#Massachusetts Moving Companies

[mastodonmoving]

Meet our management - Meet our management team. Owner JJ, Sales Manager Dave, Business Development Jim and President Connor. https://mastodonmoving.com/middlesex-movers/

#movers #moversnearme #shortdistancemovers #moversinma #middlesexmovers #moversmiddlesexma #localmovers

[kingmovers]

King Affordable Movers is a professional packers and movers company in Marblehead, Massachusetts that can assist you with stress-free packing and multiple shifting services. Our comprehensive range of services includes moving and packing services for customers throughout Boston. We are making your move as simple as possible in order to accommodate your schedule. For more information, please contact us at 781-513-0269.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Autoenshittification

Forget F1: the only car race that matters now is the race to turn your car into a digital extraction machine, a high-speed inkjet printer on wheels, stealing your private data as it picks your pocket. Your car’s digital infrastructure is a costly, dangerous nightmare — but for automakers in pursuit of postcapitalist utopia, it’s a dream they can’t give up on.

Your car is stuffed full of microchips, a fact the world came to appreciate after the pandemic struck and auto production ground to a halt due to chip shortages. Of course, that wasn’t the whole story: when the pandemic started, the automakers panicked and canceled their chip orders, only to immediately regret that decision and place new orders.

But it was too late: semiconductor production had taken a serious body-blow, and when Big Car placed its new chip orders, it went to the back of a long, slow-moving line. It was a catastrophic bungle: microchips are so integral to car production that a car is basically a computer network on wheels that you stick your fragile human body into and pray.

The car manufacturers got so desperate for chips that they started buying up washing machines for the microchips in them, extracting the chips and discarding the washing machines like some absurdo-dystopian cyberpunk walnut-shelling machine:

https://www.autoevolution.com/news/desperate-times-companies-buy-washing-machines-just-to-rip-out-the-chips-187033.html

These digital systems are a huge problem for the car companies. They are the underlying cause of a precipitous decline in car quality. From touch-based digital door-locks to networked sensors and cameras, every digital system in your car is a source of endless repair nightmares, costly recalls and cybersecurity vulnerabilities:

https://www.reuters.com/business/autos-transportation/quality-new-vehicles-us-declining-more-tech-use-study-shows-2023-06-22/

What’s more, drivers hate all the digital bullshit, from the janky touchscreens to the shitty, wildly insecure apps. Digital systems are drivers’ most significant point of dissatisfaction with the automakers’ products:

https://www.theverge.com/23801545/car-infotainment-customer-satisifaction-survey-jd-power

Even the automakers sorta-kinda admit that this is a problem. Back in 2020 when Massachusetts was having a Right-to-Repair ballot initiative, Big Car ran these unfuckingbelievable scare ads that basically said, “Your car spies on you so comprehensively that giving anyone else access to its systems will let murderers stalk you to your home and kill you:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/03/rip-david-graeber/#rolling-surveillance-platforms

But even amid all the complaining about cars getting stuck in the Internet of Shit, there’s still not much discussion of why the car-makers are making their products less attractive, less reliable, less safe, and less resilient by stuffing them full of microchips. Are car execs just the latest generation of rubes who’ve been suckered by Silicon Valley bullshit and convinced that apps are a magic path to profitability?

Nope. Car execs are sophisticated businesspeople, and they’re surfing capitalism’s latest — and last — hot trend: dismantling capitalism itself.

Now, leftists have been predicting the death of capitalism since The Communist Manifesto, but even Marx and Engels warned us not to get too frisky: capitalism, they wrote, is endlessly creative, constantly reinventing itself, re-emerging from each crisis in a new form that is perfectly adapted to the post-crisis reality:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/31/books/review/a-spectre-haunting-china-mieville.html

But capitalism has finally run out of gas. In his forthcoming book, Techno Feudalism: What Killed Capitalism, Yanis Varoufakis proposes that capitalism has died — but it wasn’t replaced by socialism. Rather, capitalism has given way to feudalism:

https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/451795/technofeudalism-by-varoufakis-yanis/9781847927279

Under capitalism, capital is the prime mover. The people who own and mobilize capital — the capitalists — organize the economy and take the lion’s share of its returns. But it wasn’t always this way: for hundreds of years, European civilization was dominated by rents, not markets.

A “rent” is income that you get from owning something that other people need to produce value. Think of renting out a house you own: not only do you get paid when someone pays you to live there, you also get the benefit of rising property values, which are the result of the work that all the other homeowners, business owners, and residents do to make the neighborhood more valuable.

The first capitalists hated rent. They wanted to replace the “passive income” that landowners got from taxing their serfs’ harvest with active income from enclosing those lands and grazing sheep in order to get wool to feed to the new textile mills. They wanted active income — and lots of it.

Capitalist philosophers railed against rent. The “free market” of Adam Smith wasn’t a market that was free from regulation — it was a market free from rents. The reason Smith railed against monopolists is because he (correctly) understood that once a monopoly emerged, it would become a chokepoint through which a rentier could cream off the profits he considered the capitalist’s due:

https://locusmag.com/2021/03/cory-doctorow-free-markets/

Today, we live in a rentier’s paradise. People don’t aspire to create value — they aspire to capture it. In Survival of the Richest, Doug Rushkoff calls this “going meta”: don’t provide a service, just figure out a way to interpose yourself between the provider and the customer:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/13/collapse-porn/#collapse-porn

Don’t drive a cab, create Uber and extract value from every driver and rider. Better still: don’t found Uber, invest in Uber options and extract value from the people who invest in Uber. Even better, invest in derivatives of Uber options and extract value from people extracting value from people investing in Uber, who extract value from drivers and riders. Go meta.

This is your brain on the four-hour-work-week, passive income mind-virus. In Techno Feudalism, Varoufakis deftly describes how the new “Cloud Capital” has created a new generation of rentiers, and how they have become the richest, most powerful people in human history.

Shopping at Amazon is like visiting a bustling city center full of stores — but each of those stores’ owners has to pay the majority of every sale to a feudal landlord, Emperor Jeff Bezos, who also decides which goods they can sell and where they must appear on the shelves. Amazon is full of capitalists, but it is not a capitalist enterprise. It’s a feudal one:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

This is the reason that automakers are willing to enshittify their products so comprehensively: they were one of the first industries to decouple rents from profits. Recall that the reason that Big Car needed billions in bailouts in 2008 is that they’d reinvented themselves as loan-sharks who incidentally made cars, lending money to car-buyers and then “securitizing” the loans so they could be traded in the capital markets.

Even though this strategy brought the car companies to the brink of ruin, it paid off in the long run. The car makers got billions in public money, paid their execs massive bonuses, gave billions to shareholders in buybacks and dividends, smashed their unions, fucked their pensioned workers, and shipped jobs anywhere they could pollute and murder their workforce with impunity.

Car companies are on the forefront of postcapitalism, and they understand that digital is the key to rent-extraction. Remember when BMW announced that it was going to rent you the seatwarmer in your own fucking car?

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/02/big-river/#beemers

Not to be outdone, Mercedes announced that they were going to rent you your car’s accelerator pedal, charging an extra $1200/year to unlock a fully functional acceleration curve:

https://www.theverge.com/2022/11/23/23474969/mercedes-car-subscription-faster-acceleration-feature-price

This is the urinary tract infection business model: without digitization, all your car’s value flowed in a healthy stream. But once the car-makers add semiconductors, each one of those features comes out in a painful, burning dribble, with every button on that fakakta touchscreen wired directly into your credit-card.

But it’s just for starters. Computers are malleable. The only computer we know how to make is the Turing Complete Von Neumann Machine, which can run every program we know how to write. Once they add networked computers to your car, the Car Lords can endlessly twiddle the knobs on the back end, finding new ways to extract value from you:

https://doctorow.medium.com/twiddler-1b5c9690cce6

That means that your car can track your every movement, and sell your location data to anyone and everyone, from marketers to bounty-hunters looking to collect fees for tracking down people who travel out of state for abortions to cops to foreign spies:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/n7enex/tool-shows-if-car-selling-data-privacy4cars-vehicle-privacy-report

Digitization supercharges financialization. It lets car-makers offer subprime auto-loans to desperate, poor people and then killswitch their cars if they miss a payment:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4U2eDJnwz_s

Subprime lending for cars would be a terrible business without computers, but digitization makes it a great source of feudal rents. Car dealers can originate loans to people with teaser rates that quickly blow up into payments the dealer knows their customer can’t afford. Then they repo the car and sell it to another desperate person, and another, and another:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/27/boricua/#looking-for-the-joke-with-a-microscope

Digitization also opens up more exotic options. Some subprime cars have secondary control systems wired into their entertainment system: miss a payment and your car radio flips to full volume and bellows an unstoppable, unmutable stream of threats. Tesla does one better: your car will lock and immobilize itself, then blare its horn and back out of its parking spot when the repo man arrives:

https://tiremeetsroad.com/2021/03/18/tesla-allegedly-remotely-unlocks-model-3-owners-car-uses-smart-summon-to-help-repo-agent/

Digital feudalism hasn’t stopped innovating — it’s just stopped innovating good things. The digital device is an endless source of sadistic novelties, like the cellphones that disable your most-used app the first day you’re late on a payment, then work their way down the other apps you rely on for every day you’re late:

https://restofworld.org/2021/loans-that-hijack-your-phone-are-coming-to-india/

Usurers have always relied on this kind of imaginative intimidation. The loan-shark’s arm-breaker knows you’re never going to get off the hook; his goal is in intimidating you into paying his boss first, liquidating your house and your kid’s college fund and your wedding ring before you default and he throws you off a building.

Thanks to the malleability of computerized systems, digital arm-breakers have an endless array of options they can deploy to motivate you into paying them first, no matter what it costs you:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

Car-makers are trailblazers in imaginative rent-extraction. Take VIN-locking: this is the practice of adding cheap microchips to engine components that communicate with the car’s overall network. After a new part is installed in your car, your car’s computer does a complex cryptographic handshake with the part that requires an unlock code provided by an authorized technician. If the code isn’t entered, the car refuses to use that part.

VIN-locking has exploded in popularity. It’s in your iPhone, preventing you from using refurb or third-party replacement parts:

https://doctorow.medium.com/apples-cement-overshoes-329856288d13

It’s in fuckin’ ventilators, which was a nightmare during lockdown as hospital techs nursed their precious ventilators along by swapping parts from dead systems into serviceable ones:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/3azv9b/why-repair-techs-are-hacking-ventilators-with-diy-dongles-from-poland

And of course, it’s in tractors, along with other forms of remote killswitch. Remember that feelgood story about John Deere bricking the looted Ukrainian tractors whose snitch-chips showed they’d been relocated to Russia?

https://doctorow.medium.com/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors-bc93f471b9c8

That wasn’t a happy story — it was a cautionary tale. After all, John Deere now controls the majority of the world’s agricultural future, and they’ve boobytrapped those ubiquitous tractors with killswitches that can be activated by anyone who hacks, takes over, or suborns Deere or its dealerships.

Control over repair isn’t limited to gouging customers on parts and service. When a company gets to decide whether your device can be fixed, it can fuck you over in all kinds of ways. Back in 2019, Tim Apple told his shareholders to expect lower revenues because people were opting to fix their phones rather than replace them:

https://www.apple.com/newsroom/2019/01/letter-from-tim-cook-to-apple-investors/

By usurping your right to decide who fixes your phone, Apple gets to decide whether you can fix it, or whether you must replace it. Problem solved — and not just for Apple, but for car makers, tractor makers, ventilator makers and more. Apple leads on this, even ahead of Big Car, pioneering a “recycling” program that sees trade-in phones shredded so they can’t possibly be diverted from an e-waste dump and mined for parts:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/yp73jw/apple-recycling-iphones-macbooks

John Deere isn’t sleeping on this. They’ve come up with a valuable treasure they extract when they win the Right-to-Repair: Deere singles out farmers who complain about its policies and refuses to repair their tractors, stranding them with six-figure, two-ton paperweight:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/31/dealers-choice/#be-a-shame-if-something-were-to-happen-to-it

The repair wars are just a skirmish in a vast, invisible fight that’s been waged for decades: the War On General-Purpose Computing, where tech companies use the law to make it illegal for you to reconfigure your devices so they serve you, rather than their shareholders:

https://memex.craphound.com/2012/01/10/lockdown-the-coming-war-on-general-purpose-computing/

The force behind this army is vast and grows larger every day. General purpose computers are antithetical to technofeudalism — all the rents extracted by technofeudalists would go away if others (tinkereres, co-ops, even capitalists!) were allowed to reconfigure our devices so they serve us.

You’ve probably noticed the skirmishes with inkjet printer makers, who can only force you to buy their ink at 20,000% markups if they can stop you from deciding how your printer is configured:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/07/inky-wretches/#epson-salty But we’re also fighting against insulin pump makers, who want to turn people with diabetes into walking inkjet printers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/10/loopers/#hp-ification

And companies that make powered wheelchairs:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/08/chair-ish/#r2r

These companies start with people who have the least agency and social power and wreck their lives, then work their way up the privilege gradient, coming for everyone else. It’s called the “shitty technology adoption curve”:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust

Technofeudalism is the public-private-partnership from hell, emerging from a combination of state and private action. On the one hand, bailing out bankers and big business (rather than workers) after the 2008 crash and the covid lockdown decoupled income from profits. Companies spent billions more than they earned were still wildly profitable, thanks to those public funds.

But there’s also a policy dimension here. Some of those rentiers’ billions were mobilized to both deconstruct antitrust law (allowing bigger and bigger companies and cartels) and to expand “IP” law, turning “IP” into a toolsuite for controlling the conduct of a firm’s competitors, critics and customers:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

IP is key to understanding the rise of technofeudalism. The same malleability that allows companies to “twiddle” the knobs on their services and keep us on the hook as they reel us in would hypothetically allow us to countertwiddle, seizing the means of computation:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

The thing that stands between you and an alternative app store, an interoperable social media network that you can escape to while continuing to message the friends you left behind, or a car that anyone can fix or unlock features for is IP, not technology. Under capitalism, that technology would already exist, because capitalists have no loyalty to one another and view each other’s margins as their own opportunities.

But under technofeudalism, control comes from rents (owning things), not profits (selling things). The capitalist who wants to participate in your iPhone’s “ecosystem” has to make apps and submit them to Apple, along with 30% of their lifetime revenues — they don’t get to sell you jailbreaking kit that lets you choose their app store.

Rent-seeking technology has a holy grail: control over “ring zero” — the ability to compel you to configure your computer to a feudalist’s specifications, and to verify that you haven’t altered your computer after it came into your possession:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/30/ring-minus-one/#drm-political-economy

For more than two decades, various would-be feudal lords and their court sorcerers have been pitching ways of doing this, of varying degrees of outlandishness.

At core, here’s what they envision: inside your computer, they will nest another computer, one that is designed to run a very simple set of programs, none of which can be altered once it leaves the factory. This computer — either a whole separate chip called a “Trusted Platform Module” or a region of your main processor called a secure enclave — can tally observations about your computer: which operating system, modules and programs it’s running.

Then it can cryptographically “sign” these observations, proving that they were made by a secure chip and not by something you could have modified. Then you can send this signed “attestation” to someone else, who can use it to determine how your computer is configured and thus whether to trust it. This is called “remote attestation.”

There are some cool things you can do with remote attestation: for example, two strangers playing a networked video game together can use attestations to make sure neither is running any cheat modules. Or you could require your cloud computing provider to use attestations that they aren’t stealing your data from the server you’re renting. Or if you suspect that your computer has been infected with malware, you can connect to someone else and send them an attestation that they can use to figure out whether you should trust it.

Today, there’s a cool remote attestation technology called “PrivacyPass” that replaces CAPTCHAs by having you prove to your own device that you are a human. When a server wants to make sure you’re a person, it sends a random number to your device, which signs that number along with its promise that it is acting on behalf of a human being, and sends it back. CAPTCHAs are all kinds of bad — bad for accessibility and privacy — and this is really great.

But the billions that have been thrown at remote attestation over the decades is only incidentally about solving CAPTCHAs or verifying your cloud server. The holy grail here is being able to make sure that you’re not running an ad-blocker. It’s being able to remotely verify that you haven’t disabled the bossware your employer requires. It’s the power to block someone from opening an Office365 doc with LibreOffice. It’s your boss’s ability to ensure that you haven’t modified your messaging client to disable disappearing messages before he sends you an auto-destructing memo ordering you to break the law.

And there’s a new remote attestation technology making the rounds: Google’s Web Environment Integrity, which will leverage Google’s dominance over browsers to allow websites to block users who run ad-blockers:

https://github.com/RupertBenWiser/Web-Environment-Integrity

There’s plenty else WEI can do (it would make detecting ad-fraud much easier), but for every legitimate use, there are a hundred ways this could be abused. It’s a technology purpose-built to allow rent extraction by stripping us of our right to technological self-determination.

Releasing a technology like this into a world where companies are willing to make their products less reliable, less attractive, less safe and less resilient in pursuit of rents is incredibly reckless and shortsighted. You want unauthorized bread? This is how you get Unauthorized Bread:

https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/amp/

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

[Image ID: The interior of a luxury car. There is a dagger protruding from the steering wheel. The entertainment console has been replaced by the text 'You wouldn't download a car,' in MPAA scare-ad font. Outside of the windscreen looms the Matrix waterfall effect. Visible in the rear- and side-view mirror is the driver: the figure from Munch's 'Scream.' The screen behind the steering-wheel has been replaced by the menacing red eye of HAL9000 from Stanley Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey.']

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[mayakern]

upcoming store stuff & why we're doing a super sale

omg hiiii it's devin again, and this time i'm bringing store news

the short version: we're moving ourselves back to minnesota, and we're moving order fulfillment to a fulfillment center

wow, that's big news! maya and i are so so so excited to be closer to our minnesota friends (and also my family lol). i'm hoping to be back in northeast minneapolis, but let's be real we're probably gonna get priced out and into the suburbs

in addition to that, due to a variety of reasons i'll explain in more detail below, we're transitioning from in-house fulfillment to working with a fulfillment center (or 3pl, short for third-party logistics). we're at an awkward size that makes staffing difficult and have had issues with extended processing time. the 3pl should be set up by september, and we're working on the back end to have fulfillment centers in australia, canada, the UK, and eventually the EU. if tax authorities work with us we should have all that ready by december 2024!

to prepare for that we're doing a super sale. ash told me not to call it liquidation but she said that like 30 seconds after i hit send on the marketing email, sorry about that. items that we don't want to pay to move to the 3pl are discounted by 25-70%, with some of them priced at cost. under no circumstances will anything ever be 70% off again

if you're nosy you can read the q&a i made up in my head while eating pigs in a blanket:

how are the labor protections at the 3pl?

pretty good! we were shocked to find anything even halfway decent in the US; we went looking for a fulfillment center in the EU to handle all international fulfillment, and the one we found just so happened to have bought a US location two years ago.

they're located in ohio, pay $19/hr, and provide health insurance and 401k matching. that seemed too good to be true so we dug through employee reviews on places like glassdoor, and while there were some bad reviews those were all dated prior to when the facility was purchased by this new company. they also have a very low turnover rate which is a HUGE green flag

why are you transferring to a 3pl?

the serious

sometimes we have a high volume of sales, and it makes sense to have two full-time employees plus a part timer! but usually we have a low-to-medium volume of sales. we can float by on that, but it gets risky, and the economy is in a bad enough state that we're concerned about the longevity

related, the 2023 holiday sale showed us some major flaws in our fulfillment process. if the same issues were to happen this year the business probably wouldn't survive

we're moving cross-country in early 2025 and would've had to close this location anyway

the dumb:

i'm sick of dealing with commercial landlords and if i have one more wall leak i'm going to throw it into the river brick by brick

what about your staff?

unfortunately we will have to say goodbye to our office staff. they have been given 3.5 months notice and no-questions-asked PTO for interviews with a small severance

why are you moving back to minnesota?

troy was always meant to be a temporary move. initially the plan was to move to vermont or massachusetts, but after being out here for 7 years we just kinda want to go home. the weather in troy is perfect for us, we love the mountains, and we have some great friends here, but for some goddamn reason we want our eyelashes to freeze together.

will you be returning to midwest cons?

if we return to cons at all it will be with ariel and/or ash running the booth, maya will not be involved. this would likely be in california and/or in the northeast US.

my friends are begging me to go to CONvergence as an attendee so ig you might see me there? maya has pledged death before crowded venues tho

will you do any local events in minnesota?

we might do sample sales. honestly idk what we're gonna do with the samples we have in troy, most of them are terrible. do you want samples of the strangest low rise bell bottom pants ever created? please take them from me. my bush hangs out

also my kid brother has gotten really into library events and if he asks nice enough we might do some of those

is there anything else?

i mean probably, but i started this last week and i haven't had any other ideas on what to include

[ursuburbanmother]

I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter One

Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Angus have been best friends since you were little children. Now in high school the only thing that separates you is a lake between both your schools. Due to what was describe by your headmaster as "Unfortunate circumstances due to chance, and poor planning on our part," you are forced to stay at the Barton Academy for the holidays with the company of your best friend or maybe more.

a/n: hi guys! I’m new so try to be kind to me lol. Anyways this is probably not very good. It’s slow paced cause I wanted to establish their friendship. Not sure where this is going so if you have any suggestions let me know! Also not grammar or beta read so…

Word Count: 3k

Find: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Enjoy!

December 17th, 1970

You hadn’t spoken to your parents in months. You figured they would call or write a letter or something. In October they wished you a speedy little, “Happy Halloween,” before hanging up. You could hear the loud party in the background. Always the socialites, they were probably eager to get back to enjoying themselves by downing flutes of champagne and appetizers. Now it was December, and you had not received a peep from either. When the holiday plans form was passed out to the girls of your boarding school at the end of November, you ignored it. Then the deadline came, and you hastily checked off the box that said, ‘Plan to stay on campus.’

Your parents hadn’t called to dispute it and now you’re stuck at mass, sitting in a pew, watching other happy families and their daughters anxiously waiting to leave. You wondered if there was still a way for you to get away. Your friend, really only friend, Angus Tully was headed to St. Kitts and with him gone, your only true escape was gone. If he knew you were stuck holding over, he would beg his parents to take you, but you knew it would be too much of an imposition, so you kept that fact secret.

Life had always seemed to throw you two together. Even at the age where cooties were still a very legitimate fear. Born in the same snobby Boston neighborhood you two were often the only kids at your parent's parties. You remember that humid night on the Fourth of July when you had met the lanky boy with a mess of brown curls. The fireworks had begun to go off and everyone wore white dresses and suits. You had become restless and started to wander the halls of your home aimlessly. Streamers of blue, red and white hung from the ceiling and servers walked around passing out sparklers.

You found him on the patio. He tugged, annoyed, at his tie. Your own dress was stifling in the heat and for a pair of seven-year-olds, you found the best solution to your ailment was to jump into the shallow end of the pool.

“I’ll do it, if you do it,” you had promised under the hum of cicadas and floating fireflies.

“Deal,” you shook hands.

The water was cold and clear. You swam around for a while, splashing each other and playing Marco Polo. It was at the same time your mother had decided to move the party outside so people could watch the lights in the sky a bit better. You two were pulled out of the pool and shook like wet dogs.

Livid, your parents fed you the line all parents wait to say to their troublesome child, “If your friend jumped off a bridge, would you?” You decided at that moment that yes, you would.

After that you two were inseparable. Because when you're a kid all you need is one single act of solidarity to devote your life to someone. Throughout elementary school you were practically fused to one another. You’d exclude people from your game of hopscotch and eat lunch in secret nooks. When you two were headed to high school your parents enrolled you in a posh all-girl boarding school and Angus to some prep school in another rural part of Massachusetts. Phone calls rang long. You remember the groans you would get from other girls who would give up trying to use the payphone. At some point you had run out of quarters and so to save money you had begun writing letters. Angus being Angus, he’d write as if he was off at war and the letters were the last things keeping him sane.

You knew he never enjoyed school but after he was kicked out from his first preparatory, then his second and third, you had turned into a scolding mother.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Die if I’m lucky, shave my head at Fork Union if not.”

“I want to go to college with you Angus. If not college then I at least want to be able to be an adult with you. One with a diploma so we can get easy jobs as regional salespeople or something,” you mumbled, twirling the phone cord around with your finger.

“You really thought this out,” he laughed.

“I’m serious, Augie.” You heard him sigh across the line.

“Okay. I’ll do better. No screw ups next time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

When he was sent to Barton, your sister school, you couldn’t have been more excited. It was a short walk away; you could see it from across the lake that separated you. Your mom had been the one to call you about the change. She said his mother thought having him near you would make him less fussy. Something about you being the good influence he needs. You doubted that yet bit your tongue, knowing it would create more trouble than anything. Now it had been over a year and Angus had kept his word. When the opportunity arose for you to meet up, you would take it. Football games or talent shows, you were there. To anyone outside, it would have appeared as though you two just held a lot of school spirit. Like that beach boy's song.

“Be true to your school now,” you’d sing into Angus' ear.

He’d roll his eyes but always join in, “just like you would to your girl or guy.”

“Rah-rah-rah-rah sis boom bah! I love that part!” You’d giggle.

He’d try to hide his smile, but you could always tell. He’d put his arm around your shoulder and say, “Yeah okay.”

…

Once you were dismissed from mass you sighed and trudged all the way back through the snow to your dorm building. Having it so empty was eerie, you could hear your own footsteps echoing down the halls. You made your way into the common room to wait for Ms. Orchard.

She was meant to be your babysitter for the next few weeks. She was your Renaissance literature teacher. Ms. Orchard was nice but on the older side, which meant she was traditional. You often thought she would be better suited to be a Home Economics teacher if she was so invested in being ladylike.

You sat in the corner of the couch and opened a book. Minutes passed and it seemed obvious no one was coming to join you. Not even Mrs. Orchard. She probably broke a hip trying to make her way back in the snow.

“Ms. Orchard has broken a hip while walking in the snow,” the door suddenly bursts open hitting the side of the wall so hard it shakes the room.

“What?” Your mouth drops at the news. Shit, had you jinxed it?

Your Dean, Mr. Jameson says as he walks in, covered in snowflakes. “Yup. She slipped on ice on the way here. By the parking lot. Didn’t you hear the ambulance?”

“Uh… no?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking around the room, “where are the other girls?”

“I think it’s just me sir.”

“Ah, right. Well that makes this easier. You’ll be spending your Christmas break at Barton. Now, it’s awfully last minute so we hope they take you. Why don’t you go get your bag ready and-,”

“Hold on. Barton the boys' school?” You could almost gag at the idea. No offense to Angus, but you could remember the endless horror stories he would tell you of life in a boys' school. The air always smelled weird, and cleanliness was the least of their worries. “Isn’t there somebody to replace Ms. Orchard?”

“This place cleared out thirty minutes ago, Ms. L/n,” he said, “And I have a family to get back to.”

“But-, I just-, isn't there a rule against this or something?”

“I have no doubt that the teacher supervisor there will ensure you have a safe, jolly time Ms. L/n.”

“But I-,”

“That’s enough. I understand this is an unprecedented situation, but the only alternative would be to leave you here alone and that just is not going to happen. Please Ms. L/n, make this easy for everyone.” With his hand he motioned towards the door.

“Fine,” you gritted out. You got off the couch and went to your room. You half-heartedly crammed anything you could into your suitcase. Some shirts, sweaters and pants. You ran out of space and resorted to carrying your books in your hands along with your potted plant. You felt bad leaving your lavender to just sit and wilt, so you took her with you.

“I made a few calls. Everything should work out. You all settled then?” Mr. Jameson said once you had made your way back to the common room. Nodding with a tight-lipped smile you headed out. You two could have walked but apparently, he was in a hurry to catch a six o’clock flight and you ended up taking his car.

It was a short drive and with reluctance you made your way inside the school. “Come on. Put a pep in your step,” Mr. Jameson clapped.

He navigated you around. You had only been in the main building, never the dorms. Blindly you let him guide you until you found yourself in a room with four other boys and Angus. Angus who was supposed to be half-way to the airport by now. His sulky face shifted into one of shock. You took a step towards him only to be stopped by your dean's arm in front of you. The other guys were looking at you with mouths wide open. It was like their eyes were about to fall out of their sockets. You grumbled, not knowing what else to do.

Mr. Jameson took the lead, “Mr. Hunham? Correct?” He outstretched his hand for him to shake. Hesitantly the older man took it.

“What’s the meaning of this,” he pointed between Mr. Jameson and you.

“Unfortunate circumstances due to chance, and poor planning on our part. This is Ms. Y/n L/n. Come introduce yourself.”

“I’m Y/n L/n,” you shrugged, looking at Angus for guidance. In unison they all say hello.

“Can we speak in private,” Mr. Jameson asked.

“Alright,” Mr. Hunham says, “no funny business,” he gives a pointed look to the boys.

The two teachers leave, and you quickly move to Angus to encapsulate him in a quick hug.

“What the hell? What are you doing here?”

“Funny, I was going to ask the same thing.”

“What the hell Angus. You have a girlfriend?” A blonde boy with a red tie says as his eyes scan your figure. You shift uncomfortably at the action. “A smoking one too…”

“Shut it Kountze, you’re catching flies,” Angus scoffs.

The door creaks open as both gentlemen return from their brief chat. You and Angus move away from each other like you were caught doing something wrong.

“It seems we will be extending you an invitation to Ms. L/n,” Mr. Hunham says, “you okayed this with Woodrup?” He verifies again with Dean Jameson.

“Yes, it’s all settled. We at Janie Patrick’s School thank you. We owe you one,” he turns to you, “goodbye L/n, you’re in good hands.”

He was halfway through the door when Mr. Hunham cleared his throat obnoxiously loudly. “As I was saying, we will be following a standard school schedule.”

“Uh, sir? We’re on vacation.” Kountze points out.

“Which means we’ll be taking our meals together. And you will observe regular hours of study.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“The Peloponnesian War awaits, Mr. Kountze, you and Mr. Tully. The rest of you can get a jump on next semester. It’ll pay off. You’ll see.”

“We’re already holding over, and now we’re being punished for it?” Angus says bitterly and on fast reflex you rub his arm comfortingly. Mr. Hunham is just as fast to notice.

“Oh no, no, no. Do not tell me this is your girlfriend Mr. Tully.”

“Wh-what. No! We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, we were born on the same street!”

“I do not intend to break apart your romantic escapades all break long.”

“We. Are. Just. Friends,” Angus reaffirms, venom on his tongue. You could see the blush rising on his pale cheeks. You could feel your own as well.

“Mhm,” Hunham hums skeptically, his gaze lingers on you two for a second before glancing back at his clipboard, “Alright… You will be afforded limited windows for recreation and supervised physical activity.”

“The gyms are not even open yet.”

“Yeah, they only lacquered half the floor,” another boy points out, this one has long blonde hair that reaches his shoulders.

“Fresh air will do you good,” says Hunham.

“It’s like 15 degrees outside.”

“And the Romans bathed naked in the freezing Tiber. Adversity builds character Mr. Tully. Uh, speaking of which, the school will be cutting heat to dormitories and faculty housing and so we’ll all be bunking in the infirmary. With separate accommodations for Ms. L/n of course.”

They all groan. You're just upset. You had thought you would spend the next two weeks avoiding Ms. Orchard and lying to Angus about your whereabouts while he admiringly described the beaches of St. Kitts to you over postcards. Although you supposed it wasn’t all bad. You could spend more time with him, under the watchful glare of Angus' teacher of course.

Together you all get ready to haul your things to the infirmary before being stopped by Mr. Hunhams tsking in disapproval.

“You philistines are just going to let the lady carry her own things? I’m sorry to see Barton has failed in ingraining a sense of chivalry into you.”

“Oh no, it’s alright really, I can do it,” you protest but they all scramble to help you anyway. “Can I carry your suitcase Y/n?” Kountze says, in an odd way, that was meant to be suggestive.

“Okay Kountze, piss off,” Tully pushes him away, leaning down slightly to get your things, “let’s go.” He walks quickly out the door, leaving the rest of you to follow him.

As you are slapped in the face by the harsh winds you curse the idiots at your school who refused to let you wear pants. You were forced to put on double the tights and your warmest coat. It did not do anything to aid you and your shivering made that clear. It was like they wanted to torture you when the boys stopped halfway down the quad and in front of a truck. You're still holding your books so it's not like you can rub your arms to help you out a little. They were complaining about Hunham, who they so endearingly nicknamed “Walleye.”

“Hey, guys, hold up for a second,” Angus tells the young kids in front of you. He sets his, and your things, down on the grimy paved road. He searched through his pockets and lit a cigarette. “Want one?” he asks you and Kountze.

“No. I got something else. Give me that,” he grabs the lighter from him and sparks a joint.

“Hey, don’t smoke that out here. I don't want to get busted by Walleye.”

“Don’t be such a pussy,”

“I’m not a pussy, I just don't want to end up at Fork Union paying for your mistake.”

He ignores Angus and instead turns his attention to you instead, “You're not like a total priss right?”

You shake your head. At least you didn’t think you were.

“Alright,” he smirks and stretches his hand out for you to shake, “Teddy Kountze.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. The other unnamed boy is the next to greet you.

“Jason Smith.”

“We know who you are. You want to hit this,” Teddy offers the jock the joint.

Jason scans his surroundings before agreeing, “Uh, yeah.”

“You got a great arm man,” he compliments,

“Yeah, well, it’s just football.”

“How’d you get stuck holding over?”

“I’m supposed to be skiing with my folks up at Haystack, but my dad put his foot down. Said I can’t come home unless I cut my hair.”

“So why don’t you cut your hair?

“Civil disobedience, man.”

“I dig that,” you comment. “You know that when they tried to cut that tree between our schools, I organized the tree-sitting.”

“Holy shit that was you? Figured it was some hippies from Boston,” Teddy snickers.

“Nope. I sat in that tree for hours, drinking from water bottles that Angus tossed up to us.”

“Did it work?” Jason wonders.

“For now, yeah.”

“Awesome…. But no, he’s cool. It’s just a battle of wills. Still, I was hoping he’d cave first, because the powder up at Haystack is so sweet right now.”

“What about you, Mr. Moto? Why are you here?” Teddy asks one of the first-year boys.

He appears embarrassed to be singled out, “No, my name is Ye-Joon. My family is in Korea, and they think it’s too far for me to travel alone.”

“I figured it was because your rickshaw was broken,” Teddy laughs to himself. Angus didn’t exaggerate when she said this guy was a jerk.

“What a rickshaw?”

Angus intervenes, “You’re an asshole, Kountze. Your mind’s a cesspool and a shallow one at that.”

“Who’s the asshole Tully? You’re the one who blew up history.” Jason notices the tension and brings the group's conversation back to the freshman.

“What’s your story man?”

“Alex Ollerman. I’m here because my parents are on a mission in Paraguay. We’re LDS. “Mormons, right?” Alex nods yes.

“Don’t you guys wear some kind of magic underwear?” It's like Teddy loves to hear himself talk, you think.

“Common misconception. Actually, it’s called a temple garment, and we’re only supposed to wear it when-.”

“Hey, what's with the townies?” Kountze spots two men emerging from the chapel with a large, heavy green tree in their grasp.

“Hey, what are you doing with our Christmas tree?” Angus shouts, tapping you on the shoulder in a way that says can you believe this?

“The school sold it back to us. Scotch pine, still fresh.” The stranger shouts back.

“Yeah, we’re going to put it back on the lot. We do it every year.”

“This is the most bullshit ever.”

The boys put out their separate smokes much to the relief of Alex and Ye-Joon. You fall behind the rest of them and Angus naturally finds his place next to yours. You stroll in silence until he decides to break the ice.

“You going to tell me what happened?”

“You tell me first. You were so excited to go on vacation.”

“One word. Stanley.”

You grimace, knowing what that means. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever. They want to spend their honeymoon forgetting my existence then they can do just that. I’m almost an adult anyway. Then I can go anywhere I want anytime.”

“Is that what Judy said?”

“That was the bullshit excuse, yes.”

“Hey, you got me though. We’ll make this fun.”

“We have no tree, Hunham will be breathing down our back, and Kountze hasn’t stopped ogling at you since you arrived. Does that sound like the perfect Christmas to you?”

You laugh softly, “Ignore Hunham and Kountze. As for the tree, we could always Charlie Brown it. What do you think the lavender is here for?” You shake your plant a little. The purple bush sways in the wind.

He smiles, “Yeah… It’s not a bad little tree,” he begins to quote.

“Maybe it just needs a little love,” you say together and break into a fit of giggles.

[fairyrcts]

thinkin bout you, c.s.

by fairyrcts contents - angst, cursing, intended lowercase, use of y/n, 3rd person, mentions of depression

it was 2 am in new york and y/n was just getting home. her day was exhausting to say the least. the struggle of being a full time college student with a job and rent to pay in new york is something that was unimaginable.

she fiddled with her keys, eventually finding her apartment key. she unlocked her door to her roomate, aleah, sat on the couch watching some cheesy rom-com on her laptop. y/n dropped her bag and kicked off her shoes at the door.

y/n stopped in her tracks. "christopher sturniolo?" her voice was slightly shooken.

"hey hey." aleah waved.

"hey, girl. watcha watchin?" y/n's voice rang as she walked to the open kitchen, grabbing a cup and poaring ice water.

"27 dresses. literally never seen this dumb shit before but evangeline wants me to see it."

aleah was the definition of a stud. she was gorgeous, too. dark complexion, curly hair that hung in front of her face and piercings on her plump lips and nose.

evangeline was her girlfriend, who y/n's only met a few times. usually in the mornings after getting very little sleep from their noises filling the small apartment.

"man, that movie's so mid. did we get any mail?" y/n chuckled as she walked back in the living room, sitting in the opposing sofa.

"any mail?"

"uh, one from some credit card company and someone left a note in the crack of the door. said to y/n from chris sturnolo." she spoke, her eyes not leaving the computer.

christopher was her childhood bestfriend. they were in almost every class together since kindergarten. they were inseparable. they did sports together, went to prom together, went to get their drivers license together (guess who didn't pass). they were family, at this point.

after college, she never heard from him again. happy birthdays and merry christmases every year or likes on every post, but not a single text, call, email, anything. she talked to nick and matt regularly, but not chris.

she'd ask how he was and they'd give short, vague, one-word answers. it was unfair, really. because there wasn't another soul on earth that knew her better than chris did, and all that time was wasted.

it's been 3 years without a word. and just now he's contacting her. her mind rambled as to what might have gone wrong, otherwise, there wasn't a reason to speak to her. now, especially. she'd been such a mess after leaving for cornell, and she debated not going to stay with chris. but he convinced her, saying he'll stay in touch and talk to her every day.

so much for that promise.

"uh, yeah, chris sturniolo, sturnolo, stromboli, all the same to me." her roomate shook her out of her thoughts.

"aleah, where's the damn letter?" y/n's voice sounded scared almost, not understanding what's going on.

"over on the bookshelf." aleah pointed to the letter wrapped with a little bow and a stamp in the corner of the boston streets.

her hands hurried and undid the bow, ripping the envelope open and unfolding the letter.

Dear Y/n

There seriously isn't an explanation for my distance. After you left for college I fell into such a state of depression and I don't know why but I was scared to contact you. I mean, you're out doing great big things, NYU and detective criminal type stuff. Meanwhile, I'm still here in Massachusetts, I just moved out of my parents house a year and a half ago and my career is making videos on the internet. I guess it was the jealousy that stopped me from speaking to you or some kind of fear. But all I know is that I miss you, dearly. And I guess this is kind of me asking do you think about me still? Because I haven't stopped thinkin about you.

(p.s. i know i couldve sent this over text but i didnt know if you blocked me or not)

just his handwriting caused tears to stream down y/n's face. the note itself, the words and his explanation made her sob.

she made her way to her room, shutting the door behind her. she reached for her phone in her back pocket and called chris's contact.

it rang three times before he answered. there was silence on his end, soft sobs on hers.

"chris, where the hell are you and why did you answer so late?" she said through sniffles and cries.

"i'm uh, in syracuse right now. we're here with nate for his birthday. i asked matt for your address and uhm, i was waiting for you to call." chris's voice sounded nervous almost.

"so you're.. able to come see me?" she asked to which chris affirmed.

"give me the name of your hotel. i'm coming over." she spoke. her tone wasn't demanding, but chris knew it was a demand.

chris told her the name and room number, y/n writing down each letter. after he had explained the whole thing she hung up without warning. she walked out of her room, her movements were fast as she wiped tears off her cheeks.

"woah, what's up?" aleah asked, concerned.

"i'll tell you when i'm back." y/n brushed her off, grabbing her keys, leaving and shutting the door quite harshly.

she jogged down the stairs, her hand grazing the railings and the other jingling the keys with each step.

she pushed the door that so clearly said pull. the frustration just added to her unexplainable feelings.

"why the fuck won't this shit open!?" she shouted. the small, teenage boy at the front desk squeaked out a few words.

"it's uhm. it's pull. y-you're pushing it." y/n looked down at the sign.

"shut the fuck up, curtis!" she yelled once more, yanking the door and storming out of it.

"dumb ass name." y/n mumbled to herself. she walked hurriedly to her car, clicking the unlock button on her keeys and jumping in the drivers seat.

she turned it on, putting the ignition in reverse. she internally conflicted wether or not to put on music. of course, there was no need for it. buttt to make the whole event more dramatic, she turned on her playlist, thinkin bout you by frank ocean coming in through the speakers.

the music made tears swell up in her eyes. the whole situation was just fucked.

her car sped, running through red lights here and there, honking at any car that was slow or in front of her.

when she arrived at the hotel, she shut off her music and her car, locking it as she slammed the door of it behind her. she pulled the door to the entrance to the entrence of the large hotel, the door refusing to open.

"it's a push door!" the lady at the front desk yelled loud enough to be heard.

"oh, fuck me." y/n groaned, finally opening the door. she stormed inro the elevator, the front desk lady attempting to stop her by shouting 'miss'.

as if that was gonna stop her. y/n pressed the 4 button aggressively, multiple times.

"hurry the fuck up!" she was so out of it, she was yelling at an inanimate button.

when the door started opening, she squeezed herself through the space, looking at the numbers on each door until she found the 103 in a big font.

she knocked hard and loud continuously until the door opening interrupted her.

and now, she was faced with the man who made her, and broke her.

the two stared into one anothers eyes momentarily before y/n brought a hand up and smacked the side of his face.

a 'youch' came out of chris's mouth. he rubbed the side of his face that was now red while y/n began rambling.

"now, what the fuck is wrong with you! i mean, you know better! christopher, holy fuck, where do i even begin with you!?" her voice rang through the halls as she pushed herself into the room.

"i- i don't know." chris's tone was sorrowful, but that wasn't necessarily something she cared about right now.

"you are such a douchebag! i fucking can't believe you. ignoring my calls, texts, letters, everything! the only information i ever got about you was through 10 picture slideshows on instagram and your brothers, who werent much of a help! you can say whatever all you want, but chris, i was so mentally fucked up! i was so behind in my classes, that you know i put a humongous amount of effort into getting into, i was rude and emotional all the time and pushed away people i love and adore because i was so hung up on the thought that you stopped caring and you stopped loving me! you know how terrible of a feeling that is? to believe that the one person you love most in the world doesn't give two damn shits about what you're doing now? do you?!"

she yelled and yelled and yelled as her eyes didn't just shed tears, but boy, they poured.

"n-no, no i don't know how that feels." christopher mumbled as water welled up in his own eyes.

"yeah, and that's because you know i'm incapable of unloving you! you're aware of my love for you, because i reminded you every day. you know i wear my heart on my sleeve and you still pulled this dumb shit! i don't even know how you managed to do such thing! i was at such a terrible place, chris."

her words were less aggressive now as she cried tears of sadness rather than anger. she sat herself on one of the two hotel beds while chris sat beside her. he awkwardly pulled her into a hug, y/n leaning into it immediately.

her head laid in his lap as he rubbed her back, whispering small shushes every now and then while she kept bawling.

"y'know. i've been thinkin' bout you. i never stopped, really. i just- i don't even have an excuse. and you can keep yelling at me, and i'll keep listening, but i can't explain as to why i didn't. i just don't know, y/n." his voice was calm and gentle and his hands glided up and down her side.

once she finally stopped crying, she sat up and wiped her tears. "I'm sorry." chris stated, his eyes meaningful along with his voice.

that's all she wanted to hear.

he pulled her into an embrace once more, engulfing himself in the girl he missed so deeply.

"i was thinkin' bout you, too, y'know." she mumbled into his neck.

and that's all he wanted to hear.

[useless-catalanfacts]

Did you know that the Catalan vault can be found in many buildings of the United States of America?

Here's some examples:

Grand Central Terminal, New York City. Photo from Getty.

Boston Public Library. Photo by Michael Freeman/Boston Public Library.

Ellis Island Registry Room, New York. Photo by Mike Ward on Flickr.

City Hall station of the New York subway. Photo by Michael Freeman.

The Catalan vault is a brick arch that is widely used in traditional Catalan architecture. It's also present in other parts of the Mediterranean, but not as common. Its main characteristic is that it's built with the longest side of the brick facing down (usually, ceilings are made with the shortest side facing down) and with a very gentle curve, resulting in a strong self-supporting vault that allows covering a whole room without needing columns or pillars in a way that would be impossible with other kinds of masonry, and also makes it possible to build it quickly and without needing centering (the wooden structure used to support the vault or arch while it's being built, and which is removed once it's made).

So how did it make its way to the USA?

It was brought by the Valencian architect Rafael Guastavino i Moreno (1842-1908). He had already designed important industrial buildings in Catalonia, including the factory that later became the Industrial School in Barcelona and La Massa theatre in Vilassar de Dalt, among others. At the time, in Catalonia, the Catalan vault was being widely used to cover ceilings in factories.

In 1881, Guastavino moved to New York City (USA), where he used the Catalan vault to cover big ceilings, which made him gain some fame for it. He patented the vault in the USA with the name "Guastavino system".

At the time, Americans were very worried about buildings catching fire, because it often happened and had caused a huge destruction in the Chicago 1871 fire. As a response, in 1883 Guastavino bought a patch of land in Connecticut, built two houses in it using the Catalan vault, and set them on fire. He took photos of the whole process to document it and prove how this architecture style is efficient in the case of fire. He wrote about it in the magazine Decorator and Furnisher and soon won the contest to design the Progress Club's building in New York City, which made him famous among architects in the area.

He created his own company (Guastavino Fireproof Construction Company) which was focused on building the Catalan vault. He was hired for many buildings and this architectural element spread. Most churches with stone vaults built between 1890 and 1940 in the USA were designed by Guastavino's firm, as well as many other buildings across the country, particularly New York and Massachusetts.

He's buried in the St. Lawrence Basilica in Asheville (North Carolina, USA), a building he designed.

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Crossroads:

javier pena x fem/single mom reader

summary: escaping an abusive ex husband isn’t easy, but with the court deaming you full custody and legal guardian of your daughter. it was time for a fresh start. Packing up and moving you and your daughter 1,000 miles away from massachusetts.

Y/N and her daughter Elle had just moved into town, their car packed to the brim with everything they owned. The summer sun blazed down as they drove along the highway, filled with hope and anticipation for a fresh start

"Mommy, can I have another chicken nugget?" Elle asked from the back seat, her voice sweet and hopeful.

"Of course, sweetie," Y/N replied, reaching into the bag from McDonald’s that sat on the passenger seat. She handed Elle a chicken nugget, smiling at the sight of her daughter’s delighted face.

"Thank you, Mommy!" Elle chirped, happily munching on her snack.

Y/N continued driving, feeling a momentary peace. They were on the road to a new life, leaving behind the shadows of the past. But as luck would have it, a sudden jolt and a loud thud interrupted their journey. Y/N’s heart sank as she pulled over to the side of the road, realizing they had a blowout.

Stepping out of the car, she was met with the oppressive heat of the 100° day. Sweat trickled down her back as she assessed the situation. The tire was completely flat, and she knew she had to call AAA. After a few minutes on hold, the operator informed her that the wait time was over three hours. Y/N felt tears of frustration welling up in her eyes. She leaned against the car, trying to console Elle through the window.

"Why are you crying, Mommy?" Elle asked, her tiny fingers reaching out to wipe away Y/N's tears.

"Mommy is just stressed, my love," Y/N replied, attempting to smile for her daughter's sake. "We'll be okay, I promise."

As Y/N tried to calm herself and Elle, she heard the rumble of another vehicle pulling over. She looked up, squinting against the sun, to see a large Ford F250 with "Lorayo County Sheriff's Office" written on the side. Relief mixed with apprehension as a tall, broad-shouldered man in a sheriff's uniform stepped out.

"Is everything okay, ma’am?" he asked, his voice carrying a comforting southern drawl.

"Unfortunately, no," Y/N began, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I got a flat tire, and the AAA company says it’s a three-hour wait. It's 100° outside, and I have my daughter here with me. I don’t know what to do."

The officer, whose name tag read 'Javier,' nodded sympathetically. "I can change it for you if you don’t mind."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "You would do that? Thank you so much!"

Javier removed his vest, revealing a muscular build, and went to the trunk to retrieve the spare tire and the necessary tools. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how his strong, capable hands worked with ease, despite the heat. She stood by, trying to keep Elle entertained through the window while stealing glances at Javier, who was now glistening with a light sheen of sweat.

As Javier finished tightening the last bolt, he straightened up and cleared his throat, pulling Y/N out of her reverie. "There you go, ma'am. You're all set."

"Thank you so much," she said gratefully, her cheeks flushing. "I didn’t catch your name?"

"Javier," he replied with a smile that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. "And yours?"

"Y/N," she answered, trying to maintain her composure. "Thank you again, Javier. You really saved us."

"Glad I could help. You ladies be safe now and have a great rest of your day," Javier said, giving a small nod before heading back to his truck.

Y/N watched as he drove away, feeling a mixture of gratitude and curiosity about the kind officer. She climbed back into the car and continued the journey to their new home. Pulling into the driveway, she took a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief and excitement. This house represented a new beginning, a safe haven away from her abusive ex-husband.

With Elle's help, Y/N began to unload the car. Despite her small stature, Elle insisted on carrying some of the lighter items, her enthusiasm infectious. Y/N couldn’t help but smile as they worked together, making trips back and forth until the car was finally empty.

Inside, the house felt like a blank canvas. Boxes were piled high in every room, and Y/N knew it would take time to make it feel like home. She decided to tackle the kitchen first, putting away pots, pans, and dishes while Elle explored her new surroundings.

As the sun began to set, Y/N realized it was time for dinner. Good thing she had placed a Grocery delivery earlier.She placed Elle in her portable high chair and began to cook, asking her daughter about her day as she chopped vegetables. "What do you think of our new house, sweetie?"

"It's big, Mommy! I like my room," Elle said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

After dinner, Y/N ran a bath for Elle. The bathroom echoed with the sound of giggles as Y/N played with her daughter’s toys, creating bubbles and splashes. It was moments like these that made all the struggles worthwhile. "Alright, peanut, it’s time to get out," Y/N said, lifting Elle from the tub and wrapping her in a towel. She covered her daughter’s face with kisses, eliciting peals of laughter.

In Elle’s room, Y/N dressed her in pajamas covered with tiny stars. Elle looked up at her mother with wide, innocent eyes. "You’re so pretty, Mommy."

Y/N's heart melted. "Thank you, my sweet girl," she replied, brushing a strand of hair from Elle’s face.

They settled into a comfortable position on the floor with Elle snuggled against Y/N's chest. Y/N read her favorite book, a story about a brave little bunny, until Elle’s eyes fluttered shut. She gently placed her daughter in bed, tucking her in and kissing her forehead. Turning on the sound machine, she quietly left the room.

In the kitchen, Y/N poured herself a glass of wine and stepped out onto the porch. She took a deep breath, savoring the quiet of the evening. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a flicker of light from her neighbor’s porch a cigarette glowing in the dark. She couldn’t see much else, but it reminded her of the friendly faces she hoped to meet in the coming days.

As she sipped her wine, her thoughts wandered back to Javier, the helpful sheriff. She couldn’t shake the image of his kind smile and strong hands. But before she could dwell too much on him, the baby monitor crackled to life with Elle’s cries.

Y/N quickly rushed inside, her motherly instincts kicking in. She found Elle standing in her portable crib, tears streaming down her cheeks. Y/N scooped her up, whispering soothing words and rocking her gently until she calmed down and drifted back to sleep.

Once Elle was settled, Y/N went through the house, locking doors and turning off lights. She headed upstairs to her bedroom, grateful for the quiet and the chance to finally relax. She took a long, hot shower, letting the water wash away the stress of the day. Afterward, she slipped into her pajamas, completed her skincare routine, and crawled into bed which was on the floor. Furniture would be delivered tomorrow she mumbled to herself.

As she lay there, she thought about the future. She wondered briefly about Javier and if their paths would cross again. With those thoughts, she drifted off to sleep, feeling hopeful about the new chapter unfolding in their lives.

A.N: this is a new series im starting, comment to be added to the taglist

NEXT CHAPTER

[cartermagazine]

Today In History

An impresario in the broadest and most creative sense of the word, Quincy Jones’ career has encompassed the roles of composer, record producer, artist, film producer, arranger, conductor, instrumentalist, television producer, record company executive, magazine founder and multi-media entrepreneur. As a master inventor of musical hybrids, he has shuffled pop, soul, hip-hop, jazz, classical, African and Brazilian music into many dazzling fusions, traversing virtually every medium, including records, live performance, movies and television.

Quincy Jones was born on March 14, 1933, in Chicago, Illinois, and brought up in Seattle, Washington. His musical studies at the prestigious Berklee College of Music in Boston, Massachusetts, afforded him the opportunity to tour with Lionel Hampton’s band as a trumpeter, arranger and sometime-pianist.

He moved to New York in 1951, where his reputation as an arranger grew. By the mid-1950s, he was arranging and recording for such diverse artists as Sarah Vaughan, Ray Charles, Count Basie, Duke Ellington, and Dinah Washington.

Celebrating more than fifty years performing and being involved in music, Jones’ creative magic has spanned over six decades, beginning with the music of the post-swing era and continuing through today’s high-technology, international multi-media hybrids.

Jones has 28 Grammys, including a Grammy Legend Award in 1991, producer of the album Thriller, by the king of pop Michael Jackson and as the producer and conductor of the charity song “We Are the World.

CARTER™️ Magazine

[sitp-recs]

hey!!!

absolutely love love love your recs you are such an amazing human being <3333 i was wondering if you had any recs for drarry in america? i hope you have a great day!! <3

Thank you so much for the lovely message ❤️ I definitely have some recs for you, love this theme. Enjoy!!

Between the Power Lines by @tackytigerfic (M, 3k)

For Harry Potter, all roads eventually lead to Draco Malfoy.

Spooked in Salem by @xanthippe74 (T, 3.4k)

When his holiday with Draco in Salem, Massachusetts, doesn’t go to plan, Harry takes a walk to figure things out. A story about saving someone you love from the ghosts that don’t go bump in the night.

like freedom by softlystarstruck (M, 4k)

Harry doesn’t know the exact moment his life changed. Maybe it was the day Draco Malfoy unwillingly turned up at his front door, or the moment the plane’s landing gear went up and London-Heathrow fell away below them. Maybe it was in the dusty swirl of red rocks and motel rooms somewhere between Tennessee and California.

Nothing Left to Burn by @skeptiquewrites (E, 5k)

Over ten years after their fling crashed and burned, Harry runs into Draco and finds embers still burning bright. Sometimes your ex-lover is (metaphorically) dead. And sometimes it's summertime in Montreal and the past won't let go.

Inside These Walls by RenVeree (M, 5.6k)

The year before Draco moves to Los Angeles, Harry Potter disappears. Draco doesn't mean to find him. He's just doing his job.

in a rambling way by @fw00shy (T, 7.5k)

Ron knocked Hermione up, and now Harry's got to figure out how to clone himself so that his friends don't split up fighting over him. Falling for Draco again was never part of the plan.

in between two tall mountains (there's a place they call lonesome) by @oknowkiss (E, 8k)

In the shadow of a mountain on the Oregon coast, there may or may not lie a shipwreck, on which there may or may not be a magical relic, lost hundreds of years ago. Harry's been tasked with finding it, and Draco is there to take notes, and they're stuck in a campervan pretending to be married, and it's all going to be just fine. That's what Draco's gotten rather good at telling himself, anyway.

Look For Me In The Sun by @wolfpants (M, 9k)

Harry and Draco are on the run in America after a mysterious string of werewolf-like attacks in the Muggle community causes the Ministry to impose new and harsh anti-werewolf legislation. Giant trees, crashing waves, seedy motel rooms, and the long and winding coastal road awaits them, but will they ever be able to go back home?

The Hardest Hue To Hold by @cavendishbutterfly (M, 17k)

Harry needs to get the hell out of England. So he sets up a teaching assistantship in America, hops on a plane, and heads off to a fresh start. Except there’s a familiar face among the university faculty, and it’s really not the familiar face that Harry wanted. Or at least, it’s not who Harry wanted at first.

To Live & Die in LA by @fw00shy (E, 28k)

Someone blackmailed Pansy Parkinson. Pansy's father hires Harry Potter, P.I., to get to the bottom of the scam. But how is Harry's errant ex-boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, involved? And why did Draco run to Los Angeles in the first place?

Faint Indirections by ignatiustrout (T, 30k)

Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expects to turn up in Boston, Massachussetts. But now he's here, and he won't stop requesting books from the library where Harry works.

LA, Who Am I To Love You? by @epitomereally (E, 42k)

Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.

Unseen by RenVeree (T, 47k)

Harry Potter finally has the chance to leave England and its expectations for The Chosen One behind for good. All he has to do is survive one Auror training conference overseas with Draco Sodding Malfoy.

Antediluvia by @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 56k)

Everyone always forgets about the Merpeople. So did Harry until the day his, Lee’s, and Hermione’s Portkeys land at Reagan National Airport’s Arrivals dais. He’s just had to leave a job he loves and pack his entire life—literally—into his luggage. Then Malfoy and his subplots arrive, and suddenly, saving the world again, one Mermaid at a time, sounds like the perfect excuse to do something he’s always wanted. The one with mermaids and DC.

Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters (M, 74k)

A fic about challenging assumptions, discovering self-worth, the silver lining in failing to meet expectations, and finding friendship, love, and purpose in a small Alaskan town that’s steeped in magic.

Knead by laughingd0g (E, 83k)

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.

Left My Heart by emmagrant01 (E, 85k)

Auror Draco Malfoy has disappeared, and Harry Potter has been sent to San Francisco to find him.

Way Down We Go by @xiaq (T, 109k)

In which Harry and Draco both run away from their pasts and conveniently choose to hide in the same tiny American town. It's super.

[mariacallous]

More US workers will soon be free to leave their employers to work for rivals, thanks to a new federal rule that will block the long-standing practice of locking in workers with noncompete agreements.

The US Federal Trade Commission on Tuesday issued a final rule that bans most noncompetes nationwide. The agency estimated that by allowing people more freedom, the change would lead to the creation of 8,500 new businesses annually, an average annual pay increase of $524 for workers, lower health care costs, and as many as 29,000 more patents each year for the next decade.

The FTC says about one in five US workers are bound by contract clauses that prevent them from taking new jobs from a competitor, or starting their own competing businesses, for some period of time. The agreements can trap workers and slow career advancement and wage increases—two things workers often achieve by hopping jobs.

The agreements also disproportionately affect workers in tech and certain other roles: 36 percent of engineers and architects work under noncompetes, as do 35 percent of workers in computer and math fields, according to research from the Universities of Maryland and Michigan.

Under the FTC’s new rule, “tech workers will probably experience a rise in the outside opportunities that they face,” says Evan Starr, an associate professor of business at the University of Maryland who worked on the research. “They’ll have more freedom to work where they want; they will be more likely to be paid higher wages.”

Opponents of noncompetes say they hurt workers by keeping them in lower-waged jobs and also stifle innovation, preventing people from starting their own businesses or putting innovative ideas into practice. Noncompete supporters argue that the arrangements encourage investment in staff and protect trade secrets. But recent research from Starr indicates that banning noncompetes hasn’t led to an increase in trade secret litigation.

The new FTC rule has a carve-out to keep existing noncompetes for senior executives in place. But it blocks companies from creating new noncompetes for these high-level workers. The rule is due to take effect in about four months, but it’s expected to face challenges. Two commissioners who voted against the rule saw it as overstepping the FTC’s power. The US Chamber of Commerce quickly announced after the rule passed that it will sue to try to block it.

Several states, including tech hub California, have already banned enforcement of noncompetes. But a recent tidal shift has seen the issue resonate in dozens of states. In the 2023 legislative session, 38 states introduced 81 bills that sought to ban or restrict enforcement of noncompetes. California’s long-established law is seen as part of the reason Silicon Valley became a hub for innovation, while Massachusetts’s once-similar tech corridor didn’t soar in the same way.

Tech executive Daniel Powers has battled noncompetes twice in his career. In 2010, IBM tried to delay his move from New York to Seattle to work for Amazon Web Services, the online retailer’s cloud division, by a year. The parties settled on Powers taking six months off. Fortunately for Powers, Amazon agreed to pay him even while he couldn’t work.

Two years later, the tables turned. When Powers attempted to take a job with Google Cloud, Amazon sued him, saying he had agreed not to work for one of its competitors within 18 months of leaving. The incident drew headlines as the first noncompete case Amazon had brought against someone inside fast-growing AWS, Powers recalls.

Powers had to move to California—where noncompetes aren’t legal—for the new gig, and his attorney told him to get there as soon as possible. By living in a different state, the lawsuit could be tried in federal court, where his attorney felt Amazon had less of an advantage compared to Washington state court. A federal judge ended up siding with Powers, and he lost only about three months of work at Google while the case played out.

Amazon, IBM, and Google did not immediately respond to requests for comment.

Had Powers not received discounted legal help over the years, he says, he could have easily spent over $100,000 battling noncompetes. “It’s just not fair to the employees,” says Powers, who now runs cloud advisory firm What's Next Consulting. “When I won, I got hundreds of emails and texts from Amazon employees thanking me for beating them.”

People in Washington state who want to leave one of the tech giants often must have difficult conversations with their families, advisers, and potential new employer about the risks of litigation and potentially being without a paycheck for a long stretch. Powers estimates that he has aided over 200 former Amazon and IBM colleagues in the process. California workers have no such concerns. “It’s just, ‘OK, goodbye,’” Powers says. “There’s nothing companies can do about it.”

If the new FTC rule ends up in front of the US Supreme Court, he says, his message to the justices will be simple. “Taking away a person’s ability to work in an industry they are trained in, have skills in, and have been in is a massive disservice to the employee,” Powers says. “It’s not the right thing to do to have these agreements.”

[kingmovers]

King Affordable Movers are moving and packing company in Wenham Massachusetts, As a moving company, we specialize in corporate relocation, residential moving, and commercial moving. So, If you need to move to a new house or make a long-distance move from Boston? What you need is a reliable and professional moving company in Boston.

[zombiipcps]

( layout ib : @/stcpidcupid )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˙ ˖ ✘ . . . MEET THE MEMBERS OF ZOMBIE POP !

Are you a new Survivalist who wants to learn the Zombie Pop members? Are you trying to pick a bias? Well, you're in luck! Here is where you can learn about the prettiest brainless boys of STARBORN CREATIVE and CULT CREATIVE!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˙ ˖ ✘ . . . ETHAN LEE, known professionally as ETHAN, was born as the oldest of three brothers on January 14th, 1997. Growing up, he and his younger brothers developed a love of music through his parents, who were both music historians at a public university in Boston, Massachusetts. In 2014, when he was seventeen, his family moved back to South Korea after his mother was invited to be a guest speaker for a music course at a university in Seoul, giving him and his brothers a chance to audition for entertainment companies, and they were accepted by STARBORN CREATIVE in 2016. Ethan trained for two years before he debuted in Zombie Pop as the main rapper of the group.

STAGE NAME › Ethan

FULL NAME › Ethan Lee

KOREAN NAME › Lee Woosung

BIRTHDAY › January 14th, 1997

BIRTHPLACE › Boston, Massachusetts, USA

NATIONALITY › Korean-American

ETHNICITY › Korean

TRAINING PERIOD › Two years

POSITION ›  Main Rapper

FACE CLAIM › Kim Hosung / Lou (VAV)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˙ ˖ ✘ . . . KIM SEUL-KI, known professionally as SEULKI, was born September 2, 1997 as an only child in Busan, South Korea. Growing up, Seulki was influenced by his father’s intense love for music, something always playing in their home.

With his parent’s support, Seulk started his trainee career at Cult Creative Records in 2014. He was added and removed from serval group line ups throughout his time as a trainee, he was added to his final lineup in 2017 — debuting in 2018 as a main dancer and sub vocalist of the co-managed boy group ZOMBIE POP.

STAGE NAME › Seulki

FULL NAME › Kim Seul-ki

BIRTHDAY › September 2nd, 1997

BIRTHPLACE ›  Busan, South Korea

NATIONALITY ›  Korean

ETHNICITY › Korean 

TRAINING PERIOD ›  Four Years

POSITION › Main Dancer, Sub Vocalist

FACE CLAIM › Yoo Taeyang (SF9)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˙ ˖ ✘    . . .    NATTHAWUT SANGSINGKEO, known professionally as DEAN, was born as an only child on January 8th, 1998. He grew up in a small town, where everyone knew everyone and everyone in the town was deeply religious. Growing up, he had traditional religious beliefs shoved down his throat since he could walk and talk, which did not hinder his love for songwriting. Despite his parents' protests, in 2016, as soon as he turned eighteen, he traveled to South Korea by himself, having been inspired to start his songwriting career thanks to watching BTS and EXO content. He was quickly picked up by STARBORN CREATIVE, and trained to become an idol for two years before debuting in Zombie Pop. 

STAGE NAME  ›  Dean 

FULL NAME  ›  Natthawut Sangsingkeo

BIRTHDAY  ›  January 8th, 1998 

BIRTHPLACE  ›  Phuket, Thailand 

NATIONALITY  ›  Thai 

ETHNICITY  ›  Thai 

TRAINING PERIOD  ›  Two years

POSITION  ›  Main Vocalist, Composer 

FACE CLAIM  ›  Boun Noppanut (actor)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˙ ˖ ✘ . . . HONG INSEO, known professionally as INSEO, was born March 23rd in 1998, as the youngest and only boy of four. Inseo grew up around the arts; his sisters all taking part of some form of dance, while his father taught piano. It was his mother who pushed him to become a singer, she’d signed him up for vocal lessons at an early age. It, too, was her idea for him audition for music labels.

After a short stint at Cube Entertainment in 2016, he began training at Cult Creative in 2017; debuting not long after he joined. Inseo debuted as a sub rapper and composer of the Cult Creative and STARBORN CREATIVE boy group ZOMBIE POP in 2018.

STAGE NAME › Inseo

FULL NAME › Hong Inseo

BIRTHDAY › March 23rd, 1998

BIRTHPLACE › Seoul, South Korea

NATIONALITY › South Korean

ETHNICITY › Korean

TRAINING PERIOD › Six months

POSITION › Sub Rapper, Composer

FACE CLAIM › Ji Changmin / Q (The Boyz)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˙ ˖ ✘ . . . CHA DONGYOON, known professionally as ECHO, was born as the middle child of three siblings on April 18th, 1999. Growing up, he didn't see his parents often, as they focused more on work and relied on babysitters and relatives to raise their children as they went to work long hours, leaving him and his older brother and younger sister to rely on everyone but them. He grew up as a shy kid, finding solace in music — more specifically, the orchestra. He quickly developed a love for the violin while in school, eventually moving to Seoul with his aunt and siblings and busking with his siblings in the streets of the city with the violin he received as a birthday gift from his paternal grandparents. They were eventually scouted by STARBORN CREATIVE in 2016, and Dongyoon trained for two years before debuting as the lead vocalist and dancer of Zombie Pop.

STAGE NAME › Echo

FULL NAME › Cha Dongyoon

BIRTHDAY › April 18th, 1999

BIRTHPLACE › Gumi, North Gyeongsang, South Korea

NATIONALITY › Korean

ETHNICITY › Korean

TRAINING PERIOD › Two years

POSITION › Lead Vocalist, Lead Dancer

FACE CLAIM › Kang Yeosang (ATEEZ)

( tw. mentions of drugs + alcohol, implied child abandonment + abuse )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˙ ˖ ✘ . . . YANG HYUNWOO, known professionally as NOIR, was born as the middle child of three brothers on September 15th, 1999. When he was four years old, his father walked out on their family, leaving him to fend for himself as his mother had become addicted to hard drugs and alcoholism and did nothing to care for her three young sons, going as far as to taking out her anger on them daily.

In 2017, Hyunwoo was accepted into STARBORN CREATIVE after he and his younger brother Hyunjae applied in secret. Both were accepted, and Hyunwoo trained for one year before debuting in Zombie Pop.

STAGE NAME › Noir

FULL NAME › Yang Hyunwoo

BIRTHDAY › September 15th, 1999

BIRTHPLACE › Daejeon, South Korea

NATIONALITY › Korean

ETHNICITY › Korean

TRAINING PERIOD › One year

POSITION › Main Dancer, Lead Vocalist

FACE CLAIM › Yeo Hwanwoong (ONEUS)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˙ ˖ ✘ . . . HARANO AKIRA, known professionally as AKIRA, was born on August 8th, 2000. Growing up, he was a lonely child, relying only on his mother for everything, and vice versa. His only solace throughout life was music, as he picked up piano, cello, and violin, among other instruments. He also took up songwriting, oftentimes writing more song lyrics than notes in school. In 2016, he and his mother moved to South Korea, and he went to live with some of his friends who ran away and had reunited with him. There, they all shared an apartment together as they looked for jobs, and Akira ended up auditioning for STARBORN CREATIVE to be a composer. The company was more interested in his ability to dance, however, and was accepted as a trainee. He trained for a year before debuting as Zombie Pop's maknae.

STAGE NAME › Akira

FULL NAME › Harano Akira

BIRTHDAY › August 8th, 2000

BIRTHPLACE › Sapporo, Japan

NATIONALITY › Japanese

ETHNICITY › Japanese

TRAINING PERIOD › One year

POSITION › Maknae, Lead Dancer

FACE CLAIM › Kimata Syoya (JO1)

[cohenatwood]

Clexa Fanfic Series: something wicked (this way comes)

Synopsis: After the death of coven leader Thelonius Jaha, Gustus Woods' banishment from Polis, Massachusetts is lifted and he moves back with his two daughters, Anya and Alexandria Woods, who have no idea of their family lineage or the prophecy that had been foretold long before either were born.

Chapter 4: midnight séance (words: 8,746)

Clarke and Lexa hold hands on the docks, looking out into the ocean as they enjoy their own cones of gelato. Clarke offers her cone to Lexa, who licks the raspberry flavor. She offers her’s to Clarke who scrunches up her nose.

“No thank you, only you would get some weird tiramisu flavor.” Clarke remarks. Lexa laughs and rolls her eyes.

“It’s good! Come here, try it.” Lexa uses her hand that is holding Clarke’s to bring her closer as Clarke squeals and laughs as Lexa shoves the cone in her face, smearing it on Clarke’s nose and lips.

“Lexa!” Clarke exclaims, laughing but never actually trying to get away. Clarke licks the flavor off her lips, and jokingly pouts about the gelato on her nose. Lexa chuckles, leaning in to lick it off.

“There, all clean. It was good though wasn’t it.” Lexa smirks. Clarke rolls her eyes and laughs.

“Whatever you want to think, Lex.” Clarke guides them to sit on a bench that overlooks the water, watching the boats leave the harbor and some coming back in. The two sit together, just enjoying each other’s company and finishing their gelato. It had been a few weeks since the dinner. Summer was starting to come to a close, and since they had decided to pull back a little on investigating, they’ve been spending all their time together. Clarke teaching Lexa more spells, Lexa researching spells Clarke hadn’t known about, the two practicing together. Going on dates and learning more and more about each other. Clarkes learned about the time Lexa had a bad concussion during soccer that she forgot how to read for half a day. Lexa knows about the time Clarke cried because her kindergarten crush named Riley didn’t want to be her valentine. Lexa knows that when Clarke is nervous, she chews on her bottom lip, Clarke knows when Lexa is frustrated, she works her jaw from side to side.

Continue reading here!

[sacredbbl]

Love At First Gig

Josh Kiszka X Y/N

TW: oral, sexual intercourse, sub , Alcohol, Marijuana

.

.

.

.

Love at First Gig

Chapter 1

Y/N POV

You watch the clock as it hits 4:30. Procrastinating the reports that you have to get done by Monday. Tapping your fingers to your desk you think about how the last month has been.

Moving to a new city is hard not to mention breaking up with your fiancé in the middle of the process. You always had a hard time with confrontation ; so when you found out that Derek had a whole other family that you didn’t know about.

You decided to start a whole new life . Leaving the engagement ring on the counter you moved all your possessions into your car and left. You were able to transfer to another branch of the company. You felt that Nashville would be different.

So within a week you drove all the way from Massachusetts to Nashville, Tennessee, found an apartment that was perfect for you and started your first week at a new branch.

Suddenly you heard a voice speak to you from the cubicle next to you. You didn’t need to look up to know it was Priyanka. She was the first person to speak to you when you started. Well one of the only people who are nice to you in this office.

“Hey Y/N , I know you are new to Nashville, Do you want to come with Kyle and I to a local bands gig tonight? They are really good!” She asks

Just as you were about to answer Kyle popped up from the other cubicle.

“Yeah the lead singer is wicked hot.” He chuckles.

You were super happy you met Kyle. He understood your sense of humor since he was also from Massachusetts.

“I mean it wouldn't hurt to have a rebound hookup, “ Priyanka suggested with a wink.

They knew what happened to get you to move here.Both Priyanka and Kyle had become your friends within the last week.

“I don’t know about a rebound but I could use a little fun!”

“Awesome, meet at my apartment at eight! Ill send you the address!” Priyanka whispered as your boss Charlie strolled past your cubicle. Suddenly, you were looking forward to tonight .

You looked at your monitor and noticed it was already five. You packed your belongings in your backpack and headed towards the busy street. As you walked into the warm Nashville breeze you put your headphones on and turned on your playlist.

You quickly made it to your apartment building; going up the elevator and walking into your apartment. You threw your backpack on the floor near the door and made your way to the bedroom making your way through the maze of boxes all around the floor. You stopped at the box labeled tops, you knew exactly which one you wanted to wear to the bar tonight.

You dug through the box until you found the black lacy corset top. You paired it with a pair of black boyfriend jeans and a belt. By the time you finish your makeup and hair it is already 7:30.

Shit I am going to be late you thought as you pulled up your phone and ordered an Uber. Taking a deep breath and a hit of your pen you walked down to the street to wait for your Uber.

Josh POV

You wake up with a pounding headache as your usual hangover kicks in.Going into the kitchen you find your old reliable, aspirin. You opened your aspirin bottle and took a few with a swig of tequila. Jake’s voice cut through the grogginess of your brain.

“Hair of the dog ,right brother?” He chuckled.

You would not say you were an alcoholic but it definitely helped you live with your choice of skipping college to make it big with your band.

Except you didn’t make it big you played the same three bars every week. You’d thought you'd have taken off by now but you were still struggling to make rent and eat.

Today was Friday, you would play a gig at Murphy's bar just like you have done a thousand times. Talk to the same thirty people , get drunk and do it all over again on Saturday. You looked at your apartment and wondered how you got to this point in your life.

You shared a tiny one room apartment with the three other members of the band. You and Jake slept in one room , Danny slept in the huge walk in closet and Sammy slept on an old mattress in the kitchen. It wasn’t much but it was better than being on the street.

Finally arriving to the show, you greeted the usuals - the men who sat in the corner, the women who sat by the windows, the teenagers who had managed to make their way in with a fake ID.

You watched Jake set up his guitar, tuning it as he always did. It was going to be another long night.

As the lights dimmed slightly, you began, the same routine as always. You drew your eyes through the crowd, playing the same old songs you always did. By now, the regulars had learned the words, singing along with you.

One day it’ll be a stadium, one day it’ll be people you don’t recognise, one day it’ll be people who come out just for you, and not to just have a drink.

You watched your brothers as they played, engrossed in the music. Perhaps they didn’t care as much as you did, maybe they weren’t as concerned with making it big. Regardless of the size of the venue, you still gave it your all, wrapping your fingers around the microphone as you made

your way across the stage.

It was then that you saw her.

Someone new. A whole group of new people.

It instilled a new motivation in you, these were people that you knew you could draw in, people that you could have coming back for more.

And so, you found yourself giving it everything that you had, watching them intently.

“She is a lady, comes from all around

So many places, but she’s homeward bound.

And now she walks kinda funny

I think she knows

Day by day by day

Our love grows

She’s a lantern in the night

She’s out of sight”

You seemed to catch her attention with that one, with the group making their way to table not far from the stage.

As they ordered their drinks, you noticed her looking up at you, her eyes falling downward when you met her gaze. You couldn’t help the gentle smirk that crossed your lips - Gotcha.

As the group drank, you found her stealing glances at you, a soft blush covering her cheeks.

Y/N POV

You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him as he sang - there was something about the way that he moved, something about the passion that was dripping from his lips.

You could easily tell that he was in love with his job - seemingly having the best time of his life. You found yourself standing as he sang, your drink in hand.

You made your way towards the stage, swaying before him, feeling the bass vibrating under your feet. You could feel your friend’s eyes on the back of your head, but you didn’t care - all that you could feel was the music. You were the only one stood - the only one who was dancing.

As he sang, he caught your eye once more, making his way towards the front of the stage, mimicking you. You hadn’t noticed him leaning down towards you, his head just above yours, his eyes studying your face.

“As the days pass by my mind

Are the wrong, the right, you are my sunshine

And as the night begins to die

We are the morning birds that sing against the sky”

The grin that spread across your lips was indescribable. You decided at that moment that you absolutely had to have him - regardless of what you would have to do, he would be yours. He seemed to catch your drift, passing you a small scrap of paper -

“Meet me backstage.”

You didn’t need much convincing, sending your friends a quick nod, before moving towards the small room in the back. It was quiet in there - a few instruments strewn around, some solo-cups filled with unrecognisable liquids.

You found yourself sitting down onto the couch as you waited for him, crossing your legs. You raised your cup to your lips, allowing the liquid to fill your mouth. As the crowd clapped, you became nervous - What would you say to him? Good job? You could tell that he knew he was good - he didn’t need the extra reassurance.

Before you could decide on what move you’d make, the door opened. The youngest of the group was first, gently placing his bass down onto the ground, leaning it against the wall.

He found your eyes, furrowing his eyebrows at you.

“Who the fuck are you? What’re you doing here?”

You weren’t too sure what to say, simply looking up at him. Stuttering over your words, you were glad when somebody else began to speak. The drummer, it seemed.

“Sam, don't be so rude. You can’t tell me that you didn’t see Josh making eyes at her literally all night long - you know damn well why she’s here” he laughed, elbowing the bassist in the ribs. The younger huffed, making his way through the door. Taking just a moment to catch your breath, another walked in - his hands running through his hair.

“I assume you’re here for my brother.” he hummed, his eyes barely visible over the sunglasses that adorned his face. You simply nodded, before he spoke again.

“Jake. Nice to meet you.” You nodded towards him, gushing about how much you had loved the set. A soft smile crossed his face, clearly appreciative that somebody new was finally listening.

Josh POV

It wasn’t normal for you to be the last one backstage. But knowing she was going to be there made you nervous. Sure you had talked to many girls before but this one seemed different than others.

You found yourself wanting to know everything about her. As you made your way backstage you grabbed a drink for yourself and chugged it trying to make yourself feel confident.

Finally you swallowed your nerves and opened the door . You found her sitting on the couch talking to Jake. They seemed to get along but as soon as Jake saw you he excused himself to the bar for his nightcap.

This would be the first night that you would not get absolutely trashed and you didn’t care. You break the silence in the room.

“Hey gorgeous, I’m Josh, I-”

She cuts you off.

“Josh I know who you are,you introduced yourself like five times throughout your set.” She chuckled

You run your fingers through your hair. You’ve realized you have gotten a funny one.

“ Well, how did you like the show?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

“ I loved it, you are a genius like a lyrical genius. I’m surprised you aren’t touring all over the place!” You could tell she meant what she said her eyes lit up as she spoke to you. The conversation felt natural. You sat next to her on the couch and talked for hours, never getting sick of each other. She was special. All of a sudden you felt your phone vibrate. So you quickly excused yourself to answer the messages.

2 new messages in the band chat

Jake: Hey dick where are you?

Danny: Dude we are leaving, are you coming?

You quickly type your answer not wanting to leave her alone.

You: No; I have to talk to the manager about our pay. Leave without me. I will let you know when I’m on my way home.

Sam: Dude you can’t seriously think we believe you.

Danny: You fucker, you can’t use our trick and then lie to us. You are gonna fuck her backstage.

You could tell they were giggling together as they messaged you. You knew this was their go to. Invite girls backstage , then hit it and quit it. But you didn’t want to quit her.

Sam: Dude are you going to ejaculate and evacuate?

Danny: Pump and Dump?!

You shut off your phone not wanting to engage in this conversation anymore and go back to the couch.

Sitting next to her you could not wait any longer and found yourself leaning in for a kiss. You were surprised when her lips crashed into yours with a kind of ferocity that starving animals had.You wanted this to happen.

You wanted her to take what was hers. You wanted her to conquer you. To label you as hers ; In fact that was all you could think of for the last hour . Her.

Y/N POV

You were glad when he finally made a move - having been staring at his lips for the entire night, just waiting for the go ahead.

It was as if he were oxygen, and you hadn’t been breathing all night. Quickly leaning over him, his back was pressed against the leather of the couch, a sense of desperation in his eyes. It was easy to find his soft skin with your lips, getting to work on marking him up.

Deep, purple bruises began to grow on his skin, a soft whine leaving his lips as you worked on him. His hands were firmly placed on your hips, his fingertips pushing bruises into them. Your hand began to wander, one finding its way to his hair, and the other to his groin.

You palmed him slowly, his hips bucking up to meet your touch.

“Please.. Please” he begged, doing his absolute best to not squirm under you.

“Please what?” you teased, your teeth grazing against his skin, causing his hair to stand on edge.

“Please touch me.” he replied, his voice low.

You did as you were commanded, not wanting to leave him waiting for any longer. Your fingertips made quick work of unbuckling his belt, sliding into his pants. You took him into your hand, stroking him slowly.

You couldn’t believe the noises that left his lips - such filth for such a pretty boy. He was so desperate, his body pushing up into your hand, begging for more. You complied with his wishes, hooking a finger around your panties and pulling them to the side.

You were soaking already, slowly sitting onto him. His head fell back, as you moved slowly, teasing him. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, as he finally caught his breath, pushing his hips up further.

A low moan erupted from your throat, which only seemed to make him more desperate - clearly eager to please. He was so good for you, doing exactly as he was told to do every time that you moved.

He was addicting - every noise that fell from his lips was beautiful, a symphony of begs, and moans. You couldn’t help yourself, your hand finding his hair once again, tangling the tight curls around your fingers.

His eyes widened slightly, finding yours. You simply smirked at him, before tightening your grip, grazing your nails across his scalp.

“I…I’m gonna-” he began, before you cut him off, placing your lips onto his once more. “Wait. Wait for me” you hummed, kissing his jawline, with him nodding quickly, wanting nothing more than to make you happy. You loved how receptive he was, how willing he was to behave. You had him wrapped around your little finger already.

As you could feel yourself reaching your peak, you leaned down to him, whispering soft praise. His eyebrows furrowed, his head falling back once more.

“Come on, baby, cum for me” you whispered, your mouth barely touching his ear.

And so, he did, his body almost shaking, joining you in riding it out. You pulled yourself up once you were done, pulling him up onto your chest, switching the previous position. As he rested his head in the crook of your neck, he sighed softly, his eyes falling closed. You stayed there for a few moments until you realized what time it was.

“Shit I gotta go!” You say in a hurry, grabbing you things, and making your way out into the bar.

Josh POV

As you catch your breath, you wondered why she had left so quickly. You buckled your belt, and got your things together. You didn’t have much, but everything you had was sentimental to you. Making your way out into the bar you were hit with the bustle of the crowd. Music was blasting as you made your way to the door. Rich, the bar manager, pulled you aside.

“Hey kid, there was a guy who wanted to speak with you tonight. He’s from some record label. Don’t get too excited.. but he’s coming down tomorrow to listen to you guys again. You better put on a good show; in other words, try not to be absolutely shitfaced on stage tomorrow.”

You nod your head. “Absolutely Rich; see yah tomorrow!”

You tried to act normal on your walk home. A record label agent wanted to hear you and your brothers play. This was what you had been waiting for. This may be your big break. You had had multiple labels turn you down before but this one seemed different.

You felt different. You couldn’t help thinking about Y/N . Why was she of all people on your mind? You were clearly just a hook-up to her. As you made your way into the apartment, Jake, Danny, and Sammy were sitting in the living room, drinking a beer and watching a movie. Sammy noticed you first.

“Aye, look, it's the man of the hour!”

“How was your first time hooking up with a groupie?” Danny chuckled

“Was it everything you ever wanted and more!” Jake added, sarcastically.

You knew they’d do this. You weren’t usually the one to have random hook ups. You caught feelings too quickly. Your brothers, on the other hand, they had fucked just about the entire city of Nashville between the three of them.

“Well she isn’t a groupie; it was her first time seeing us!” You shot back. The boys laughed at you trying to defend Y/N.

You quickly changed the subject.

“Rich caught me on my way out, said there was a record label agent who liked our sound and is coming back tomorrow to hear more of us! So I suggest you put down those beers. We really have to be on our A game tomorrow.”

A wave of silence overtook the room until Sammy spoke up.

“Not to be an asshole, Josh, but how do we know this guy will be different? I mean, we’ve had at least a dozen agents listen to us and not one has signed us. Do you think this time will be any different?”

“Sammy, maybe this’ll be our chance! Why are you all so negative?” You responded.

“Josh no offense but we are just being realistic . You know, not getting our hopes up to be let down like all the other times before.” Danny responds .

You knew you had been let down before but you could just feel that tomorrow would be different.

You gave up on trying to get the boys to be positive, and made your way into your bedroom. Laying down on your bed you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how you could make it big someday, and, of course, about her.

Why was your mind so fixed on her? You knew it would be a one night stand and you’d probably never see her again. But you couldn’t stop thinking about her. You wanted her again. You drifted asleep thinking about your future and what happened backstage tonight. Your time had finally come.The world was going to know the name Josh Kiszka sooner, rather than later.

Y/N POV

You barrelled out into the bar and practically ran towards Priyanka and Kyle.

“Where the fuck were you?” Priyanka asked

As you pondered how to answer, Kyle interrupted your thinking.

“Oh My FUCKING God! “ He said shocked

“You Fucked him! You fucked Josh! Oh My GOd Y/N!” He continued to yell at the top of his lungs.

You felt yourself blush as you tried to quiet him down.He pushed a drink towards you and sat on the barstool.

“Well you have to tell me everything. Josh doesn’t fuck just anyone he’s not a man whore like his brothers.” He sat waiting for your attention.

“I didn’t say I fucked him” you responded trying not to blush out if embarrassment.

“Oh you totally did, I can tell! You look well… happier.” He responded.

“Kyle let it go! She doesn’t have to tell you if she doesn’t want to?” Priyanka tried to make him back off, but it was no use. One thing you knew about Kyle was that if there was gossip, he would hear about it. You chuckled.

“Okay I’ll tell you, but we have to get out of here. How about pizza?” As your suggestion speaks to the stomachs of your friends. You three finished your drinks and walked over to the late night pizza shop next door. While eating the greasy pizza. you found yourself telling your friends all about your escapade backstage.

How much you liked him, and his….. performance. But you wondered if you would ever see him again. Once you finish your pizza you stumbled into an Uber and into your apartment. Tripping over unpacked boxes, you made your way towards your bed.

You collapsed into your bed, and stared at the ceiling thinking about josh and how tonight changed your life. You wanted to see him again but you knew you were just a hookup. He was an up and coming rockstar he probably fucked alot of other girls . You knew you meant nothing to him so you decided to not make it awkward and hide your feelings.

As you fell asleep you promised yourself that he was nothing to you and it was just a hookup. It was just the alcohol talking, he was just a guy, and it was just one night.

Josh POV

As you woke, you basically jumped out of bed. Excited for the day to come, you woke up earlier than usual.

You decided to check the clock: 9:30. You couldn’t remember the last time you woke up this early. You left your room to realize no one else was awake. You decided you were hungry, and so, you made your way to the local bagel shop and joined the line that was almost out the door.

As you looked at the menu you noticed someone familiar smiling at the barista who was giving them their caffeinated drink. Then it hit you.

SHIT. It was Y/N.

Do you go say hello? Do you ignore her? What do you do?

The extrovert in you decided you needed to go say hello. I mean you had your dick inside her not even twenty four hours ago the least you could do is say hello.

So, you grab your bagel and coffee and make your way to where she was sitting. She was sitting alone. Working on her laptop, she sat silently with her headphones on and she was oblivious to what was happening around her.

You reached out and tapped her on her shoulder. She jumped a little with your touch and turned around.

“Hey Y/N! How’s your morning?” You greeted her with a smile, quickly noticing that she didn’t look happy to see you.

“Oh. Hey Josh. I’m busy right now, can we talk later?” She responded, turning back to her computer.

“Uh… sure” you reply hesitantly

You pulled a pen from your bag, and scribbled a note on your receipt, before sliding it to her. She half smiled at you and shoved it in her pocket.

You couldn’t help but feel a little defeated. Why was she acting like this? Did last night mean nothing to her? In fairness, maybe it shouldn’t have meant anything to you either.

You exited the bagel shop into the busy streets of Nashville, trying to hide the tear that ran down your cheek. You made your way back to the apartment, now feeling a lot less optimistic than you were an hour ago.

By the time you made it home, the boys were all awake. You gave your bagel to Danny and Sam to split, due to having lost your appetite. Taking a single glance at your face, Jake could tell that something had upset you. Being twins, and as close as you were, you could basically communicate without talking. He broke the silence.

“Shit,it's the girl isn’t it?”

You nod your head.

“I warned you not to invite her backstage! You know you catch feelings too easily!”

You quietly responded, looking down towards the floor.

“I just thought that it would be different this time, I don’t know. ”

He sat you down, and gently placed a hand onto your shoulder.

“Dude, all girls who sleep with someone in a band are mostly girls who only do one night stands. Either keep away from girls at our gigs or start not catching feelings.”

[allthingsfangirl101]

Simply Lovelorn–Keys

Keys' POV

I looked over at Y/N, my stomach doing a weird flip when a piece of hair fell in front of her face. I had to resist the urge to reach forward and move it for her. I took a deep breath as she tucked that hair behind her ear and fixed her glasses. I let out a small laugh, making Y/N look at me when I noticed it.

"What?" She asked.

I grabbed a nearby rag and used my water bottle to wet it. Using the rag, I cleaned the paint off her cheek.

"Thanks," she whispered. I laughed as she instantly went back to the painting she was working on. My heart jumped into my throat when she started humming her favorite song, Fantasy by Mariah Carey.

I've known Y/N most of my life. She moved in a few houses down when we were in middle school. Her dad started working with my dad. At first, we didn't really know each other. Our dads worked together, sure. Our moms would talk if they ran into each other at the store. But Y/N and I didn't talk.

Until the company picnic the summer after they moved here. I was eating a hamburger when I looked over and noticed her drawing in the dirt in the garden nearby.

"Whatcha doin'?" I asked. Y/N jumped and looked up at me.

"Drawing," she stuttered.

"You're really good."

"Thanks," she blushed as she looked away and went back to drawing in the dirt. I sat next to her and watched her.

After that picnic, when school started up again, I saw Y/N eating lunch alone. I walked over and sat with her. Ever since then, we've been inseparable.

Four years ago, Y/N and I got an apartment and moved to Cambridge together. I started going to MIT while Y/N started going to the Massachusetts College of Art and Design in Boston.

Y/N wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to do once she got her degree. She talked about opening a gallery. She also talked about becoming an illustrator for children's books. She wasn't sure. I, on the other hand, knew exactly what I wanted to do. My plan was to code a video game that changed the world.

I was almost done with the game I started my senior year. I looked away from my laptop when Y/N put her paintbrush in the cup of water.

"What are you thinking for dinner?" She asked, rolling her shoulders.

"I'm not hungry," I mumbled, going back to altering my code. I heard Y/N giggle but I didn't look up.

"Keys," she sighed. She moved next to me on the couch and slowly closed my laptop. "You haven't eaten anything since I got home from class. Five hours ago."

"I'm fine," I said as I started to open my laptop again. Y/N sighed as she instantly closed it.

"Walter," she whispered, "I know how stressed you are, but you have to eat. How about I make that pasta dish you always scarf down?"

I looked at her worried eyes and my heart melted. Even before we moved in together, Y/N has always taken care of me. She constantly put me ahead of her, even though I begged her not to. It's what helped me fall in love with her. That and how protective I was of her.

"How about I help?"

                                * * * * *

Three days later, I was still glued to my laptop. The door opened and I instantly heard Y/N quietly singing.

"But it's just a sweet sweet fantasy baby. When I close my eyes, you come and you take me. It's so deep in my daydreams. But it's just a sweet, sweet fantasy baby."

I listened to Y/N's voice echo through the apartment, but I kept typing away.

"Keys?" Y/N stopped singing and called out. "You home?"

"In my room," I called back. I heard my door open more but didn't turn around. Y/N sighed as she walked in. She gently put her hands on my shoulders and leaned her chin on the top of my head.

"I was going to ask you what you're doing," she whispered, "but I could answer that question myself. You're working on your game."

"I'm so close," I sighed.

"You said that three months ago," Y/N mumbled. She stood up and hesitated before squeezing my shoulders. I turned around as she started to leave.

"Y/N," I sighed, "please don't do that."

"Do what?" She asked, wrapping her arms around herself and turning toward me.

"You hate when I get hyper-focused on a code," I said, leaning my elbows on my knees.

"You stop eating," she said, looking at her shoes. "Don't you remember the last time you got focused on a code? It was your senior project. I came home from class and you were barely conscious. I had to call an ambulance."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"At least take a break," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Please? I ordered a pizza. It should be here soon. Come take a break and eat something. We could watch a movie or something."

My heart sank when she rubbed her arms. She only did this when she started to overthink something. She looked up, her eyes hopeful when I stood up. I grabbed her hand and led us to the other room. We sat on the couch and started looking for a movie.

Two movies and an entire pizza later, Y/N started to fall asleep. I leaned her over so she was resting on my shoulder. I looked down and my heart got caught in my throat when I saw her smiling in her sleep. This was another thing I secretly loved about Y/N.

If I were to create a video game character based on Y/N, she wouldn't necessarily be the one that everyone wanted to be. She would be the one that only the best players used. The one that, if you knew how incredibly amazing she was, she'd be unstoppable.

I turned the movie off and sighed. I looked over at Y/N and moved some hair out of her face. I couldn't resist as I leaned down and kissed her forehead.

I carefully sat up and picked her up bridal style. I froze when she cuddled more into my chest. I carried her down the hall and to her room. I softly kicked her door open and walked in. I laid her down and slowly pulled her blanket up to her chin.

After watching her sleep for a few beats, I forced myself to leave her room. I went back to coding my game but my mind was on Y/N.

Before I even knew what love was, Y/N became the girl of my dreams. It wasn't until high school that I realized it. High school was when Y/N blossomed. She became the legendary artist at our school. Whenever the student council wanted a mural painted, they called her. She was the star of every student art show.

Which means, every "artsy" guy was after her. Every day, a new guy was talking to her, walking her to class, or offering to hold her books. They only did it once. Because after, I'd threaten them to leave her alone. She didn't know about any of this.

Then again, I didn't know why I was doing it either until I was telling my mom about some football player who asked Y/N to be his partner for a history project. The entire time I was ranting about how he was going to hurt her, my mother had a knowing smile on her face. My mom was the one who pointed out that I might want to be more than friends with Y/N.

I realized she was right. I tried to avoid Y/N the next day, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't handle going one day without her. Every day I'm with her, I'm more alive than I've ever been.

Y/N changed me. She made me the kind of guy I'd never thought I'd be. And I didn't hate it.

                                * * * * *

A week later, I was finally finished with my game. I had Y/N look at the graphics before sending it to a couple of different gaming companies. Ever since I sent them, I have been a nervous wreck. Y/N tried to help distract me but when she went to class, I was on my own.

Tonight, Y/N was having a student gallery. Each senior gets their own hallway in one of the buildings at the college. Y/N was really excited but even more nervous. She's always been nervous when showing other people her artwork. She didn't need to be worried. All of her paintings were beautiful.

I walked around the gallery, not really looking as I headed toward Y/N's hallway. I instantly knew when I got to Y/N's section. I've seen her working on some of them at home. I stopped, cold in my tracks when I saw one of her paintings.

"Do you like it?"

I turned around to see Y/N standing there. She was in a beautiful cocktail dress that flared out at her hips. She was nervously playing with her hands.

"I have seen you working on every single one of these," I whispered, unable to find my voice, "but I've never seen this one."

I turned back toward the painting on the wall. It was a watercolor of her and me.

A few weeks ago, I came home and Y/N wasn't there. I tried calling her but she didn't answer. After about half an hour of worrying and getting sicker by the minute, I knew where she was. I found her at the park by our apartment building, slowly swinging. I could tell by the look on her face that she was struggling. I didn't say anything. I walked over and sat next to her on the other swing. We sat there, slightly swinging for what felt like hours.

Growing up, Y/N and I always hung out on that swing set. In this particular moment that she captured, she was picking the petals off a flower while I gazed at her. If you hadn't been there, you wouldn't have known it was of me and her. You would've seen a girl and a boy swinging. But I saw one of my favorite moments with the girl of my dreams.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," she said softly as she stepped up next to me.

"It's amazing," I whispered. I reached over and grabbed her hand. My chest tightened as she squeezed it in response.

"I'm really glad you're here," she said under her breath. I looked over and smiled at her. I felt a little bit of pride as I watched her face turn pink.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

I spent the next two hours watching Y/N interact with people viewing her artwork. She was kind, sweet, humble, and extremely charismatic. I couldn't stop watching her.

As much as I watched her, I watched the watercolor of us on the swings more. Whenever someone walked by it, I felt weird. Almost defensive. Possessive.

"You want to walk around and look at the other galleries?" Y/N asked, walking over to me. "I think I need a break from stressing over what people think."

"Or I can stay here and eavesdrop?" I smirked causing Y/N to laugh. My heart jumped into my throat when she gently touched my arm.

"Thanks," she chuckled, "but I need my emotional support best friend."

I grabbed her hand that was on my arm and looped that arm through mine.

"That's me."

                                * * * * *

Before the gallery closed, I had to do one thing. Once I was done, I stopped by to check on Y/N. Her hands were shaking as she watched her classmates say goodbye to their families and friends. I walked over and grabbed her hand as I stepped up next to her.

"It was a great show," I whispered. "You should be proud."

"You know I'm not a proud person," she teased.

"That's why I'm here," I said, nudging her shoulder with mine. "I get to be proud for you. Of you. And I am."

"Thanks, Keys," she blushed.

"You want a ride home?" I asked, slightly clearing my throat.

"No thanks," she sighed. "I have to help take down and clean up. Then my professor wants to talk about the night. I probably won't be home until later."

My phone started ringing, cutting her off. I sent her an apologetic look before answering it.

"Hello?"

"Is this Walter McKey?"

"This is he," I said, sending Y/N a look. "Who is this?"

"This is Antwan's assistant, Jeremy," the guy greeted. "He would like to set up a meeting at Soonami to talk about buying your game."

"Oh," I said under my breath. I cleared my throat, trying to speak normally. "That would be great. Thank you. What time?"

"Tomorrow, two o'clock."

Before I could say anything else, Jeremy hung up. I slowly lowered the phone away from my ear, still trying to wrap my head around that phone call.

"Who was that?"

"Antwan's assistant," I mumbled. I finally snapped out of it, looking up at Y/N. She laughed when I picked her up and spun her around.

"What is going on?" She giggled as I put her down.

"He wants to buy my game."

"That's amazing!" Y/N cheered as she jumped back into my arms. I spun her around, this time slower. When I stopped, she still had her arms wrapped around me.

"I knew you would get an offer," she whispered. She squeezed me once before breaking the hug. She looked into my eyes, and the longer we stared at each other, the pinker her cheeks got.

"So," she cleared her throat, letting me go and wrapping her arms around herself, "who just bought the best game from the smartest MIT grad?"

"Soonami."

That one word changed Y/N's whole demeanor.

"What?" I asked when I saw the look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"I just. . . Is Soonami really the right publisher for your game?"

I opened my mouth, not entirely sure what I was going to say. Before I could stutter something out, Y/N's professor called for her. Y/N looked over her shoulder at her before glancing back at me. We stared at each other for a second before Y/N sighed and walked away.

                                * * * * *

After leaving Y/N's gallery, I didn't go straight home. I ran a few errands, stalling. I kept going over how fast Y/N's excitement turned to worry. I tried to figure out why she might be nervous about Soonami buying my game.

I walked into our apartment, my stomach sinking when I saw Y/N sitting on the couch with her knees tucked up to her chest. She was eating her favorite kind of ice cream out of the carton with a spoon.

"Bubble gum ice cream?" I asked, putting the groceries on the kitchen table. "That's your sad ice cream. I thought tonight went well."

"It did," she said, looking into the carton. She sighed, placing it on the coffee table before moving so she was sitting on the armrest.

"Is this about Soonami?" I couldn't help but ask. I walked over to the couch and sat on the cushion next to Y/N's armrest. I continued, "Y/N, I know Antwan's reputation, but Soonami is a growing company. They can help boost the game."

"I know that," she said softly, "but you have to admit this isn't where you thought your game would go."

"You're right," I agreed, "but I also know they are the only ones who gave the game a chance."

"There will be others," Y/N tried to reassure me. "Maybe you shouldn't jump at the first offer."

"What if there aren't other companies?" I shrugged. "Look, Y/N, I'm not acting like you aren't as much a part of my game as I am. You have been through everything. You were the one who tore me away from the screen. You were the one to encourage me to get help from Millie. You were the one who helped me design some of the characters. You've been by my side through all of it."

I hadn't noticed I had delicately placed my hands on her knees until I looked down. I instantly removed them.

"Maybe I am jumping into things too quickly," I cleared my throat as I continued. "I just don't want all our hard work to be for nothing."

"What does Millie think about Antwan and Soonami?"

"She's for it," I shrugged. "I'm telling you, Y/N, Antwan is awesome. He said all the right things and. . ."

"Just because he said all the right things, doesn't mean he plans to actually do them," Y/N mumbled as she looked around the house, avoiding my eyes. "I know that this is huge, but your game doesn't seem like it fits their niche. Maybe this can be a stepping stone or. . ."

Y/N stopped talking and froze. She stood up and walked into the kitchen. I held my breath as she pulled something out of my bag. She turned around, still looking at what was in her hands.

"You're the one who bought it?" She asked under her breath. When she looked up at me, she had tears building.

Of course I bought Y/N's painting of us on the swing set.

"What were you. . . When did you. . . Why did you. . . Keys?"

"I had to," I shrugged. "I couldn't let some stranger have it. It's between you and me. It's us."

Y/N looked up at me with tears streaming down her face. I gasped when she dropped her painting on the table before running over to me and wrapping her arms around my neck in a tight hug.

I wrapped my arms around her waist and looked at her painting which was facing up so I could see it. My heart sank when I felt a tear fall onto my shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered. She slowly pulled out of our hug but kept her hands delicately on my shoulders. "You've always been there for me, Keys," she said softly. "You've been my number one fan since you watched me draw in the dirt at that picnic."

"You've always been there for me," I chuckled. "How could I not return the favor?"

Y/N's tears started to fall again as she brought me in for another hug. As I felt her pressed to my chest, depending on me, I knew I'd never let her go. At that moment, I realized what character from my game I would be.

Lovelorn.