunch. Despite his initial surprise, he picks up, just in case something was wrong. “Hey, baby,” he greets with a small smile on his face. 

The sound of a sniffle reaches his ear causing his smile to fall. His heart drops, knowing you were crying on the other end. “Ace?” 

Another sniff leaves the speaker. “Can you come get me, please?” 

Just by the sound of your voice, he knows you’re about to break. Jake doesn’t even hesitate to slip on his shoes and run to grab his keys at your words. “Of course, sweetheart. Is everything okay? Are you safe?” 

You hum in response, your silence causing Jake to worry even more. 

“Baby?” Jake asks again, prompting a word of response from you to ease his racing mind. 

“I’m okay, Jake, just need you.” Your voice is muffled, but he hears you loud and clear. 

It feels like his heart is being squeezed in a fist. He wishes there was more he could do, but for now he had to get to you first. “Just stay put and I’ll be right there.”

He thanks God for hitting all the green lights on the way to the restaurant. As he pulls into the parking lot, he sees you sitting on the curb in your pretty dress and make up all smudged around your eyes. Even in your disheveled appearance, you still looked as beautiful as ever. Jake puts the truck in park and haphazardly throws his door open, hurrying out to make his way to you. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, seeing your eyes filled with a new round of tears. Within seconds he’s crouched in front of you and pulling you into his arms. He presses your face into the crook of his neck and soothingly rubs gentle circles onto your lower back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m here, I’ve got you.” 

That seems to set you off even more. Another broken sob leaves your lips making Jake’s chest tighten at the sound. He desperately wanted to ask what had happened. He wanted to know where your parents were or what they said to you again to make you this upset. He has never met them, only knowing them through the sporadic phone calls you received from them and the tears you’ve shed because of them. He didn’t know them, but he knew that they weren’t the best of parents. Jake found himself afraid of what you were going to say and with good reason. But he knows you need your space and that you’ll tell him in your own time. 

He had made the mistake once of pressuring you into speaking to him when you weren’t ready to and he never wanted to make you that angry again. 

So instead he opts to help you get settled into the truck with your seat belt snuggly across your waist and begins the drive back to your apartment. 

Jake glances at you from the driver’s seat every now and then, just in case you broke down again. He could see the storm brewing in your eyes as you stared out the window, resting your chin on your fist and your forehead on the glass. 

He rhythmically taps his thumbs along to the beat of the Fleetwood Mac song that’s playing from his radio to try to calm his nerves. Which he knew was silly of him, considering you were the one in an emotional turmoil right now. 

He had hardly driven two miles when you finally spoke up and Jake is surprised that you spoke so soon. 

“They didn’t show,” you confess softly. 

Jake turns off the radio as soon as he hears you speak. He gives you a moment to collect your thoughts, taking your free hand that sits in your lap and grasps it tightly in his. When you don’t pull away, he pulls your interlocked hands into his lap. 

“There was no text, no call, nothing. I just sat there like an idiot, waiting for them to show up!” You raise your voice, the pity you felt for yourself turning into hot anger. “I was there for thirty minutes before the waitress asked me to leave because they had other reservations. I mean geez, Jake, how could I be so stupid?” 

“You’re not stupid, Ace.” 

You scoff, shaking your head with disappointment. “Naive, then. How could I have been so naive to think they were actually going to keep their promise and show up this time?”

He didn’t have an answer to that question. He knew you weren’t looking for one but he wanted to be able to say something to make you feel better. Instead he presses a kiss to your knuckles and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, hoping his actions could convey some comfort. 

You didn’t say another word after your little outburst, even when you got to the apartment. You just gave him a kiss on the cheek in thanks before disappearing into your room. Jake sat on the couch, folding his hands over his lap and patiently waited for you to come out. When he heard the shower start to run, he knew you wouldn’t be coming out any time soon. 

Thinking about how sad and defeated you looked when he went to pick you up broke his heart. It made him realize that all you really wanted was to spend time with your family. Jake wished he could give you everything you ever wanted. 

Jake’s phone chimes and he pulls it from his back pocket to see the Daggers group chat going off. Lightning struck him then as he urgently opened his phone. 

Your family is what you wanted and Jake knew exactly how to give it to you. 

_______________

The sound of Jurassic Park was playing softly from the living room as you stepped outside of your room. You weren’t expecting anyone to be home other than you and Jake, so you cautiously creeped out to the hall. 

There, the sounds from the living room get louder and you’re able to make out your friends’ voices. Rounding the corner, you see Nat, Javy, Bob, Reuben, Mickey, and Bradley all sprawled out across the room. Each of them talking over one another as if in the middle of an important debate. In the mix of them all, you see Jake sitting on the love seat with a spot specifically reserved for you. When he sees you, his eyes light up and he beckons you over with an open arm. 

“Ace, come help us settle this once and for all.” He smiles widely at you, tucking you into the space beside him. 

You instinctively snuggle into him, smiling bashfully at your friends who have been alerted to your presence. 

“Which is better, the Park or World movies?” 

All eyes are on you, awaiting your answer. “Jurassic Park. Obviously.” The room erupts into chaos once more, everyone’s chatter overlapping one another. 

You laugh, watching as they continue to go off on one another. 

The heavy weight on your shoulders is gone in an instant and you remember the reason for your low mood in the first place. You had canceled movie night to have dinner with your parents. You told everyone they could do their own thing today, so you were wondering why they were all here. 

It was until you looked up at the blond whose arm was wound tightly around your middle as he leaned his cheek against the top of your head. A rush of warmth floods your veins upon realizing that all of this was his doing. You’re overwhelmed by his love and thoughtfulness, so much so that you think you might just cry again. You would never get used to being loved by Jake Seresin. 

Instead, you wrap yourself around his middle, muttering softly into his neck, “You didn’t have to do all this for me.” 

Jake looks down. “Of course I did. You were missing your family, so I thought why don’t I bring them to you?” 

Your family. They weren’t the people who birthed and raised you. They weren’t the people you were related to by blood. They weren’t traditional in any sense that a family would be. However, Jake was right. They were yours. 

Not once has your parents shown you an ounce of care and attention that the group in front of you did. 

Not once did they take you out for important milestones or to celebrate your birthday like Natasha did. 

Not once did they remember your favorite movie like Mickey did, or remember your favorite book like Bob. 

Not once did they take you out for important milestones or to celebrate your birthday like Reuben, Bradley, and Javy. 

Not once did they know every little thing about you like Jake did. 

Not once did they love you like this group did. 

They were never your family to begin with. These people, however, the ones who dropped everything just to help cheer you up today, were. And they always would be.

tgm taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @breezemood @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me @blueoorchid @aviatorobsessed @blackwidownat2814 @hallecarey1 @averagereader35 @laneylovesglen @atarmychick007 @kajjaka @urfavelocagirl @clancycumber230 @memeorydotcom @kmc1989 @percysaidnever @thestarspangledcaptain @wkndwlff @shanimallina87 @dracosluvbot

[horseforeplay]

So I’m very autistic about music and I loved how succession made Kendall’s music taste have so much character and be so accurate to who he is and who he thinks he is, which made me start thinking about the other siblings listening to music. I just cannot imagine it. I can’t imagine Roman putting on his little AirPod and opening up a Spotify playlist or putting on posters in his room for a certain thing. The idea of shiv being into drill and grime is extremely funny to me. I think connor tells Alexa to put on slow old Spanish ballads blasting (at an appropriate volume) through every floor of his desert house and Willa wears noise cancelling headphones constantly. I just can’t decide if Roman has an obscenely normal man music taste (like what plays in gyms) or if he actually cares about music. And then I listened to horse foreplay again and I need to make a playlist for it so basically: what do you think Roman would listen to?

incredible message. oh man. for one, connor genuinely seems like a music lover because that’s in line with his situation being the only sibling to genuinely enjoy the spoils of wealth and just stuff generally. he also has that fleetwood mac line at tom’s bachelor party, and famously karaokes a fucking leonard cohen song. love him.

kendall’s music taste is central to his character, we all know what ken’s taste is (or at least i think we do, i have seen some very funny “ken listens to this” mixes. they should resemble the intern-curated obama end-of-year picks LOL). shiv i have no idea about, but i wouldn’t be surprised if she had some appreciation for whatever dad liked if dad ever bothered to point something out. i don’t think she listens to florence + the machine though be serious you guys just see a girl with red hair…………….

my personal read on roman’s whole Deal is that he has the least “life of his own” of the siblings. even his reputation / the rumors about him (that he’s a playboy who loves coke) are the least accurate to his actual behavior and preferences (esp when contrasted with ken’s public takedowns which hurt his feelings precisely Because they’re often true). it’s difficult for me to imagine roman having strong personal taste in….. pretty much anything, even when he sees his choices symbolically (“i want steak” speech in america decides). in the end, roman is most interested in cultivating an image of himself that is going to be the most protective of his true desire for authenticity and connection, but we know that he has no idea what to do with himself when he is confronted with an opportunity to actually “express himself”.

all this to say, it is very difficult for me to imagine roman sincerely enjoying music/art without a level of detachment, irony, or jokey judgement. if he likes certain sounds, i couldn’t see him singing along like kendall in the backseat. maybe a handful of songs are nostalgic for him, maybe some post-hardcore (…. fugazi….. honestly……) or even MAYBE some britpop or eurodance from the european half of his childhood. he wouldn’t allow himself true sentimentality with it though. he certainly knows all of the lyrics to a few songs bc he’s very In the World, esp culturally impactful songs, but he just seems like a guy who fucking hates bohemian raphsody. he knows who the pinball wizard is but i can viscerally feel his frown at hearing the baba o’reilly opener in a shop. he simply would never admit to loving a band, let alone buy a t-shirt! (i think i get a little annoyed generally with assumptions about roman that cast him as even a little bit twee just because he’s silly. look at how he actually dresses. this man would not paint his nails or have a charm on his phone. you’re thinking of kieran culkin!)

anyway this is my fav horse foreplay fanmix by @gotouda just bc it’s bursting with songs that are simply About Romtom. full of stuff me a young millennial gay person listens to so i play it a lot lol. there’s also an unsettled/upsetting undercurrent to some of these choices that matches the tone of the fic PRECISELY!!!! i have no idea how someone would go about building a mix based on romtom AND character taste just bc it is nigh impossible for me to picture roman roy listening to a song BECAUSE it reminds him of tom.

tom on the other hand…………….. that’s elton john, that’s ABBA, that’s broadway original cast recording, that’s george michael, that’s adele. ok

[quitealotofsodapop]

[bonding experience/enrichment.]

Just food? What about things like theater, since SWK does know Mac was interested in that?

Wait...when did musicals become a thing?

Don't worry! The gang take Macaque out on all sorts of activities when he's up for it, not just food.

Macaque quickly gets a hang of television and films, much to SWK's surprise. ("It's recorded on wax and film and projected using light and electric signals. It's not that hard to understand.") But the second Tang mentions seeing a live version of a musical like say Les Miserables, then Macaque *immediately* wants in.

"Modern" theatre has been around since about 1800s, but theres a lot of variation depending on where you were in asia at the time of Jttw. A lot of stage shows in China during the pre-Tang dynasty were song and dance dramas recreating real life events, or battles. Shadow Puppetry (like with Mac enjoys) became a thing during the Han Dynasty (140 – 87 BCE). Depending on when Macaque passed away, he could have been exposed to the romantic-comedy era of Zaju theatre in the Song (960–1279) dynasty.

Macaque really doesn't like crowds, but he can attend a live show as long as he has someone to ground him. The first musical the others bring him to is one that infamously uses shadow puppetry in it's effects; The Lion King.

Macaque is silent for the entire production, so much so that the others think he's bored stiff - except for Wukong who knows what Mac looks like when he's completely enthralled. And because Mac has been subconciously clutching SWK's hand since "Circle of Life".

The second "King of Pride Rock" finishes, Macaque jumps to applaud and cheer. He gets so excited talking about the effects and music afterwards that he can't stop stimming (hand flapping and jumping into his shadows) and ends up crashing asleep the second him and Wukong get home. He's the kinda guy to bring flowers to throw on stage for the actors.

He gets so infamous at the theatre as a frequent and supportive guest, that he gets offered a job working there. Mac quickly accepts. Macaque presents his first shadow play that very halloween at a children's matinee - a few traditional fairytales (like the story of Chang'e and Hou yi, and the tales of Nuwa), capped off with his infamous "The Hero and the Warrior" story, with a slightly more... hopeful ending. He's gets a little flustered when the kids starts asking "Did the Hero and the Warrior get married after?" at the end. Especially when he remembers that Wukong (along with the rest of the gang + Nezha) came to support his opening show. His shows become very popular for all the effort and heart he puts into them, and his insane shadow puppetry skills. Ends up with a few friends/co-workers from the theatre who kinda know he's The Six Earred Macaque, but they aren't saying anything.

Some extra theatre/musical hcs I have for the LMK characters:

Current favorite musicals/plays of Macaque's include; Wicked (the themes of persecution, the unfairness of history, broken friendships, and grief really speaks to him), The Phantom of the Opera (only he understands the motivations of a drama king), and Mamma Mia (he likes the Abba songs).

Wukong gets bored like... real easily. He's a comedy guy. But he'd rather be bored watching something with Macaque than alone. He tries to underplay how interested he is in things cus he thinks he's just annoying people. He accidentally "WHOA!"ed loudly the first ever time he ever saw the live costume change/transformation in Beauty and the Beast. He got really embarassed, until Mac backed him up with his own excited hooting. He also really enjoyed Great Gatbsy ("That wasnt exactly a musical, peaches." "It had a lot of songs though." "Fair point.").

Pigsy doesn't really care for musicals, prefers straight acting. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't cry during The Waitress.

Tang is a Nerd. A big history Nerd. He has seen almost every historical musical and play there is, and critiques them harshly for accuracy. Except for Hamilton - he will relent for the eye and ear candy alone.

Nezha has really old fashioned tastes. He likes traditional chinese opera. His fave is "The Heavenly Maid Scatters Blossoms". He also liked "Matilda".

Princess Iron Fan and DBK have seen "Romeo and Juliet" like hundreds of times, in multiple languages. PIF stopped seeing the show after her husband was imprisoned. She does however have a ridiculously in-depth knowledge of Shakespeare and other Elizabethan era plays. DBK unashamedly loves sappy romantic musicals, and will sing the love songs to PIF when he can.

So yeah. Lots of theatre enrichment for the drama king himself.

[tkachukz]

How is Matthew Tkachuk as a boyfriend

-Matthew is an extremely competitive person, so since you agreed to be his girlfriend, he works hard to be the best boyfriend in the world

-That means he's always researching things to do, bringing you gifts without special occasions, and planning dates in detail

-But he also loves spending the day with you cuddling on the couch watching a movie

-For dates, he likes to take you to fancy places, where you can dress up and he can watch you in a pretty dress

-He loves playing sports, and is always planning to play them with you

-You've already joined him in golf, tennis, cycling, mountain climbing and scuba diving

-He still intends to make you play hockey eventually, but for that he still needs to teach you how to skate

-And of course the game would only be between close friends so you don't get hurt

-He can be quite overprotective, but only because he cares about you a lot

-At parties and events, he likes to have one hand behind your back

-First because he knows that big events make you nervous

-And secondly, because he want to make sure that everyone knows that you are accompanied

-If any guy approaches you, he will loudly introduce himself as your boyfriend, maybe shake his hand or pull you closer

-But it won't take you out of the conversation if you want to stay

-He likes to be present at your side, but also he likes that you feel comfortable talking to whoever you want

-Things change if the guy tries to hit on you, makes a pass at you, or makes you uncomfortable

-Matt will put himself in the middle, pulling you behind him

-He prefers to resolve things by talking, intimidation, or simply getting you away from there

-But wouldn't mind punching someone if the situation called for it.

-He wouldn't let anyone hurt you

-When you are alone, he allows himself to show his most vulnerable side

-Matt has always felt very pressured into what people expect of him, and having you by his side, someone who loves him entirely for who he is, makes him immensely happy

-And he has no problem showing it

-He never hangs up a call, leaves the house, or goes to sleep without saying 'I love you'

-Little kisses on top of the head, holding your hand whenever you leave the house, opening and closing doors, offering your arm when you're in heels or needing to deal with stairs. Before you met, you didn't know he could be such a gentleman.

-You lost count of how many times you ended up with his suit over your shoulders at the end of parties because of the cold

-And he loves to see you wearing his clothes, be it a t-shirt or a coat, but mostly, his jerseys

-with his number and last name stamped very large

-When he is traveling, you can expect a call from him every night

-Sometimes it comes with a complete analysis of the game, a gossip about a teammate or something that happened in your day

-But sometimes it's just you looking at each other for a while, mumbling longing, and often sleeping listening to each other's laughter

-You've fallen asleep on too many phone calls while Matt had the camera on, because watching you so relaxed made him feel good

-When he comes back from his trip, he always brings a gift

-Often from the city he was in, some cap or teddy bear

-Or when he felt that no gift was good enough, he resorted to flowers

-Lilies, your favorites

-He loves watching you do everyday things

-Watches you out of the corner of his eye as you're getting ready to go out, doing your makeup and humming Taylor Swift

-He secretly likes the songs but likes to pretend they're not a big deal just to watch you take a deep breath and start a ten minute monologue explaining why Taylor is the music industry

-And you secretly know he likes the song, but you love talking about Taylor

-He is not very good at cooking, but he is always committed to helping you

-You tend to leave him with simpler tasks that don't involve fire

-Like cut vegetables or decorate cookies

-One day he surprised you with a wonderful mac and cheese

-You let out a sincere smile when you saw that he had looked up the video step by step on youtube

-And it was very good.

-He loves to give little love bites

-all affectionate

-And he doesn't mind when you call him a little pest or teddy bear

-Only when you're alone

-Matthew wants  to be the best boyfriend in the world and so far, you definitely have nothing to complain about

-He is doing a great job

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hiiiii i hope it’s okay that I’m submitting this not on a weekend but as always I’m haunted by your fics and want as much as you’re willing to give!

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸(ik this is a lot of emojis but i mean can you blame me i think this story has forever changed me - and I’m especially loving all the reunions!)

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊(buck please learn that you’re lovable and that eddie loves you for you!)

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨(established relationship! Don’t mind if i do! And i love how in any universe eddie can’t not keep the will a secret for a while)

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮(CRANBERRY MY BABY COME BACK TO ME)

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️(PROPOSAL!!!! CAL YOU’RE TOO GOOD TO ME!!!)

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮(this visiting each others childhoods thing is so intriguing! Can’t wait to see what scenes you’ve thought up!)

You’re my favoritest person and i already love everything you write in response to this! Thanks for sharing!!

TOTALLY OKAY THANK YOU!!!

81 for 🩸(AHH THANK YO!!!!):

---

Eddie is quiet when they leave May’s apartment. Buck understands why. It’s a lot to process. The knowledge, fresh from the CDC, that he might just collapse at any moment and wake up healed. How there is a path forward to getting his life back, but not one he can choose to take or even line himself up for. It’s cruel, really. Buck feels the cruelty of it, so he can’t imagine how much worse that is for Eddie.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Buck asks during the drive. 

“Honestly? Not really.” Eddie sighs. “Like Athena said, until there are legal protections put in place, nothing changes.”

Buck nods. “Sorry.”

I’m sorry, but I will keep you safe. I will protect you. Keep letting me. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Buck asks. “I know today has been heavy.”

Eddie thinks on it for a second.

“Can we not go home yet?”

“S-sure,” Buck says, surprised. “Is there something you want to do?”

Eddie shrugs. “Not really. I just… I just don’t want to go back to the house just yet. I want to… Can you and I just stay out longer?”

“Of course,” Buck says. “Yeah, let’s… Let’s just drive.”

“Thank you,” Eddie mutters. 

Buck takes an exit that sends them southwest. In the opposite direction of home. Towards the water. Eddie starts fiddling with Buck’s CarPlay, finding a playlist of Buck’s that they used to listen to on drives. He’s the only person in the world, besides Chris, who he lets touch his music settings when driving. He keeps the volume low, then slumps back in the passenger seat, eyes drifting shut. 

An entire Fleetwood Mac song plays. Buck struggles to focus on the road, eyes keep flicking to Eddie’s still voice, ears filled music. 

So I close my eyes softly, till I become that part of the wind…

Buck can’t help the shaky exhale that escapes his lungs. It’s easy to forget that this is real. Really Eddie, in front of him. That he’s not going to disappear into mist. Buck has to keep himself from tracing the lines of Eddie’s profile with his eyes, so they don’t accidentally swerve into oncoming traffic.

Eddie doesn’t say anything again until Stevie Nicks is done signing about tracking ghosts through the fog. 

“I can’t bank on this Spontaneous Elimination shit,” is what he says as the playlist switches to something a bit more modern. 

“No.” Buck answers, because it’s the truth. He shouldn’t sugar coat it. 

But…

“But they’re looking for other cures,” he reminds Eddie. 

Eddie nods, still not opening his eyes. 

“Accessing that would probably mean coming forward about my, uh, condition. Medical records. Paper trails.”

“There is that,” Buck agrees. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says. “For all of it, Buck.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Eddie.” Buck shakes his head. He feels frustrated. This isn’t Eddie’s fault. “I told you already I know what happened wasn’t your-”

“Not for that,” Eddie interrupts. He pauses, finally opening his eyes. “Well, yeah. Okay, that’s part of it. But more for what’s still left.”

“What do you mean?” Buck asks. 

“This whole mess. It just keeps going. I can never get my life back, I don’t think.” He explains. “And so I need you, I’m dependent on you, and I’m sorry that that means your life is… Less, I guess, than it might have been.”

Buck sighs. Fuck.

---

30 for 🌊 (ALMOST DONE THIS ONE! And he is learning it!):

---

“That makes sense,” Buck says“How can we make it quieter?” Buck asks, the thrum of his voice tickling the back of Eddie’s neck. 

“I don’t know,” Eddie admits. “I think now that things are calm, I’m mentally catching up.”

. “It’s been a crazy few days.”

“Sure has,” Eddie agrees. “And I guess… Okay, don’t take this the wrong way.”

He really doesn’t need any more misinterpretations coming out of this bed. 

“O-okay,” Buck answers nervously. 

“I think it’s actually sinking in that you’re here and I didn’t mess things up irreparably.” Eddie admits. 

“Oh,” Buck whispers. He squeezes Eddie a little tighter. “Well very few things can’t be fixed, right?”

“I don’t know.” Eddie replies. “That’s not always been my experience.”

“Mine either, but…” Buck trails off, thinking. He presses a kiss to the back of Eddie’s neck. “Maybe it’s different for us.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie asks. “Why is that?”

“I’m not saying we don’t have to work on stuff, or whatever. Our own crap.” Buck clarifies.

---

42 for 🚨 (yesss Eddie's gonna sit on it for a minute):

---

Eddie holds his breath. 

“Okay,” Chris says after a moment. “That’s good.”

Eddie hears Buck exhale.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. 

“So you just decided?” Chris asks, brows furrowed. “Like you decided Buck is your boyfriend now?”

Eddie isn’t sure what’s confusing him.

“Uh, yes,” he answers. What’s he gonna say? He almost died and then they had sex? Definitely not.

Christopher’s eyes widen in alarm. “Can that happen? Somebody just says you are their boyfriend now?”

“Oh, buddy. No,” Buck jumps to assuage these fears. “We talked about it. It’s what we both want.”

“Oh,” Chris says. “Phew. Because Linnea Templeton keeps following me around at recess and I don’t want her to decide I’m her boyfriend.”

Eddie tries not to laugh. “Okay, well she can’t do that, Chris. If she’s bugging you, let’s talk to your teacher, alright?”

“Alright,” Chris agrees. 

“Do you have any questions for Buck and I?” Eddie asks. 

Christopher considers. 

“I don’t know,” he asks. “Are you going to get married?”

Buck coughs a little. 

“Oh, well…” Eddie looks at Buck, cheeks heated. “I think it’s too soon to know.”

“Why?” Chris asks. 

“Those things usually take some time,” Buck replies. 

“Like how much?” Chris presses. 

What the fuck, kid?

---

21 for 🦮 (she's almost ready!):

---

Maybe there’s a difference between mourning what he lost and denying himself a future he likes. He’s not sure he trusts it. But maybe. 

“Thanks for hanging out with me today, Chris,” Buck says. “Cranberry and I are pretty lucky to have you as a friend.”

Chris grins. “You’re welcome!” 

“Your dad is going to be jealous that he had to spend all day getting soaked out there helping people while we had fun,” Buck says. 

Chris laughs. “He should play hooky from work sometimes.”

“Pfft, yeah. Who wants to go to work?” 

🦮🦮🦮

It’s close to midnight by the time Eddie gets home. Chris is sleeping in bed with the door propped open. Cranberry is curled up at the foot of his bed. Buck had meant to keep her out with him so she doesn’t wake him if she is alerted by Eddie walking through the door. But Chris had weaponized some pretty intense begging eyes when he asked to sleep with her. What was Buck supposed to do?

Eddie looks exhausted and smells like sea water and sweat.  “Thank you so much,” he says to Buck. “I seriously owe you.”

---

63 for ⚡️ (HELL YEAH A PROPOSAL):

SPOILERS AHEAD

---

“He will say yes,” Maddie replies easily. “Which I think you must already know. Otherwise the tone of this conversation would be very different.”

Buck smirks. “I think he’ll say yes.”

“Do you have a ring yet?” Maddie asks. “Are you doing a ring?” 

“No,” Buck says. “I mean, yes, I want to do a ring. No, I don’t have one.”

“Do you want help shopping?” Maddie offers. 

“Yeah, I would. I’d love that, actually.” Buck grins. “But there’s someone else I think I need to bring, too. Just gotta tell him first.”

☆☆☆

Eddie goes to the person he always goes to when he’s not sure what’s in his head, after Buck. Because he can’t exactly take this to Buck. He goes to Bobby. 

He won’t lie. He does have some reservations about bringing this to Bobby. Not that he thinks Bobby would steer him wrong. More like, it feels a bit less like going to a confidant for advice, and something closer to asking a father for blessing to marry his child. And, honestly? Maybe there is some of that here. But mostly, Eddie sincerely wants Bobby’s take. 

It is surprisingly easy for Eddie to go to Bobby without arousing curiosity in Buck. Like, Buck is almost eager for him to be out of the house?

“I need to help Pepa with some yard work,” Eddie announces, like a liar, the night before a day off. “I was thinking of going tomorrow afternoon. Are you good with Chris for the day?”

He is ready to have to say, no, Buck, I don’t need your help. I can go alone. Because it is so very like Buck to offer to help. 

Except, this time, he does no such thing.

“Sure! Have fun,” Buck grins. “Say hi to Pepa for me. Chris and I will probably go out for dinner, so stay as long as you need.”

Well, okay. 

So Eddie leaves the next day to Buck thrusting an extra-large reusable water bottle in his hand and practically ushering him out the door. He knows Chris and Buck have fun one-on-one without him, but damn. Trying not to feel at all sore about it, he drives to Bobby’s. 

Eddie did not ask Bobby if he could drop in on him and trouble him with his nuptial questions. Bobby mentioned he had no plans for their four-off, and Eddie just kind of takes advantage of that intel. 

“Eddie,” Bobby greets him with a smile. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“I was kind of hoping to talk about something sort of serious,” Eddie says. “If now is an okay time?”

“Sure,” Bobby frowns. “No transfer papers I hope?”

That fun old inside joke. Jesus. Though does he have to transfer if they get married? Is it, like, an extra conflict of interest?

“Ha, no.” Eddie chuckles awkwardly. “Definitely not.”

“Good. Then come on in,” Bobby lets him through the door. “What’s going on?”

---

27 for 🔮 (thank you so much!):

---

Has Bobby been sent here to change Maddie’s future? That seems insane and random, but who is he to say? Who is he to question it? He has to, at the very least, try. 

So Bobby walks up to the edge of the driveway, in plain view of the van, and calls out to her. 

“Excuse me!” He tries. “Maddie Buckley?”

Nothing. Maddie doesn’t turn. Buck doesn’t turn. In the van, Doug doesn’t turn. 

Interesting. 

“Maddie!” He shouts, a little louder. 

Nada. 

Bobby walks over and knocks on the side of the van. He can feel and hear it, but no one seems to notice. He picks up a stone on the ground and tosses it up the driveway, landing a foot away from the porch. No one sees. 

Okay. Okay, so Bobby is just a passenger here. He’s just meant to watch. 

In the van, Doug rolls his eyes and gives a little honk. The absolute ass. Maddie tenses on the porch.

“I have to go, Evan,” she says.

[pinksilvace]

Hey fern, what if you dropped a top 10 favorite cats the musical characters list

omg 😳😳😳 maybe we could find out 😳😳😳

1: Alonzo

Surprise, surprise, I know. Silly little vain/uncertain/bravado guy. What is he doing. I just know he's so full of anxiety but he's also probably emotionally illiterate. He's SUCH a big bro figure in my brain in a number of ways, but mostly because I think he'd be the kind of guy to try and fix problems, fail, and dejectedly call for mom's help after the fact.

There's not much I can say about Alonzo that I haven't already said:

Here's where I ranted about his adjectives.

Here's where I ranted about his design for the Egg Cracker Bracket.

Goodness knows I've probably ranted across many many many tags as well. Idk man he's just so Gender to me and I think he's really funny and I love that he's a bit of a loser depending on how much the actor plays up the "uncertain" part of his character (the one that prominently comes to mind is here during Grizabella, the Mac scares, the end of M&R, and the IMMEDIATE change in demeanor during the Song of the Jellicles). I LOVEEEE that he's often shown to despise Tugger; it's such a funny dynamic. I love that different productions have him looking to Munkustrap, Skimbleshanks, and Cassandra for guidance. I love that fics make him a bit of an ass sometimes. For whatever gripes I have with Broadway revival choreo, I also love that it gave him some more character moments than he used to :D.

Every depiction of Alonzo I see gives me a new, interesting look at the character. I have yet to find one I dislike.

Aghhhh we've reached the point where this ranking gets really hard 😭😭😭 LMAO

2: Demeter

She was my favorite when I first got Really into cats circa 13 years old. I'll forever be bitter that she had no presence in 2019. She's LITERALLY the second most important character for the sake of the plot and they just LEFT HER OUT??? Just because she's hard to recognize after only a single watch or two??? hhhhhhhhhhhhh

The way actors portray her is ALWAYS entrancing. If cats is Subtext: The Musical, Demeter is Subtext: The Character. The Macavity number??? Come ON. The fact that she opens the show? Her reactions to literally everything??? Oughhhh sometimes she makes me want to chew on concrete.

Sometimes, there are portrayals of Demeter that I dislike, though. I guess it makes sense for a character whose words are skittish/cautious/paranoid, but sometimes, those traits seem to supercede her personality, which is always a shame. I particularly enjoy her interactions with Munkustrap and Bombalurina, of course, so when those are overshadowed by just how scared she is, I think it tends to weaken stuff overall. After all, those relationships thrive on how they interact and curb that fear.

I don't spend nearly enough time thinking about Demeter and it's an absolute travesty. Ma'am you are the heart and soul of the show to me. You keep everything thematically linked together. I love you

3: Munkustrap

I think that Munkustrap might be the definition of a comfort character for me. His mental health is rock solid. He's so dad-coded it's unreal. I desperately need to watch a production of Cats and only focus on Munkustrap, because his interactions with everybody are spectacular. There is so much character fit into this guy. He's also entertaining to me because I would NOT guess his adjectives, ever; they always come across as a characterization secondary to his role, and I like that quite a lot.

And oh my gosh, his DESIGN!!! I think Munkustrap has some of the prettiest makeup in the show, and his whole look is pleasingly cohesive. There's so much happening on his face, but when it's good, it's PHENOMENAL.

COME ONNNNNNNN, the HIGHLIGHTS on those WHISKERS??? The gradients on the cheeks and nose??? oooohhhhhhh it pleases me IMMENSELY. I also really like how the makeup blends into the wig, and the shape of the wig is also one of my favorites in the show - especially when it's a bit droopy, like Michael Gruber's in '98.

let's not forget about the collar

Anyway YEAH!!! He's one of my favorites to see actually moving onstage, consistently has a beautiful voice, and has some of my favorite relationships in the whole show :D

4: Admetus

This is a bit of a cheat listing. I really don't think about Admetus that much, but I would REALLY like to think about him more. I want to know what his deal is. Like Munkustrap, I think he has some fascinating relationships onstage that all present very differently - his time spent with Tumble/Pounce, Victoria, and Alonzo come to mind.

But also

THE MAKEUP

THIS LOOK WITH THE BIG LOWER LASHES??? GIRL HELP YOUR CAT IS GNC AS HELL. EASILY my favorite cats makeup look EVER. I know it's just because they have to slather on Mac's stuff later but I love that most of the face is left plain so they went absolutely ham with the eyes. It's the opposite of Munkustrap's. Brilliant.

anyway yeah he looks cool and I think his role in the tribe is in a really interesting flux stage

5&6: Pouncival and Tumblebrutus

They are a pair... do not separate

okay okay OKAY I know I often talk about my favorite characters in terms of how funny they are, and these guys??? Absolute clowns. The product is exactly what's written on the tin; they sure do pounce and tumble!!! Even a few weeks ago, they probably wouldn't have been so high on the list, but writing CFP and forcing myself to learn more about their characters as a result has skyrocketed the amount of love in my heart for them. If I had to choose, I'd probably say that I like Pouncival just a tiiiiny bit more since I think he's more memorable and I prefer his design, but the way they both look up to almost everybody else in the show is intoxicating to watch.

My favorite moments of these two are, of course, Pounce here (2:35 onward) and Tumble here (2:14:25 onward). I just think they're neat.

7: John Partridge The Rum Tum Tugger

(Okay, but, like, John Partridge is the ultimate here. My second favorite is probably Zach Bravo since his take on the character is so different, but there might never be a Tugger as suave as Partridge ever again.)

Going back to his antagonistic relationship with Alonzo, I think it's interesting that they share "vain" as a descriptor. I also think that Tugger's relationships are interesting in that a lot of them aren't necessarily dissimilar with one another (they're all quite teasing, whether romantic or platonic), but they are unique to him. The dynamism of his character is probably what makes me like him the most; I love how he code switches between his own number, Old Deuteronomy, and Mr. Mistoffelees.

Aside from all that, come on. The swagger is magnetic. (I'd write more but my fingers are starting to hurt)

8: Bombalurina

women <3

(I do have additional thoughts about her character! She's intelligent, generous, and flirtatious, and though she's always seeking romantic/sexual attention, those interactions are always secondary to her relationship with Demeter, which is something that I really like. Depending on the performer, she can easily come across as one of the strongest characters.

...but yeah. women <3)

9: Skimbleshanks

(swings microphone around) I am once again answering on the basis of "I just think they're funny"

Seriously though, at this point, there are so many characters that could make it onto this list. I think Skimble juuuuust made it here because EVERYBODY loves him, and that just makes me love him more. He and Mistoffelees definitely seem like the most popular choices for fanart from folks outside of the fandom, 2019 or otherwise.

Also, whenever I need an answer in Quiplash and can't think of anything, I put in Skimbleshanks, and without fail, somebody always votes for it, even if they have no idea who (or, in their mind, what) Skimbleshanks is.

There's not a single thing I dislike about this cat or his number; I couldn't possibly begin to list everything here. I just haven't thought particularly hard about him as a character yet.

10: Electra

I must admit that I've barely spent any time at all thinking about Electra. HOWEVER, her interactions with Munkustrap are adorable, and the single father alonzo fic has irreparably changed my brain chemistry, and for those reasons alone, she's earned her place here. I also think the unitard design is really unique and beautiful :D

Honorable Mention: Tantomile. She was my favorite when I watched Cats '98 as a young'in :).

[krenenbaker]

Heartslabyul Character Songs and Associations

I was going to make this into a video, and I still may (I actually finished most of it a couple months ago, and then my editing program became uncooperative, so for now it's going to be just text and links here!) but these are some songs I associate with the different characters in twst!

I've included:

A song that represents them

A song they'd listen to

and (for some) an additional song, depending on the character and circumstance

Every song is from my liked songs playlist (so feel free to judge me for my taste, haha!) and I only allowed myself to use an artist once for this project. There is also some strong language and mature themes in some of the songs, so be aware if you choose to listen to them.

I'll be posting for each dorm over the next few days, beginning with our rosy boys from Heartslabyul!

The full Spotify playlist for ALL songs and characters is linked at the end of the post.

Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

Riddle Rosehearts

Represented by: Tongue Tied - Emily Portman

I actually changed this from a different song recently - I was having a hard time choosing between them! However, this song nicely reflects the physical and mental control that Riddle's mother has over him. He is completely obedient to her, despite the harm she causes him (which he doesn't even really recognize). Riddle has very little say in his life, essentially making him "tongue-tied" in a different manner. This song is also based on a German/English folk tale, which connects in my mind to the England-ness of Riddle's homeland of the Queendom of Roses.

Listens to: The Seasons, OP. 37a, TH 135: No. 7, July "Song of the Reaper" (P.I. Tchaikovsky, Lang Lang)

Riddle almost certainly was raised listening to classical music. He would have been exposed to many different composers, but I think he would likely enjoy the grandeur and atmosphere of Tchaikovsky's work, and may also admire the composer himself. And Riddle would especially enjoy the clear structure of a piece like 'The Seasons'.

Ace Trappola

Represented by: Original Prankster - The Offspring

Ace tends to look for whatever will give him the most fun in the shortest amount of time. Though he does care for others and their well-being, he likes to surprise people, and trick them a little (if it's fun and easy, that is!). At his core, Ace is a bit of a troublemaker! (I think he would probably listen to The Offspring as well)

Listens to: What's My Age Again? - blink-182

I think Ace would like pop punk music, especially playful bands like blink-182. It's high-energy, fun, and generally lighthearted, both in lyrics and music. He may have even been introduced to some bands by his brother!

Deuce Spade

Represented by: Boys Don't Cry - The Cure

Deuce has... a lot of regrets about his past. He is making an effort to change, and is trying to learn to be a happier and calmer person. But I think he is still afraid of reverting back to who he used to be, especially since he places such high expectations on himself.

Listens to: River of Happiness - Dolly Parton

On the other hand, I think Deuce's music taste is pretty gentle. I think he'd be a huge fan of Dolly Parton, and he'd probably listen to her with his mum :) (Ace has definitely tried to make fun of him for it... very unsuccessfully.)

Trey Clover

Represented by: Joy to the World - Three Dog Night

It was honestly really hard to choose for Trey... which is odd since he's one of my faves! This song represents him fairly well, though, with his generally easygoing nature, as well as his tendency to do things that will benefit him in some way (rather than out of general love, care, or 'for the greater good'), while still being pleasant and playful.

Listens to: Tusk - Fleetwood Mac

I don't know why, but I think Trey would listen to Fleetwood Mac! I think he'd especially like Tusk because of the story behind its recording, as well as its slightly chaotic composition. He'd just like the ~energy~.

Bonus - Also listens to: Always Look on the Bright Side of Life - Monty Python

You cannot tell me that Trey wouldn't like Monty Python. It fits his style of humour perfectly, and he was probably raised on the films, too!

Cater Diamond

Represented by: Cheap Queen - King Princess

Cater is also an easygoing person, always living in the moment. He may come off a bit superficial, but that is a bit of a persona, covering up some underlying loneliness and a desire for both fun and connection. I think this song represents some of that. Cater's also one of the few characters that is strongly suggested to be queer in canon (at least in the JP version), so a King Princess song also fits in that regard.

Listens to: Bicycle - RM

While this isn't the most recent song, Cater would probably listen to any music by RM (and BTS in general). 'Bicycle' has the gentle mood and moderate tempo that Cater says he likes, And the lyrics are also fully in the present moment - just how Cay-Cay lives his life! ☆*。★ﾟ*♪ヾ( >з・)ノ

Bonus - Suggests for Music Club: Lemon Boy - Cavetown

I wasn't sure if this song was too sad for Cater to suggest to play in Music Club, but I think that even for just the tempo and instrumentation, it would be a song Cater would like to play. However, he would definitely listen to Cavetown (and probably relate to a lot of songs), even if it's a little more niche than Cater's preferred mainstream pop music.

[mygloviesme]

cool about it. || myg

no. 8: trying to forget about it

predebut/debut!yoongi x female idol

summary: kanako is an established idol with a growing career and a secret relationship with a producer from her label, haneul. when she’s asked to work with yoongi and rm to create a track for her, she gains unexpected feelings for a certain upcoming rapper. with her increasing fame, her controlling boyfriend, a set of six boys who seem to have grown an attachment to her, and a new boy who’d give her the world, how will she figure out a way to balance it all?

(definitely inspired by boygenius)

word count: 3.5k

genre: ANGST, friends(?) to lovers, slow burn, lots of pining, slight fluff

chapter warnings: toxic relationship (not w/myg), mentions of mental health

inspo song: silver springs (live at warner brothers studip) by fleetwood mac

"I know i could have loved you, but you would not let me."

MARCH 3RD, 2012, 11:59PM

I’ve still managed to keep myself awake even though everyone started snoring the minute their heads hit the pillow. Which was 30 minutes ago. I knew they had to start recording early tomorrow and working on their debut album, but it didn’t help that my sleep schedule had messed up due to my lack of responsibilities. Which, resulted in me doom-thinking until 2am most nights. Yes, I’ve named it doom-thinking because of the absence of my phone. It surprises me too, how I’ve managed without it. But it’s almost peaceful, if it wasn’t for my negative ideas that storm my headspace to make up for it. 

“Go to sleep.” I hear Yoongi say, groggily. I know he doesn’t like his sleep to be interrupted and me shifting around under the comforters probably doesn’t help. 

“I…can’t.” I admit. 

I hear his body turn over, and I lean towards the edge of the bed, resting my cheek on the border of the mattress. I try to adjust my eyes to see his face and can make up some features but it’s mostly his eyes. They just sparkle even in the darkness, what can I say? Like stars.

I make out the sound of his deep breath, which I presume to be a sigh. 

“What’re you thinking about?” He fixes his gaze to look into mine. 

“Just…him.” I mutter. He’s not the ideal person to be confiding in about Haneul, but I know he’s my friend before anything else.

“I see.” 

“Do you want to meet me outside…on the balcony?” I whisper. 

I see him nod and I quietly move from the bed, Yoongi following suit. I unlock the door and open it, unable to stop the loud creak it makes which causes a wince from me. We both rush out and I look back to see Yoongi grabbing a blanket in a brisk move, being the one to close the balcony door. We both take a breath of relief, hoping no one heard. 

He takes my hand and brings me down to the tile ground near the railing. We both sit next to each other in front of the quiet road as he unfolds the thick blanket and drapes it over our connected shoulders. He tugs at the end of my side of the blanket, making sure I’m fully covered. 

“That okay?” He asks and I reply with a soft bob of the head. 

He confidently takes my hand again, this time only placing his palm on the top of my hand. 

“What about him?” He breaks the ice.

I hum, looking to the stars. “Just how painful it all is.” 

He squeezes my hand and follows my gaze to the stars as well. 

The quiet outside is nice and unheard of lately. Usually it’s blocked by all the fans and paparazzi that stand outside at 5am, no later, no earlier. 

“I just,” I say, knowing there’s tears to come. “It seems like I can’t catch a break. Like I'm always wondering when the next bad thing will happen.” Uh-oh, the wall is crashing down. 

“I understand that.” He whispers. 

There’s now tears running down my face, and I let myself look at him, look at me. Vulnerability and all. His hand trails to underneath my chin and wipes the clear liquid that’s pooling around it. He keeps his hand there for a while, moving to my cheek. 

“Yoongi, I have something to admit.” I choke. Slow down, Kanako, what’re you doing? 

Don’t say it, don’t say it. This is enough for now. If you cross that line there’s no going back. He’ll leave you and convince the others to, too. You’ll be lonely all over again. 

I jolt my head away from him and his hand, looking down and blinking the tears away. I shrug the blanket off my shoulder and hold the tile floor to balance myself as I get up. To avoid this, whatever this is. Whatever we are. Running away. 

“Kanako, don’t do that.” He said as I was about to turn on my heels. 

I look back to him, the blanket falling from his body as he reaches for me. 

“I can’t do this. I don’t want to-”

“Don’t want to what? Tell me. Please.” He pleads. He leans his body forward, hand still floating in the air and waiting. I clench my hand in a fist before relaxing it, but I still don’t accept his hand. I stand there, looking away from him. Don’t make me say it. Please. 

“Kanako..” He whispers and gets up from his position, closening our bodies. His hands travel to my forearms and he’s looking at me so intently. That same glimmer, sparkle in his eyes that I’ve gotten to know so well. His fingers are long and slender, and they fit around me perfectly. Like a glove. We’re almost eye level but he’s still a few inches taller than me. It’s all too perfect, all too destined. Like this was always meant to be. His heart near mine, our minds connected with the flick of sparks above us. He has the key to me, but I don’t remember giving it to him. 

I have his full attention which is something I’ve never experienced before. I wish he’d stop being so flawless. He mirrors my worried look but he pulls it off much better, easier. He’s holding me like water in his hands. But even with the cracks between his fingers, still no drops have yet to fall. He’s so careful with me. How is it that I feel like I’ve known him my whole life?

I’m not a bomb to him, I’m not ticking with only seconds left. He makes me feel like we have forever. More tears, more silent sobs. I tuck my head in his shoulder and he pulls me in. His long arms are wrapped around my fragile body. It’s like I’m scattered with shards of glass but he’s still willing to get cut. Like I’m ridden with poison but he’ll still drink me in. This is so hard but he makes it so much easier. Like her, like my mother. Like home. 

“Let me love you. Let all of us love you.” He says, and I know it’s only platonically. But his plea sounds like he needs a door to open for it to become romantic with him. Like he has that key in his back pocket but he needs permission to open it. He won’t barge in. Not like Haneul. He won’t break my door down, shatter my windows, set me on fire. He’ll wait outside patiently with a flower in his hand and words of comfort. He’ll wait. For me?

I reply with more crying, soaking his shoulder. He rocks me slightly side by side. Small shh, shh’s, escape his mouth. He hums in my ear and comforts me in this moment, under the stars. Under the universe. Reaching a hand out before crossing the road with me, packing my lunch for me, waiting for me as I tie my shoes. That’s what he exudes. 

“Let’s go inside and let me hold you, ‘kay? Nothing tied to it, just me helping you sleep.” He reassures me, and for once I look up to him and wipe my tears, nodding. He dips to grab the blanket before holding my waist and opening the door. 

I spot a dim light being on in the corner of the room and see Jungkook sitting patiently on his bed. He looks to me and Yoongi, “Can I join you guys?” He murmurs sleepily, rubbing his eyes. I feel Yoongi’s grip loosen and he gestures to the small bed that’s supposedly going to fit the three of us. 

Yoongi is the first to slide in, me going next, and Jungkook completing the sandwich. Jungkook is almost like a child the way he needs my affection. But I don’t mind it, it’s comforting. Like I said, I like that they need me. Want me, platonically for the most part. Plus it makes sleeping with Yoongi easier if I feel like we’re just friends snuggling together, nothing more. He did say that initially, but I know it wasn’t entirely true. I couldn’t help the way I watched him close eyes, having the biggest urge to reach my hand into his hair. Friend’s do that, but not the way I wanted to. 

I can imagine it now, feeling the black strands between my fingers like silk. Traveling it down to his eyes and circling them slowly, feeling ease that I know what it’s like to touch him. To feel his skin beneath my fingers. I scoot my head closer to him, Jungkook’s hold on me tightening. Me and Yoongi aren’t holding each other at all, but I feel like we are, with how close we’ve become. I press my forehead against his and sleep at last, putting my thoughts at ease. Giving myself a break for once. 

MARCH 4TH, 2012, 9:22AM

I wake gently to the lack of Jungkook’s embrace and Yoongi’s breath. The dorm is empty and looks like it’s been rummaged through with the way clothes are scattered all around the floor. I wipe the sleep from my eyes and stretch, before going to the bathroom and brushing my teeth with the spare they have for me. It’s ridiculous, I know, considering my dorm is only across from theirs, but that’s just how thoughtful they are. Or at least Namjoon, the one who got me the toothbrush anyway. I splash some water on my face and pat it down, taking a slow breath as I walk about the dorm. 

Although today, I’m not sure I want to be stuck with my thoughts, all alone. So I throw on another set of whoever’s clothes I see in the closet and slide on my shoes, leaving to go watch the boys as they practice. 

I walk down the halls down to the elevator, humming to myself as It sends me to the bottom. BigHit wasn’t overflowing with money, but they spent it on smart things. Like a working elevator, to avoid having to walk down many stairs. But with how much they want us to diet and exercise, you’d think they’d ban us from taking the elevator. 

The doors part open and I see a group of staff members who give me a warm smile. I respond with one back, feeling a joyous sensation in my heart. It’s nice having it be such a safe space for me here now, and I’m eternally grateful for Bang-PD for doing that. I know other companies would’ve kicked me out for this scandal. But not Bang, he has this unbelievable faith in his idol’s that I’m not sure anyone outside of here could understand.  

I approach the doors of the practice room, peering inside the small window. I see the boys all dancing in unison to what I come to know later as their debut song. It’s a little silly seeing them so focused and driven, bodies sweating and breathing fastening. But I feel proud when I observe them. Maybe I won’t renew my contract. If I stay, they’ll only be tied to my scandal. We’ll have to sit apart during award shows, not hang out in public. Just because of me and what I did. 

I’ll think about that more later. 

Once I see them settle down I open the doors, seeing a beaming Jungkook stand to wrap me in an embrace. 

“Kanako, why are you here?” He exclaims like there’s something wrong. 

We pull apart and I scrunch my eyebrows, “Because I missed you all?”

“Look at her! She was just cuddling up with Yoongi and Jungkook but she still misses us!” Hoseok dramatically falls to the floor with his hand on his head like a damsel in distress. I chuckle, “Okay, okay. I was just lonely. It’s either watch TV or watch you guys.” I gush. 

Like every time, I look for Yoongi but sense his absence. “Where’s Yoongi?” I ask while I dart my eyes around the room. 

“Oh, he’s in the studio. Says he got a surge of inspiration. Wonder what that’s about…” Jimin teases. “You should go visit him, I’m sure he’d like your company.” He adds. 

“Yeah I think he’d like more than that.” Namjoon shakes his head while receiving a shove from Seokjin. Jungkook pouts at me, “Don’t leave yet Kanako, we want to show you our dance.” 

I tilt my head, “Jungkook, I've seen you guys dance plenty of times before. Plus, it’ll be quick. I just want to say hi, okay?” I caress his arm. He slouches and nods in defeat, returning to be sat with the rest of the boys. I give them one last wave, “I’ll be back in a moment!” I say and proceed to walk down the hall, to the right, where the studio is. The studio where I met him. 

It’s also the hallway I’ve avoided these past two weeks. But for Yoongi, I persevere. Looking away from where Haneul had me, like it’s a horrible car crash that I can look away from. I keep my head down like a scolded puppy, and I know I must look weird if anyone were to see me right now. But I try to not get embarrassed from how far I’m willing to go to contain my sanity. 

I reach my hand to give it a couple knocks, hearing Yoongi. 

“Leave me alone, Namjoon.” 

“Uh, it’s Kanako.”

The door swings open, and he stands there with messy hair and his pj’s. 

“Oh, sorry. Namjoon has been trying to get me to practice but-”

“You’ve been working on a song?” I ask, looking over his shoulder to see an opened laptop and scattered notepad paper. He scratches the back of his neck, “Uh- trying to, at least.” He mumbles. 

I walk towards the paper, picking one up before he snatches it from my hand quickly. He shuffles them all together and taps them on the table in place. “It’s not finished, and it’s kind of dumb.” I place my hand over his, “I’m sure it isn't. Can I read, please?” 

He lets me win this time, handing over one piece of paper. “This idea just popped in my head, it-it’s nothing. It probably won’t make it to this album but…” He says quietly. I read the top of the paper that says, in bold letters, Just One Day. 

There’s only a few lines, but I read it attentively. 

If only I had just one day

I want to peacefully fall asleep intoxicated with your sweet scent

If there’s a chance in my busy schedule

I want to put my body in your warm and deep eyes

I like that, your long, straight hair

Your breathtaking neck when you

Put it up and the strands that fall out

This isn’t about me, right? It can’t be. There’s no way he’d write a song about me. Not even Haneul did that, and we dated for ten months. I’ve known Yoongi for a much shorter time span, it’s just-

“It’s about you.” He blurts out. He tightens his lip as if he never intended on saying those words. And a sinking feeling in my chest wishes he didn’t either. We held hands, slept together, nearly kissed, but this was too much for me to bear. It seemed so intimate, I knew the line that I had set had been crossed. But the real question was, is this a line that had never existed in the first place? Was it only to lurk back into the shadows, hiding away from any sort of care or love anyone could have for me ever again?

“I-”

“You don’t have to say anything, Kanako. Just let me be a boy writing a song about a girl. Nothing in between.”

“No one’s ever done this for me before.” I say, feebly. 

He takes my hands, his palms warm and welcoming, “Then let me be the first.” 

Corny, but genuine. 

My eyes carry from his hands to his eyes, giving a disheartened smile. I don’t feel like I’m worth a song. He takes me and sits me down on the rolly chair next to his. He takes the paper from my hands and looks over to the chair behind us, “You were there when we met for the first time.”

I giggle softly, almost embarrassed. “Yes, unfortunately.”

He backs away from me in playful shock, “Unfortunately?” 

I blow a raspberry, “Well I just wish it could’ve been more of a natural meeting. Like a meet-cute.”

“I’m sorry Kanako, but I think that’s as meet-cute as it gets.” 

“You may be right about that.” I laugh, looking back over to the chair. 

I smile to myself warmly, my curiosity getting the best of me. “What is it?” He asks. 

I turn to him again, “What did you think of me when you first met me?”

He leans back in his chair, whispering a slight ‘ahh’ and nodding. His stare moves to the ceiling, thinking for a while. He tightens his mouth in a line again before sucking in his teeth, “Do you want the full truth? Or the I'm-trying-not-to-embarrass myself truth?” He asks. 

I hum, “Both.”

MAY 11TH, 2011, 7:15

I’m sitting on Haneul’s lap in his personal studio. It’s much nicer than the other one, due to the amount of money he seems to flock in with every hit he produces. He’s writing something down as I look around the room, admiring the photographs and paintings he has set up. 

His sets his pen down and wraps his arms around me, looking at me from above.

“Something on your mind, bee?” He asks. I love when he calls me that. He’s created many pet names for me, this one we use as a code name when we’re around other people. It’s like an undercover baby. They all think we’re just a pair of talented people who work well together. 

I nod, “What did you think when you first met me?” 

He smirks and grabs my wrist to place soft kisses up my arm, moving his hand to my chin to pull me down for a kiss. “Well, we were in the conference room when we first met, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.” I whisper. 

He purrs into my mouth, deepening our kiss before pulling away. He has that same smirk, and I wait eagerly for his answer. I knew you were the one. It was love at first sight. I wanted to be around you all the time. You were so funny, Kanako. Your smile felt so warm. I just wanted to-

“-bend you over on that glass table and pound into you.” He whispers in my ear. I sit still while his tongue traces my ear lobe, clueless as to what to say. That’s not what I expected, but it creates a reaction beneath my underwear. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his hand down my shorts, dipping his finger between my lips. I moan quietly from the sudden motion. 

It’s not what I wanted, but it’s what he needs. 

MARCH 4TH, 2012, 10:02AM 

“The half truth is, I liked you. I liked your voice and the way you connected with the music like I did. I thought we were very similar.” He puts it simply. 

I raise my eyebrow amusingly, “And the whole truth?”

He throws his head back and laughs with scarlet cheeks, “It’s uh- dumb.” He settles. 

I tilt my head and pout, taking that move from Taehyung. “Can’t be that bad.” Oh, yes it can. 

“Okay, okay.” He sighs. “I really liked you.” 

I give him a light shove on his shoulder, “Yoongi….”

“Alright, I’ll be serious.”

“Thank you.”

Our eyes lock, “You were so…perfect. Like, obviously I’ve seen you on TV and social media and I knew you were…well, you know. But I felt like I couldn’t even believe that you existed, and that you looked like that, and you were in front of me. I mean, when you asked me to rap on your song, Kanako…I think I died.”

“So you were a fangirl.”

His expression changes, falling flat. “No. I admired you. You were so talented like I thought you’d be, but you exceeded my expectations.” 

I fiddle with his wrist, writing lines along his veins with my fingers. “And when you saw me in the hallway?” I whisper, fearful. 

He removes his hands and uses them to cup my face, “Same thing, Kanako. I was just confused, but I didn’t think of you any different.”

“Really?”

He seems taken aback from my surprise, “I mean, he was my senior. I thought he was a good guy but-”

“But?”

He caresses my cheek with his thumb, “That changed. I wanted to protect you.”

Protect me? Wait-

When a thought pushes to the start of my tongue, I can't help it from rolling off. “Were you the one that told Bang about me and Haneul?” I ask in one single breath. 

click here to read more of this story!

an: it was so fun writing this one! I loved playing around with kanako and yoongi’s dynamic. keep in mind kanako is 18 and yoongi is also supposed to be 18 (i think I did the math right) so they’re kind of evolving as they go due to being teenagers. don’t hate on my girl kanako she’s going through it, truly. also, I had a very different idea for this chapter and ended up deleting all of it because it really did not fit the story. bc probably like most of you reading this, I’m also very inpatient with their love story. this is actually something I wouldn’t have read myself in the past, admittedly, but as I get older I like taking my time with romance, as well as reading slow romance. anyway!

all love! will probably squeeze out another chapter tonight so stay tuned! it is 4:00 pm 10/10/23 as i publish this 🌚

[mariamariquinha]

What's behind...

Well, it's been a while since I wanted to bring this kind of "trivia" about the things I write here.

Music has always been with me as an emotional and life support - basically everything I do involves music. I love it. With my stories, it's no different; each thing takes shape through other stories that the songs I listen to tell or represent. 

Today I start with this small project for my multi-chapter stories, Versos de Placer and Bossa Nova. In the future, when I start writing more, I can keep doing it.

Let’s go, then?

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

Bossa Nova - Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon

Being a minor character in a B-movie of very dubious quality, writing for Benny is always an adventure, but at the same time a great writing exercise tool (for those who like that approach) or even pure and simple creativity. I like to say the benefit of writing for him is having the one and only physical sketch that Maurice Compte brought us, which was awesome because the guy knows how to be pretty as fuck.

ANYWAY

Bossa Nova was planned a little more closely than Versos de Placer, so even the title was chosen from a meticulous perspective of a Brazilian musical rhythm - with meaning. I've already explained this here, so I won't extend myself and go straight to the structure of the story haha

THE DIVORCE: 

The moment that kicks off the whole story is the main character's divorce. There was a past and an established relationship between everyone, but the trigger for everything we've been doing since then comes from that moment of separation.

The reader and Theo, her ex-husband, had a crisis through cheating. Therefore, this plot was thought with a song in mind:

DREAMS - FLEETWOOD MAC

I think it's common sense that the Fleetwood Mac drama yielded that impeccable album called Rumors and ‘Dreams’ is my favorite song by far - theirs, of course, because there's so much fucking artistic pain in there.

--

Now here you go again, you say you want your freedom Well, who am I to keep you down?

--

Players only love you when they're playing

--

Theodore was the antagonist due to a classic but no less painful situation, which opened wounds that the reader disassociates, but that she feels. Parents don't know about suffering; the brother, limited to a minuscule fraction of the divorce bureaucracy. She knows that, deep down, Theo became empty and selfish enough to find what he wanted, when he wanted it, no matter what it could cost him, and hopes that he will be frustrated in the end (overcoming? I don't know her). ‘Dreams’, for me, is the biggest representation of someone mourning towards a person they loved but couldn’t have because, in the end, this someone choose to be with another someone. Tell them, Stevie. Tell them! 

FEMALE ENERGY PART. 2 - WILLOW

BEING HERSELF AGAIN:

In another, slightly older post, I mentioned how I constructed father-daughter relationships differently in my two "biggest" stories, and that applies a lot with this aspect in particular. In both cases, I explored something that is personal to me, which is my relationship with the men I live with in life - I work in a predominantly male place, a father who is present but a difficult family history in this regard. Here, I think it's important to use such relationships to demystify the woman built under what she lives with a man.

The Bossa Nova reader is not as close to her mother as she is to her father; this dynamic will often interfere with her future relationships, from what to expect from a man to living with other women. When she loses Theodore, she finds herself alone. The father would not understand her like the mother, but how to talk to this figure who has always been partially distant?

--

Oh, and I'm falling into the arms of naked truth Not surprised to see the sky and know what I must do

--

I am human, I am woman Drifting down my life

--

The changes she has been going through include facing her own nature and looking for all the personality hidden in a failed relationship. We still have a lot to explore here, but I value that heartfelt, honest parallel as we build a background romantic drama.

BILLIE BOSSA NOVA - BILLIE EILISH

THE FIRST DATE:

Oh yeah, yeah, I’ll be the devil’s advocate here and give credit to a white girlie using a latin rythym to make money. SORRY. The song is a banger tho, I like Billie. 

That’s basically the beggining (where we are now btw) of Benny and reader’s relationship. No one wants to prove anything or have high expectations - it came naturally and they linked right away. A few drinks, a kiss below a lamp post, a football game and sex. Everyone could do that. Makes sense for me. 

--

'Cause waitin' for it gets so borin' A lot can change in twenty seconds A lot can happen in the dark

--

I'm not sentimental But there's somethin' 'bout the way you look tonight, mm Makes me wanna take a picture Make a movie with you that we'd have to hide

--

For me it’s the basics of: hey, found you really attractive, let’s fuck. In a way, they both don’t want complications and happens that Benny and reader can provide that to each other. I wouldn’t say they are 100% in tune, but they both agree that they should do what they should because there’s nothing better than a few orgasms. 

FADE INTO YOU - MAZZY STAR

THE FIRST TIME:

This song was mentioned in the last chapter of Bossa Nova and it wasn’t just because. 

--

I look to you and I see nothing I look to you to see the truth

--

Some kind of night into your darkness Colors your eyes with what's not there

--

I think that's something we'll explore in the future, but there was a reason Benny was wary of the reader in her house and genuinely indulged in lying on the floor with her to relax. I hate being that playful type of person who puts metaphors into everything because sometimes life is life, but they both knew it wasn't going to be, generally speaking, a grab and go thing. It's the beginning of opposition to what they think will be that 'convenient meeting', even if they don't know it yet. She knew him, but she didn't know who he was; the same happens with Benny. In the living room, the two of them are discovering themselves and understanding that to get where they wanted, they would have to find a balance point, something that would erase a more difficult reality for a moment of satisfaction.

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

P.S.

It's a little early to bring more of this, we have a way to go, but I think it's worth sharing this kind of creative dynamic to help set a good narrative tone and involve those who follow the story. 

I want to take this opportunity and thank everyone who has been giving me this strength here, as well as congratulating all the fanfic writers who keep sharing incredible stories with dedication and affection. You are amazing! ❤

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

No pressure tags: 

@cheesybadgers

@thesandbeneathmytoes​

@nerdyreaderpapi

@thoroughlymodernminutia​

@the-hinky-panda​

@mysoulisasunflower​

[real-reulbbr-band]

For the flower ship asks thing, (you dont have to all of them I just wanted to give you a choose lmao)

Dahlia & Rose : MistoJerrie

Water lily & Sunflower : TantoDemeter

Daisy & Bluebell : AlonzoTeazer

Ooo variety thank you

Mistojerrie

Rose ; Who's more romantic?

Generally? It’s sort of 50/50 since they have different love languages.

Mungo loves finding (and stealing) gifts to impress Mistoffelees with and taking him to places around town he hasn’t been to before. 

Whereas Mistoffelees is a little more casual, sure he’ll do some tricks for mungo whenever he asks but sometimes (mostly on occasions like anniversaries) misto will try to surprise him. Most of the time Misto is more of a words of affirmations type though.

If you’re asking who’s more flirtatious then 100% mungo cheesy pick up lines but some generally sweet ones too. 

more below

Dahlia ; Do they keep secrets from each other?

Hmmm

I can see Misto unintentionally keeping secrets from mungo, Misto likes to keep his personal things to himself generally so near the start of their relationship he isn’t exactly used to opening up to someone that isn’t victoria. Over time however he does learn to trust and speak to Mungojerrie more.

However In a very specific scenario Misto seems like he’d keep mungo out of the loop on certain situations until they’re over and done with. He just doesn’t want to trouble him.

When it comes to Macavity- yea mungo keeps a lot of secrets, like Misto it’s more instinctive (at least at first) he doesn’t really talk about Macavity with anyone who wasn’t there with him and prefers to leave his past in the past. 

However if Misto tries to bring up the topic Mungo tends to shut down the conversation or just down play whatever had occurred if he went to see Mac recently. (if he even admits he did). 

It’s complicated, keeping secrets from each other is a habit they both grow out of the longer they’re together but it’s never truly done with malicious intent.

Tantometer

Water Lily ; Which one cares about their appearance more? Ooooo tough one

Tantomile (before they got together at least) really wanted to impress Demeter, and make a strong impression. But that’s a tad bit difficult when you have an identical twin. 

So Tant may or may not have asked Bombalurina for advice…which she was more then happy to give ofc. (Which is why tant has red lipstick) 

Dem ofc doesn't care about appearances of others that much, but Tantomile did develop a bit of a liking to pampering which eventually did get to dem. 

It became less about them wanting to have great appearances all the time and more about some morning self care (I don’t know if cats actually have makeup but like 2019 has a bunch of cats drinking milk even though they’re lactose intolerant so logic doesn’t matter) anyways they have some morning routine pampering together along with self care dates. So equal amount. 

Sunflower ; Which one would go to jail for the other?

I want to say Tantomile but Demeter will literally commit a felony and go against anyone for someone she loves (cough cough jumping fake deut). So purely because girl is the right amount of unhinged Demeter. 

Alonzoteazer

Daisy ; Which one sings while doing chores? Are they good at it?

Oooooo

Alonzo does, and fairly well but only when he thinks he’s alone and then when Rump catches him and ofc teases him about it he acts like he doesn’t know what she’s talking about until she eventually moves on.

Rump sings loud and proud, cats from outside the den could probably hear. It’s mostly nonsense she made up on the spot or related to whatever chore she’s doing. Alonzo appears neutral but he genuinely enjoys it, sometimes he’ll even hum teazers silly songs while on patrol.

Teazer tried singing a lullaby to him once it was bad but hey it cheered him up

Bluebell ; Who's more emotional?

Hmmmmmm

They’re both fairly emotional, Alonzo tries to toughen up sometimes but that crumbles quite quickly. 

As for Rump 90% of the time she’s an open book. 

I don’t have much more to say….just Alonzo finds himself opening up to Teazer quite easily since she’s good company.

[thesoundofmadness]

I'm the anon who asked abt the Randyverse. I actually meant all of the Randy aus you have interacting with each other. Reading the ones you already have are so fun, and I feel like there should be more heh

Tumblr is being stupid and isn't letting me seperate the bullet points. OH SORRY I WAS CONFUSED WHKSJFBKJFB I HAVE A BUNCH OF HCS FOR THIS I don't really know of a genuine plot tho like the only thing I have for an actual plot is just. viceory builds an alternate universe thing and randy/howard fall through it and go through a bunch of aus while back in their og universe the sorcerer escapes. the 3 main aus i got is the og universe, the teacher randy au and band au tbh. Oh shit in the last ask i forgot about the immortal randy au jkghfdjkg. Anyway here's some bs

--

The nomicon (doesn't matter the au) has NO fuckin clue what's going on. It can't grasp the whole alternate universe thing at ALL. Guide Randy steps in it's place tho

OG Randy like, immediately assumes Guide Randy is evil. OG Randy: Oh don't tell me you're another McFist scheme like Lucious O'Thunderpunch. Guide Randy: *shocked gasp* Excuse me. How dare you compare me to him!

OG Randy also says Guide Randy might go crazy "like Mac Antfee", and Guide Randy just laughs and says "Mac Antfee WISHES he was me."

The og/swap randy and howard use their slang and guide Randy/Howard are just like "please. please just say fuck you can say fuck". That day OG Howard learned his parents were lying about cursing being illegal till you're 18.

I imagine since like, the alternate universes are colliding so they can get SOME access to other alternate universes before they actually visit it. They can also somewhat share thoughts and feelings between their alternate counterparts. (Like if OG Randy gets sick, Guide/Band Randy will feel it too and vice versa)

So like, before they can meet their band au counterparts, RESENTMENTS fully releases. OG/Swap Randy and Howard can't really understand it, but Guide Randy and Howard IMMEDIATELY clues into it being about the ninja. They have a lil debate about the possiblity of band randy not mind wiping, then "i hate books lol" (a song howard wrote about the nomicon and the stress of his trauma) comes on and Guide Howard is just ".....oh fuck."

they get to the band au, and band randy is kinda. forced into like getting the mind wipe undone and he. does not take it well. He end's up like, spending a few days in a hotel to process it bc he doesn't want to have a huge argument with Howard about it.

OG Randy probably assumes band Howard is evil but band howard is just like "why the hell would i want to reveal the ninja secrets? i may be a dumbass but i'm not a fucking idiot."

Band Levander is just there tbh. They can't really avoid not getting him involved in the alternate universe shenanigans bc the band bros all live together. but he's chill about it and just there for emotional support.

Levander is very surprised by Randy being the ninja and the whole 4 year cycle thing, but then he's like "holy shit that makes so much sense actually."

the band bros probably have the og/swap bros help set up for a music video recording. they have like at least $50K worth of camera and audio equipment. Band randy is like "....In the nicest way possible, if you break ANY of this, i'm disowning you :)"

I hc that the art of the disguise can also change your voice by like, altering your vocal cords for a bit. When Guide Randy says this Band Randy (who does A LOT of voice training) is fucking APPALLED.

Band Howard: one time you shot me into space. on my 15th birthday. that was fun Band Lavender: Randy did what Guide: oh yeah i remember that. I... was not the smartest person in 9th grade. Band Randy: I did WHAT? I thought that was just some weird dream! OG Randy:.... in my defense, it was an accident Band Lavender: what the FUCK do you mean you shot Howard into space by ACCIDENT.

OG Howard asks Band Randy (who does all the art/video/design work for 30STM) about how his work is going and Band Randy starts ranting about color theory for like 15 minutes

yeah that's all i got lmao uts 2 am