#this conversation was a bit ago she just started season 2 I am so excited

[spacetimeaccordionfolder]

me: so what do you want to watch tonight?

my sister: eh something fun and with not too much plot or angst. How about that How to Train Your Dragon tv show you talk about? Race to the Edge, right?

me, vibrating with excitement: yeah that sounds good

[m34gs]

For the fanfic ask game: 4, 7, 8, 13, 27!

Thank you for the ask, friend! I am very excited to answer now that I am feeling better!💜💜 (from this post)

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet

I have...SO MANY. You have no idea. I even cleaned up my folders, and somehow I ended up with MOre??? I'm truly hopeless. This brain doesn't rest. So, I think I'll indulge myself and talk about more than just one :)

Rin is Human: a Blue Exorcist au where Rin is the only human in a school of monsters (I am a sucker for this kind of plot/setting)

Four Brothers: I want to write a really serious Blue Exorcist fic in an AU where none of them are demons or exorcists, where an overworked Mephisto and a heartbroken Amaimon have to suddenly raise their 16 year old brothers Rin and Yukio after Shiro's untimely death. It will be an angsty feast (but I promise no one aside from Shiro dies).

Teach Me to Play: Twisted Wonderland Kalim/Idia fic where Kalim stumbles across the board game club meeting one day and becomes enamored by how expressive Idia is when playing; and subsequently begs Idia to teach him video games and board games so that he can continue seeing those expressions.

Octavinelle wants Trey's baking: for this one I am going to share the notes I have thus far because I feel you'll appreciate them. This is based on one of our many many conversations:

Azul wants Trey’s cooking in his kitchen; he keeps trying to get Trey over there working for him. Trey is confused and also a little nervous that Octavinelle has such an interest in him. Riddle wants to know why the fuck the Octotrio are trying to steal his vice housewarden. Cater is ugly-crying in the corner and eating ice cream straight from the tub because he thinks his boyfriend is gonna get eaten by the fish mafia. Ace and Deuce make Cater’s crying worse.

7. your preferred writing fonts

Times New Roman. Why? Because it's what I'm used to. Yeah, now the default font in Word is calibri and I've gotten used to it, but a long time ago it was Times New Roman and let me tell you, I used to write so much on my family's computer that it became a comfort for me to see (my sister and I both used to take turns writing and we would write for hours and hours; and my mother never denied us our writing time as long as chores and homework were done because she was happy we were being creative and also not getting into trouble). It's a bit nostalgic and it looks right to me. Though, Calibri has grown on me and if I had to choose a second, I would choose that one.

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

This is so hard. Honestly, if I'm going to write a sequel I usually have it planned before the first fic is done. So, unless it's for one of our ongoing aus (Bar and Saw) or a fic that I've already started writing a sequel for, I don't think that I really would...

But in the spirit of the question, if I *had* to choose, I might write a sequel to If I Lay Here, my Haikyuu!! Shizumo/Yachi fic for whumptober 2023. In the fic, I left off with the girls deciding to run away after Yachi's mother disapproved of their relationship. If I were to do a sequel, it would probably be a snapshot of their time finding themselves and setting themselves up in their new life together.

13. a fandom you’re thinking about writing for

I, too, am thinking of writing for Link Click. Honestly, it's so good. I don't know if I'll wait for Season 3 before I start, it depends on what I want to write and how Season 2 goes (I'll probably decide once I finish watching S2, honestly, but since I do a lotta writing in AUs, I could easily see myself writing for the fandom before S3). I also am sorely tempted to write for Hakata Tonkotsu Ramens, but I'm less confident in that my grasp of the characters in that one, so it might be a while before I venture there.

27. your favorite part of the writing process

I have many favourite parts! One of them is the planning process! I love thinking about an idea and rotating it in my mind until I have a shiny little plot outline :D

[nightcall99]

Dreams from 19.7.24

Dream 1: I was in a classroom and sitting at a desk with ED (a co-worker/friend from 5 years ago). We got along really well, we were chatting and mucking around as class was happening. We had one of those puzzle and game books and were working through the pages to pass the time. One of the most satisfying games was a matching-the-clue-to-a-word game and eventually the words we guess right would spell a sentence. I found it quite fun, but mostly because I was with ED. We talked to the students around us and as they did other things. There didn't seem to be any teacher around. I started talking to a girl about how I thought I was neurodivergent. I said, I think I have autism, when I'm masked I'm normal and you can't even tell because I'm very polite but without the mask I can unintentionally come across as rude and abrasive. ED joined the conversation and said, Me too, that's me as well. I then tried to tell her, Omg that's autism! Are you also sensitive to light and noise? She wasn't. I got excited because I wanted to label her so we could have more in common or some misplaced sense of 'help' where I thought it would benefit her to be aware of it. But I realised it was pointless and not supposed to be part of her experience, so I dropped it.

Then some guy in the class wanted the puzzle book for himself but we refused to give it to him. Some other girl was speaking on his behalf and kept trying to get to us to hand it over. I said, Why doesn't he go to the shop and buy himself one? She said, Because it's like $50 (I think because now it's a rare/old edition) and he can't afford that. After some fighting the guy ended up taking the book off of us. I didn't understand what he was in it for him since we had already filled out all the puzzles so it's not even going to be fun for him. What was the point? I saw him leaf through the pages. Then we had to move to a different classroom and I entered it alone and chose a place to sit down, thinking that when ED caught up she would sit next to me. But she was already on the other side of the room and told me to come over there.

Dream 2: I was in a house and there was a big gathering of family and friends (no one I recognised). We were celebrating something, maybe it was Christmas. Some kid walked in who I recognised as the actor who plays Luke in Modern Family. He looked like he was in his early teens and then when I blinked, I saw him running around the room looking like he was only 8 years old (just like in the earlier seasons). I said to his friend, Did I see that right? The friend said, Yeah he does that sometimes. When I looked at Luke again, he now looked like a teen and then as he was walking away, back to the 8 year old. He didn't say anything to me, he seemed to think it was funny that he could change forms. Other than that, I remember I was interacting with heaps of people which is unlike me irl. I was really happy to engage with everyone and it was like I was a bit manic, or at least just feeling very free to be myself and soak up the good energy. I seemed to know everyone and everyone I came across, I got along with them easily. The energy was very exciting and suspenseful.

Then in the next scene I am walking the streets of the city on my own, when just before I had been with a great many people. It felt like New Year's Eve. I had on a beautiful shin-length party dress and high heels and I felt great. My feet weren't even hurting, in fact I was barely conscious of even having a body. I knew that it was about 11:20pm, so only around 40 minutes left of the year. While I walked, I suddenly thought about the TG chat and were you guys all were. The feeling was I had been with you guys, but you had moved on to another place or scattered and I wanted to find you guys again. Mort replied to me. I don't know what he said but the energy was like we were old friends. In fact, the feeling that pervaded this part of the dream was exactly the feeling of the three of us chatting last night which happened at around 11:20pm too. Subconsciously, it felt like I was 'waiting' for Mort's birthday (even though consciously I did not care), just like I was waiting for midnight in this dream. There was an excitement that nobody knows what to with, and it's only just registering.

As I walked through the city streets, I came across my mother and her friends. She said something low-vibe in Vietnamese, probably shit about me, but I didn't care, I didn't stop. I continued on. Then my father messaged me saying the nursing home tried to get into contact with him and he didn't know why. In the dream, I had tried to get into contact with them a long time ago asking advice about a particular health problem but they were only just now replying. The message they sent him (instead of to me) was referring to him like wasn't even there or sound of mind/able-bodied, like he was a resident of the nursing home, when he isn't. I kept wondering where everyone was.

Dream 3: I was at work in the back area and a big white fluffy dog came up to me. I was highly affectionate toward it and I was so excited to see it. I was saying cutesy stuff to it and another co-worker who was there too watched me and smiled.

Dream 4: I was in somebody else's body and I had just realised. It was a female body. I felt how it was to have someone else's genitalia which disgusted me for a millisecond but mostly I was just shocked to realise I had a human body at all. It's like I hadn't realised I was in a body but I began to recognise that it had been me all along. I then came to realise that I had in fact swapped bodies with anyone at all, it's that I had gone through life unaware of having a body and the strange feeling overtook me just now. It think this dream is about me perceiving the NPC body as foreign.

[winderlylandchime]

Hello, how are you? I hope life is going good and that you are spending your Saturday relaxing. I am coming to you with just a tiny update on my brother as a proof of life but also because it made me laugh when it happened and I thought maybe you’d appreciate it since you are the one who told him ao3 has a lot of shows he’s a fan of…I feel like a snitch right now but he discovered 2 things about ao3 by complete accident. And that is omega verse and that some people write incest fics.. I got a text that just read ‘werewolf porn?!?!’ So that was a nice way to start my day. And then like two hours later he found out some people write about incest and I’m not gonna lie it took me a minute to convince him to continue using ao3. When I called him about it he said that he wanted to look into the other stuff he’s a fan of aince he remembered you told him so and he unfortunately discovered a dark side of it. So now he swore to himself that he’s only going to use ao3 for Britin. BUT he did also discover like a true grandpa with no social media presence that he got replies on his comments from you and Hannah Montana (his words, he only refers to them as that and I’m supposed to just know who he’s talking about) and he was very delighted because he didn’t realize it at all and then horrified that he didn’t realize it. He also got really mad when he realized you can’t leave kudos on each chapter which tbh, I fully agree. He’s genuinely still confused by ao3, It’s kinda like watching someone who is 60 try to use instagram or something like that. And then on top of that a few days ago he told me that he is worried that his love for qaf has died down since he hasn’t seen the show since he left and can’t watch it with the original soundtrack. And he was genuinely worried about that and then today at an ungodly hour I got a call saying ‘YOOOOOO BLONDIE WAS IN MR ROBOT!’ I don’t think he was even fully sober or even awake when he called me for that. Turns out he was at his friends house and his friend’s girlfriend had Mr Robot on and then she just left it playing while everyone hung out. And then Randy showed up on the screen and my brother -mid conversation with a friends new girlfriend who literally met him that day!!!- yelled across the entire apartment from the kitchen ‘BLONDIEEEEE’ and then apparently he proceeded to talk about qaf to the poor woman. I’m talking full breakdown, story lines, characters, actors, the fact that season 5 (and I quote) ‘sucks hardcore ass’…. So he got excited and happy to report to me that the love (and hyperfixation if we are being honest) is still very much alive. As if HE, the owner of many self made shirts, could somehow manage to escape it…And if you were wondering, yes he was wearing his Brian shirt during the party so I don’t know how he thought he was over his love for the show. Btw he was telling me about a fic of yours he was reading and he went ‘you don’t get it, they’re doing therapy together…Fuck I can’t believe real life Blondie is gonna be doing shit like this for a living now’ and that gave me a mini wtf moment because I completely forgot about Randy’s new career. So bottom line is: he is now scared to look up any shows he likes, he got a bit scarred because he didn’t read tags/doesn’t understand them AND he still talks about everyone’s fics the same way he did when he was living with me. Aka he just starts talking about it without any context or titles or links.

Dear sweet anon! I’m so sorry it’s taken ages to respond.

Oh sweet summer child brother anon! Yes, omegaverse and incest porn are on AO3… as he commits to using it only for Britin fics, warn him (or don’t!) about mpreg fics. Sooooo many pregnant!Justin fics out there and at least one pregnant!Brian fic that I can think of. All the wonderfully horrific fics on AO3 are exactly why I love it. Banning incest fics is a slippery slope to making any explicit content, especially queer explicit content (and all queer content is explicit to bigots).

I feel the anger about not being able to leave kudos on each chapter. And I also fully feel the excitement and joy of getting a response to a comment. Reminds me that I need to go respond to his comments!

I didn’t realize that one Mr. Randolph Harrison was in Mr. Robot, but there it is on his IMDb page!

Haha I’m only halfway sorry I put Justin in therapy so often in my fics because now Randy is on the other side of the couch!

I’m so glad his enthusiasm only temporarily died down. Unfortunately, it looks like you need to copy your DVDs for him because I got an ask a few days ago asking for resources to watch the series with the original (only correct) soundtrack and the fandom agrees that it’s no where to be found.

[chemicalblonde]

I rolled out of bed at 3 in the afternoon. 3 weeks ago I left my 9-5 job. The pay, the title, and the sound of it all looked good on paper, but I couldn't bare the unhappiness one more second. While working my flower gig on Mother's Day, I ran into my old boss. It was a picture-perfect scene - I was smiling alongside the owners, beaming ear to ear when I greeted her. In our last conversations, my former boss brought up the fact that she witnessed my struggle with being overwhelmed - so I knew this was a monumental moment.

You have to understand one thing, I have acknowledged that people possess many layers that include faults and wonderful gifts - so to say that she is evil would be untrue. She is a human navigating her own life, as I am mine. Hours later, after enjoying brunch with her family, she returned and I built her a bouquet. We hugged, wished each other well, and continued to go our separate ways.

I don't think about that job anymore and I'm not kept up passed the witching hour tossing and turning with grief and dread about interacting with her either. I don't regret leaving. I have found so much peace in doing so.

I made it to my pottery class 3 hours later and worked alongside 3 other girls who just wanted to get a course under their belt. Or possibly to do something on a Tuesday night that broke their routine. I destroyed 2 of the 3 pots we made. However, I did not feel defeated nor did I feel angry about wasting the money I spent to be there. I think I'll keep trying, and it's okay that I'm not perfect for my first attempt at ceramics since high school.

On my way home, I was stuck in heavy traffic. So I called my brother to inform him of the horrific death of our family friend that happened over the weekend. I have been keeping it inside because sharing this kind of story is sad, and not fair to share with others who aren't attached to this person. I felt relief in our conversation, I no longer had to hold that in.

After I got home, I scarfed down bits of dinner, ran a load of laundry, and decided to go for my nightly walk (I've been walking every night for a few days in a row now and I want to keep it up). I felt lighter. I felt a release of worry, I release of guilt or pressure to figure it out right now. I am happy that I am returning to my core, to my stable self. It's nice to be back. Maybe I do need to pursue a life in yoga training. Maybe I should. I can't think of other vocations that bring me to this kind of clarity. I am beginning to explore parts of myself that I enjoy.

Shayla and I have been indulging ourselves in this therapy show as of late. We stay up crying and psychoanalyzing. But tonight's season finale resonated with me. There was this insufferable woman who would incessantly gripe about her husband and his lack of value. Turns out, this woman was deeply anxious and loved him dearly. Her therapist asked, "What would life look like without your anxiety"? And she began to explain how she wanted to travel to places where there were dangers and uncertainty. That hit home a little too hard. I think of my past relationships and how my anxiety got in the way, how my control was suffocating, and my expectations for myself were projected onto my partners that resulted in feeling unheard or unappreciated by them. Much to chew on.

Shayla is thinking of possibly pursuing a job outside of Texas, which would mean our time living in this beautiful home is now on a countdown. I am sitting in this. It is not new information, but I was just getting comfortable with the idea of staying here long-term. But this is okay too because I would like to leave and explore the world now. It's time. I can pack my things and head to the west coast to be with my brother. I can create new memories with him and his small family like he dreams of...and I dream of too.

It's now 30 minutes until 3 and I should start winding down. I am overwhelmed with such joy and excitement about the newness ahead. May I continue to believe in the universe and all of its blessings.

[helpinghanikan]

Steven Grant: like you better

Sum: Only a few hours inside his head and Steven has managed to annoy Marc into making a pit stop before reaching Egypt. But maybe Marc isn't as bad as they both think.

AN: Finished the season and couldn't wait to write another bit for Steven Grant. Can't wait for season 2, can't wait for more.

So far Steven had kept his word of refusing Marc peace. For the past several hours Steven has been in every reflection, every shiny object and every quiet moment Marc came across. Granted, this had only been three hours or so, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

Steven glares at Marc now. Showing in the turned off TV screen behind the airport service desk. Being kind enough to not say anything while the lady set up Marc’s ticket for the next day.

“With how easy you leave Layla I’d assume you be good at getting flights.” Steven spat, now showing in the window Marc had sat down next to.

Marc laughs, “that you think it’s easy shows just much you get.”

“Oh, I get plenty.” Steven continues. “I get that you don’t deserve a wife; you don’t deserve any woman. Anyone.”

Hours and hours of this had finally sunk deep into Marc’s skin. His anger wasn’t coming out as sudden violence anymore, it had become calculated and mean. It turned his head towards the window and stared right back at Steven.

“And you do?” He asks with a tilt of the head.

Steven is quiet for a second. “What are you talking about?”

Marc snorts through his nose. Sliding his (Steven’s really) phone from his front pocket. Your number was in the few contacts Steven had entered. The last conversation was only two days ago; when you texted and asked how the well-done steak was.

Steven can see what Marc was opening up. “We’re not anything, she’s not…she’s just a friend, Marc. She doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Then there’s no problem, right?” Marc asks and started texting.

----

When asked about Steven you were honest; he was someone you vaguely knew. A sweet smile at the museum when you visit, A lovely goodbye when you head out, and a sad person who just needed a shoulder at a steak house.

That night had been your longest conversation. Starting when you asked if he was okay, continuing when he asked if you wanted to join, and ending when you told him he’d like steak medium-rare over well-done. To call it a date would have been a stretch, but there was something there.

That something came back when Marc sent you a message.

‘busy?’

You obviously weren’t based on how quickly you texted back confirming this.

‘can I come over? There’s stuff I want to talk about.’ Marc sent in reply, already in the cab.

‘of course, you have my address?’ You reply. Quickly followed by your address before Marc could say whether he did or not.

You were only twenty minutes away. Long enough for Steven to make a bigger hissy fit about you. Continuing to emphasize that you weren’t anything to him, you weren’t involved, blah blah blah. When he finally shut up it was when you opened the door with a smile.

“Steven,” You said softly, as if you hadn’t seen him in years.

It had been a crazy couple of weeks with Steven. When was the last time he got any time with you? Once or twice when you had stopped in to say hi, but Steven wasn’t exactly the most attentive. Not that Steven wasn’t forcing a fast heartbeat when he saw you open the door.

“Hey,” Marc says, willing Steven away. “Am I interrupting?”

“If you were I wouldn’t have let you come over. Come in before the neighbors start talking.” You say, gesturing into your place with a dramatic arm.

“Marc, please don’t hurt her. Please.” Steven says from the black screen of your TV.

“I like the new accent. Just for me?” You asked, in the matching shirt and shorts from bedtime, waiting for him to say something.

“No, actually,” Marc started. “I’m leaving pretty soon.”

“So new voice for new place? I get it. Where are you going?” You ask.

Marc looks at the TV, Steven is staring intently.

“Egypt, heading out tomorrow.”

“Egypt, nice. Are you excited?”

“Not really,” Marc confesses, looking back to Steven “I just needed to talk to you before I go.”

Steven is shaking his head is disappointment. This stupid alter taking it upon himself to judge Marc. When Steven wasn’t even real, not like he was. Not like you were right now. Yet you were still looking for Steven, not Marc.

“Is it about the steak house? And that date you promised?” You asked and Marc looked away from Steven. “I’m more than willing to wait to cash it in-.”

Marc interrupts you with a kiss, his hands taking yours in an intimate gesture he hadn’t intended.

“Fucker”

Marc was many things; a liar, a murderer, thief and even a punk, but he wasn’t a monster. When the kiss quickly became more than a press he let you take the lead. Taking hold of his shirt and pulling him closer until all he could do was wrap his arms around you.

“Hey, hey,” Marc says, interrupting again. “Do you want to? Do you want this?”

You smile but don’t look away from his lips. Laughing with heavy breathe before replying; “Yes, yes Steven I wanna fuck.”

Steven has always been an interesting guy. It was just one of the things that made him so appealing. The he could lift you with barely a grunt was entirely new.

Being lifted without warning is a scary thing. The equivalent of an unexpected drop on a roller coaster. Holding Steven tight out of the sudden fear, face pressed into his shoulder, while being carried to the bed.

“She has nothing to do with us or anything.” Actual Steven says from the reflection of your bedroom window.

Marc was never this fast with Layla. You’ve barely settled on the bed when he’s on you. Kissing so fast and hard that your teeth clang together. It hurts enough that you pull away, a hand to your mouth that Marc takes and kisses. His mouth pressed into the palm of your hand, eyes closed, as you watch and raise an eyebrow.

“Are you okay?” You ask and Marc opens his eyes.

The simple answer was no. He hasn’t been okay since Khonsu showed his stupid bird face. Event before that he wasn’t okay. Even on the day he said “I Do” to Layla he had been feeling a bit off. Last time he was okay could probably be traced back to Randall, but those weren’t memories to think about.

The man above you appeared to be too deep in thought to do anything else. Your hand still pressed to his mouth. Completely unmoving for the last few seconds, save for a blink.

Taking advantage of his defocus you put an arm around his back. Using your entire weight to roll the two of you over. Now on top he seems to come back to himself. Be it ignorance or an urge to be the dominate he sits all the way up. His own arm grabbing your hips and back to keep you pressed chest to chest.

“Steven?” You ask, hands on his face.

“Please don’t let her think I’m like this. Please.” Actual Steven asks from the window.

There’s no argument that he is a handsome man. Without light his normally brown eyes become a starless night. A naturally tired face that you smooth your thumbs over in appreciation. Massaging his cheek bones, running over his eyebrows, and kissing between them. He looks up at you slightly with an expression that can only be described as desperate, adorable, and wanting.

“You’re so handsome,” You say, hand gently sliding through his hair.

“She thinks I’m handsome? Really?” The actual Steven asks.

Revenge had never been Marc’s style. Outside of sudden rage at a situation he’s never really planned anything out. Even now, sleeping with his alters crush, wasn’t like him. Maybe it was the jealousy of Steven’s innocence that created this, or how long it’s been since he could have Layla, or…

Marc looks over to the window. Where Steven isn’t looking at Marc anymore. He’s looking at you, he’s smiling at you with a hand placed on the glass. Marc had looked at Layla the same way. Suddenly this wasn’t nothing but revenge. Suddenly Marc understood consequences, and he understood Steven enough to make a very stupid decision.

Steven is allowed control while your hands still hold his face. It only takes a second that you’re not sure actually happened. His eyes losing their luster and head tilting back slightly before coming back to position.

Steven takes a shaky breath, smiling at you. His head leaning into your hands while you still rub and scratch at his scalp.

“Thank you,” He says, voice different but not worth mentioning consider how stressed he likely was.

“Your welcome, beautiful.” You say.

Although the thankyou was directed at him Marc doesn’t say ‘you’re welcome’, Nor does he even really acknowledge that he did anything worth thanks. Instead he just looks down at his feet that aren’t really there.

Steven’s kisses are now slower, messier, like he trying to taste and savor your lips. He slides his hands up and down your back, stopping just before your backside and never giving the hint of going under your sleep shirt.

You were not so patient. Immediately going for his shirt hem and tugging at it until he got the hint and lifted his arms. The shirt coming off and tossed away before Steven can say the thank you he was thinking. Not that you cared about that, too focused on the body before you, hands following the bumps and crevasses his abs and muscles create over the torso.

“You hid this from me for too long, Steven.” You say, sliding both hands up his stomach, over his pectorals and back down.

“They kinda snuck up on me, too.” Steven says, only recently understanding why he was in good shape without ever so much as jogging. “I’m glad you like-Oh!”

He makes the cutes squeak when you lightly bite on his right pectoral. Pushing forward for his to lay flat so you can lick over his chest. Flattening your tongue down and over his nipple. Kissing over to the other side and doing the same.

Words aren’t going to happen for Steven while you do this. It’s amazing that he still breathe as you kiss his torso and grind against his bulge at the same time. While there is no rhythm to be had he strains his neck to watch you do this trick, amazed at your multitasking skills.

He has an open mouth, flushed cheek, face when you crawl back up his body. Sitting just above his cock and go about unbuttoning your shirt. A sadistic part of you goes slower than either of you would like. Refusing to left the fabric open enough to show anything but the slightest peak of breasts until you got every button open.

“Touch me,” You order, pulling open the shirt and letting it fall behind you onto Steven’s legs.

Steven doesn’t do as you say. Staring at your breasts that moving perfectly with each breath you took. Not to toss the blame but you didn’t make it easier by bringing your arms together in front of you, pressing your breasts in a way Steven could only ever dream about.

“Steven?” You ask, as if you weren’t the distraction keeping Steven busy.

“What? Yes, right!” Steven says, surprisingly going for your waist rather than the obvious.

Leaning down to kiss Steven slides around your back. Squeeze the softness of your hips, thigh, and covered backside. All that skin-to-skin contact and his hands are still cold when he makes it past your shorts. Squeezing both of your cheeks surprisingly hard. Hard enough that you moaned into Steven’s mouth.

Steven appeared to be a man who liked to map out the things he liked. Whether it’s reading his Egyptian books cover to cover to get every fact he could or chewing his steak until the already over cooked meat tasted nothing like a steak. He did the same now with your backside. Squeezing and massaging them until you were almost numb,. Feeling down the roundness to the back of your thighs and back up twice.

Eventually his inspection became too much. Forcing you to take things into your own hands and using your thumbs to pull your shorts down past your ass. Steven not taking the hint to move on and instead took advantage of the view you created.

You giggled when Steven pulled you closer until your head rested over your shoulder. Giving him the ability to look over your back and see the jiggling effect his hands have on your ass. Although he didn’t spank you he did give a little slap, just enough to see what would happen.

“You know I’m gonna do the same to your ass whatever you do to mine,” You whisper in his ear. Already thinking about the opened mouth gasp he’d make when full of a strap.

Your voice was enough for Steven to break the hypnotism.

“I’m sorry, Dear, It’s just…” He says, looking for words while you kiss his cheek. “your arse is a dream.”

“Wait until you get the rest of me.” You say, having to fight him a bit to sit back up and move down his body.

It takes Steven a moment to understand what you were doing. It finally clicking when his fly is opened, and you start shimming down his pants. The most he helps is lifting his hips for his pants and underwear to be completely removed. His cock already hard and practically dripping when you get your hands on it.

Precum used as lubricant you only get in two pumps and the placing of condom before Steven stops you. Sitting all the way up and putting a handout to stop you before it’s too late.

“Not yet. Not Yet.” He says, a hand on your face to kiss him.

Turning your head into his hand you take his fingers hostage. Taking three at once without warning wasn’t all that sexy. But it surprised him enough that you got his fingers nice and wet. His eyes wide at your confidence, staying that size when you release them and take gentle hold of his wrist.

“Touch me, please.” You command with a soft voice. Guiding his hands down and between your thighs.

It takes Steven a moment to get the rhythm that makes you keen. Simply opening your lips and sliding back forth wasn’t enough. He used two fingers to curl up on your clitoris, swirl slightly, and sliding back down to your entrance but not entering. He does this at a decent pace until your hips started to move with his hands. Going faster when he wanted to hear your sounds and keep it fast when your moans got higher and higher.

Marc isn’t anywhere near when you orgasm. Steven looks to window but only see the city. Really only looking for a few second as your trembling and open mouth was a much better sight than any view could be.

Steven relishes in having you all to himself.  Sitting up on his knees he pulls your sweaty body into a hug. Taking a deep inhale of your hair, kissing your scalp, and squeezing your shoulders.

You squeeze him back. Quickly grabbing his ass probably a bit harder than needed. It made a slap noise that Steven’s eyes shoot open at. He looks down at you and you look up at him with a smile that can only be described as excited.

“We’re not done yet.” You said and pushed away from his just enough to straddle and put a hand between his legs.

There’s no stopping the gasp and groan made when he penetrates. It’s been a minute since you’ve done anything. It makes Steven’s stretch that more effective. Your arms scrambling around his shoulders, groaning into his shoulder while he kisses your temple.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, his hands busy on the back of your thighs to keep balance.

You shake your head before answering. “Steven, please start moving, please.”

He does as you ask: Starting slow to find the rhythm and balance on his knees while your legs wrap around him. Steven is often surprised by his athleticism, this time taking the risk and using his own stretch to lift and bounce you against his lap. The room quickly full of smacking and groans that the neighbors were likely privy to.

“Oh, Oh fuck,” You said, more surprised about being lifted like it was nothing than how deeply Steven was making it into your guts.

Steven says your name like a war chant. Moaning out into your hair and biting into your mouth with the passion and fury of a warrior that no longer exists. He calls your beautiful and begs for your voice that he’ll remember for months, for forever.

Your first orgasm left you with a heavy feeling that pressing down onto Steven’s cock. It made your clitoris sensitive, so much so that you hiss when you reach between you for it. Not able to get the same movements and feelings Steven had provided but it was enough to have your eyes rolling and mouth saying absolute nonsense.

Steven was in no better position. Doing his best to make it good for you but the pleasure and warmth of your pussy was just too much. He grips your thighs hard enough to leave little bruises the next morning. Bringing you into a kiss and moaning like an animal into your mouth. His thrusts becoming sloppy, but they were still enough to focus on while you brought yourself to completion for a second time.

Steven makes a gasp louder than yours when he feels your orgasmic clench around his drained cock. Moving his head to look up at you and smiling when you look back. Your foreheads booping together without any indication from the other.

It’s almost funny, and absolutely cute, when Steven teeters and collapses on top of you. The man was short, but he was heavy with muscle and strength that pins you down to the bed. While you laugh at his dramatics you do tap his shoulder like a pinned fighter. Silently telling him to roll over and release you.

“You were-you are,” He says, still gasping even while you remove and tie off the condom. Tossing it away to avoid making him get up. It’s not until you lay back down beside him that he finally figures out what to say. “You really are everything.”

Laying naked, side by side, you take his hand and bring it up to your lips to kiss the back of it. “Do you wanna stay? Spend the night?” You ask and Steven nods.

Marc comes back before Steven falls asleep. He’s not angry or jealous like he had been at the nights beginning, he’s sad. Something that Steven can see but doesn’t acknowledge.

Steven fights to stay awake the entire night. He holds you close and kisses your face until you demand some peace from the man. Steven using your breasts as a pillow and finally succumbing to reality of Marc taking his place without knowing when Steven will ever be able to come back you again.

[scooprtroopr]

It's a Date!

Steve Harrington x Reader Part 1

Word Count: 1k

Summary: a sequel to Record Store Girl in which Steve won't shut up about his upcoming date to a very happy, but over it Robin (this is a terrible summary, also I guess you could read this without reading record store girl, i'm not your mom do what you want)

a/n: shows up with a part 2 to a fic from 2 years ago with a starbucks, i'm hoping to write a third part at some point, we will see. hopefully it won't take me another 2 years! also this takes place pre-season 4 and ya that's it

Family Video has been open for 2 hours and Robin is convinced that Steve hasn’t shut up the entire time. He’s too excited about this date tonight, practically buzzing. For a Saturday it’s unusually slow so he’s had plenty of opportunity to gush about how cute you are, and how excited you seemed when he showed up at the record store last night. Unfortunately he’s also had plenty of time to start spiraling about the potential of the date going sideways. Robin’s pretty sure she’s about to scream if she has to keep hearing Steve ramble, sure she’s excited for her friend but she’d also like just 5 minutes of peace during her shift. Luckily she’s saved when the bell on the door jingles, alerting them both to a customer. 

“Why don’t you handle that, I’m gonna put away some returns,” Robin rushes out, Steve barely registers that he has to actually do some work before Robin is making her way across the store. 

He won’t admit it to Robin, or even to himself really, but he’s nervous about this date. Nervous like he hasn’t been since he was crushing so hard on Nancy Wheeler. It’s not necessarily a great feeling but he didn’t think he’d get to feel this way again. As much as he wants to complain about having to work he can’t deny that helping customers will keep his mind off of tonight. It’s a good thing he feels that way too  because that one customer seems to have been the opening of the floodgates and Family Video is shortly packed with people. Steve doesn’t even realize how fast time is flying until it’s 12 o’clock and the store quiets down a bit as people are off to enjoy the rest of their Saturday.

“I know I’m going to regret asking, because the break in conversation has been great, but what are you doing tonight? What’s Steve Harrington’s big game plan?” she doesn’t want to freak him out, but Robin can’t help but poke fun at her friend. 

“Well I was thinking I’d pick her up, head to the diner, and then maybe just go somewhere quiet to go for a walk,” Steve responds. Suddenly he’s feeling self-conscious about his plan when Robin makes a face at him.

“That’s your plan? You’ve been obsessing over this girl for months and you’re going to take her to a diner and then on a walk?”

“Robin, we make like no money here! Where else am I supposed to take her? Besides I thought that would be a good way to get to know each other. Ya know? Grab some food, go for a walk and just talk.”

It takes her a second but Robin can’t disagree with Steve. Family Video does pay them practically nothing, and it’s a good sign he really wants to get to know this girl. She sighs before responding, “You’re right it’s a good plan. It’s cute really, kind of romantic taking her out on a walk. Maybe you should grab some ice cream after the diner. I used to know this really good place in the mall. Too bad it burned down.” 

The two can’t help but laugh at that. As shitty as Scoops Ahoy was, and as traumatizing as everything that had happened in the summer was, they couldn’t help but be fond of their old work place. Their laughter is interrupted by the door opening again. Steve composes himself before turning to the door, stopping when he realizes it’s you. You’re here, at his work, in the flesh. But you aren’t supposed to see each other until tonight! Steve’s been working up his nerve all day and he’s not sure how to handle your sudden appearance. Suddenly he feels like a little kid with a crush all over again. He’s got butterflies in his stomach, he can feel a dopey grin forming on his face, and he knows his cheeks are starting to go pink. It takes everything in him to give you a small wave. You return his wave before walking up to the counter, Robin makes herself scarce not wanting to interrupt anything. 

“Hey Steve,” he hears you say it but the sound of your voice saying his name has sent Steve’s brain into overdrive. When he doesn’t respond you wave a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his daze. 

“Hey!” He responds too loudly, you’ve startled him and it’s like he’s entirely forgotten how to be a human. He clears his throat before a much softer “hey” escapes his lips. 

“I’m really sorry I shouldn’t be bugging you at work, but I wanted to talk to you about tonight,” you respond, fidgeting with your fingers. This is it you’re about to cancel on him, Steve is sure of it. He knew it was too good to be true.

“Oh… tonight, ya. Look if you uhh, if you aren’t into it we don’t have to go out tonight. It’s okay I get it,” Steve’s trying to stop the conversation from going forward, figuring if he starts building up this wall now it won’t hurt as much when you agree with his statement that you don’t want to go out with him. So he’s shocked at your response.

“Don’t want to go out, what are you talking about? Steve, I’m really looking forward to it. I was just coming by to let you know I have to do a short shift at work and won’t be able to meet up until 7 instead of 6. I hope that’s okay. Unless you want to cancel, which I guess…” you’re cut off by Steve before you can get your next words out

“NOPE! Don’t want to cancel! 7 works great for me! I can pick you up from work if you’d like,” he can’t help the giant smile that’s appeared on his face. 

“That would be great! Did you have something in mind you wanted to do? I was thinking maybe we could grab some food and, I don’t know, maybe just go walk around. Just get to know each other. I mean all I really know about you is that you work here, you like Madonna, and you have like the best hair I’ve ever seen,” you’re not sure why that last part came out but you’d say it again just to see Steve’s smile grow even bigger. 

Steve’s pretty sure he’s died and gone to heaven. He’s not sure how you’re already on the same page as him without even really knowing each other but he’s not going to question it. “I was actually thinking the exact same thing. We could go to the diner down the street, maybe take a walk through the park after?”

“Sounds perfect, it’s a date! I better get going, but I’ll see you later,” you leave Family Video, turning around at the last second to wave goodbye to Steve. As you walk out the door you can hear Steve’s voice raise to a yell.

“See Robin! I told you dinner and a walk was a good idea!”

[fanfictiondreamscape]

Alternate Endings (Pt. 2)

Title: Alternate Endings (Pt. 2) 

Genre: more angst, possibly more than the last part. this is your warning. 

Pairing: Victor Nikiforov x GN!Reader

Notes: This is a part 2 to the previous part, and I still used the angst prompt list from the aforementioned previous parts to form this piece.

With that said, I think that this will be the only part following the first unless I can find some way to continue the storyline. I intend to keep the ending somewhat depressing and sad, so I guess proceed with caution due to such. 

If you want something similar to this for any other character, please let me know, though! I may also mention that this went from a drabble, to a scenario, and now borders on an imagine - I can’t help that I got caught up! 

Part 1

Below the cut! 

You practically fell off the face of the Earth as soon as you left. 

Harboring all of the money you saved and deciding upon negotiations to make with your employer, you left Russia. You left Japan. You just...left. 

Travelling became a huge part of your life afterwards, and though many people had tried to regain contact with you, you ignored most of them - save for a few. Only Yuri Plisetsky and Yuuko Nishigori were available to your whims, but they were still advised to stay as quiet as possible regarding your whereabouts. 

You changed your whole appearance, changed your mindset, and even changed something as generally miniscule as your wardrobe. Still, as much as you did change and throw away, you couldn’t rid yourself of the many frivolous gifts that Victor had given you over the years. 

Some things you just can’t give up, but you knew that it would be fine. At the very least, you had something that would never let you forget about him. 

Victor, on the other hand, fell off the deep end. 

He had come across the note you’d slipped under his hotel room door and for the first time in a long time, he cried. A true mess was what Yuuri had come across, and as many times that he was able to help him through unconventional methods, this was nearly impossible. 

Victor didn’t leave Japan, but he did become so reclusive that even Yakov was extremely worried upon finding out about the occurrence from an offhand comment that Yurio made when talking to Yuuko over the phone before practice. 

Everyone around him saw the typically extravagant man become so dulled by misery that it became painful to watch. 

He didn’t even know where to start since he’d already tried to find you - looking everywhere that he knew you loved, everywhere that he knew you were often obligated to be at - but had failed to do so. 

It wasn’t until, when Yurio was free, that he overheard him and Yuuko talking at the front desk of the rink as Yuuri was warming up and he was getting his skates on. 

“Yeah, they’re in America right now. They just got a raise, actually - they were even thinking of dropping in when they get enough saved up,” Yuuko recollected, excitement dripping from her tone. 

“Well, they’d have to come by when Victor isn’t here. That would also mean that I’d be gone, but at least you could update me,” Yurio responded. He seemed more nonchalant about the whole thing, but Victor became hysterical. 

Granted, he did suppress what he could to eavesdrop further. 

“Of course! I am still a little worried about them, though - you remember how Victor had gone crazy trying to find them?” Yurio grunted in response. “Well, what if he decides to do something impulsive again and leave mid-competition?” 

The light-blonde teenager in front of Yuuko flinched at the thought. “That’s a good point...but we’ll never know unless it happens when it does.” 

A solemn chill fell upon the two, but the conversation split onto Yurio’s next routine and Victor left it to them. He stared wide-eyed, in pure disbelief, at the wall of lockers in front of him. 

“So they’re...(Y/n)’s in America....”

Ideas began to run through his head as the room became eerily quiet. Even Yuuri, who was sat in the corner and preferred a calm and quiet atmosphere, was perturbed by the sudden shift. 

“I know what I’ll do! Yuuri, skate if you want - I’m going to be out for a while,” Victor announced, generally resembling the flamboyant figure skating icon that everyone knew. 

He took his skates off and capped the blades, putting them into his bag and reaching for his cell phone and scrolling through listings. Katsuki was left dumbstruck, but he went on about what he was doing and decided to run through his routine a few times. 

Yurio had left by this point, and Yuuko was too far in the back to catch the tall man’s outburst. 

It wasn’t until the next day that he was extremely prepared and anyone who understood his issue was suspicious. Victor had hunted for every listing to America from Japan, and memorized the closest ones. Yuuko was the one person who was going to be there that he had to ask. 

“Yuuko, I must ask you something! Would you mind?” was Victor’s burning introduction, shocking the normally upbeat mother. She was a little taken aback at the bold attention grabber. 

“Mmm, yeah?” She tried to be as ‘typical’ as possible, considering that her suspicions were up now. She knew what was going on, she knew what Victor was burning for. 

“You said that you’ve been in contact with (Y/n), yes?” 

Yuuko deadpanned, eyes blank and dropping the facade that she was going to attempt to maintain. “I knew it. Listen, I know that you’ve been troubled since they left, and that they have been as well, but please - give them some more time.” 

Victor visibly deflated. He didn’t think it would work, really, but it was worth a shot. Maybe, just maybe, though.... “How about a hint? Is it hot? Cold? What is a landmark?” 

“No, Victor. Sorry.”

And he was back to his dejected being by the next hour. 

Victor was willing to annoy both her and Yurio, but gave up once they stood their ground with firm hold. “No. (Y/n) is fine, and they will come when they want.” It was always the answer, no matter who he asked. 

Daily, Yuuri would keep him company and skate to the best of his ability. It seemed to quench his troubles just a little bit before the up and coming competition season. 

Eventually, the Grand Prix rolled around again. Yurio was competing, as well as Yuuri, and Victor was there to maintain support for his ever-promising prodigy. 

Amongst the drama that had ensued, the two of them decided to take a break romantically and focus on the practice rather than devote too much issue to their worryingly stagnant relationship. 

It wasn’t until Yurio had pulled Yuuri aside when Victor was getting changed that he was let in on soem information that, had Victor heard, would send him into a frenzy. 

“(Y/n) wanted to me wish you good luck and let you know that they are here to watch. If you wanna talk, they’ll be waiting in the lobby.”

Yuuri almost faltered and told Victor, but decided against it. Your wishes were still high up, even if you two weren’t amazingly close. 

Sadly, Victor was still shaken and hurried. It was a large competition, and as much as he wanted to focus on the task at hand, you never left his mind. 

Over the year that you had fallen out of reach, he began to realize where he screwed up. Maybe he did like you at one time, but he let his own fears get the best of him and he fell to putting more of an interest to Yuuri. 

He truly loves Yuuri, but he truly loved you (romantically) at one point, and you slipped from his reach before he could manage to comprehend anything. 

So, upon making eye contact with a familiar pair of (e/c) eyes and an eerie copy of a blazer that he had given you as a birthday gift years ago, he was left idle. 

“(Y/n)?”

You sucked in a breath and shrugged, sighing afterwards and shaking your head. “Yep, it’s me. Hello, again, Victor.” 

Tears flooded his eyes as he ran to you, arms open and tight as his hug enveloped your frame. You didn’t reciprocate, not immediately at least. With obvious hesitance, you returned the hug, but pushed him away only a couple seconds later. 

“You’ve got a skater to support. We can talk later, okay?” 

“But, you’ve come back and-” 

“Victor. Go support Yuuri.”

He bit his lip, but nodded nonetheless and embarked to the rink. 

After the free skate, the next day’s events were prepared and everyone was sent out for the day. Yurio had caught up with you before heading to his hotel room, and Yuuri had popped in before he changed out of his costume, but Victor was most eager to meet you.

Upon seeing each other, yet again, in the lobby, the two of you parted ways but decided to meet at a restaurant in town. Yuuri would be dining with Phichit and some other competitors, and Yurio was with Otabek going sightseeing, so this was a prime opportunity. 

Silence loomed over the two of you, slow walking and sounds of nature overwhelming your senses. 

“So, you’re probably curious as to where I’ve been,” you began, breaking the tension as calmly as possible. You could have sworn that your heart was going to burst out of your chest if you let the quiet settle any longer. 

“Yes, (Y/n). I really have been.” Victor, for once in the time that you have known him, was quiet. He was never really afraid to speak to you about anything, but the way he was acting now let some of the more obvious pain show. 

“I’ve also been extremely worried. I never realized that you felt like that.”

You stopped upon the sentence, eyeing a nearby bench. Victor followed suit and looked down at you, eye contact being maintained. His gorgeous blue eyes were glassy and he appeared on the verge of tears. 

“(Y/n), darling, I never realized how much you actually meant to me. I was stupid. I- I really, truly did love you. I always thought that you were too good for me, though, so I tried to make the ideas disappear. It worked, but only for a while. I love you, (Y/n). Honestly, I really do, and...

“I don’t know how much longer I can endure this.” 

Your brows furrowed at his proclamation. The thought had never really crossed your mind, but you had always been drawn to his personality and how driven he was. You knew that he would do this, though, as he could also be notably daft regarding certain things. 

“Victor, I-.... Listen, I loved you at one point, but you found Yuuri. You found your match. You made your decision. Out of respect for you and him, I left. But I also did it to respect myself.

“I know my habits. I know that I can fixate, so I needed to get out of your hair if I wanted to feel better. So I did. I’m engaged now, Victor, and the person that I met is amazing. I thought that could have been you. But it wasn’t, and I’m okay with that now.” 

“You- you’re engaged?”

“Yes, yes I am. We haven’t planned our wedding date quite yet, but it is being discussed. The fact of the matter is simple: I knew what would happen if I were to stay, and as much as I love you, - platonically - staying here wouldn’t do me any good. Life comes, things change, and sometimes we just gotta give up.”

Silence fell on you two yet again, but it was interrupted by the slight sniffling coming from the tall Russian. 

“Victor, I came back not because I wanted to fight for your affection, but because I’ve been worried about you. I just want you to know that...I still do care for you, and I have still supported you and Yuuri. But what you want, what I wanted...that’s not possible anymore.” 

Pausing, you thought over your next words. Nothing was ever going to completely repair what was broken, but at the very least, you could try. 

“How about this? Here’s my new number,” you handed him a small slip of paper with the nine digits printed on it in your handwriting. “Let’s start talking again, and you can meet my fiancee sometime. Sound good?”

His mood nearly took a 180, but his demeanor was still sullen and sad. A weak smile crossed his face, and he responded in kind, “Of course. How about we go back to the group and enjoy dinner, though? You’re here again, and it’s more than I could ask for - but we have a lot of catching up to do.” 

[chainofclovers]

Grace and Frankie 7x1 - 7x4 thoughts

Meh? Like...I love them so much, but...meh?

(I did enjoy this line about brunch.)

I really loved season 6 of Grace and Frankie. I thought it was well-paced, largely very well-acted, generally well-written, and it culminated in a massive moment of character development for the title characters, who, having spent years growing closer and being there for each other when others could not or would not be, finally articulate to each other that they are the primary person in each other’s lives. Platonic gal pal soulmate BFF emotional support witches 4 lyfe!

I know progress isn’t always linear, and in fact is very rarely linear, but after a moment that significant, you’d think the writers on this show would maybe come up with some more interesting things for these characters to do than spin in circles?

@bristler and I watched on Friday night, and just this morning over breakfast had a good conversation about the first four episodes of the new season now that they have settled in our brains a bit. We concluded that the writing (often noticeably clunky, like the dialogue is responsible for more narration than usual) and the tone (aggressively wacky) feel really off, especially compared to the prior season. I think we diagnosed the big issue, which is that Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda are by far the most talented actors on this show (if you disagree, fight me in the parking lot) and it feels surprisingly unfortunate that their characters have, to this point in the new season, pretty much figured out their perspectives on each other. No matter how people feel about Grace and Frankie’s sexualities, the whole show has been about them finding each other and getting in deeper and deeper, and it’s less interesting to watch other characters have realizations about that than it is to watch Grace and Frankie having realizations about themselves. If the title characters are now limited to reacting to other people’s actions, and the title characters are played by the best actors on the show, the whole show’s gonna suffer. And is suffering, very much so, at least for these first four episodes. I’m definitely still excited for the final twelve in 2022 (twelve! I cannot believe this season will have sixteen eps!), but I’m pretty disappointed so far.

Stuff I Loved:

The family brunch. These families have been entwined for so long, and the backstory for this particular brunch was so fun (even though I didn’t care for the effects they did to depict Grace and Robert 25 years ago; there was no need for a visual flashback in the scene). I love that Grace hit Frankie with a wiffle ball bat. I love that the two couples realized some of the emotional reasons behind their decisions to lie to each other about Bud’s Bunny and about M’Challah. I love the way Jane Fonda sounds uttering the phrase “Bud’s Bunny” with little to no irony. I love that Grace is able to recognize and articulate just how deep and miserable her anger issues were, albeit with the continued help of her omnipresent martini, and that Frankie told her she’d now make up a holiday in order to spend more time with Grace. I really, really hope Frankie does exactly this at some point in the remaining episodes of the season. I love that Grace is generally a pretty good person now, with aspirations of being a delightful person. I love that she and Frankie don’t have it in them to stay angry with each other, and I love all the evidence that they really, really talk to each other about everything now.

Frankie talking to the man at the office (I don’t remember who he was supposed to be? A toilet manufacturer? I didn’t mention this before, but I actually got pretty high while watching?!? Believe it or not, this was the first time I smoked pot and watched Grace and Frankie at the same time despite having enjoyed both activities on their own for quite some time. I would recommend the combo! And I think I still pretty much got what was happening) about paying for the toilet parts with candy. This whole subplot with the money laundering was absurd and not that interesting, but I loved this particular scene because it was finally evidence of some really thoughtful writing. The concepts aren’t enough! You have to write them into good dialogue! And the whole cash/candy thing was a moment of dialogue that only someone as hilarious as Lily Tomlin could pull off. Which she did, IMO.

In a show about super messy people, Coyote has stayed sober this entire time. He is sober, employed, in love, and preparing to buy a full-sized house with his partner. He hasn’t murdered anyone in his family. Hasn’t even attempted murder once.

In 2017 or whatever, Grace Hanson would have been furious about Frankie using obscure Beatles references like a treasure map when hiding the cash. But here in 2021, she cooperates and even gets in on the fun. The writing is very unsubtle this season, but that did feel like a reasonably subtle moment that shows how good of a partner she is for Frankie. (Platonic, of course! So platonic. Female friendship, amirite?)

Stuff I Did NOT Love and Felt Incredibly Negative About:

Brianna. I can only conclude that June Diane Raphael has decided she’s happy with playing a character whose primary role in life is to be hot and mean. She succeeds at being hot and mean, but I have reached my limit with this character. I realize we’re only a quarter of the way into the season, but I don’t think I can take another arc about her learning to compromise only to reveal to Barry that she never intended to compromise at all. At this point, it’s both abusive and boring. How?! The Grace/Brianna parallels aren’t interesting anymore, because one character has grown and the other is stagnant. I get that Brianna was raised in an emotionally stilted environment by two unhealthy people. But I think it would be very cool if she could learn something from her mother at this point. Grace has put a ton of effort into dealing with her “rabbit-killing, mad-at-the-world anger.” She’s put a ton of effort into figuring out what makes her happy, what she wants her life to look like. She’s even started accepting her age and abilities without shame. And that growth is believable; Grace is still short-tempered and she still slugs back way too many martinis and she struggles to articulate certain things, but she’s grown into a truly lovely human. And while, as a daughter with a mother, I can absolutely attest to the fact that it can be difficult and uncomfortable to learn lessons from one’s mother, Brianna really, really should. Grace spent decades letting anger and shame trap her in a small, miserable life. Brianna—and even Mallory, who just seems like a vapid idiot this season—are traveling that same path, but there’s someone right there who could really help, maybe even more than Frankie helped when the Hanson girls were first growing up.

The arraignment. The scene might’ve been salvageable if it was filmed from Grace’s perspective, and filmed to reflect how surreal and improbable it all was. But speaking of non-linear progress, this scene erased everything Nick Skolka has done to put himself in my good graces (LOL) over the past couple seasons. I mean, I tried, man. I even wrote fic about Nick, Grace, and Frankie making a genuine effort at polyamory. But the arraignment is so emotionally manipulative, such a slap in the face of everything Grace has worked for, and while we’re certainly “supposed” to feel the weight of the moment, I mean, it’s not like we’re supposed to be like, “Oh, cool, we’re in a rom com now! This is adorable!” it still felt bad and unearned and slapdash.

And I want Frankie to process these things with her! Frankie seems so happy to have all this information about Grace and how Grace feels, but I want to see scenes in which we can gain an understanding of how Frankie actually feels. Hearing Frankie talk to other people about how Grace feels is interesting, but it’s like there’s no room in these episodes for us to learn anything new about Frankie herself.

Grace’s transitional wig. Is so. Bad. It is. Such a. Bad wig. Oof. I mean, I like what they’re doing with Grace’s hair from a plot perspective, although (see one bullet up) I would really like to get more of an understanding of what’s happening in Grace’s head, not just on top of her head. And gosh, Frankie would be a really good person to talk to about this in a conversation that lasts longer than 30 seconds. But the wig! She’s in a wig in all four episodes, of course, since Jane Fonda went grey and cut her hair short before they started filming this season. The wig for episodes 1 and 2 is fine; it’s a good approximation of Grace’s typical hair, and of course we know that canonically Grace’s hair isn’t 100% her own hair anyway. But the wig with grey roots looks so weird. The part that’s growing out doesn’t look the same as the hair on the wig from 1 and 2. And the grey roots look like a yarmulke. I cannot wait to get to the point in the season when Grace goes all the way grey.

(One more thing about the hair. I can’t let it go. I paused the show while we were watching to rant, but I’m not done.) I had the great privilege of seeing Jane Fonda in person at a protest in 2019. She is an insanely beautiful human. She was growing her hair out and it was partially dyed blonde and partially grey. It looked really cool. I am not ashamed to say I spent that day learning many things about the climate crisis and about Jane Fonda’s hair. Having seen her in real life with her real hair looking that fucking great, I just have a an extra-large grudge against everyone involved in that horrible wig. The wig is necessary, but it didn’t have to be this bad.

What Do I Care About Now?

I am pretty intrigued by the way Grace threw out her real age in a conversation with Nick and Elena. She has nothing to fear anymore! She’s so chill about aging! What could go wrong? I assume that Nick and Elena maneuvering for Nick to be on house arrest in Grace's house specifically has to do with the fact that Grace is 82. She’s gonna find out that Nick is allowed to be with her because she’s ancient and helpless and the court took pity. Or something like that. She’s going to feel betrayed on top of feeling stifled and overwhelmed by Nick’s presence. I want to see where this goes for sure.

Other than that, and other than the fact that I really do continue to believe this show is moving in a direction in which Grace and Frankie will choose each other, I feel very whatever about this whole thing. I love this show and I will always appreciate this show for giving me some incredible characters to spend years of my life writing about, and for bringing me some pretty amazing friendships. Speaking of those friendships, yesterday @ellydash and @telanu and I were talking about some of the incredible TV we’ve watched recently, like Ted Lasso and Hacks and Fleabag and Killing Eve, and how great it feels to watch beautifully written TV crafted by writers who are profoundly—organically yet intentionally—attuned to even the most minor character’s rhythm. The disappointment of these first few episodes of the new G&F season feels like a mild disappointment rather than a sharp heartbreak, and that has a lot to do with being deeply invested in other shows that could also go in all kinds of different directions but with writing I fundamentally trust.

Also Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin are my forever faves and my appreciation for their performances and general awesomeness onscreen and in life is undiminished. So that’s pretty cool.

[kumkaniudaku]

Simple Syrup

You asked for Daveed smut and I tried to deliver. At least this one time. Enjoy!

Warning: Sexual Content. 18+. 

Daveed Diggs x Black!OC (Olivia Jenkins)(Yes, the MC/ OC is black. Representation is important.)

"Yo, open up!" Heavy fists beat against the door of Olivia's downtown apartment, making her roll her eyes. "I know you can hear me, girl! It's your favorite pop-up roommate!"

"You've been evicted, Diggs!"  

"I paid you rent, though!"

Turning the stove on low, Olivia shook her head as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. Daveed always found a way to surprise her with his presence. He never texted before showing up at her door but frequently sported a backpack or suitcase full of clothes or Rafael for an extended stay. He and all his baggage were welcome anytime, with or without notice.

Stepping to the door, Olivia bit back a smile before responding. "I didn't receive any payments this month."

"I got it in my bag."

"Bag or bags?"

"Open the door to find out."

Daveed took a step back as the locks began to turn, waiting for Olivia's face to greet him with faux anger the way she did the last time he showed up out of nowhere and stayed for three weeks. Despite stopping by six months ago, it felt like a lifetime since he'd been in her company. Bi-weekly phone conversations weren't enough. He needed to be near Olivia while she watched whatever Housewives franchise had her attention for the month.

When the door opened to reveal the long hallway leading to her living area, Olivia stood with a hand on her hips and a grin on her face.

"Where is my money," she asked, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Just as she expected, he stood in the hallway with a suitcase that she knew cost a fortune to check at the airport and his worn Jansport full of junk and work.

Daveed laughed and bent to rifle through his backpack for a crumpled white envelope that he handed over with exaggerated purpose. "Here you go, Miss Jenkins. Sorry to be late on rent for, what, 8 months? I hope this is enough."

"Boy, you didn't really need to pay me. You're not on the lease."

"Good," he answered as he pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. "Because those are just Chick Fil A coupons."

Olivia stood with her mouth open as Daveed brushed her to roll his luggage to the first bedroom on the right.

He listened to her insult his "stupid face" and instruct him to hurry up while he scanned the room he had called home more times than he could count. All of Daveed's belongings were in the same place, with almost unnoticeable shifts to show that Olivia had cleaned once or twice. His favorite throw blanket was folded at the edge of the bed with his initials elegantly embroidered in the corner. The air smelled of the vanilla candle she kept on the nightstand next to a framed photo of the crew enjoying a roller coaster at Six Flags. His favorite trinket, Olivia's homecoming crown from undergrad, sat next to a single gold medal from Daveed's days competing in track and field. To him, it symbolized their bond from the beginning. To her, it was probably just a space to hide old items.

"Daveed, get in here! I need you to cut!"

All at once, Daveed's sense of self returned to center him in reality. He quickly kicked off his shoes once he remembered Olivia's rules and started off toward the kitchen to answer the call for his help.

Even with the windows open, he could smell savory and sweet aromas combining for a smell that reminded him of the holidays. However, the calendar placed them square in the middle of an excruciatingly hot summer. He could see the open bottle of BBQ sauce on the center island next to a mixing bowl full of things he couldn't recognize but knew they would taste great. Bushels of greens sat in a pot on the stove, boiling amid smoked meat and seasonings to complement the food cooking in the oven. Daveed felt excitement take hold of his face and forced the apples of his cheeks up toward his eyes. Olivia looked up from her task at the cutting board and smirked.

"I thought you were vegan now."

"My business is my business, Liv. We talked about this last week."

"We also talked about you heading directly to Toronto after your job in Atlanta and, yet, here you are." She studied Daveed's face for answers but found nothing but a growing smile. "Come over here and cut up these strawberries while I sauce the ribs."

Daveed followed directions without complaint, lazily strolling to the island and nudging Olivia away. He'd been her help in the kitchen before to open pesky jars or stir while she tended to the more time-intensive parts of the meal. On more than one occasion, he had fucked up, and each time she invited him back into her safe space with open arms.

"How's Rafa and the family," Olivia asked with her back turned while she bent to take a peek into the oven.

Daveed kept his eyes on her backside for a moment too long before answering. "Rafa's good. Amy sends her love and says that you are more than welcome for Friendsgiving this year. She volunteered you for pies."

"You volunteered me for pies, Daveed," Olivia corrected, knowing how much her friend loved her desserts. "What about my babies? Is Santiago the best big brother to Emelia?"

"He's...trying. But he did send a gift for the lady with the bald head. His words, not mine."

Olivia ran a hand across her tapered fade and chuckled. "I feel like he heard Rafael say that."

"No, Rafa calls you Thick Mr. Clean."

"Yeah, because that's what you said when you were drunk on New Years," Olivia accused as she gestured toward the cabinet housing her wine glasses. Daveed nodded before answering.

"I said it with love!"

"Mhmm, I'm sure."

Together they watched half a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc be transferred into the separate glasses, waiting for the moment they could take a sip. The last time they shared a drink, they ran through two 12- packs of beer with Rafael and ended up dancing with street performers in Times Square. She hadn't been able to stomach the smell of a Budweiser since then and fully transitioned to fruity notes and sparkling Rosé with Daveed occasionally coming along for the ride.

Taking another long sip from his glass, Daveed leaned against the island counter to watch Olivia stir a mixture for skillet cornbread.

"What's got you so stressed?"

Olivia shrugged but didn't look away from the bowl. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"The last time you cooked like this, you were writing your dissertation. And the time before that, it was your mom."

The room fell quiet outside of the spoon, ricocheting off the sides of the mixing bowl. After several seconds, Olivia took a deep breath and looked up at Daveed.

"Daddy's getting remarried. Omari and I are his best-kids," she laughed. "I'm not stressed. Just a bit...sad, I guess?"

Daveed understood the issue without needing more context. Five years ago, he was the one sitting beside Olivia on the floor of her brother's home office after the news came that their mother had in the hospital. He was there for the saddest funeral he'd ever experienced and the months of reconciliation that the family struggled through on the way to some sense of normalcy. The idea that her father had found love again was heartwarming, but Daveed knew the occasion was bringing up old feelings.

"Wanna talk about it?"

She shrugged again and moved the skillet to the oven. "There's nothing to talk about. I said I'm fine. I wish she was here, ya know, but I know she isn't upset. She always told us to move on once she's gone. She sure as hell would."

Daveed chuckled at the idea of Mrs. Jenkin's moving on in the afterlife. "She was funny like that. I remember when she met me for the first time and kept calling me Devante."

"Yes," Olvia exclaimed, a spark of joy returning to her eyes. "She'd call me and be like, that boy Devante is smart! Ask him if he can put me in a movie one day!"

Olivia's voice warped to imitate her mother as best as possible before she burst into laughter with Daveed.

"One of the last things she said to me was that I need to make sure you keep having fun. She didn't want you to stop enjoying life on account of her."

"Yeah…" Daveed watched Olivia down the wine in her glass with her eyes closed, waiting for her to continue her thought. "Well, you're doing a good job. We could work on your definition of fun, but solid effort so far."

"How can I do better? I'm open to criticism."  

Daveed kept his eyes on Olivia while he reached across her body to grab the wine bottle for the final drink. Her breath hitched while alcohol buzzed through her system, creating the perfect storm for sudden arousal. She fought her thoughts by shaking her head to recover.

"You can start by grabbing those strawberries and bringing them over to the stove."

"Don't skip the question." Daveed's smirk as he followed her to the other side of the counter made Oliva hot with embarrassment, but she kept a calm exterior. "Are you still having fun with me?"

"I always have fun with you, D, you know that. Who else is gonna play Bop It with me at 2 AM on a Wednesday? The question is, are you still having fun with me, superstar?"

"Don't start that. I come and stay at your house because I miss you, not because I can't find somewhere else to sleep. You're my person."

"For now," Olivia added as a rebuttal, ignoring the way her stomach flipped at hearing the way Daveed felt. "What happens when you get married? You're gonna have to go be a family man like Rafa. Then we'll only see each other on Friendsgiving and Christmas."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Hm." Olivia's short but skeptical laugh effectively ended the conversation. Still, Daveed had already made up his mind to return to the discussion later in the week. "So, how long are you here this time?"

Daveed used one of his large palms to push a few curls off his forehead in search of relief from the heat in the kitchen. "I was thinking a couple weeks. Three or four."

"That's longer than normal! I get to have my favorite guy here long enough to help me put wallpaper up in the guest bathroom?"

"Am I only muscle to you?"

"Of course, not," she answered with a sweet smile, making Daveed mirror her expression. "You're also a taste tester. Open up."

Before Daveed could object, Olivia swiped barbecue sauce across his bottom lip for his opinion. The tip of his tongue appeared to taste the tangy brown sauce, finding an explosion of flavor that reminded him how much he missed Olivia's cooking.

"What's the verdict," Olivia asked over her shoulder as she turned off the eye under her simple syrup mixture.

"Tangy and sweet. I'm not sure why you don't bottle this up for sale. My dad would love some."

"Meh, I like having it as a treat for the people I love. All my hobbies aren't for profit, my friend."

Daveed dramatically threw a hand across his chest and gasped. "Did Mean Ole Liv just imply that she loves me? I-I'm gobsmacked. Utterly shocked and eternally grateful."

"Diggs, you're pushing it," she laughed. "Come taste this syrup before I start on the lemonade."

From experience, Daveed knew what to expect. But he humored Olivia anyway if only to see pride light up her face when he told her how amazing the sweet mixture tasted. After washing his hands in the sink, he skimmed his middle and pointer fingers across the top of the syrup to pick up enough to coat his fingertips.

He eyed the liquid for a moment, watching it slowly trickle down the side of his long fingers while he thought of his next move. Olivia stood at the refrigerator with her back turned, humming a song from The Wiz. At the same time, she gathered ingredients for the beverage.

"Hey...hey, Liv." Daveed had already started to close the short gap between them and stood waiting for Olivia to respond to his call.

"Wha -" A sudden swipe of syrup across her bottom lip confused Olivia. "D, what is your problem?"

Stepping forward, Daveed took her chin in his to bring their lips inches apart. "Is it still cool if I taste?"

Olivia stared at Daveed without blinking, fighting her brain for a competent answer to his question. Instead, she nodded in a daze with her jaw slack. His fingers took gentle meandering paths across the peaks and valleys of her face before using his thumb to part her lips.

Daveed's first kiss was a tentative peck to test the waters. When he received no resistance, he pulled Olivia closer for full access to her mouth.

Neither of them expected to fall into the kiss so easily. Olivia didn't expect to melt into Daveed's body while he dictated the pace and intensity. Daveed didn't expect to feel an overwhelming desire to consume the one person that always felt so close but far away. He wanted to feel and taste every part of Olivia while he had the green light. She reveled in Daveed's attention, even if it was only for a moment.

Taking a step backward, Daveed used his knowledge of the kitchen to guide them back toward the stove. Their lips remained connected to taste the last bits of each other. Olivia was the first to break the lip lock and move her head upward, directing Daveed to choose a spot on her neck to explore.

The cold, sticky simple syrup came next, the thick glob landing on the center of her chest and sliding to her cleavage.

"I've thought about this a lot," Daveed spoke barely above a whisper as he used a finger to spread simple syrup across Olivia's chest. "Kinda wild to say, but I have."

"How long?"

"A year. Maybe two."

Olivia released a shaky gasp once Daveed's tongue began licking from the space between her breast to the base of her neck to catch the simple syrup. As quickly as it disappeared, he replaced the sugar mixture with another round at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He groaned as the tart strawberry flavor mixed with the sweetness of the sugar and Olivia's skin. She grasped the back of his head for stability, allowing her eyes to flutter closed for a few seconds.

"How does it turn out? In your thoughts, I mean?"

Daveed paused to kiss Olivia's lips again and run his hands down her back. "Doesn't matter. We're here now, and I can't think of anything outside of how good you taste drenched in strawberry sauce."

"Simple syrup," Olivia answered, smiling as she sneakily dipped her finger into the pot behind Daveed. "It's simple syrup, and I haven't gotten a taste yet. Open your mouth."

They kept their eyes on each other while Daveed opened his mouth, waiting for whatever came next. Olivia took her time to coat his tongue in syrup, imagining how it would feel to experience the concoction from his mouth.

There started the mad scramble to get closer, taste more and touch longer. Separate but equal desires to completely consume the other person had the pair maneuvering around the kitchen. They remained attached at the lips until they reached the solid wood breakfast table near the large casement window. Daveed was the first to remove clothing, pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere behind him. A split-second decision had him rushing back to the stove to retrieve the syrup pot. He carefully placed it on the table while Olivia slid the straps of her summer dress down her arms to let the fabric pool at her waist. Daveed watched with a flirtatious smile, marveling at the expanse of her warm brown skin. Olivia returned the sentiment, letting her eyes rake over his broad chest and toned midsection.

One after the other, Daveed and Olivia added bits of syrup to different body parts to lick and suck the skin clean. A handful mistakenly dripped onto Olivia's thigh, and they watched the sticky liquid carry small chunks of strawberries to the inner portion of her leg.

Daveed regarded the sight with wonder before carefully dropping to one knee for a better look. He maintained eye contact with Olivia as he kissed his way to the sweetest spot, lingering in places that earned the most desirable response. The scratch of facial hair combined with his lips and tongue's soft, silkiness made Olivia keen for more. She could feel the blood rushing to pool at her inner thigh for a bruise that would leave evidence of a dream achieved. She smiled at the thought of seeing it when she was getting dressed and how her stomach might feel with butterflies from the memories.

Daveed mumbled praise after praise into the supple skin of Olivia's thigh before starting a journey back to her lips. When he returned, he slowly pushed the waistband of his sweats down his hips and legs.

"Oh," Olivia spoke, eyes wide while she fought the natural desire to let her gaze travel. "I...wow, okay. I feel like I'm violating you."

"I'm kind of asking you to," Daveed laughed as he stepped closer.

"This is so fucking weird. Are we really about to do this?"

"Only if you want. I mean, I want to, but we can stop whenever you say the word."

He was closer now, dropping kisses on her shoulders while he pressed their chests together to reduce the space between him.

Olivia's legs naturally hooked themselves around his waist at the same time that her arms circled his neck.

She leaned forward to speak against Daveed's lips with her eyes hooded in lust, "I want this."

Passion and the hint of strawberry coating their lips intensified the moment between Olivia and Daveed. He held her writhing hips steady while he stood on his toes to push forward. Simultaneous moans of pleasure rang out in the kitchen, surely gaining the attention of nearby neighbors.

Their hips bucked an even pace, repeatedly meeting to build tension in their bellies. Daveed felt the strain of each stroke in his thighs and calves but found the desire to fuck his friend on her kitchen table to override any other immediate discomfort.

"Are you a talker," Daveed asked randomly, making Olivia's eyes snap up from the action below her waist to focus her attention on him.

"What?"

"A talker. Do you like to talk during sex?" His question came between labored breaths and grunts holding a mixture of exertion and indescribable pleasure.

"Daveed, are you trying to have a conversation with me right now?"

"I mean, I like to - fuck - I...I like to talk sometimes. Is that cool?"

A high-pitched moan ripped through Olivia's throat before she could gather her senses to respond. "It's your c-call, Diggs. Just don't stop."

He followed directions without skipping a beat, digging into his strength to pick up speed when he sensed they could move to the next level. He peppered in filthy statements that stimulate Olivia's mind while driving into her with expert precision.

They held on to each other as they reached separate peaks with no regard for the climbing noise level.

"I wanna do this forever," Daveed whispered into Olivia's ear before nipping at the lobe.

"Not look into my eyes lovingly and write songs about me?"

Daveed chuckled and snapped his hips forward, earning a near-silent moan. "Can I use you calling me daddy on the hook?"

"You got a lot of work to do before that happens."

"I'll put in overtime."

Splaying his hand across Olivia's torso, Daveed pushed her to lay flat on the table before leaning to hover over her body. He used his waning energy to give her all the power in his hips, searching for a climax. When she thought she couldn't come anymore, Olivia felt her body jolt off the table once the pad of Daveed's thumb began rubbing tight circles on her clit. Daveed smiled at the reaction but felt it disappear as soon as his hips falter mid-stroke. He rushed to pull out of Olivia, fearing that if he stayed inside for a moment longer, he would expedite his journey to fatherhood.

Olivia helped his cause by curling her fingers around his length and joining his pumping effort while she propped her body up on her elbow. He came with a choppy moan and heavy breathing on her belly, his chest rising and falling rapidly in time with the stove's timer beeping for attention.

Both Olivia and Daveed dissolved into laughter.

"Please, don't let this dry on me. It's sexy now but a pain to get off later."

Daveed's laughter climbed to hysterics at Olivia's mention of the mess on her stomach before reaching across the table to grab napkins out of the centerpiece component.

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly as he helped wipe her clean. "Condoms next time?" 

"Or my mouth."

Daveed stood shocked for a split second while Olivia worked to readjust her clothing and hurry to the stove. He followed her lead and pulled up his sweats before clearing the syrup pot and grabbing wipes to disinfect the surface.

The room was silent while they arranged hot dishes on the counter and privately grappled with having sex for the first time. A sense of "now what" hung in the air, which made Daveed more and more uncomfortable.

After plates were fixed, they chose opposite ends of the table to enjoy the meal.

"You know," Olivia started, laughing as she swallowed the last piece of cornbread on her plate. "That simple syrup recipe is my mom's. This whole meal was her favorite thing to cook, and I made it because I was really fuckin' sad and needed her nearby. Then you showed up."

Daveed's eyes snapped up from his plate. He wasn't sure what to say and remained silent in hopes that Olivia would elaborate.

"A couple weeks before she died, she told me that she would still be directing my love life from Heaven. She grabbed my hand and said, 'Dammit, Bean, I'm gone get you a man even if I gotta do it during bingo with the good Lord.'"

"You think she's up there winning the grand prize?"

Olivia shook her head. "I think she forfeited it to send you to me."

Her answer made Daveed still to watch Olivia's eyes meet his set from across the table. She reached a hand across the table with her palms facing upward, beckoning Daveed to place his palm in the center of hers.

"We have three weeks to figure this shit out," Daveed said, smiling before bringing Olivia's palm to rest on his cheek.

She looked at him for a minute to take in the way his eyes reflected the sun before using her head to gesture toward the pot still resting on the counter.

"And all night to finish off mama's recipe."

[gaemkyuu]

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Warnings: death of a loved one and grief. There is one mention to drinking a bottle of wine but all characters in the story are above the age of 21. A/N: this is based off a post @ah2113​ made a little while ago! I liked the idea and decided to write a cute fluffy piece on it! Hope you like it! “Reader and Charlie are best friends and they met on JATP. Charlie and the reader are in love with each other but don’t know. The readers grandma passes away and she calls Charlie, who is in a completely different state/country, in tears about the situation. Charlie feels horrible and completely drops everything he’s doing and immediately flies out to the reader and surprises them. He is with them throughout the whole viewing and funeral and meets her entire family. Everybody mistakens him for the readers boyfriend because of how much he is doing to help and tells the reader that he is clearly in love with them.”  Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life. 

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Charlie was in the middle of an interview when his phone started vibrating. Normally he kept it on airplane mode, but today he forgot. He quickly reached for his phone and saw her name pop up on the screen, losing focus for a brief moment on the interview. 

“Pardon me? Could you repeat the question?” Charlie was trying so hard to focus on the interview at hand but knowing he was on the last question, made it all the more difficult to focus when he knew she was calling.

“Charlie, the fans want to know. Are you single?” he chuckled but since he was distracted, he didn’t give a really good answer.

“Kinda” he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth and the fact that he started blushing made the situation worse! Thankfully the interviewer didn’t press any further into the matter and made a casual joke about it. They quickly wrapped the interview knowing that Charlie had another one scheduled right afterwards, but he had a few minutes to make up a phone call.

Amelie had worked on set for season one of Julie as a hair and make up artist and shocked many at how talented she was for her age. She got along well with the cast and would often hang out with them on their days off, but for some reason she gravitated the most to Charlie. Everyone often teased them about the chemistry they had and how they would make a great couple but both of them would laugh at the comments and deny any feelings towards one another. They were simply nothing more but really good friends.

Or so they thought.

Amelie was head over heels for the brunette and Charlie for her. She loved his smile and enthusiasm for life. She admired his work ethic and passion for what he did. She would squash every thought about being with Charlie because he was too good for her. She liked the weirdest things and entertained people with the most random facts. She could spend hours in an art and fashion museum, when most people could only spend so much time. Amelie saw herself as weird and knew that Charlie saw her as nothing more than a friend.

The opposite was true. Charlie loved her quirkiness and nerdiness around the strangest things. He loved that she was always so modest and humble, even though she had all the right to brag at how amazing she was at her talents. He loved how she was always up for trying something new and that she had an eye for fashion, design and art, but he knew she didn’t see him as anything more than a friend. That still didn’t stop Charlie from always being there for her.

“Charlie?” her voice came out in a broken and quiet whisper. He could tell that she was crying and he instantly felt his stomach drop. A few sniffles came from the other line before the voice spoke again. “She’s gone Charlie... Grandmaman is gone...” he could hear her voice start to shake again.

“Say the word Amelie and I am there” Charlie glanced at his watch,8:55pm. He had five more minutes until the next interview with the pop culture podcast from Sydney. This meant that it was 5:00am in London, where Amelie was working on Netflix’s newest series. “Ams?”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just didn’t know who else to talk to...” she sniffled quietly not sure what else to say.

“What time are you leaving to get to set?” 8:57pm, he was running out of time. He saw the notification that the next interviewer had signed on to their zoom meeting.

“I gotta be on set at 7:00am so the van will be here to pick me up at 6:30am. It’s my last day on set, so there’s that” she sniffled again, feeling herself calm down with Charlie on the other line. She desperately needed him, but she couldn’t ask him that. He was doing press for season 2 of Julie and the Phantoms and he needed to be available, not off consoling his friend who was madly in love with him. 

“Amelie, listen, I have to jump onto the next interview, but try to get a little more sleep and drink some water. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done. When are you flying back?” Charlie felt awful having to hang up on her when he knew she needed him.

“I’ll be on the next flight out to Vancouver. Hopefully there’s a flight this evening back to Canada. My mom’s really upset and my siblings are rushing to get home for her” Amelie took a deep breath and listened to the frustrated sigh on the other end. He was probably annoyed that she called him. “Thank you for picking up Char”

“Anything for you Ams... I’m really sorry but I have to go now... If you’re busy when I call, can you let me know when you’re at the airport?” Amelie agreed and hung up the phone, flopping on the bed and a silent stream of tears falling from her eyes again. Meanwhile, Charlie sat in his LA bedroom, head in hands frustrated that he couldn’t be there for her.

***

Amelie watched out the window as the plane landed in Vancouver. She felt an anxiousness to get off the plane and be with her mom, but she knew she had to go through security and baggage. She didn’t notice that her leg was restlessly bouncing until the nice old lady beside her placed a hand on her lap. 

“Excited are we?” she smiled at her kindly and Amelie blushed, a little embarrassed. “I was once in love too. I get the feeling”

“Actually, I’m just anxious to be with my mom... My grandmother passed away yesterday and I wanna be there for her” the old lady’s smile changed to an empathetic one and she patted her knee.

“I’m sorry for your loss my dear... I lost my sister a year ago today. It is not an easy thing to grieve and I can tell that your soul feels heavy. You might want to think about sharing that load with someone” she smiled. A flight attendant interrupted their conversation letting them know that she had priority to leave the plane. The old woman then looked at Amelie and winked. “They’re letting us off the plane now honey. Thank you miss, but my daughter can grab my bags from the upper compartment, can’t she” baffled at the kindness of the old woman, Amelie dumbly nodded and stood to help her. As they made their way through the gate, an attendant was waiting for the old woman. “You can leave my bags with this gentle man” she smiled.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that” the old woman took her hand. “Your mother is fortunate to have you as a daughter. Now go and be with her” Amelie smiled and gave the old woman a hug, and teared up a bit remembering her own grandmother. Wiping away a tear, Amelie said thank you again and headed off to get her bags. To no surprise, getting her suitcase was a gong show because they had to share a lane with another flight. By the time she got there, tons of people waited right by the carousel for their bags, making Amelie stand in the back and tippy toe to see a glimpse of her bag. She was fortunate that a man had helped her as she squeezed her way to the front, waiting for her bag. With a deep breath, she exited the doors and dialed her mother.

“Hello? Maman? What car are you in? Oh wait! I see it!” Amelie quickly rushed outside of the door at YVR to get to her mother’s vehicle. She was able to find a flight that evening and she left right away. The flight was long, but she was able to make it home to her mother’s side in 24 hours. She trotted over to her mother’s vehicle that pulled into the loading zone, flashing their hazards on, her mother getting out of the passenger side. Amelie stopped for a moment, confused that her mother wasn’t driving the car. Her mother quickly embraced her in her arms and both of them shared a tearful hug. “Who’s driving maman?”

Charlie stepped out of the driver’s seat and took Amelie’s suitcase from her, as she stood there with her mouth open. “Surprise?” she immediately felt a sudden wave of emotion wash over her and she jumped into Charlie’s waiting arms crying as he held her tight. She felt sadness and happiness while grieving over her Grandmother and feeling elated at the sudden presence of the boy.

“How?” she sniffled and pulled away, wiping her tears.

“Charlie knew how sad you were over Grandmaman, so he texted me late last night and flew in early this morning” her mother explained. Amelie’s mother knew of her crush on the boy and always encouraged her to pursue the relationship further, but she always insisted to her mother that they would be nothing more than friends. Her mother would roll her eyes at her daughter every time she said that, knowing that the chemistry and the feelings were there, but the two were just too stubborn to admit it.

“That’s what friends are for right?” 

Right. Friends.

***

After being picked up at the airport, they went straight to her mother’s house and helped her mom plan out things for the funeral. Naturally, Charlie became the chauffer, driving Amelie and her mom around the city to make various appointments with funeral directors and lawyers. Amelie’s grandmother gave birth to five children and never remarried after her husband passed away. Amelie had very little recollection of her grandfather as he passed away when she was quite young. Each of her mother’s siblings had at least three kids and each child had at least three kids, making their family huge. That didn’t include her mother’s cousins and their families, all of which would be flying in to attend the funeral in two days time.

Running around was an emotionally exhausting task, not to mention the exhaustion that came with grief. The two women were grateful that Charlie was around for them that day as Amelie’s siblings slowly started to get into town. He ordered pizza for everyone, knowing that all of her siblings would be in Vancouver in time for the funeral. Her grandmother was clear that she wanted the viewing and funeral to be combined into one day, not wanting to prolong her burial process, something that they honored. But with that request, it meant a lot had to be done.

Amelie had four siblings, all of which were older than her, making her the baby of the family. Her brother Benoit had moved to New Brunswick to live with the love of his life Maxime, and he was the second to arrive. He had work to take care of and unfortunately Maxime couldn’t get the time off. Benoit got along very well with Charlie, connecting over Dieppe and how it differed from Fredericton where Benoit lived with his partner. Her twin sisters Rachelle and Rene got into Vancouver right before dinner and actually carried the pizza inside while Charlie paid. Both sisters lived in Toronto, one training on the Olympic figure skating team and the other working in Parliament. Throughout the night, they joked about how cute Charlie was and how they were both single and didn’t mind dating someone younger. This annoyed Amelie but she wouldn’t admit that to anyone. Her third oldest brother, Theo, was the last to arrive, getting in way past dinner but before midnight. He lived in New York pursuing photography and had to finish a shoot before he could come home. Hearing this, Charlie asked him multiple questions about photography when they sat around their mother’s fireplace that night. It was nice to be able to gather as a family before the craziness of their relatives. French Canadian families were big, loud and full of personality, but Amelie knew Charlie understood this dynamic very well.

The next two days passed by in a blur with Charlie helping out wherever he could and sometimes locking himself in her mother’s office to do an interview or meeting here and there. Amelie was so grateful for him because every time she felt overwhelmed or that she was going to cry, he somehow made it to her side, comforting her and helping her be strong. Rachelle and Rene kept telling her to claim Charlie before they did, but Amelie would always insist that they were friends. But when her brothers got involved, Amelie couldn’t help but think that maybe her siblings were right. Maybe she should ask Charlie out, but how could she do that when her entire family was still dealing with the loss of her grandmother?

Just last night, Charlie sat up late into the evening comforting Amelie as she put the slideshow together on her Macbook. She could hardly look at the pictures or listen to the music without tearing up and having mini cry sessions on his shoulder, something he took in stride. It also didn’t help that she had consumed an entire bottle of wine...

In all honesty, Charlie couldn’t be more happy to be by her side at this moment. He knew how hard it was to lose a loved one, especially since he lost his grandmother before filming season one of Julie and the Phantoms. Being here for her was important to him and he wanted to show her that she could always come to him. When she passed out on his shoulder that night, he thought about how badly he wanted to be with her as he tucked her in bed. He loved how she snuggled into his shoulder as he finished up the slide show and he loved that she reached out for him and called his name in her sleep as he walked away. He kissed your forehead goodnight and hated the fact that he couldn’t just call you his.

A soft knock at the door interrupted Amelie’s day dream of her grandmother. She wiped the tears that have unexpectedly fallen from her eyes and took a deep breath. “Come in” her voice was shakier than she wanted it to be, but relief washed over her when Charlie walked in wearing a black dress shirt and tie. He smiled empathetically to her and approached her with open arms, something she gladly accepted. She inhaled his scent, burying her face in his chest, while he rested his head on top of hers. 

“You ready?” Charlie held her tight as he asked this question. This would be the first and last time Amelie would be seeing her deceased grandmother.

“I should be asking you that question” she softly giggled. Charlie would be meeting all of her relatives today, including her annoying cousin Madeleine. 

“You forget that I too have a big family. It’ll be fine. Plus, I’m here for you and not them” Amelie pulled away from the hug to stare him in the eyes, silently figuring whether now was a time to discuss her feelings or not. In the end, she decided against it and smiled softly at him, which he returned.

“Thank you for being here Char... It really means a lot” he chuckled and pulled her close for a second hug, something she would never tire hearing.

“Anything for you Ams. Anything.”

***

The funeral and mass went according to plan and soon enough they found themselves in the church basement with a slide show of her grandmother playing in the background, while guests visited the pastries and beverages being served. Amelie was occupied with the many questions her aunts and uncles had about her career and how she was doing, but she couldn’t help but worry about Charlie. Throughout her conversations with her relatives, she watched Charlie help out her mother with the pastries and beverages, stopping once in a while to entertain the younger cousins at the children’s table. She smiled at him gratefully for helping out so much, but grew a little nervous when her nosy aunts and uncles pulled him aside and started interviewing him. It seemed like he was handling himself fine, but Amelie felt even more confident when he made eye contact with her and winked. 

“Well if it isn’t the Hollywood superstar.” Amelie could feel herself cringe at the sound of the voice. It was Madeline, Amelie’s cousin. They were the same age and same stature, but they couldn’t be more opposite. Madeline pursued modeling at a young age and still continued to do it, but for some reason, she always felt that everything was a competition. Amelie wanted to simply be cousins, but Madeline would take every opportunity to upstage her or show off to their aunts and uncles. Amelie didn’t really care, but the more she didn’t the more vicious Madeleine became. At one point in their lives, Madeleine had moved to Vancouver for more opportunities and ended up living with her family. This caused a lot of drama between the two of them, including Madeleine dating several of her exes and bringing them to family events.

“Hey Mads. Long time no see” Amelie forced herself to be nice and polite, even though she felt her cousin didn’t deserve it. Her black dress was a little too tight and a little too revealing for a funeral, but she wasn’t about to bring that up. “How have you been?”

“Oh you know, living it up in Paris, traveling all over Europe for different modeling jobs. It’s exhausting, but I’m sure you know of it” anyone could hear the sarcasm and apprehension in her voice. Her aunts awkwardly moved away, making up some excuse about visiting other family members so that they could catch up. “How does it feel to be working on a children’s show?”

“I mean, I love what I do, so I can’t complain” Amelie bit her tongue before she could say anything rude. She never understood why her cousin always felt the need to announce how much better she was over her.

“So... optimistic. What’s it feel like to settle?” she felt the blood rush to her face, starting to lose control of her emotions. This was not the place or time to have this conversation, yet Madeline persisted. She took a deep breath trying to level herself and forced a smile on her face. As she opened her mouth to reply, she felt a warm hand hug her lower back and the slight smell of cologne fill the air.

“Everything alright babe?” she blushed at the name and gesture from Charlie, who kissed the top of her head. Madeline flushed and her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Oh hi, I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Charlie” he reached out his hand towards Madeline, keeping the other wrapped around Amelie. 

“Madeline. It’s nice to meet you Charlie. You’re an actor from the show that she worked on, right? What are you doing here?” Amelie could hear the faintest trace of annoyance in her voice, and shook his hand. Charlie and Amelie looked at each other, a cocky smile on Charlie’s face and slight confusion on Amelie’s. 

“I’m her boyfriend and I came to support her. I’m sure you’ve been dealing with the grief as well and I couldn’t let her go through this alone” part of what Charlie said was true, but Amelie couldn’t help but blush at the mention of boyfriend. No one had actually asked Charlie if they were dating, but a lot of relatives were beating around the bush. Apparently Charlie had said that rather loudly and some of the relatives started gossiping in a hushed voice. 

“Wow Amelie. I didn’t know you had such good taste in men based on your past partners” Charlie laughed at the comment, something Madeline didn’t suspect.

“I wouldn’t say I’m good taste, but Ams if definitely a catch” he gloated and kissed her cheek, causing Amelie to blush furiously. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I actually came over because your mom needs some help” if there was one thing Amelie could count on, it would be Charlie’s ability to read a situation and get her out of it. “Shall we, my love?” she nodded and walked away from Madeline flushed and confused, but also really excited. He moved his hand from her back to her hand, softly dragging her away from the conversation.

“Boyfriend?” Amelie whispered to him, inferring the comments he made to Madeline. 

“I know she ruffles your feathers, so why not ruffle hers?” Benoit interrupted Charlie, asking him if he could help put some of the tables from upstairs away. “You’re mom’s in the kitchenette, you can probably hide there for a bit. I got you a plate of pastries that I stashed in the back” she thanked him and watched him walk away with her brother. Before she could take another step, Rachelle and Rene linked arms with her on either side and rushed her into the kitchenette.

“So you’re dating now?!” Rene questioned and before Amelie could answer, Rachelle interrupted her. “When were you going to tell us this?!”

“About time” her mother scoffed, stirring another jug of fruit punch. “Okay you two, leave your sister alone to breathe for a second. Take these pitchers out to the table and find Theo. Make sure Tante Genevive hasn’t stolen him for a private photoshoot for Facebook” Amelie was grateful that her mother shooed the twins off and passed her the plate that Charlie put aside. 

“Thanks Maman” her mother smiled smugly at her, moving about the kitchenette. “Please don’t say I told you so” her mother made the motion to zip her lips as she giddily made her way around the kitchen.

***

That evening, Amelie’s family stumbled through the front door of her mother’s house, everyone retiring to their rooms for a short moment of relaxation while their mother ordered take out for a late dinner. They had stayed behind to clean up with a few other relatives and put away the church tables and chairs. Charlie didn’t complain a single time and rushed to do whatever he could to help everyone out. Charlie followed Amelie up the stairs to her old bedroom and shut the door behind him as she plopped onto the bed. Part of Amelie did this was because she was tired, but the other part of her did it hopefully to avoid the conversation they were about to have. Charlie quietly sat beside her on the bed and played with her hair, something she absolutely loved.

“So, about today...” this conversation was happening whether she wanted it to or not.

“It was really nice of you to stand up for me but you didn’t have to. I have no problem telling my family it was a small misunderstanding. It should stop them from blabbering to the media” She sat up and Charlie looked incredulously at Amelie confused at what she was saying.

“Ams, I don’t think you get it” again, she interrupted him before he could continue.

“No I do, I get it. You’re an amazing friend Char and you didn’t have to risk the rumours for-” she didn’t complete the thought because Charlie’s lips were suddenly on hers and she completely melted into them. It was like this tension that she never acknowledged left her shoulders, making her feel like she was floating.

“Do you understand now?” he searched her eyes for some sort of confirmation. “I really like you Amelie and I’ve liked you for a long time, but I’ve always thought you wanted to be friends”

“I wanted to be friends?! I thought you friend zoned me first!” he gave her a look for interrupting him. “Sorry”

“Regardless of what happened, being with you here and helping you and your family throughout all of this made me want to be a part of your life so much more. I want to be more than your friend. I know this is a bad time to say this, but I don’t think I can keep pretending that I don’t want to be with you” he held her hand in his and drew nearer to her again. “I really want to be with you if you’ll have me”

She closed the gap between the two of them and kissed him this time, something which Charlie gladly accepted. The two shared a simple but passionate kiss, as if they were confessing two years of secret feelings to each other. A bang at the door startled them.

“Put your pants on! Maman wants you guys to go pick up the take out!” Benoit yelled from behind the door. The two flushed at the comment and heard the snickers and giggles from the other siblings.

“So...boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend.”

[veniteme]

Hunting for Gems

season preview

ash island x reader

prev | next

When Ash Island is forced to participate as a producer for the latest season of Show Me the Money, he knows it won't be easy. But when his partner is you, a rising producer from H1GHR, maybe it won't be as bad as he thought.

2k words

As you stand before the door to the waiting room, heart thudding loudly in your chest, you think back to when the KIFF boys were in your studio eating cake a week ago.

“What am I supposed to do?” you slap Rohan’s arm vigorously as you panic. “How am I supposed to act around him?” The rest of the boys had already left, allowing you to freak out in relative privacy.

You’ve been an avid fan of Ash Island since his days on High School Rapper 2. Once he started releasing music, your infatuation with him only increased. When Jay informed you that you’d be working with him for the entire season of Show Me the Money, your brain immediately worked itself into a frenzy. On one hand, you were excited to meet someone whose music you loved. On the other, how were you expected to function properly next to him with the entire world watching through a camera?

“Okay, first thing you need to do,” Rohan starts, “is stop hitting me! You may be weak, but if you hit me enough it starts to sting okay? And second, just be normal? Act how you usually do.” He makes it sound so easy, as if you won’t die on the spot the moment the two of you make eye contact.

“That is under the assumption that I am able to think with him sitting next to me. And alright, let’s say I am actually capable of saying more than two words in his presence, what if he doesn’t like me? What if he thinks I’m weird or annoying?” You’ll be crushed if this person that you’ve admired for so long decides he doesnt like you.

“Then he’d be a good judge of character?” You hit Rohan even harder. “Ow! Relax, I was just kidding. Look, I’ve known the guy for a couple years now, and he has no right to call someone else weird. Plus, he’s one of the chillest guys I know. You’ll be fine. From what I’ve seen recently, the only time you need to be worried is when the cameras are on.”

“What do you mean?”

-----

While you stood outside the door, Ash is inside, staring nervously at the production crew setting up the cameras. Unlike you, he is not nervous about the two of you meeting. He’s worked with countless artists, featured on so many songs, he is used to interacting with people he didn’t know. What actually scares him is having to be a functioning human being in front of all these cameras.

He’s never done a such a big production like this, never seen so many cameras all pointed at him, capturing his every move. Thinking about all the eyes that will be watching him through that lens gives him anxiety. Normally, he’d be drinking right now to take off a bit of the edge. However, he doesn't think that would help with this cold bad boy image he is already starting to have. On top of being a jerk, the public will then think he was an alcoholic.

Just when he thinks he'll burst from nerves, you decide to walk through the door, a welcome distraction from all the thoughts running through his head.

-----

The first thing you see as you walk in is the production crew. All you are filming today are some short interviews to introduce the producer teams. They’ll be airing it as a teaser for the new season. You bow your head in greeting to the staff as you head to your seat. And that’s when you see him.

The two of you make eye contact, both looking up at the same time. And then you freeze; your brain short-circuits and for a second, all you can do is stare. Ash Island, the guy whose songs take up a good chunk of your playlist, is sitting there, right in front of you.

You break out of your stupor when you hear his voice. “Hey, what’s up?” he says casually. And you realize you’re being incredibly rude to someone who is older and a senior in the industry.

“Hello! I’m Saf. I’m a producer for H1GHR Music,” you introduce yourself officially.  

He chuckles a bit. “Yeah, I know. We’ve seen each other at the H1GHR-Ambition parties.”

“Right,” you say nervously. And you guys had met before, but you didn’t think he’d remember. He was always across the room or on the opposite end of the table, so you two never really interacted. In fact, this is the first time you’ve heard his voice, and not through a song on your phone.  

“So did you want to sit down?” he asks. You’ve just been standing in front of him for a while.  

“Oh!” you immediately take a seat. Now what are you supposed to say? Thankfully, he decides to fill the silence.

“You're friends with Rohan right?” he asks. Not really who you’re thinking about at the moment, but you'll take it.

“Yeah, I am. We're in the same crew,” you explain. “Why, did he say something about me?” you ask, feigning nonchalance. If Rohan said anything remotely embarrassing about you to Ash Island, you were ready to kill him.  

“Oh no, I just remembered him drunk-dialing me last night to wish me luck on the show.” You laughed, making a comment about how dumb Rohan was sometimes. And that’s how the rest of your conversation went until you started shooting, sharing dumb stories about your mutual friend.

-----

SHOW ME THE MONEY SEASON X

Team ASH ISLAND x SAF Q&A

The two are seated side-by-side in front of the camera. Ash Island is looking quite stiff and uncomfortable, while Saf has an easy smile on her face.

Please introduce yourselves.

After a glance at Ash Island, Saf begins her introduction with a bow.

Saf: Hello, everyone. My name is Saf, I’m a producer for H1GHR Music.

Following her lead, it seems Ash Island takes his first breath since the camera started rolling.

Ash Island: Hi, guys. I’m Ash Island from Ambition Musik.

Did you two know each other before the show?

Saf: Well, of course I don’t think there’s anyone interested in Korean hip hop right now that doesn’t know Ash Island. But we’ve also seen each other in passing at events and parties and such. This is my first time really talking to him though.

As she talks, Ash Island appears to loosen up just the slightest. He directs his gaze to Saf when he speaks.

Ash Island: [to Saf] You… can just call me Ash.

Saf looks at him in surprise, her cheeks just the slightest shade darker, undetectable to most.

-----

“WHY DID THEY EDIT IT LIKE THAT?” Rohan’s obnoxious laughter in the background is only furthering your agitation.

“Come on,” Rohan lets out between spurts of laughter. “That had nothing to do with the editing. Don’t tell me that wasn’t exactly how it felt when he looked at you.”

Unable to refute his claim, all you say is “Whatever.”

“Did they have to put in the romantic background music and CGI cherry blossoms though?” you complain.

Ignoring your best friend’s following fit of laughter, you begrudgingly hit play once again.

-----

“Duuuuude I didn’t realize you were so smooth!”

“Our Bition Baby is all grown up!”

“You can just call me Ash,” Changmo repeats in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“What are you guys talking about?” Ash asks, only slightly annoyed that his labelmates had interrupted his studio time. He wasn’t making much progress today anyway.

“Did you not watch the Show Me previews last night?” Hash Swan asks.

“No, I thought I’d avoid the embarrassment of seeing myself on national TV,” Ash replies. He was there when it happened, he didn’t need reminders of how awkward he was on camera.

“Alright, you have to watch this,” Leellamarz says, pulling up the reposted video on Youtube.

-----

You guys are the youngest producer team in the history of the show. Do you feel pressured by this fact?

Saf: [to Ash] Do you want me to answer this one?

He looks at her and nods wordlessly. She smiles at him in return before addressing the camera.

Saf: Of course, working next to such big names and artists can be quite intimidating. But I think as long as we put out work that we can be proud of, I will be satisfied.

Saf: But I would appreciate it if the viewers would look kindly upon us as it is our first time on this show. I’m kind of a wimp; I think I’d be pretty hurt if I saw we were receiving hate comments.

Saf’s smile indicates she’s only joking, and the production team can be heard laughing behind camera.

Ash: I doubt anyone in their right mind would send you hate.

Saf: Why not?

Ash: All you do is sit and smile and release music. What could anyone possibly say about you?

Saf: …I’ll take that as a compliment.

Ash: It was one.

-----

“I hope you know that if you break her heart,” Changmo starts, “I’m petitioning to kick you out of the company. I am NOT risking losing an invite to AOMG-H1GHR parties because of you.”

Ash rolls his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, dude. Glad to know you have so much faith in me. But also, chill out. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Yet? So you are planning on making a move?” Hash Swan questions. Ash sighs. Why are these guys reading so much into everything he says?

“No, I am not making a move, I barely know her,” Ash refutes. “She’s just a producer that I will be working with for the next couple months.” That day was the first time he’d ever talked to you. There is no reason to get excited about anything just yet, even if he does think you have a nice smile.

“Come on, Ash. She’s not just a producer,” Leellamarz points out. Ash is a bit wary of where he’s going with this-

“She’s a very cute producer.” -and rightfully so. Ash really can’t catch a break with these guys. They all burst out laughing, and Changmo gives Leella a high-five.

“Whatever,” Ash mutters. “Why the sudden interest in my love life anyway?”

“Wow, you’re not even gonna try and deny that you think she’s cute?” Hash asks. This guy is way too observant.

“I have eyes. How am I supposed to not think she’s cute?” Ash says bluntly.

“You know, contrary to what you may believe, not everybody has to find her cute,” Changmo says, mostly just to tease him. “Maybe she’s just not my type,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, that’s because she’s actually nice,” Ash retorts. “And we all know that isn’t your type.”

“That’s never been your type either, Ash, so why the sudden change of heart?” Leella asks.

“Maybe I’m looking for a change of pace,” Ash says with a noncommittal shrug. This is all hypothetical anyway. It’s not like he’s planning on asking you out or anything. He just thinks you’re cute, there is no reason for the guys to make such a big deal out of it.

“Yeah, well be careful. You’re going to make some very scary people mad if you mess around with her,” Changmo warns.

“Please, the H1GHR guys are like literally the nicest guys on the planet. I think I’m safe,” Ash says.

“That’s not who I’d be worried about if I were you.”

-----

a/n: let me know what you think!! was the official show part too short? are there parts that sound weird/awkward? first time writing full fics so i'm always open to feedback!

[link4eva]

Kiro’s S2 Company Project- Campus Youth Translation [CN]

Hi, everyone! Just a couple of notes before you begin reading. I don’t actually know Chinese so this translation was done through the power of Google Translate and with help from @keliosyfan​. Thank you! 💛

This translation contains spoilers for Season 2 content which hasn’t been released to the ENG server yet. If you wish to not be spoiled,  please don’t look below the cut.

Enjoy!~

*Spoilers below for future content!*

[Stage 1]

I’ve already graduated, but it feels good to be back at school.

At this moment, the conference room is full of people.

The woman sitting across from me was drinking water and putting down the thermos in her hand.

This very accomplished woman in front of me is a very reputable director and has a great reputation in many film festivals.

Not long ago we reached an agreement with this director--

A few months later, Kiro will be participating in a movie production involving friendship amongst youths on campus.

The director looked at Kiro next to me and said,

Director: As far as I know, Kiro has no experience of going to high school in China.

Director: Considering that every detail in our youth drama must be accurately portrayed….

Director: I propose that he go to the high school campus for a week to learn about high school life in China.

Director: At the end of that week, let’s discuss the experience of it.

After listening to the director’s suggestion, I fell into deep thought, and my fingers tapped on the table.

MC: If a star were to go to the campus to experience high school life for a week, will it cause “trouble” for the school and students?

Director: I have a friend in a private high school so we can call ahead and see.

Director: And this school holds great importance to the arts. I believe everyone will look forward to Kiro’s arrival. Of course, we will tell the students the exciting news in advance.

Director: With the students’ academic schedules in mind, I can only arrange a week.

MC: Sounds like a good idea.

I nodded slightly and looked at Kiro.

He put his chin in one hand and gave a silly smile.

Kiro: My thoughts are exactly the same as those of the director. 

MC: Director, please arrange it.

MC: If you still need our cooperation, please feel free to let us know.

As soon as my voice fell, Kiro’s rang through.

Kiro: Director, I have a little suggestion~ 

Kiro: I hope that someone can be with me in addition to making it easy to shoot daily tidbits. And, in case any problems arise, they can also be handled promptly and properly.

After listening to these words, the director and I nodded in agreement.

Director: Okay, so do you recommend anyone?

Kiro gave a slight smile, and then those azure blue eyes fell on me.

Kiro: I think the most suitable candidate is….my boss! 

After the director listened, she looked at me with a little astonishment.

My eyes widened slightly, and I couldn’t speak due to the surprise.

Kiro: Believe me, she is the best candidate.

Kiro: She is an excellent producer and is also very familiar with the shooting process.

Kiro: More importantly, she can handle various emergencies with her ability.

Kiro: With her, I feel at ease. 

He stretched out his palm to calculate the “pros” of me a little bit. Seeing everyone’s eyes cast on me, I lowered my eyes to weigh the “pros and cons” of this plan.

Suddenly, Kiro bent over and came into my peripheral vision.

The golden hair that was swept down from his forehead swayed playfully, gradually occupying my gaze.

I raised my eyes to meet those bright eyes and heard him speak in a voice that only I could hear.

Kiro: MC, will you be my classmate? 

(Cut to campus)

The moment Kiro and I walked into the school’s office early on Monday morning, the world suddenly became quiet.

I couldn’t help rubbing my ears; it felt as though the screams of the students were still echoing in my ears.

Unexpectedly, even though the exciting news was given in advance, the enthusiasm of the students was still overwhelming. *Changed some wording*

But looking at the familiar and unfamiliar surroundings, I couldn’t help sighing in my heart--

In the end, I still agreed to their suggestion “confusedly”...

Teacher: The formalities have been completed, so come with me.

A simple and powerful voice immediately pulled me back from my thoughts.

While I was following the teacher, the security guard turned towards Kiro beside me.

He was wearing a clean white shirt and pants for his school uniform. Even his golden bangs were slicked back. *Changed some wording*

The sun fell on his hair, spots of light scattered over it.

Seeing that I was about to arrive at the classroom, I had to withdraw my eyes somewhat reluctantly.

(Cut to the classroom)

The moment we walked into the classroom, all the students turned their eyes towards Kiro. As if they couldn’t contain their excitement, they whispered amongst each other.

Student A: Ah, it’s really Kiro!

Student B: We’re so lucky that he came to our class!

Teacher: Students, be quiet!

The teacher knocked hard on the table, but the students still couldn’t hold back their excited chatter.

Teacher: No matter how excited you are, you have to listen to the introduction of your new classmates.

The teacher seemed to understand the mindset of the students very well, and as soon as the voice fell in the classroom, it was silent.

Teacher: Classmates, please introduce yourselves.

Kiro took the lead in taking a step forward, showing a bright smile.

Kiro: Hello, everyone. I am Kiro.

Kiro: Because of work, I now want to spend a week as a student here with everyone. 

Kiro: So, please forget my previous “identity”. I am just your classmate now.

Kiro: I hope I can spend a very happy week with you. Please give me your guidance.

Kiro seemed to have made an agreement and lowered his eyes.

I don’t know if it was because Kiro’s voice was magical; the students nodded obediently and slowly calmed down.

But soon their curious eyes fell on me. I gave a smile and said,

MC: Hello, everyone. I’m MC. Please give me your guidance for this coming week~

After the ceremonial applause was over, Kiro and I sat in the last row of empty seats.

As soon as I sat down, a few crisp claps came from the direction of the podium.

Teacher: Students, the annual art festival will soon start.

Teacher: We will also give a performance and decorate the campus in accordance with tradition. 

Teacher: I heard that Kiro loves music very much. He will be responsible for this year’s art festival. Do you have any objections?

Students: No!

Students: With him, our festival must be the most brilliant!

Everyone turned around unanimously and looked at Kiro expectantly.

The sunlight reflected on Kiro’s brand-new white shirt, and the reflection off of it seemed to light up the entire classroom.

He straightened up, and the corner of his mouth raised up into a sincere smile.

Kiro: Okay. Everyone, leave it to me! 

[Stage 2]

Internet age. Be comfortable with various situations. *It came out like this so I’m hoping this makes sense lol*

Kiro has been very busy these days. He has to arrange the art festival and attend classes on top of that.

Looking at Kiro, who was lying on the table during the break, I gently took out the disposable camera from my bag and pointed it at him.

In the picture, he is lying on his arm lazily, with long eyelashes, and his face squished.

Suddenly, his eyelashes trembled and he opened his blue eyes.

Kiro: Miss Chips, has class started yet? 

There was a trace of longing for sleep in his voice, which made me laugh.

MC: Not yet, you….

Ring--

Halfway through our conversation, the school bell rang in the classroom.

Unexpectedly, he swept away his tiredness and immediately sat up straight in excitement.

Kiro: After this class is a music class. This is the first time I have a music class in a private high school! 

He is like a child who is about to get a toy, his eyes full of unconcealed anticipation.

There were neat footsteps in the corridor, and the teacher soon walked in.

Teacher: There is still a lot to do for this semester. We will have two consecutive classes today and cancel the next music class.

As soon as the voice fell, voices of complaint were heard all over the classroom.

I looked to Kiro but found that he was a little bit frustrated and turned his head. 

Immediately afterwards, his elbow crossed the middle line and was propped up on my table. He lowered his voice.

Kiro: MC, the music class will be cancelled. Is this reasonable?

I nodded to the person who reached over and cast a regretful look at him.

Kiro: Is there no other way? How did you solve it before?

Suddenly, a white piece of chalk hit his head, leaving a small mark.

Teacher: Class time! Go out and talk.

Kiro rubbed his head aggrievedly and put his hands on his desk obediently.

Teacher: The book, do you want me to get it out for you?

Kiro immediately lowered his head and fumbled in the drawer for a long time and then cast a look at me asking for help.

He just moved his lips, and then followed the teacher with some fear. He picked up the pen and quickly wrote something on the notebook.

After a little bit, a small piece of paper was gently pushed in front of me--

“Miss Chips, what kind of class is this? OvO”

I held the note silently, pretending to be note-taking, and wrote a word in big letters on the note--

“Language.”

[Stage 3]

Helping Kiro organize the school’s art festival can be thought of as filling in something that was not possible before.

The bell finally rang and I turned my head to find that Kiro’s figure had disappeared at the door of the classroom.

Maybe he went to the bathroom….

I didn’t worry too much about it and lay on the table lazily.

MC: Did class time ever pass by this slowly before? 

I closed my eyes with ease. I don’t know how long I was out until there was a sudden rush of footsteps outside the door.

Kiro: We’re going to music class! 

I opened my eyes in surprise, only to find that the students had surrounded Kiro.

Student A: Wow, awesome! She’s normally what we would consider “unreasonable”. *Changed some wording*

Student B: How did you do it? Quickly teach us!

With every word, the students said, Kiro held his chin pretentiously.

Kiro: Actually, it’s very simple. I just used my role as the person in charge of the festival and confidently asked for music class back! 

Kiro: Learning is important, but it also requires a combination of work and rest! 

Soon, the class bell rang again, and the students waved their arms excitedly.

Teacher: Walk nicely and go to music class--

The sound of youthful and restless footsteps disappeared one after another from the classroom, leaving only me and Kiro.

He walked up to me in the sunlight and patted my shoulder lightly.

Kiro: Let’s go, it’s time to go to class. 

He smiled so brightly, the previous bright smile from before remained on his face.

I looked at Kiro who was so dazzling, and I couldn’t open my eyes for a little bit.

I couldn’t help but look at my school uniform, and suddenly laughed.

Kiro: Miss Classmate, what’s up? 

I shook my head without speaking, got up and walked to his side.

MC: Classmate Kiro, let’s go~

I walked briskly out of the classroom, and Kiro followed me closely.

The sunlight pierced through the gaps of the leaves and fell on the corridor, printing a bit of staggered light and shadow.

With the position of the light, his mouth seemed to rise to the same arc as mine.

I can’t help wondering if Kiro and I are both happy about the same thing in our hearts--

I’m glad that I can be a classmate in this time and space with you.

[Stage 4]

Every story will have an ending, just as the cold winter must usher in the spring.

Since I started preparing for the festival’s activities, everyone will seemingly purposely stay after class to help out every day.

I walked around the corner with the camera, recording Kiro’s every move.

Although he was wearing a school uniform and seemed no different from this group of high school students, he still had an aura of maturity.

Kiro looked around and said,

Kiro: Some classmates told me in private that they didn’t like to perform on stage very much. 

Kiro: So, those who don’t want to perform on stage, please raise your hands!

When his voice fell, the students laughed at each other and did nothing else for a while.

Kiro seemed to be aware of some of the students’ worries and timidity. So, he let out a long sigh and spoke softly.

Kiro: Although the art festival is a collaborative event, it doesn’t necessarily require everyone to perform on stage.

Kiro: Because I always think that it is embarrassing to “force” myself to do things I don’t want to do.

In the camera, although the corners of his mouth were raised in a smile, his eyes flashed with dim light.

Kiro: Don’t forget that we also have the task of decorating the campus. It is also one of the collaborative activities, isn’t it?

Kiro: So raise your hand loud and proud!

After some silence, a trembling hand finally was raised into the air. Immediately afterward, about seven or eight hands were raised one after another.

The remaining classmates who did not raise their hands seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and smiled brightly when they looked at the raised hands.

Student A: The task of decorating the campus is up to you.

Student B: Well, if you don’t have enough manpower, we will help!

Seeing them in a passionate discussion, the corners of my mouth rose unconsciously.

Suddenly, a familiar golden figure drew me into the crowd.

Kiro: Classmate, I need your help. 

He leaned into my ear and whispered something.

I couldn’t help looking at him in surprise, my mouth moved slightly.

MC: How to help?

He smiled and turned his head, the setting sun outside the window happened to fall into his deep ocean eyes, reflecting the charming colours.

Kiro: Of course to help! 

After sorting out the desires of all the students, Kiro and I divided them into two teams.

One is in charge of the show and the other is in charge of decorating the campus. In order to improve efficiency, I took the initiative to propose a team responsible for decoration.

MC: First of all, we must make a list of props and strictly manage our budget according to a certain proportion of class fees.

To help everyone understand more clearly, I drew a simple budget sheet on the blackboard.

It wasn’t until I put down the chalk and turned to face everyone, that I found everyone was casting admiring glances.

Students: That’s so amazing….You made it look so easy!! *Changed some wording*

I smiled embarrassedly, but Kiro beside me patted my shoulder with some pride.

Kiro: She is an excellent producer. 

Kiro: So don’t worry, leave it to us.

Kiro: Although there’s no guarantee that our class’ performance will be the best.

Kiro: It will definitely make everyone the happiest!

[Stage 5]

Operation school is a go. *Changed some wording.*

There are new messages.

*I had trouble with this part so hopefully it makes sense when you read it. I’ll put the screenshots in below so you can see those too.*

Miss Producer, 

There’s some good news for you, the show has been arranged! I compiled a lot of tips from countless stages experiences. I believe that the effect will reach the audience by then!

When the art festival begins, that’s when we’ll “graduate”, right? I don’t have any regrets. I feel that high school life in China is like this; it’s better than I thought and even happier! I wonder if you have the same thought?

Reply:

0(n_n)0~

[Stage 6]

Good actors will blend right into the play. *Changed some wording.*

The school bell rang, and I looked at the books on the desk and stuffed them into my bag with some reluctance.

The day after tomorrow, the high school life experience with Kiro and I will end.

Thinking of this, I subconsciously looked to the side and found that Kiro seemed to show the same expression as me.

He smoothed some of the curled corners of the book, and his curled eyelashes were downcast.

Kiro: Class is over. Let’s go. 

I nodded, picked up my bag and walked out with him.

(Cut to outside)

As soon as we walked to the gate of the school, we saw students from a distance stopping us.

Students: Although there is still some time before the art festival, you will be leaving soon.

Students: So we specifically asked the teacher for the chance to rehearse in advance and wanted to invite you to join us!

I couldn’t help but freeze just as I was about to say something.

Kiro raised his hand and rubbed the back of his head, then smiled handsomely.

Kiro: Where is the rehearsal hall? Let’s hurry up!

(Cut to rehearsal hall)

Kiro was standing in the center of the stage wearing a white school uniform, and my thoughts were suddenly taken back to California.

Although I wasn’t there to see him attending school in California, the figure in front of me depicts my imagination of his past.

He must not have been too different back then from how he is now. He was so dazzling that people couldn’t look away.

Kiro: MC!

A voice from a distance drew me back to reality.

Kiro: Come on up!

I walked onto the stage with some hesitancy, but he grabbed my arm tightly.

Kiro: Today is our first and last rehearsal. Don’t be lazy.

MC: Wait, I don’t have a place in the performance….

Before I finished speaking, I was pulled up onto the stage.

Kiro: Haha, I actually don’t have a place either. 

Kiro: But it doesn’t matter, let’s just be two cute little actors.

Kiro swayed lightly to the rhythm of the music, and the lights of the stage made him brighter than ever.

Suddenly, the stage light changed colours randomly, as if something unexpected happened.

The students stopped and looked around for the theatre staff. But it seemed that it was because it was lunchtime, there was no one in the booth.

Seeing everyone looking anxious, I hurriedly said,

MC: Someone take me to the booth, let me try to solve it.

One of the students stood up, and I followed her to the booth.

I walked to the booth and looked. The functions on it were similar to what I was used to at the TV station.

I let out a sigh of relief and after a few skilled operations, the stage lights returned to normal.

MC: Classmates, you should go back to the stage first. I will help you with the stage for the time being until the stage staff return.

After speaking, I pressed the PA button.

MC: Let’s rehearse again. I can clearly see whether the formation is neat or not.

MC: If you have any questions, I will give you feedback.

MC: 3, 2, 1, Start. 

As soon as my voice fell, I immediately pressed the music play button.

Suddenly, a similar touch of gold in the distance bounced into my sight.

But my position was too far away from the stage, and I couldn’t see Kiro’s expression clearly.

He raised a hand high and seemed to make a gesture.

I couldn’t help squinting my eyes, trying to see his gesture clearly--

A thumb was raised high and shook excitedly at me.

[Stage 7]

High school life ended in the blink of an eye. Kiro and I went to the conference room as scheduled and handed in the “answer sheet”.

Director: Kiro, how was your experience this week? Do you think it will be helpful for the shooting?

Kiro lowered his eyes as if he was thinking, but the corners of his mouth had already “betrayed” him….

Kiro: Actually, high school life in China is not very different from that in foreign countries, but I am very happy.

Kiro: Because I have new wonderful memories of high school.

Kiro stopped suddenly and raised his eyes to look at me.

Kiro: The teachers in China are excellent, and sneaking snacks requires super skill to succeed. 

Kiro: And if you whisper in class, you will be hit with chalk.

Kiro: But MC taught me to use a small note to communicate so you’re less likely to get caught.

Seeing Kiro’s “blabbermouth”, I quickly gave him a look.

He seemed to have received my signal and snickered uncontrollably.

Kiro: Ahem, but what I am happiest about is that I feel the beauty of youth again.

Kiro: The beauty of being a student feels purer now as an adult. 

Kiro: In fact, this purity has always been there, but it was in slumber.

Kiro: Therefore, we must work hard to wake it up and let it revisit the world. 

Kiro’s eyes creased in a smile as if to express his satisfaction of this time.

Memories are always full of filters, painting the time called “youth” with soft and bright colours.

It is flawless and pure, representing all the cleanliness and beauty. It is far away and unreachable as if some beauty can only stay for that period of time.

But people have forgotten that we should have this purity, even more, when we grow up.

When facing this complicated world, we shouldn’t take it for granted.

Looking at his smile, the figure in the white school uniform came to mind again.

It is like the brilliant sun shining everywhere in my heart, making people nostalgic and looking forward to the future.

I can’t help but believe this dazzling figure will meet me in various forms in the future.

The meeting ended in joy, and only me and Kiro were left in the room.

MC: Kiro, let’s wait a bit before leaving.

I took out the USB drive in my pocket and inserted it into the computer, and then turned on the projector.

MC: I have a small gift I want to give you. 

After that, a video popped up on the projector background, which was a recording of Kiro’s high school life this week--

There’s footage of him running in the courtyard in his school uniform, and footage of him dozing off with his head on his arm.

And the look of my school bag on his shoulders.

Even the footage of him “copying his homework” was left guilty as evidence by me.

Kiro: Miss Chips…. 

He watched the video with a look of surprise and murmured to me.

MC: Although it was only a short experience, this is the first time you and I have been classmates.

MC: So I want to keep this memory forever and ever. 

Until the video was finished, I looked at the picture in the last frame with nostalgia--

Me in school uniform, and him in school uniform.

We faced the camera and raised our brightest smiles.

This gift isn’t to make up the regret of youth but rather to record the me I was then and the me I am now.

Although we have grown up, we can still depict the youthfulness of Kiro and me at this moment.

Suddenly, Kiro walked right in front of me.

Kiro: Thank you, I really like this gift. 

Kiro: But I didn’t expect Miss Chips’ gift to down without my knowledge. 

With that said, he took out two small student name tags one by one from his pocket--

The names of Kiro and me are engraved on them.

At that time, due to the rush and short-term “entry”, the school did not prepare a name tag for us.

But at this moment, the name tag in Kiro’s hand seemed to reflect the light of the projector, reflecting a beautiful brilliance.

Kiro: MC, although the time was short, we really did become classmates.

Kiro: And you see, this is proof. 

[End]

We went to the high school campus to experience high school life once more. The purpose of this experience was to add more vivid details to the youth drama that was to be filmed. But this wonderful time and the infinite expectations for the future at this moment will be deeply imprinted in my mind.

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 1: Long Spring

Narrated by Qing Yumo.

Qing Yumo: “In verdant woods, the birds sing among flowers.”

Narrator: Gazing out of a window one lazy spring afternoon, I recited an old Cloud Empire poem.

Narrator: Yes, I should use that as the theme for the Spring Culture Festival.

Narrator: The planning for this year’s festival is near completion. I should be able to relax and take it easy for a while.

Narrator: It’s also time to prepare the wardrobe for the season.

Narrator: Seasons change, and that means we must seize the moment and keep up with time.

Narrator: Like this design.

Narrator: Rummaging through the closet, I found a Cloud Spring dress I had neglected for a long time.

Narrator: For some reason, I decided to wear it for that day.

Qing Yumo: Hmm, let’s go with this.

Narrator: The trees outside the Culture Bureau building are full of flowers today.

Narrator: I walked into the office.

Narrator: Am I seeing things? Why are people at the office staring at me today?

Narrator: Is anything wrong with how I’m dressed? I don’t feel that way...

Huahua: Good morning, Director... (gasps)

Narrator: She seemed very surprised.

Qing Yumo: Morning. What’s wrong?

Huahua: Nothing... I just thought you look spectacular in that outfit today!

Colleague A: Yeah, that’s a stunning design. Common materials simply cannot convey such elegance and sense of intricacy.

Colleague B: Is it one of your new designs?

Qing Yumo: Actually, it’s an old one from years ago.

Huahua: Really? I haven’t seen such fine fabric in Cloud Empire in recent years.

Colleague A:That’s not Cloud Spring, the legendary satin supposedly weaved from rosy clouds, is it?

Huahua: Cloud Spring?!

Qing Yumo: It is Cloud Spring, but the story is definitely an exaggeration.

Huahua: Oh my, never thought I’d ever get a glance of something made from Cloud Spring! You truly lived up to your name!

Qing Yumo: All right, let’s get down to business...

Narrator: The meeting ended.

Huahua: Phew. Finally, it’s over. That was a chore.

Huahua: Oh, have you heard about the romance reading that’s going around?

Colleague B: Romance reading?

Huahua: Yeah, the super accurate Spring-only romance reading, available online, too.

Colleague A: Hey, I should try it!

Colleague B: Me too...

Narrator: For some reasons, that had everyone excited.

Narrator: As for me...

Narrator: “Romance reading?” That doesn’t interest me one bit.

Huahua: I made sure to send you a link, too, Director!

Qing Yumo: ...

Huahua: Director?

Qing Yumo: I’m all right. Just a reminder to please not have non-work-related conversations during office hours.

Choose either “Have you ever given any thought to romance?” or “Do you believe in fortune telling?”

If “romance,” ...

You: So, is the pretty girl interested in falling in love?

Narrator: All good things happen naturally.

If “fortune telling,” ...

You: Do you believe in fortune telling?

Narrator: Aren’t those online readings nothing but bogus? Only bored people would click on them.

--

Narrator: Got back home after work.

Narrator: “Most Accurate Spring-Only Romance Reading.”

Narrator: I have no particular thoughts on either romance or fortune-telling. I only clicked the link by accident.

Narrator: As for love numerology, compatibility results, and other things, I looked at their advertisements.

Narrator: I got to the page. The graphic design did nothing to evoke feelings of love or romance at all.

Narrator: My first recommendation for the site would be to get a new web designer.

Narrator: “Start.”

Narrator: I didn’t want to click it, but apparently that was my only option.

Narrator: “Time and Date of Birth.”

Narrator: “Romantic History.”

Narrator: “Your Type.”

Narrator: ...

Narrator: Compared to other online readings, it sure asked a lot more.

Narrator: Generating Reading...

Narrator: (Waiting...)

Narrator: Your result is...

Narrator: “Wisteria - Hidden Secret...”

Narrator: Wisteria?

Narrator: I lowered my head and saw the wisteria pattern on my dress.

Narrator: Was it a coincidence? About that encounter...

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

[alt-rose]

a trip to syracuse - colson baker

colson baker imagine

a trip to syracuse - a trip to syracuse leads to a cameo and a heart to heart.

word count: 4.9K (someone stop me)

the scene is in big time adolescence. if you haven’t seen it, i highly recommend. it’s on hulu. 

(this could be considered a part 2 to 21, but it could be read alone)

(GIF from tenor)

it was July. you had spent your last few months working your ass off at SNL before staring as a lead in your first comedy film after your second season of SNL had ended. you had been all over the country in the last few months. you were in New York for work. then, you traveled home to your hometown to visit your family during your first week of the summer hiatus. then, you had to ship out to LA to work on your movie. then, you somehow ended back in your hometown.

you were everywhere. busy. never had time for yourself, or the time to do what you really wanted.

you hadn’t seen Colson since a few weeks after your birthday weekend. you texted back and forth. you called occasionally when you both had time. he made you laugh, and you, of course, enjoyed hearing about all his crazy stories. you looked forward to the random pictures he sent you from the studio or from set. he liked having something to share with someone, or rather, someone to share things with.

the two of you were like two best friends that could share everything with each other without needing to be physically there for each other. you could go days without talking because of your busy schedules, yet whenever you caught up with each other, it felt so natural. your relationship felt impossible to explain to anyone that asked. you felt connected to him somehow, but you couldn’t place the feeling.

--

             colson baker: you should come visit me

that was the text you got at 3 am on a Wednesday, well technically Thursday.

you smiled at your phone as you stared at it. the light blinded you as you laid in bed in your dark bedroom at your parent’s house. it was 4 am in New York. what could he have possibly been doing? you learned not to ask that question often when it came to Colson and Pete. they were night owls and tended to drink or smoke anything they could get their hands on. for your sake, you’d rather not know what they were doing. it helped keep your nerves at bay.

however, 4 am in New York tended to worry you a bit. you opened your phone, squinting as the light grew brighter. you began to type back.

             you: I should?

             you: please tell me you are being safe

you scrolled through your phone as you waited for a response. your phone buzzed with a notification. you opened the message.

             colson baker: safe at pete’s place

ah. Pete’s place was their new hangout. Pete was staying with his girlfriend, AG, as you called her, and it was technically her place. they were getting ready to head to Syracuse in a week or so for Pete’s new movie that Colson was making a cameo in.

             colson baker: you should visit

             colson baker: call me a pussy but I miss you

you smiled at that text. he missed you. your heart thumped in your chest.

             you: I miss you too

             you: text me tomorrow when you are sober and it’s not the middle of the night.

             you: let’s see if sober colson wants me to visit

you watched as the typing bubbles appeared before the message appeared.

             colson baker: sober colson said yes

             colson baker: but, I’ll text you tomorrow about it

you laugh at his message before typing back.

             you: goodnight cols

             you: get some rest

your eyes began to lull shut, but you were determined to stay up for the next ten minutes in case he wanted to text you.

you fell asleep to one finally message from him.

             colson baker: goodnight velcro monkey

somehow the velcro monkey joke always made an appearance when someone was drunk or high. it made them laugh at how the reserved, independent person you were could turn into the clingiest drunk on the planet.

you smiled one last time before shutting off your phone and going back to sleep.

--

the next morning, you sat in your parents’ kitchen answering emails on your laptop. your attention was occasionally pulled away from work as you watched your dogs play in the family room. it was good to be home for a bit, but your parents and dogs were a bit distracting when it came time to work.

             “your phone has been buzzing for the last 20 minutes,” you mom said setting your phone down at the kitchen table. “you left this upstairs.”

             “god, thank you,” you tell her not looking up from your computer.

             “a lot of messages from a Colson Baker,” she gives you a look, raising her eyebrow.

             “who’s Colson Baker?” your dad asked butting into the conversation as he made his way into the kitchen.

you moved to quickly snatch you phone from them. you were an adult now with an adult job, yet they still treated you like a teenager.

             “a friend,” you reply as you opened your phone.

you had four messages and a missed call from Colson.

             “seemed like they really wanted to get a hold of you,” you mom hummed as she moved to make her third cup of coffee that day.

             “why do they want to get a hold of you so badly? seems important,” your dad chimed in.

             “guys, it’s fine. please chill,” you reply. “just a friend. anyway, I have to take this call.”

you got up from the table before taking your dogs out to your back patio. you took a seat on one of the outdoor lounges as you called Colson.

             “hey,” his raspy voice rang through the phone.

             “hey,” you sigh. “what’s up with Syracuse?”

             “you should come visit me in Syracuse.”

             “I know, but why Syracuse?” you laugh.

             “Pete’s doing his movie, and we’re both making a cameo.”

you went silent for a bit.

             “we talked to the director this morning. they need background for my cameo scene, so I suggested you to Pete, and he was cool with it. the director said it was cool if you wanted to join the project for a cameo.”

             “are you serious?”

             “deadly. come spend the rest of the summer in Syracuse with me.”

             “I’ll have to check my schedule-”

             “shut up,” he laughed. “I know you’re free.”

             “you’re right,” you sighed. “my family isn’t going to be happy with me leaving again, but they can just visit when SNL starts back up.”

             “so you’ll do it?”

             “sure, what else do I have to do?” you asked adjusting the phone to your ear. “plus, a week or two in Syracuse with you and Pete would be fun.”

             “YES,” you heard him shout over the phone. “aight, cool,” he finally calms down. “I’ll let Pete know.”

             “alright, Cols. sounds good,” you sigh into the phone.

             “what’s wrong?” he asked after a beat.

             “nothing. I’m just trying to figure out how to explain why a Colson Baker was blowing up my phone earlier to my parents.”

you heard him let out a laugh from his end. you heard him murmur something to someone. you heard him laugh once more before he addressed you.

             “Pete said to tell your parents that I’m your dealer.”

             “tell Pete that my parents might have a heart attack.”

you heard him mumble something before you heard a roar of voices.

             “tell your parents that Colson works as a janitor for NBC,” you heard Pete yell into the phone.

             “you guys are ridiculous,” you sigh into the phone as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

             “but you love us,” Pete sang into the phone.

             “yeah, I do.”

you heard them laugh.

             “you could just tell you parents the truth,” Colson suggested. “I don’t mind your family knowing. the whole reason we were keeping it quiet was to keep you out of the spotlight.”

you thought about it for a minute.

             “and what exactly are we keeping from her family?” you heard Pete in the background.

             “that I’m her best friend now. I replaced you,” Colson quickly replied.

             “HEY,” you yelled sitting up in your seat. “I never said that.”

             “it’s okay,” Pete said louder into the phone. you can only assume he was closer to the phone. “I know you love him more than me.”

             “that’s not true,” you said in a defensive tone. “I love you both equally.”

             “RIIIIIGHT,” Pete drew through the phone.

             “right,” Colson agreed.

             “it’s okay. I know who you text when you’re supposed to be working, (y/n),” Pete slyly said in the phone.

             “knock it off, Pete,” you growl into the phone, causing the guys to laugh. “where’s your girlfriend? can’t you go bother her?”

             “oh shit,” you heard Pete say. “I forgot to bring her the food we made. bye (y/n).”

you laughed at him before you heard Colson.

             “I took you off speaker. he went back into his room with the food.”

             “you guys made breakfast?”

             “yeah, our post-mushroom pancakes,” he said. “totally came down from them a half hour ago. the food’s probably cold as shit now.”

             “RIP to AG’s kitchen.”

             “RIP, indeed.”

you laughed.

             “I can’t wait to see you, Cols,” you smile into the phone.

             “I’m excited to see you, too. I’ll send you a plane ticket.”

             “I can pay for my own plane ticket. it’s okay,” you reply. “you can save that up to buy me dinner when I get to Syracuse.”

             “(y/n) (y/l/n), are you asking me on a date?”

             “too forward?” you laugh.

             “not forward enough. maybe, I could buy you breakfast too?”

you laugh and cover your mouth with his suggestion before you finally calm yourself down.

             “maybe you could,” you reply coolly.

             “NOOOO,” he whined into the phone. “can you come to New York now?”

you laughed together before the conversation lulled into a gentle silence.

             “can I tell you a secret?” you whisper into the phone.

             “shoot.”

             “I’ve been listening to your music.”

you paused waiting for his reaction.

             “oh boy, have I converted you to hip hop and rap?”

             “no, I made an exception for Machine Gun Kelly,” you smile.

             “really?” you could hear him shift around. “got a favorite?”

             “27,” you reply too quickly. “I’m a sucker for the piano. Kiss the Sky and Habit are pretty good too.”

             “next show I have, you’re gonna be in the crowd. I want to perform for you.”

             “for me?” you ask in a posh voice. “you could always give me a private show.”

             “I just might.”

suddenly, your attention was pulled to your mom who was standing at the back door. you raise an eyebrow at her as you listened to Colson mumble through the phone.

             “hold on, Cols,” you tell him. “what’s up?” you ask her.

             “we’re leaving in a half an hour to go to dinner at your grandparents. you need to get ready,” she replied.

you nod to her. she stood in the doorway waiting for you to get off the phone. you raised another eyebrow at her. she wanted to eavesdrop on your conversation.

             “alright,” you sigh. “Cols, I have to go. I have dinner with my grandparents.”

             “fine. fine. call me later?”

             “yeah, I’ll call you later.”

             “bye (y/n), love you.”

you smiled at that. even though the love was platonic, it felt good to hear it from him.

             “bye Cols, love you too.”

once you hung up, you gave your mom a pointed look.

             “love, huh?” she smiled.

             “just a friend,” you mutter before calling the dogs in.

             “just a friend that you love,” she teased.

             “so who is Colson Baker?” your dad chimed in once the two of you made it inside.

             “he’s a friend of Pete and I,” you reply heading to the stairs.

             “what does he do?” your dad asked looking up from his phone.

             “just look him up. I have to get ready.”

once you safely made it up the stairs and away from their questions, you began to rummage through your closet for clothes. you were pulled out of your search by your dad yelling up the stairs.

             “MACHINE GUN KELLY. YOU’RE FRIENDS WITH MACHINE GUN KELLY?”

--

a week and a half later, you were on a plane to Syracuse. your parents weren’t super hip about you leaving so soon, but you argued that it was for work. and, it was. you weren’t lying.

they also were not so happy about your friendship with Colson, or Machine Gun Kelly as they knew him. your mom argued for the tattoos, which made no sense, since they liked Pete, and he had tattoos. they were also not so impressed that he was a rapper.

maybe, you shouldn’t have let them read all the articles about him.

he was heavily misunderstood by the media, and Colson was not ‘Machine Gun Kelly’. he was Colson Baker. you tried to explain that he was so much more than what the media portrayed, but your parents were more of the seeing rather than believing type.

with that all said, you were happy to be out of the house. you were tired of constantly arguing for and defending your friendship. anytime you got super defensive of Colson, your family accused you of being in love with him. were you? hell yeah. but, you weren’t going to admit that to anyone. you ran from your feelings, remember?

once you finally landed at the airport in Syracuse, you texted the guys.

             colson baker: in line waiting for you

             colson baker: north pick up line

             colson baker: black escalade

when you finally made it out the doors with your baggage, you searched for the black escalade. you attention was pulled to the sound of doors opening, and you found Colson on the passenger side of the car as Pete climbed into the backseat. you smiled as you watched the guys. you made your way to them.

             “hi,” you smile.

             “hi,” Colson replied looking down at you.

you kinda forgot what it was like to be around six-foot giants. Colson moved to take your bag from you before putting it in the trunk. after you helped him load up your bag, he took your hand and led you to the passenger seat.

before you could hop in, he grabbed you and kissed you. you moved to grip the fabric of his jacket as you kissed him back.

             “did you just kiss her? what? did he just kiss you?” Pete asked dumbfounded from the backseat as he looked back and forth from you and Colson.

you laughed to yourself as you buckled your seat belt while Colson made his way to the driver’s seat. as he hopped in and buckled up, he turned to you. you laughed before turning to Pete.

             “anyone want to answer me? did you kiss her?” Pete said slapping Colson’s shoulder with the back of his hand.

             “yeah, I did. what are you going to do about it?” Colson raised an eyebrow at him.

you laughed picking at the skin of your lip.

             “what the hell? am I third wheeling this whole trip?”

             “dude, you would have had me third wheeling this whole trip if we didn’t invite her.”

             “how long?” Pete whined. “how long has this been a thing?”

             “since my birthday,” you reply quietly.

             “since your birthday,” he said dropping his jaw. “that was months ago.”

             “I know,” you laugh. “to be fair, we haven’t seen each other much since. we’ve been talking and stuff, though.”

             “what the hell, guys.”

you and Colson both laughed as he pulled out of his spot in line and drove toward your hotel.

             “oh, I told my parents about you, and they googled you. they aren’t very happy.”

             “fantastic.”

--

you spent your first day on set waiting around for the guys in Pete’s trailer before your call time. you and Colson sat and talked, just being close to each other after months apart. once it was finally your call time, you got your makeup and hair done, which wasn’t much considering you were just an extra in a scene.

the director had you placed at a bar table with two other girls. drinks were all placed in front of you. you fixed your hair a bit before the director called action. the scene began and you just kept your head down, while you waited for your cue. one of the guys walked up to your table and began talking to the three of you. the camera panned over to your table, and the guy began his lines. you smiled and laughed at him.

             “I already have a tab open so if you want another-”

             “hey,” Pete yelled catching your attention. “I’m sorry about our friend. we found him in a dumpster. he’s a rescue. sorry”

             “it’s okay,” the girl next to you yelled.

             “aw don’t worry. he’s got all of his shots though, so he won’t bite,” Pete called back.

             “oh,” the girl laughed. “what about your puppy?”

             “who? Mo?”

             “yeah, he looks a little young to be in here.”

             “you look a little old to be in here,” Pete shot back. you had to hold in your laugh.

             “CUT,” the director yelled. “let’s do it one more time, just in case, and then move on.”

you repeated the scene once more before everyone moved on to the next part of your scene. the guys all crowded around your small table. Colson stood behind Pete, who was sitting on one of the barstools.

             “you guys look great. can we get another girl on the other side of Griffin please?” the director asked, gesturing to the second lead in the film. “(y/n), can you move?”

             “yeah,” you reply before hopping out of your seat to sit on the other side of Griffin. you then realized that you were directly in the camera’s line of vision.

you looked up at Colson who was across the table from you. he sent you a wink before taking a drink of whatever liquid was in his glass. you smiled back at him before Pete reached across the table to fist bump you. you laughed at him before getting ready for the scene.

the director moved back and called “Action.”

             “Mo actually got back from the army,” Pete started his lines.

             “yeah?” you respond.

             “yeah, he was there for 16 years,” Pete replied to you.

             “let’s not talk about, yeah,” Griffin responded giving Pete and Colson a look.

             “anyway, yeah, he hasn’t been laid in 16 years. how crazy is that?” Pete said before Colson could interrupt him.

             “aye, to Mo,” Colson said bring his glass in.

             “to Mo,” the table responded crashing the glasses together.

             “welcome back brother,” Colson said.

             “yeah, man.”

             “hoo-rah, right?” Colson said clinking his glass to yours.

             “hoo-rah,” Griffin cheered back.

             “hey, may we all make it to heaven before the devil knows we’re dead, baby,” Colson yelled.

             “YEAH,” Pete cheered back beating his chest like a frat boy.

             “cheers,” Griffin called before clinking his glass to yours.

             “wait. what does that mean?” Pete asked.

             “like, we’re sinners and-and-” Colson nodded his head. “and, bad motherfuckers, and he’s coming to suck us back…” Colson paused to do a little motion before continuing. “he wants us.”

             “isn’t that, like a Buzz Frontier song?” the other guy asked, and Colson looked up at him.

             “who wants us?” Pete interrupts looking at Colson. “what did he do? what did we do?”

             “Satan, motherfucker, wants us,” Colson said moving his head to emphasize each word.

he then bent his head back up before making eye contact with you. one of the other girls began to laugh, which caused the table to laugh with her. Colson sent you another wink, and you smiled back at him.

             “Cut,” the director called. “that was good. let’s do it one more time.”

--

you were sad that your scene was over. you liked working with Pete and Colson. after you finished getting out of your costume, you put your clothes back on before heading to Pete’s trailer. in there, Pete and Colson were lounging on the furniture.  

             “what are you two doing?” you laugh as you close the trailer door behind you.

             “waiting for you,” Pete shot back.

             “what’s the plan?” you asked taking a seat on the couch next to Colson.

he wrapped an arm around you.

             “I have to shoot for a few more hours, but we can meet up later,” Pete suggested.

             “do you want to go out?” Colson asked you. “while we wait.”

             “sure,” you nodded. “what time do you think you’ll be done?” you asked Pete.

             “not sure, but I’ll text you.” Pete stood up from his seat. “I have to get back, but I’ll see you later.”

             “aight,” Colson replied reaching to dab up Pete.

Pete took his hand before patting you on the head.

             “bye Pete,” you call to him as he leaves.

             “bye, be safe,” he laughs back at the two of you.

as you watched the door of the trailer shut, you felt a pair of eyes on you. you turned to find Colson staring down at you.

             “what?” you laugh at him. “do I have something on my face?”

             “no.” he gave you a small smile.

             “then, stop staring at me like that.”

             “staring at you like what?”

             “like that,” you said pointing at his face. “making me feel self-conscious.”

             “can’t help that you’re really pretty.”

             “and that’s my cue to go,” you say starting to get up from the couch.

Colson laughed behind you before pulling you back onto the couch.

             “do you want to go to the mall?” he asked smiling at you. “then I can take you out for that dinner you promised me.”

             “ohhhh, I guess I did promise you a dinner,” you hum. “let’s go then.”

--

             “try it on.”

             “no. did you see how many zeros were on that tag?”

             “jesus, just try it on.”

             “no.”

             “get in that goddamn dressing room and try on the goddamn dress,” Colson mutter quietly to you.

Colson had dragged you into some fancy boutique to “buy you a dress.” you resisted, of course, and the fact that he was so willing to buy you an expensive dress scared you. you were very responsible with your money, and you never splurged on yourself. this, of course, was not going over well with Colson now that you were refusing to even try on a dress that was more than a hundred dollars.

             “Colson, it’s really expensive,” you softly say looking up at him.

             “so?” he shrugged. “please let me buy you something nice.” he gave you the closest thing he could to ‘puppy dog eyes.’

             “jesus, fine,” you breathe pulling yourself from his eyes. “I’m trying it on, but if I don’t like it, you’re not buying it.”

             “scouts honor,” he said holding up his hand.

with that, you snatched the hot pink mini dress from his hands and marched toward the dressing room. you could hear Colson lightly laughing at you as he watched you.

once you made it into the dressing room, you took a seat on the bench. you put your head in your hands before taking a breath. were you doing this? yes, and it went against every bone in your body. after you settled yourself down, you began to take off your clothes before trying on the dress.

once you began to slip on the dress, you couldn’t get it to zip up. you tried every angle possible, but the zipper wouldn’t budge. you let out a heavy sigh before collecting yourself. you peeked through the sliver of the door to see if Colson was outside the dressing room. you found him browsing at a rack of clothes a few feet from your dressing room.

you opened the door by a crack before poking your head out.

             “Colson,” you whisper-yelled to him.

his head perked up before finding you. he began to stalk closer to you.

             “how does it look?” he asked when he got to you.

             “I think I need a bigger size,” you admitted to him.

             “I’ll go grab the next size up, but can I at least see it?”

             “no, it won’t zip up,” you shot back.

             “can I try?”

             “can you try?”

             “jesus christ,” he sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. “just turn around.”

you opened the door a bit more before turning around. you felt him place his hands on your hips before finding the zipper.

             “this should totally zip,” he whispered in your ear. “the zipper’s just stuck.”

you felt him move the zipper down before pulling it back up. the dress finally zipped.

you sighed once the dress finally fit properly. as you glanced in the mirror, you fell in love with the dress. you looked good. it was almost as if the dress was made for your body. it didn’t gap in weird places, and it wasn’t too snug. it felt perfect, and for its price, you were glad it was perfect. it would be a rip-off if it wasn’t.

             “damn,” Colson whispered.

             “damn,” you nodded.

             “you’re getting it.”

             “I’m not going to fight you on it,” you reply turning around to face him. “now, get out so I can get dressed.”

             “at least, let me unzip you first,” he laughed.

--

four hours and a shopping trip later, you and Colson were sitting in some fancy restaurant together. he was in a fashionable shirt and jacket while you sat in your hot pink mini dress.

             “thank you for dinner,” you say reaching across the table to take his hand.

             “you’re welcome,” he smiled at you after he handed the paid check back to the waitress. “I promised you a dinner, didn’t i?”

             “you did,” you laugh.

             “you wanna get out of here?” he suggests nodding toward the door.

             “sure,” you nod back.

with that, he moved to help you out of your chair. with his hand in yours, the two of you headed to his rental car. he opened the passenger door for you. before you could get in the car, you turned and placed a hand on his cheek.

his eyes met yours, and your heart melted. his hands landed on your waist, and he pulled you close before planting his lips on yours. you leaned up to kiss him back. and there you were, standing in the parking lot of a fancy restaurant making out like a bunch of teenagers.

--

at sunset, the two of you were sitting at the private rooftop patio of your hotel. you were both laying on one of the daybeds watching the sky change colors. you were deep in thought.

             “I’m scared,” you admit staring up at the sky.

             “scared?” Colson quietly asked you from where he was laying next to you.

             “yeah,” you breathe. “I don’t do relationships. I run from them. maybe it’s my fear of rejection or my fear of getting hurt.” you pause for a moment. “I really like you. like really, really like you. and part of me is scared because I don’t want to get hurt, but I want a relationship. I want love, you know?”

             “I get it,” he murmured next to you.

you were both at the point of the night where deep conversations were rolling. should you have been so honest with him? who knows. would you regret it tomorrow? maybe. but, right now, it had been said.

             “and, I want a relationship with you.” he rolled over on his side to face you. “I’m just scared because I don’t want to be just another girl for you. you buy me a pretty dress and take me to dinner with the hopes that I land in your bed tonight, and it makes me wonder,” you whisper.

you could feel his gaze. he took one of your hands and placed a kiss on the backside of it.

             “you and I both know my track record with relationships kinda suck,” he starts. “but, I want this to work.” he brushed a peace of hair from your face. “I’ve never felt this way with anyone, and I’m going to be completely honest when I say it scares the shit out of me. and, if it makes you more comfortable, we can take this relationship at whatever speed you want it to go. I just want to be with you. I want to make this work, and I want to be a part of your life. I want this relationship to be more than just texts at 4 am and kissing you once every three months.”

you were both quiet for a bit. you were processing what he had said. he wants this to work. he wants to be with you. he wants this relationship, and he wants it to be more.

             “I’m gonna fall in love with you if you keep saying shit like that,” you whisper after your moment of silence.

             “good,” he smiled placing a hand on your cheek. “because, I’m falling in love with you.”

your breath caught in your throat. you wrapped your arms around his neck before pulling him down to you. he placed his lips on yours and kissed you. laying there in the daybed, you kissed him back.

             “be my whatever,” he whispered.

             “be your whatever?” you ask raising an eyebrow.

             “yeah, whatever you want to call yourself. just be mine. be mine, baby.”

             “okay.”

and you kissed him once more.

.

.

.

not sure how i feel about this. hopefully, this does justice for a part two, anon. i hope you enjoyed. feel free to send requests. - rose xx

[hurricanery]

If You Went Away - pt. 6

A/N: Here’s part 6 of If You Went Away! Thank you for the encouraging messages <3 This fic might only have one or two more parts, but I have other exciting things planned!

Other parts here: part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5

-------

(present day)

“You look….cheerful?” Maggie gives Amelia a once over as the brunette walks into the attendings lounge.

Amelia squints back at her as she reaches for her purse and starts changing out of her scrubs. “I don’t know if cheerful is the right word, Maggie.”

“Okay….happier than usual as of late?”

Amelia smirks as she pulls her jacket on, then sits down to zip up her boots. She hadn’t realized her current emotional state was such a topic of conversation, or even observation.

“Scout’s got his last check up with Nico today. Right now, actually. So I’m out of here early.” She relaxes back into the seat.

“Oh? And where’s Link?” Maggie questions, sitting at the table across from Amelia.

“He’s in surgery. So it’s just me,” Amelia explains. “But, we’re just….excited he doesn’t have to have his arm wrapped up in that sling anymore. Especially for this weekend.”

“What’s this weekend?” Maggie’s eyebrows pull together in confusion and she watches as Amelia huffs out an exasperated sigh.

“Link’s parents' wedding….” Amelia mutters under her breath. If her outlook seemed cheerful when she walked into the room, it was definitely dwindling now.

“Oh my god, I totally forgot about that! I thought that already happened?”

“I wish,” Amelia breathes. “They started planning this years ago. But then, ya know, the whole pandemic….and some other stuff got in the way….but that’s all over now and they’re finally ready, I guess. And so….yeah, that’s happening this weekend….” She trails off, zoning out as she thinks about the event ahead.

There’s brief silence as Maggie watches her sister’s anxiety overcome her previously lighthearted disposition.

“How’s Link feeling about all of this?”

“Ha,” Amelia laughs sarcastically. “Not great. He still feels pretty….betrayed? By his parents? Maybe that’s the feeling?”

“Hm.” Maggie hums, digesting the information and slowly coming to terms with another realization about the situation.

“His parents put him through a lot,” Amelia explains, becoming more animated as she continues. “But I just keep trying to tell him not to take it so harshly....You know? I mean….they found their way back to each other after all this time. Why is that so bad?”

“Hmmmm,” Maggie hums again, drawing the sound out a bit more. She smirks, scanning Amelia’s face like she’s onto something.

“I mean, it’s kind of inspiring, right?”

Maggie pauses for a moment, deciding her next words. “Let me get this straight….you find it inspiring?”

Amelia shrugs, still not catching onto Maggie’s perception of her words.

“You find it inspiring….that two people can make their way back to each other after….certain difficulties?” Maggie smirks.

And Amelia frowns, the comprehension of Maggie’s attempt at an analogy settles in.

Maggie watches as Amelia’s face goes blank with realization. But then the brunette is standing up suddenly, pushing away from the table.

“Maggie no!” She throws her bag over her shoulder, getting ready to leave. “That’s not….no. That’s not what I’m saying. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“Hey,” Maggie smiles as she folds her arms across her chest, watching Amelia as she hurries towards the door. “You’re the one that said it. I’m just putting two and two together.”

Amelia turns around once more before reaching the door, but Maggie’s smug look causes her to roll her eyes. She pushes through the door, letting it slam shut harshly.

_______

The following day Amelia runs around the house anxiously, trying to make sure everyone is ready for the wedding.

“Scout!” She yells from the kitchen as Scout sits with his eyes glued to the TV. “Come on, time to get ready!”

After some convincing, Scout finally follows his mother up the stairs and into his bedroom.

“You can go back and watch your show once you get dressed, okay?” Amelia walks to the closet, pulling out a tiny suit jacket and matching pants. She smiles to herself as she pulls the garments from the hanger, running her hands over the fabric before laying them across Scout’s bed.

“Why do I have to wear that?” Scout whines.

“Because weddings are like fancy parties,” Amelia smiles as she crouches down to help Scout into his wedding attire.

Scout frowns, adjusting to the uncomfortable suit jacket that his arms have just been guided into.

“Why are Grandma and Grandpa having a wedding? Are they already husband and wife?”

“Well….” Amelia bites her lip. Mentally sighing at just how smart Scout can be sometimes.

“You can do a wedding as many times as you want?” He questions, squinting up at Amelia.

“Uh, yeah….” She slightly frowns at the accuracy of his question. It was an easier explanation than the reality. “Yeah, you can.”

“You and daddy aren’t married.” Scout says matter-of-factly.

“Um, no,” Amelia mutters as she begins helping Scout into his dress shoes. Her pulse quickens at the direction this conversation is taking.

“Why not?”

Amelia sighs, out loud this time. She hears the shower turn off in the next room and knows that Link is probably finishing up getting ready, while she remains completely unready.

“We just aren’t….” She offers shortly, standing up once she’s satisfied with how Scout’s outfit comes together. “Not everybody gets married.”

Scout looks up at her curiously. “But you said you can have as many weddings as you want. I think you and daddy should have a lotta weddings!”

Amelia can’t help but to laugh at this.

“Okay, buddy,” She grins down at him. “Let’s see how you like this wedding, first.”

“Can I go finish my show now?”

Amelia nods, and Scout takes off down the stairs while Amelia heads to get ready herself.

_______

45 minutes later and Amelia has her dress and heels on. She’s done her hair in soft waves and she’s just finishing up the final touches of her makeup when Link enters the bedroom, walking past the adjoining bathroom, Amelia hears him softly gasp.

She pauses her lipstick application, glancing at Link through the bathroom mirror. She raises her eyebrows at him.

“You look….” Link stutters, scratching at the back of his neck anxiously. “The dress…..the blue is a really nice color on you. You look really nice.” He shrugs, dropping his hands to the side.

Amelia suppresses a blush. It was a dress she’d worn to Alex and Jo’s wedding years ago. She was relieved at the chance to re-wear it, since nobody she knew would be at this wedding, or know she was recycling it for the occasion. She was just happy to not have to purchase another dress.

“Thank you,” She smiles slightly, resuming her task in the mirror. “So do you.” Her eyes dart back to him briefly. “I’m almost ready.”

“No rush.”

“Well, I don’t want to be late. So….there’s kind of a rush.” She laughs under her breath. “You’re just not excited about this at all, are you?”

Link sighs as he sits on the edge of the bed, still in Amelia’s line of sight through the mirror. He shakes his head. “No….but, starting now, I’m going to be positive about this.”

“Hey,” she mutters, starting to put away her makeup products. “I’m nervous, too.”

“Hm?” Link looks up at her as she re-enters the bedroom.

“I’m nervous to be around your family….I don’t know,” she mutters anxiously, reaching for her coat and purse. “They have no idea we were even….apart….” she cuts herself off from going in that direction. “They just don’t know me very well.”

Link nods. Knowing there is so much more to it. So much more that Amelia didn’t say.

“Let’s just make the best of it tonight,” He offers.

And Amelia nods in agreement.

_______

After a short ceremony in which Amelia and Link struggle to keep Scout settled in his seat and non-disruptive, they are completely relieved to have moved on to the reception part of the night.

They smile their way through introductions and explanations. And Amelia grits her teeth at the repetitive questions from distant family members.

‘How long have you guys been together?’

‘So nice of you to finally bring Scout around!’

‘What are your plans for the future?’

Amelia holds back her discomfort. And holds a tight smile. The only thing anchoring her being the equal dismay on Link’s part. The impatient tightness in his voice as he answers the same questions over and over weirdly brings her comfort. Just to know that she’s not the only one feeling totally out of place here.

The question that sets her off the most though, comes from Link’s uncle. But, when Link is asked whether or not he’s ‘being courted by the Mariners for another contract this upcoming season,’ Link reaches over and squeezes Amelia’s shoulders assuringly.

She sighs in relief at the vagueness of his answer.

“We like to take things one step at a time.”

And Amelia turns away from Link’s uncle, gazing up at Link, surprised by the feeling that swells in her chest.

_______

As the night continues, the energy becomes much less stressful. Although Link was very much not looking forward to this event, the energy of the room is having an effect on him. His relatives are dancing and talking and celebrating. It’s an overall joyful atmosphere. And Link is relieved. Relieved to be not so burdened by his initial distaste at the idea of this wedding in the first place.

Link smiles as he glances across the room. He watches as Amelia pulls Scout onto the dance floor, reaching forward for his little arms. She bends slightly as she twirls him around, Scout in a fit of giggles.

Link watches the two of them for a few more minutes, until the fast-paced song switches over to a slower one. There’s a round of cheers from family members and friends as the atmosphere changes and couples begin arranging themselves for a slow dance.

The next thing he knows, Link is crossing the dance floor himself.

“May I cut in?” He asks as he approaches, looking pointedly at Scout, his tone playful.

Scout glances between his parents as Amelia drops his hands. He looks around the room at the couples swaying slowly, then he’s nodding excitedly as he turns back to his parents.

“I can take him over to where some of the other kids are playing,” one of Link’s family friends chimes in suddenly and Link smiles, nodding a thank you as Scout runs off to be with the other kids.

Then they are alone. Just the two of them surrounded by other couples.

“Dance with me?” Link reaches a hand out to Amelia.

And she hesitates only briefly before taking it. Her pulse quickens out of nowhere and she tries to suppress the feeling that grows, the feeling that’s reminding her of every high school dance ever. Because she isn’t in high school. And this isn’t some high school crush. This is Link. The father of her child. And this is his parent’s wedding.

His hand clasps around hers, pulling her forward, and his other arm settles around her waist. Amelia’s free arm automatically rests over his, her hand coming down to rest against his shoulder.

There’s still a slight distance between them, the uncertainty of their positioning quite evident. Until Link pulls her even closer, so that she’s putting more of her weight against his chest. Amelia suppresses a gasp, looking briefly between his eyes. Before the eye contact becomes too much and she glances past him, over his shoulder instead.

“So,” Link murmurs, allowing her eyes to drift away from him. “Tonight wasn’t so bad.”

“Mhm,” she hums in agreement, her eyes settling on Link’s parents behind them. “Your parents are cute.”

Link shifts them around, so he can have a better view of his parents in the center of the dance floor.

“It took them a while to get to the cute stage, in my opinion,” Link looks back down at Amelia. He still towers over her, even when she’s wearing heels and it makes Link smile. Amelia laughs at his words, rolling her eyes.

“You’re always going to hold it against them, huh?”

Link shakes his head, like he’s deciding something. “No….no I won’t. I can be happy for them.”

Amelia nods up at him, and holds eye contact. She adjusts herself, letting her arm slide up further, resting around the back of his neck.

“This was fun. Scout had fun.”

“He did,” Link murmurs, letting his hand begin circling a repetitive pattern across her lower back.

Link notices the song change. Back to an upbeat tune, not so much fit for a slow dance. But it seems to take Amelia a moment to catch on. Because before she’s noticed the beat change, her head drops momentarily to rest against Link’s chest. They’re still swaying back and forth slowly, as if the song hasn’t changed.

But then the DJ makes an announcement, something about requests for other songs. And Amelia shakes from her reverie. Stepping out of Link’s embrace, she takes in the atmosphere of the increasingly crowded dance floor.

“We should probably find Scout,” she mutters, eyes scanning the room.

Link follows after her as she begins crossing the room. They approach the kid’s table to see Scout sitting with his head resting down in front of him. He’s surrounded by other kids but he’s fighting off sleep with his head resting against his arms on the table.

“Think we should call it a night?” Link mutters, and Amelia nods, gently stepping forward to wake Scout up.

_______

Link hears light snoring as he drives them home. He glances in the rearview mirror, to the backseat, and smiles to himself at the sight of both Amelia and Scout sound asleep. She’d insisted on sitting back there with him for the drive home. Link shakes his head now, realizing it was probably because there was more room back there for her to drift off, too.

The car pulls into the driveway and Link turns the engine off, stepping out and around to Scout’s side of the car. He opens the door gently, not wanting to wake him up. He lifts Scout as carefully as possible, and that’s when Amelia stirs. She sits up suddenly, eyes darting around in confusion.

“Hey,” Link whispers. “I’m going to carry him up. You should head to bed, too.”

Amelia nods, realizing her surroundings. She climbs out of the car, following after Link and Scout inside.

_______

Amelia takes a makeup wipe to her eyes as she rests tiredly against the bathroom counter. She blinks sleepily despite herself, but would never go to bed without taking her makeup off first.

Link huffs as he enters the bedroom, glancing at Amelia through the open bathroom door before sitting on the edge of the bed to slip his shoes off. “He is not as light as he used to be,” he laughs, referring to carrying Scout to bed.

“Mhm,” Amelia hums, “He’s growing up so fast.”

Link disappears from Amelia’s line of sight, entering the closet to hang his suit jacket and slip on some sweatpants. He collapses into bed shortly after while Amelia finishes getting ready for bed.

She’s still wearing her dress as she heads to the closet and Link’s voice causes her to pause for a second. “You should wear that dress more,” He mumbles sleepily.

And Amelia rolls her eyes, holding back a smirk, as she enters the closet to change.

She appears a moment later, dressed for bed. Her equally exhausted state leads her to collapse onto her side of the bed in similar fashion to Link.

“I’m serious,” Link mutters. Amelia turns her head to the side, noticing how his eyes remain closed. She’s relieved that he can’t see her sheepish expression.

“I want to start over, Amelia.” His eyes open now, searching for hers. And Amelia swallows her nerves. “I want to take you on a date.”

She laughs. Because this is not what she was expecting.

“What?” She mumbles through her uncertain laugh.

“And I want you to wear that dress.” He sounds like he’s fighting off sleep again and Amelia finds herself hesitant to agree to him while they’re both so exhausted. Hesitant because she doesn’t know how much he means it.

“You don’t have to answer me right now,” Link continues, muttering into his pillow a bit as he settles onto his side, eyes closing again. “But promise me you’ll think about it?”

Amelia breathes a sigh, biting her lip as she glances at Link’s resting face.

“Okay,” she whispers. And then lets her own eyes shut, too.

//