#advice like youth probably just wasted on the young

[typewriter-worries]

Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young, Mary Schmich [transcript in ALT]

[scribbleshrimp]

Man I got to know how the story ends, it’s so personal to me I was in love with a guy who not only reminds me of Neil personality wise but even appearance wise. Do you have anything more written for it? All your platforms seem to be defunct and it makes me really sad

The original ending of the story is that they all died tragically young in painful ways because at at point in my life I could have never imagined a happy ending for me or the characters.

But now I have a pretty different ending which I consider 'canon'.

Mallory stops the morgue business and get's into art restoration instead, better use of her skills. Her insides are held together by resin and silicone and a bunch of other funky things that make her smell like oil paint but they are happy, even has a few friends (in person!!! wow!!!) , and reconnected with her father. Also Mallory no longer goes by Mallory! Cut out the 'Mal' part and just goes by Lorey now. Still has extreme CPTSD and is very awkward around people but...she is doing better. Lorey has been experimenting with weird hair styles lately, but always seems to come back to green after awhile. She has also been getting into mushroom foraging, 90% sure she ate a deadly lookalike at some point but she was....fine? Fun implications on what that means for her future. Either way she loves restoring art, and making art herself. She speaks to the paintings, and only misses talking to dead people a littleeee bit.

Efron took all his control issues and projected it onto having an absurd amount of pets. He can micro-manage a dozen terrariums as much as he likes and really enjoys the fact they are dependent on him. He also grew his hair out and ditched the pearls and sweater, any reminders of his mother is something he learned not to cling on to. Also got someee professional help for his identity issues? He realized that he is not in fact the next coming of christ, nor is he a gross reflection of his mother. Still has a massive eating disorder but all the animals are well fed to an absurd degree (lots of fresh/raw food which costs a lot but it's fine because Efron has a decent job now.) Efron is overall doing okay. Will probably never date anyone ever again, or even have close platonic bonds. Which is a bit sad but he is fine with it, he does not trust himself not to be manipulative for their own good. Maybe some more therapy would help him but he is the type to look down on most of the advice he is given, and he is content with his current lifestyle. Who says that he has to be normative to be fufilled?

Neil is... well he is dead. In the original escam at least he is. But now when I imagine him he is very very alive. Ironically he is a fucking school counselor now. He helps kids with planning their futures or hears out their petty drama and attempts to help sort it out. He also sometimes talks to kids who self harm, or are clearly seeking attention from.... less than ideal spaces. Sometimes it's like talking to a mirror of his younger self and that really freaks him out. He wishes he could shake these kids around and tell them that they should not be wasting their youth enabling predators or bonding with kids as equally messed up as they are over who can hurt themselves more. He is afraid he is not doing nearly enough to help them. But overall he is thriving in life. He has a boyfriend who treats him well, and that's pretty cool. He also has a full beard which is no longer patchy, and that's even cooler. He still feels depressed most days and is prone to mood swings but he is way more stable than he ever was in escam. The only part of himself he ever kills is the part that made him feel worthless.

[femmefatalevibe]

how do you decenter men & dating? do you ever feel like it's difficult to handle the social pressure to have a partner/"time is running out"?

Honestly, I think my personality has a lot to do with it. I've always been called "stubborn" since I was a young girl and have been making nearly all life decisions for myself since I was a pre-teen/teenager, so creating a meaningful life has always been my top priority. The thought of centralizing my happiness or validity in this world around a phantom man who might or might not show up, or even worse, negatively impact my life – either short-term or permanently – in some way has never made sense to me.

It also helped that dating was something I never discussed with my family as a kid, never had any parental pressure/input on whether I should or shouldn't date, and have gotten next to no questions about boys/men basically ever. Of the 2-3 times or so it has come up as an adult, I set a boundary on my private life and just remind them of the question they're asking if no one is serious enough for me to mention on my own.

With friends, I don't feel pressured to be in a relationship just because they might be or looking for a partner. If anything, I find it entertaining to chat about it when they inevitably start asking for my advice or input on a given person or situation, lol.

I perceive general societal pressure to date for commitment or idealizing a relationship with a man as a projection of other people's neediness that I don't feel the inclination to entertain. If someone enjoys companionship, great for them, but I find it quite presumptive that someone can't differentiate between their personal needs and every other woman/person in society. We're all unique. If you're secure enough in your choices, you shouldn't need to spend your free time convincing others that your way of life is superior to others who choose a different path. I feel sorry for them, honestly.

In terms of "time running out," I think being child-free takes off the burden of this race against a "biological clock." I can imagine if someone wants children, the idea of dating, relationships, marriage, and timelines is a lot more stressful. I'm glad to see that many women who are undecided about kids or are giving themselves time to pursue other goals are starting to take advantage of egg freezing services en masse and speaking about their experiences publicly. I applaud all of you for exercising your right to bodily autonomy. You're all incredible for changing the narrative and idealization of women to become mothers as young as possible.

If you mean worried about "time running out" from a purely chronological perspective, I have the opposite view. Why would I want to waste my 20s – the years of youth, energy, and self-discovery – on a man that I probably will no longer speak to in the next 6 months or 1-2 years? I would be running out of time to set my life in the ways I want if I decided to put a considerable amount of energy into finding a partner and focusing on men (or anyone else's approval past a client relationship, interpersonal boundary, or ethical principle, of course).

Hope this was useful in some way xx

[honeyjars-sims]

1.40 Work/Life Balance

Nico: Hey Chantal! Your first review is performing wonderfully! I have a feeling that bonus Ambrose promised is just around the corner.

Chantal: That’s great news! I can’t wait to start working on the next one.

Nico: Which product are you thinking of reviewing this time?

Chantal: Probably one of the face serums. Ambrose gave me a lot of product samples. I don’t think I’ll be able to review all of them, though. Hopefully that won’t be a problem.

Nico: I’m sure she doesn’t expect you to review them all. Which ones do you think you won’t be able to review?

Chantal: Well, some of them are uh, meant to be enjoyed with someone else. Like the couples’ lube set. I’m no prude, but I’m not really dating right now. I don’t want to review something I’m not actually using.

Nico: That’s fair. But why isn’t a beautiful young woman like you out on the dating scene? I would have been lucky to have classmates as stunning as you when I was in college. 

Chantal: Wow, thanks! I have been asked out quite a lot, but I don’t have time for dating right now between school and work. I don’t want a relationship to get in the way of my career goals.

Nico: That’s very admirable, Chantal. You have a great head on your shoulders. A little word of advice, though. Don’t waste your youth on the hopes of a great career. It takes most people a while to truly succeed in this field. I have coworkers who never married because they kept waiting for their big break. I’m just glad I never fell into that trap. There’s still plenty of time for me to build both a professional and personal life I’m proud of.

Chantal: I guess you’re right. I do want to find someone eventually, I’ve just always seen myself achieving my career goals early on and then focusing on the rest. People do tell me my goals are a little unrealistic, though.

Nico: Look, I’m not trying to discourage you from dreaming big. Your drive and confidence are unlike any I’ve seen from someone your age. I have no doubt you’ll be a great success. Just don’t get so hung up on a plan that you can’t adjust for a surprise here and there. 

Chantal: That’s definitely something I need to work on. I’m learning not everything can be planned for. Sometimes things happen that are beyond your control, both good and bad.

Nico: Exactly! And who knows, you might meet someone with similar goals that you can achieve together. Sometimes it’s easier to get the things you want when you collaborate.

Chantal: That’s true. Thanks for the encouragement, Nico. I’ll definitely take your thoughts into consideration.

Nico: Good. I don’t think you’ll regret it.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[araekniarchive]

aaa ok it says rqs are open so i’ll trust it

can you. this might be odd but can you do a web about california. good bad ugly weather history love sunshine winter storm fire california please

if not that’s totally cool & have a good night!!! ✨✨

The Eagles, Hotel California

Die Hard (1988) dir. John McTiernan

Mary Schmich, ‘Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young’ (also known as ‘Wear Sunscreen’) in the Chicago Tribune, June 1997

Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

Cavetown, Idea of Her

Janet Fitch, White Oleander

Rebecca Solnit

Joni Mitchell, California

Michael Connelly, The Brass Verdict

S. E. Hinton, Rumble Fish

The Neighbourhood, Sweater Weather

[tasteofdeathao3]

24/7 regressed Izzy when the crew find out, are desperate to make his job easier and are very aware that they have been 1 taking instructions from a four year old and 2 FAILING instructions from a four year old and 3 BULLYING the four year old, they don't wanna let on that they know but Izzy is somehow getting more stressed with things suddenly going right all the time

this is the funniest shit I've ever read the image of a bunch of pirates bullying a toddler is just.... my god

So yeah once it's apparent what's happening the crew is kind of itching to make things better.

Lucius, slightly terrified of Izzy stabbing him, decides to make some nice drawings for him - it works when he's younger, but the rest of the time it just makes Izzy angrier.

The majority of the crew, that actually knows what they're doing, feel not only embarrassed that they couldn't do work a literal four year old was doing (as Ed and Stede like to remind them occasionally), but also awful that all the work they weren't doing was just being done by Izzy, meaning on top of all the other work he probably shouldn't have been doing, he was managing more than twelve people's workloads all on his own.

Izzy's definitely a person who relies on their routine to stay somewhat consistent, so when he suddenly gets on deck and everyone is off doing work and not even bothering him for advice or begging him to let them off, it freaks him out a little.

It freaks him out a hell of a lot more when he goes and tries to adjust the ropes (The swede's job, who's far better at wearing rope and doing anything constructive with it) and finds them tied and knotted perfectly, or well enough that it would be an active waste of time to undo and redo them to his standards. He almost faints when he finds Lucius over the side of the ship, scraping the hull.

Even though it causes Izzy some stress, the lessening workload does him good, and the ship functions better for it, especially when he's dropped too young to be of any help. It takes a while, and a lot of coaxing from Stede, but he does eventually learn to relax in the lapses of time between his work and sleep (not really, but enough that he's not actively trying to escape the captains cabin. once Ed and Stede no longer have to barricade the door to get him to lay down, they consider it a success).

The bullying aspect.... is a little harder to work through.

Of course most people feel guilty (especially Lucius, who'd been drawing increasingly offensive drawings of Izzy and hiding them around the ship for him to find), and to combat that they decide to be extra extra nice to Izzy.

Izzy doesn't really bat an eye when Roach makes something he likes (a plain meal that he'd managed to survive on in his youth), though the second, third, and fourth time he made it, even though barely anyone really enjoyed it, he started to pick up on it.

The extra servings at meal times, the extra large helpings of dessert, the handmade dolls from Wee John and the hand made pellet drum from Frenchie and Black Pete, the new cravat, the fancy new cleaning rag for his ring, the sheen on his vest after someone had stolen it and rubbed wax and basalm into it, the jars of the cheap strawberry preserve he likes, the chickens Jim stole because they learnt he likes soft boiled eggs - it freaks him out way too much.

It all accumulates in a giant, very public, panic attack, where Izzy drops all the way down suddenly on deck under his constant fear of being buttered up for mutiny or a secret murder in the night where he's too calm and relaxed to get to Blackbeard in time, and cries and wails until Ed or Stede scoop him up and take him below deck.

I think eventually he'd get used to it, as much as he loves working himself to the bone, but the transition from being respected as an adult to being recognised as someone who, for a significant part of the time, is an toddler would take a long time for him to get used to.

I think he'd be quite upset, as someone who values respect and wants to be respected, to suddenly no longer be treated as the first mate and more like the boss' kid on bring your kid to work day, but eventually I think it would all balance out.

[butthatsanothershow]

"Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders."

-Mary Schmich in "Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young" more commonly known as "Wear Sunscreen" (words popularized by Baz Luhrmann's "Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)")

damn it's almost like these are all lies people tell themselves to justify their knee-jerk disdain for change and their weird hatred of younger people in general

[stellakapezanou]

STUDIO WEST is proud to present SUNBURN, an online group exhibition featuring a selection of exciting emerging and newly established international artists.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '99.

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it."

Baz Lurhmann, Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen), 1998

Drawing its lyrics from Chicago Tribune columnist Mary Schmich's 1997 essay 'Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young', Baz Lurhamm's hit song 'Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)' was released in 1998. Exalting the importance of wearing suncream, the song and essay from which its lyrics were drawn had the intention of passing the sage wisdom of one generation to the next, an undertaking that the author herself acknowledged as likely to fall on deaf ears, drowned out by youthful arrogance and the privilege of absent-mindedness.

While it is difficult to disagree with the importance of protecting oneself from UV rays, there is something unexpectedly precious about a sunburn. It is like a memory, an imprint of carefreeness left on the skin of one too wrapped up in joyous revelry to pay heed to the sun's ferocious rays. While lathering aftersun onto patches of raw redness in front of a hotel mirror, one seldom regrets restorative hours spent bathing in crystal clear waters or inventive afternoons building world record worthy sandcastles. On returning home, a sunburn feels sacred, an ode to time spent away that lingers even after the feeling of peacefulness fades.

STUDIO WEST is proud to present SUNBURN, an online group exhibition featuring a selection of emerging and newly established international artists: Adam de Boer, Alexander Appleby, Alexis Jang, Angelos Merges, Delia Hamer, Ellen Starr Lyon, Emeli Theander, Emma Eichorn, Evie O'Connor, Francesc Rosselló, Gabriel Sanchez, Georgia Theologou, Grace Bromley, Grace Lee, JJ Jarin, Justin Natividad, Maria Joannou, Mattia Guarnera-MacCarthy, Megan Menzies, Nina Baxter and Stella Kapezanou. Including one piece by each noteworthy talent, the exhibition seeks to incarnate the unique sensuousness of summer through paintings that transport the viewer to moments of blissful tranquillity when worries burnt away under the baking heat of holiday sun.

[a-h-87769877]

Baz Luhrmann - Everybody's Free To Wear Sunscreen

Based on the June 1st, 1997 essay, “Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young” by MARY SCHMICH

https://www.chicagotribune.com/columns/chi-schmich-sunscreen-column-column.html

Inside every adult lurks a graduation speaker dying to get out, some world-weary pundit eager to pontificate on life to young people who'd rather be Rollerblading. Most of us, alas, will never be invited to sow our words of wisdom among an audience of caps and gowns, but there's no reason we can't entertain ourselves by composing a Guide to Life for Graduates. I encourage anyone over 26 to try this and thank you for indulging my attempt. Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97: Wear sunscreen. If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now. Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine. Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday. Do one thing every day that scares you. Sing. Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours. Floss. Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself. Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how. Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements. Stretch. Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't. Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone. Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's. Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own. Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room. Read the directions, even if you don't follow them. Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly. Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future. Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young. Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel. Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders. Respect your elders. Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out. Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85. Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth. But trust me on the sunscreen.

[typewriter-worries]

Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young, Mary Schmich

[ Text ID: Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. / Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours. ]

[vuldak-juneau]

Juneau’s jaw set when he asked the question and she crossed her arms as a barrier between the two. At this point, she had seen others with magic or supernatural affiliations be more forthcoming with their truth, though seeds of distrust still existed between the refugees. The fact that he was asking, even though he probably already knew, made her wonder what underlying motive he had for stopping her to begin with. “Why would you think I wasn’t?” she asked despite having a pretty good idea of the answer. Her eyes narrowed though, trying to determine if he posed a threat in the present moment, he or his dire wolf companion. “What would you do about it, anyway?”

The young blonde had begun adjusting her pack once more, shifting it to be as comfortable as one could be carrying the remainder of their life on their back. Again, he tried to warn her, and it made her feel as if she were being talked down to like some child. It rarely mattered how careful or measured a tone was used, she tended to interpret advice as orders, and orders made her feel restless and rebellious. “I’ve traveled similar paths in worse conditions than this,” she snapped at him, and it was mostly true as far as she knew. The threats that had existed between point A and point B had been far lesser in the past though, and never half as long a distance. The folly of her own youth and the newness of her voldak form made her both overconfident and restless. 

“If I wait for sunlight, it will just be someone else trying to stop me instead of you,” Juneau pointed out, her tone impatient. She paused for a moment and took a few slower, meandering steps toward him. “But they might know less than you do about what horrors you’re so convinced await me.” She peered at the edge of the wasted woods some yards ahead of them. “How do you know so much about what’s out there? Friends in these woods?” She raised a brow, both sarcasm and suspicion at play behind her eyes. 

Her juvenile nature gave itself away as she let out a dramatic huff of air and rolled her eyes theatrically when he asked about her fear or lack of fear. She let silent, dead air hang between them for a moment rather than answering immediately. “Apologies, it took me a moment to be sure you were done speaking in riddles,” she started her disillusionment with the entire situation on full display. “Whether I overestimate my abilities or not, no. It isn’t fear–or lack of fear that moves me.” She wiggled her fingers dramatically as she said the word moves. “It’s a lack of attachments here. So, when you all find my frozen corpse a few nights from tonight, I’m sure you’ll be happy enough to join the others in raucous applause.”

At first, Alder was surprised, he thought he'd been hiding and sneaking out pretty decently, but now that he thought of it he'd been sloppy for the most part - a consequence of the urges of his condition. Then, the way she spoke about everyone else inside the keep, particularly the manner of phrasing it as if she was superior to humans, made him believe she was more than what she seemed, which could be a dangerous way of outing oneself as she wouldn't have known he himself was more than just a man who managed to connect to a wolf. "And are you not one of those humans yourself?" He didn't move to stop her pathing, it was more of a warning than anything, as the walls had ears everywhere in Iskaldrik and these ears had mouths to spread rumors, even though he wasn't one of those ears.

Alder would have kept his mouth shut now and would have allowed her to go, but from the little he could see of her from an older person's point of view he saw someone who needed his help, maybe someone who now had no one, just like him, it was all his intuition, but he was too stubborn to consider himself to be wrong. "You will not last if you go out now. It's hard to travel during the night, you'll get lost and either starve or freeze to death. Neither are good ways to go..." Those weren't assumptions, those were the faiths of all the others who overestimated their own odds or underestimated everything else. She might be one of the lucky ones, but one would never know. "If you wait for sunlight, it will be warmer and you'll have a better chance."

His gaze shifted from her to Lor's, noticing the movement and the direwolf stopped, they were not in a place to force the girl to comply, she knew about his late night affairs and left him be, so he would give her a chance to do as she pleases, but he wouldn't let her go without reasoning. "Before doing anything that you might regret, please, ask yourself... Is it fear that moves you? Or is it the lack of it? Both are foolish reasons, but fear still means you've considered yourself."

[night--hag]

For any young people missing out on their senior rites: Put on your finery, drink too much of the cheapest vodka you can get your little mitts on. Wake up the next day 3 hours earlier than what would be considered reasonable. Put on your cap and gown, gather your family and play "Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)" by Baz Luhrmann through your speakers.

[sunkisseddaffodils]

can i request a jealous sherlock x reader (they are already dating) and someone won’t leave reader alone and he gets protective of her <3

Pairing: Sherlock x female reader

Warnings: smoking

Song to listen to: jealous by neyo

Note: requests are open for sherlock and doctor who fics

-

Sherlock’s day was just like any other until the arrival of an old friend of his girlfriend, Y/N. It had just turned 11 o’clock when there was a knock on the door at 221b. The consulting detective opened the door to see a tall, slim and relatively attractive man who was probably in his mid-20s. He presumed he was a client until he uttered the words:

‘Does Y/N L/N live here? Have I got the right address?’

Sherlock clenched his jaw, instantly concerned about what this man wanted:

‘Depends on what you want’

Before, he could answer, his girlfriend, Y/N, called down the stairs excitedly:

‘Oh my god, is that Noah? Sherlock, let him in’

Reluctantly, he allowed her old friend in and he jogged up the stairs. When Sherlock joined the two upstairs, they were getting reacquainted, sitting on the couch way too close for his liking:

‘Sorry for popping by without notice. I’m in London for work and I saw on Facebook that you had moved here recently’, Noah said apologetically.

Y/N smiled softly.

‘No worries. It’s great to see a familiar face. I haven’t seen my friends from home for ages!’

Sherlock couldn’t help but feel left out and interrupted their conversation, offering a handshake to Noah.

‘I’m Sherlock, Y/N’s partner’

Noah shook his hand, exclaiming:

‘Oh my god, yeah! You must be the great consulting detective. Any interesting cases on?’

Sherlock grinned through his teeth.

‘Yes, of course. Sorry if you don’t mind, we’re very busy.’

Y/N turned to Sherlock in confusion, giving him a questioning look.

Noah responded, ignoring the hint and nudged Y/N playfully:

‘Oh my god, I might actually have a case for you!’

He carried on enthusiastically:

‘Remember that new kid from our school in Year 9? He just disappeared one day without explanation’

Sherlock snarkily replied:

‘As much as I would love to waste my time looking for a kid who simply moved town. We really do have more pressing mysteries to solve’

Noah finally got the hint:

‘Again, I’m sorry for the short notice. Maybe we can go out for a drink sometime to have a proper catch up?’

They hugged goodbye and Y/N showed him out. Sherlock was working on his laptop at the kitchen table when he felt Y/N wrap her arms gently around his waist from behind, hugging him. She whispered softly:

‘You’re jealous’

Sherlock continued typing away immediately denying the fact:

‘That’s absurd’

Y/N told Sherlock:

‘Well, I’m gonna tell you this, anyway. Yes, back in the day I fancied him but he outright rejected me so I really doubt he’s suddenly interested in me now’

Sherlock swivelled around, pulling her onto her his lap and whispered into her ear:

‘Well, I’m glad he did because now I have you’

Y/N chuckled and then gave him a peck on the lips before getting up and going to have a shower. That evening , Sherlock was still at the kitchen table working away when Y/N walked past him to get a drink out of the fridge. He noticed she was dressed in a black, bodycon dress and her hair was straightened. She never straightened her hair unless it was a special occasion.

‘Are you going somewhere?’

She skipped over to him, hyper.

‘Noah said he was going out clubbing with his work friends and asked if I wanted to join’

Sherlock accidentally let slip an annoyed remark.

‘He only just saw you this morning!’

Y/N sat on the stool next to Sherlock, resting her head on his shoulders, confessing:

‘I know it’ stupid, but I’m excited to go out because it’s been such a long time since I’ve had a fun time out. It’ll make me feel young again’

Sherlock couldn’t resist her puppy eyes.

‘You should definitely go then if it’s important to you’

Suddenly, there was a spark in her eyes, and she grinned widely. Sherlock knew that look. She just had a great idea.

‘I know you don’t enjoy clubbing but you should totally come with’

Sherlock’s face had already answered her question:

‘Maybe another time, Y/N’

Y/N stood up and pleaded one more time:

‘Oh come on! It’ll be so much more fun with you there’

Sherlock expectedly denied the offer again. Y/N pouted but accepted his answer.

‘Okay fine! But next time you’re definitely coming’.

It had been a few hours since Y/N had left when John came round to the flat. He knocked but there was no answer so he used his spare key. The flat was in complete darkness and he called out:

‘Sherlock? Y/N? You guys here?’

A raspy voice suddenly responded from the darkness.

‘Go away’

John switched on the light to see Sherlock huddled on the sofa under a blanket.

‘Why are you sulking in the dark?’

Sherlock sat up, whining to John.

‘Y/N’s gone out, ’

John sat in his old chair, trying to comfort his former flatmate.

‘And? What’s the big deal?’

Sherlock strolled over to the fireplace, getting a cigarette and lighter from his secret hiding place.

‘She’s gone out with an old school friend. An old school friend that definitely has a romantic interest in her.’

‘Why didn’t you go out with her then?

Sherlock was getting sick of his questions.

‘Why are you even here?’

John sighed.

‘I’m sorry for checking up on you. I won’t bother next time.’

Sherlock slumped back in his chair, puffing every so often on his cigarette. John decided to give him some advice even if it was unwanted. 

‘Sherlock, you know Y/N would never do anything to hurt you. I’m guessing she just wants to relive her youth with some old friends. That’s all.’

Sherlock put out his cigarette, telling John:

‘Of course, I’m not worried about her. It’s him I worried about.’

Over the next few weeks, Y/N seemed to keep bumping into Noah and he regularly asked her to lunch and for drinks. Sherlock was beginning to get suspicious and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw him standing outside the flat waiting for her to get back home. He jogged downstairs, invited him in and made him sit in the chair where clients sat. He interrogated him:

‘Care to explain why you have seen my girlfriend over 15 times in the last 3 weeks?’

Noah was shocked and started fiddling with his sleeves. He didn’t know what to say at all. Sherlock still carried on.

‘That amount of times is not normal for a casual friendship.’

Noah tried to speak, but Sherlock was still talking.

‘What are your intentions with my girlfriend?’

Noah was sweating nervously.

‘Intentions? What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying you have a romantic interest in Y/N’

Noah tried to deny this but it was no use.

‘I think I’ll downgrade you to an acquaintance, no more than 3 planned encounters a year and always in my presence.’

‘You’re a psychopath!’

‘I’m a sociopath, actually’, he said, grinning scarily. 

Noah left the flat in utter astonishment . A week later, Y/N noted to Sherlock that he hadn’t heard from Noah in a bit. All Sherlock said ‘Oh, really? I wonder why’.

[justa-mysticmess]

mc’s attempted forced engagement

submitted by @manacharlotte​

hello!! thank you for your lovely request, and sincere apologies it took so long for it to be posted :) i think i might be getting back into the swing of things now though ^^;;

sorry it’s so long btw! some of it also became repetitive but, i did my best ^^;;  hope you like it!! enjoy! xoxo

.

jaehee

it had been easy for mc to open up to jaehee, likely because their relationship had been based off of strong friendship and respect

also because jaehee was such a quiet person and a great listener

in fact, mc felt they had opened up to the other too soon

however, when they were kidnapped by one of their father’s loyal and unfortunately talented henchmen, jaehee was glad that mc had confided in her about their forced engagement beforehand because otherwise, jaehee wouldn’t have a clue as to where to start looking for mc

she wasn’t surprised that she didn’t even need to convince the other members of the rfa, but what did surprise her was jumin’s investment in finding mc

it made her feel warm that her ex-boss cared about her and her s/o this much despite them having rejected his offers to work for him

with jumin joinining in the search for mc and his many resources which he wasn’t shy to use, they were able to not only track mc’s whereabouts (they were kept locked up in their father’s mansion in a rural setting), but due to 707′s unparalleled research and hacking abilities, they were able to get a lot of info on mc’s father, his business dealings, and family background

707 also went so far as to research all about mc’s fiance and any flaws or shady areas in his family business or background

they all showed up to mc’s father’s mansion, and jumin ensured they did so in style

jaehee was surprised that even v took time out of his busy schedule to join them, and both him and jumin posed as her guardians of sort

with an impressive entourage that included a rising idol, a modern-day prince, a celebrated photographer, and well settled youths, jaehee knew they made heads turn, and she knew she was the envy and desire of many a high-society people

that wasn’t what she was interested in, and she knew neither was mc. however, to sway mc’s father, this was all very important

they were received well enough- rich people had traditions and protocols to stick to after all, if for nothing else then for appearance sake

they weren’t allowed to see mc, and jaehee was seething on the inside, but she kept a calm and professional facade

they were invited to have traditional style tea with mc’s parents, and jumin smartly led the conversation towards business

jaehee, having had more than sufficient experience working with jumin, and then running her own cafe with mc, easily joined the conversation and she could tell how impressed the old man was, although he didn’t outright say anything

mc’s mother on the other hand, looked fondly at jaehee and commented about how smart and experienced jaehee is especially for being so knowledgably at such a young age. jaehee tried not to let it get to her head, but she knew her face was warm

they stayed a week, only seeing mc at dinner time where everyone was to come dressed formally, and mc took every chance to sit next to jaehee and talk to their friends. it warmed jaehee’s heart and also pulled at her heart strings to see that mc had become so lonely in the few days apart that they tried to drag out dinner as much as they could, because as soon as their plate was empty, they were chaperoned back to their room. like a prisoner

it was v and 707 who revealed not only the failing business of mc’s fiance’s family business, but also their overall bad decisions which had led their company to be in debt now. money was the only reason they wanted their son to marry mc

mc’s father was horrified and at first blamed them for trying to ruin his business deal, but v calmly reiterated that even if the wedding happened, only the fiance’s family would benefit from their business and would soon run mc’s father’s business into the ground too

it was 707 who decided to open up about his research into the family business and told mc’s father that his business was struggling too and he needed to be careful with his deals

the engagement was broken off that very day by mc’s father, and they were allowed to at least roam the mansion freely, however, the job wasn’t done

they still ad to convince mc’s father to accept jaehee’s proposal, which they had yet to put forth. mc’s mother overheard some part of their discussion, and she was down for it. she told them a weakness even jumin hadn’t considered yet

just remind him his business, family, and mc would be looked down upon and questions would be raised about the sudden end of the engagement. and remind him that to show their was no weakness on his part, mc needs ot be married off or at least engaged again as soon as possible, she had told them with a knowing smile

they were grateful for the advice and knew what to do after!

touching all his pressure points at the next dinner, where he looked haggard already about the sudden end of a deal which would have sunk his business, jumin put forth jaehee as a candidate for mc to be engaged to

they were expecting for it to take at least a couple days for him to give them a response, so everybody was pleasantly surprised when mc’s father agreed to the proposal by the end of dinner!

jumin

the moment he returned to the penthouse and the staff were in a disarray, his first thought was that elizabeth 3rd had escaped again

he did feel frantic, but not so much as he once would have, assured that his cat wouldn’t have gone too far or for too long

but the moment the butler informed him that mc had left to go get some groceries hours ago and never returned, he heard sirens go off in his hed

he first called 707 to start immediately tracking mc, and secondly called v

he was secure enough in their relationship that he knew what happened to v and rika wasn’t what was happening to him and mc, but he needed his friend’s support

someone had taken mc, and he would find them and make the fools suffer by throwing them in jail

707 had mc’s location within an hour, and the three left immediately

only once on the way did jumin remember to inform jaehee and put her in charge till he returned, feeling some pity for the poor woman because she would be worried too despite being too professional to say anything outright

they tracked mc to a warehouse on their father’s land where mc was being held hostage, according to 707′s deductions probably because they attempted escape again

saying that jumin was livid at the information was an understatement

jumin didn’t waste time in having the warehouse surrounded by his security team and within half an hour, mc’s father came with a team of his own

seeing who it was, mc’s father’s temper immediately calmed down and he became almost jovial with jumin, who remained icy because of the man’s treatment of mc

it was v who turned on his charm, and handled the situation so it wouldn’t get worse

mc’s father invited them for tea to his favourite teahouse, and jumin joined very reluctantly, only after leaving 707 at the warehouse to ensure mc was safe and wel-looked after till he could come back

once at their destination, jumin wasted no time in getting to the point

“break off mc’s engagement with whomever you’ve arranged it. mc and i want to get married, and i want it possible without any... inconveniences,” he said it with a straight face and a controlled tone, trying very hard not to erupt at mc’s father. after all, he would be his father-in-law one day, and mc probably wouldn’t appreciate him disrespecting their father

v just calmly handled the situation as mc’s father spluttered at the sudden declaration and demand

they didn’t have to worry, though- it was clear that out of any bachelor’s mc’s father had been interested in, jumin was on a whole different level and class

jumin, v, and 707 went back home a couple days later, and they took a newly engagement-free mc with them, soon to be engaged to jumin in an extravagant celebration 

saeran

it almost doesn’t come as a surprise when mc vanishes on him- after all, how can good things last for him?

however, he’s been working on getting better, thanks to mc, 707, and even rfa, although he still holds an uncalled for grudge against them

fighting the internal negative-talk playing in his head, saeran immediately contacts 707 about the situation and his suspicion that mc might be in danger, right before putting his own hacking skills to use

it’s just something to fall back on at this point and comforts him to know that saeyoung will be looking out for mc too in case his own emotions get the better of him

he finds the general area mc is being held in, but  leaves 707 to hack mc’s exact location in favor of hacking their mobile and calling them

their phone has been altered and cut off to prevent calls, but saeran is grateful that the idiots left the device with mc so he is still able to hack past those blockers

707 drives them in one of his racecars, going for speed and stealth, while saeran continues to track the signals and try to call mc

mc’s voice on the other end is a bit confused, and also very hoarse. they must have been crying or screaming

he quickly asks mc if they’re okay and who the hell dared to kidnap them.

mc speaks in a hushed tone but he can hear the relief and excitement in their voice as they tell him that in was their father’s men who kidnapped them in order to force them into an arranged marriage

mc also tells him that the place is well guarded from the outside but that they are locked away alone in some sort of dark room as punishment for breaking off the engagement and not agreeing to marry

saeran’s heart breaks but more than that he is pissed. he wants to make mc’s father and fiance’s family suffer, but mc quickly tells him to not hurt their family or parents

“just get me out and away from here... i never want to come back here but i don’t want anyone harmed either”

it makes him smile to hear that mc didn’t even think twice about asking him to come pick them up from wherever they were, saeyoung seems to have heard it and also looks proud

“don’t worry mc! we’ll get you outta there in no time! you just stay put and ready!, he calls out in a loud and carefree tone, but saeran can see the tightness around his eyes from here. good, he thinks. saeyoung is also angry on behalf of mc

they reach just as the sun sets but wait till midnight, when the guards change shifts all over, to break mc out

having been given the exact of the change, and the general locations of guard placement, and the general layout of their family vacation home (because that is where mc figured out they were being held when saeran told them the general area of their location), both brothers break mc out within 15 minutes, and they are on their way out and away before someone even figures out mc is missing

out of a sudden bout of boldness and a mix of adrenaline, saeran proposes to mc on the drive back tot he city in their get-away car, and mc blushes and splutters and agrees even as saeyoung throws his head back and cackles, proud that his twin finally made this decision

saeyoung/707

it honestly took saeyoung a lot later to even notice mc was missing

it wasn’t that he didn’t pay attention to mc or didn’t care, but mc also generally kept to themselves, especially while he was busy doing his regular work

when he finally got done with his work for the day, the first thing saeyoung noticed was the absolute silence

he checked his texts and saw the last thing mc had texted him was a cat video from last night

saeyoung decided to call mc and see where they were at and if they want to have a midnight snack for dinner

when the call wouldn’t connect, he immediately knew something was wrong and started hacking into their device in order to reach out and track, but before that remembered to shoot off a text in the rfa group chat to see if mc was hanging out with one of the members

when the call connected, he was already anxious because tracking the device showed mc was far away at this point

mc’s voice was hesitant and confused on the other end, but saeyoung still sighed in relief because he knew they were unharmed so far

what he wasn’t prepared for was the knowledge that it was mc’s own family’s bodyguards who had tracked and kidnapped them in order to take mc back and continue on with their forced engagement

hearing this, he froze up for a moment- on the one hand, he couldn’t give mc much and if they were married off to this rich fiance, mc would have an easy life and be taken care of

on the other hand, he knew he loved and cherished mc and fully understood that mc loved him back

before he could think about what to do in this situation- to be selfish or ensure mc’s future, mc’s voice broke him out of his stupor: “saeyoung, come get me right away. i can’t do this... especially now that i’ve found you”

they didn’t sound defeated or frightened, instead, he was proud and happy to hear the note of determination in mc’s voice

thanks to mc’s words, his choice was already made for him

he took v to mc’s family home the veyr next day, both of them arriving in style- v having pulled all the stops for the first time to impress someone with his appearance and wealth

it warmed saeyoung’s heart to know that v did it for him!

with an impressive and reliable person like v posing as his guardian, and saeyoung managing to charm mc’s parents thoroughly with his humor, wit, and success at a young age, it was relatively easier than they’d expected to sway mc’s parents and get their blessing for saeyoung to marry mc 

v/jihyun 

the whole fiasco with rika and her past role in v’s life meant that mc found an opening to tell v early on in their relationship about the forced engagement they had run away from

v had been nothing but understanding and supportive, even reassuring mc that if it came down to it, or even if mc just wanted to speak to their family, he would arrange it for them and accompany them

mc was thankful for the gesture but hadn’t wanted to reach out to their family yet, still feeling betrayed by their parents for trying to push them into that relationship

so, he immediately noticed when mc went missing, especially because they had a habit of updating him about their whereabouts when mc and v were  away from each other

immediately employed 707′s help to contact mc as their mobile was being blocked

v, jumin, and 707 were already on the way to where the tracker was showing mc’s current location when 707 managed to connect the call to mc

despite being worried sick, v talked to mc calmly and ensured they were unharmed and in good health 

asked mc if they could stall their parents and the engagement till v got there before mc could tell him what had happened

could feel mc’s instant relief that he understood their position and was on his way to them

when they reached mc’s family manison, they were given vip treatment because of jumin’s status, v’s fame, and seven’s apparent wealth

still, they weren’t able to see mc’s parents till dinner that night, but v did not waste any time

despite mc not being allowed to join them all for dinner, which v assumed was as punishment for running away and not agreeing to the arrangement, v managed to remain civil and pitch his proposal

he straight up confessed to being mc’s lover and wanting to get their parents blessings for marrying mc

their parents were a bit surprised, but didn’t hesitate for long to agree

the four of them left mc’s family mansion a week later, along with the rest of the rfa members, after having just celebrated v’s and mc’s engagement

yoosung

yoosung returned home late, as usual, since he had internship at jumin’s office right after classes

mc was a busy person too but they would always be home when yoosung returned from his internship

he immediately felt something was wrong when he saw all the lights were out and everything seemed untouched

becausse even if mc went out, they would come home from work in order to freshen up before leaving with friends or going out on their own

but there was no sign of them having returned at all

not wanting to panic for no reason, yoosung checked his messages to first see if mc had sent any text telling him they would be coming home late or something

sure enough, there were no texts 

BUT there had been a miscall around 3 hours ago!

now a bit worried, yoosung immediately tried calling them back but the call would’t connect

finally panicking, he did thoughtlessly called his boss in a frantic worry

jumin was less than impressed at having been called at this time of night but he understood yoosung’s situation somewhat. he calmly told yoosung to ask seven to track mc’s phone- if the device was with them, it could still be traced even if it was shut off

yoosung thanked him before calling seven

seven had mc’s location under 10 minutes, but when he told yoosung of the area, he felt a bit shocked and scared

he remembered that was mc’s hometown! if mc was there, then something horrible must have happened to theri family, or there must have been some other emergency!

jumin reluctantly allowed yoosung to take jaehee, because he understood this was a delicate situation and did care for mc as a member of the rfa and a friend. hearing of the situation, zen came along for protection and offering any help

when they reached the location, thanks to seven guiding them through call, they were shocked to see that mc came from considerable wealth

they were allowed inside after they introduced themselves as mc’s friends and they were invited into a fancy sitting area and served tea

jaehee commented that the house seemed pretty tranquil so it probably wasn’t an emergency reason that mc had come here, but that it was odd that they hadn’t come to see them yet

almost as if on cue, mc rushed in just then, breathless and looking a bit wild

yoosung froze up seeing them in such a state, but zen was on his feet immediately and steadied mc

upon seeing the three of them, mc calmed down a bit and took a moment to collect themself

it was jaehee who took mc’s hands and held them between hers till mc stopped shaking

“i thought i’d never see you guys again”

it broke yoosung’s heart to hear mc say that, their voice hoarse as if they’d been screaming or crying

then it hit him. “you mean you didn’t come here on your own mc?!”

mc flinched and jaehee told him to lower his volume just as zen grabbed his shoulder in support and warning

mc composed themself and shook their head. after looking about to make sure nobody else was there, they leaned forward and whispered that their family had basically kidnapped them to continue the engagement they had run away from

zen offered to break them out of there, but yoosung was looking livid

before mc could reply, yoosung spoke up instead, “hey, zen? hold that offer”

he got up and headed for the sitting room’s entrance, when jaehee asked him where he was going

“to talk to mc’s parents. if they reject my proposal, we’ll break mc out”

zen laughed, feeling immense pride at yoosung taking such a stance, and jaehee was pleasantly surprised

mc watched yoosung walk out, feeling proud and a bit bad because they knew that the four of them would have to make a run for it after all. but it warmed their heart to see yoosung ready to confront their parents for mc’s sake

zen/hyun

zen and mc had taken the rare opportunity for privacy to spend time together

they went out for a pleasant stroll on a pleasantly chilly evening 

they’d actually been about to go home after a lovely night out and were nearing zen’s bike when it happened

they were surrounded and mc dragged away from him

despite being outnumbered, zen got a few hits in, and received the end of a punch, but that didn’t stop him

he was on his bike and chased them to the outskirts of the city, but hsi bike soon ran out of gas and the van drove off with mc trapped inside

he felt frustrated and heartbroken wanted to scream as he picked up mc’s cracked cell phone from the ground

but before anything, he called seven

he couldn’t get used to technology easily and so he normally didn’t like it too much, but he was grateful for seven being on their team especially now

since zen was used to memorizing lines for his roles, he had actually managed to memorize the number plate of the car even in the relative darkness

he gave all that information, trusting that seven would find them, and moved the the side of the road in hopes of an empty taxi

seven told him it was bets to come back, regroup and then leave, but zen wasn’t having it

so, he was pleasantly surprised when seven drove up to him in less than half an hour, with yoosung in tow

“you’re so troublesome you know that?” he said, but zen could tell he didn’t mean it

yoosing was just frantic for mc’s safety and informed zen than jumin was sending a security team to go with them

ever since mc had come into his life, zen had managed to mostly smooth things out with jumin, because mc was also friends with jumin. although he sometimes still thought the man was a jerk.

it wasnice to know that he cared for mc too and sent security

seven moved to the backseat of his car and told zen that he would drive, “since i’ll be tracking those kidnapper’s van” he explained

sure enough, the promised security guards arrived in a black minivan just as zen got into the driver’s seat

they reached the mansion mc was being held hostage at just as the sun started to rise. it was massive, but zen was occupied with thoughts of how he’d mess up the face of whoever plotted this right after he had mc safe and sound with him

seven let out a low whistle before dropping another bomb on them- “this is actually the place mc grew up in!”

zen blanched just as yoonsung exclaimed “but what kind of kidnappers bring you to your house?!”

knowing mc wasn’t really on good terms with their family for some time, zen didn’t feel completely relaxed yet, “let’s find out”

the three of them emerged, immediately flanked by jumin’s security team

they were immediately approached by a stern looking man dressed in a black suit, asking who they were and what was their business there

seven reacted with his usual lack of tact (which surprisingly always worked) and claimed that they should be ecstatic that a famous star was visiting them

although zen appreciated what seven was doing, he didn’t have patience right now. he needed to make sure mc was alright. but before he could demand anything, he felt a sharp pain in his leg and looked down to see yoosung pinching his thigh without even looking at him

by then, the man looked the three of them up and down, his gaze lingering on zen, before taking in the security detail

he let them through, noticing that they were probably important people, and a butler opened the mansion doors before they could even knock, welcoming them inside

they were given vip treatment, and allowed to keep a guard each with them

they were allowed to freshen up before being taken to meet the head of the household, who they knew now would be mc’s father

the man immediately recognized zen, and was further impressed by their obvious wealth and status considering the cars they had arrived in and the security they had brought with them 

after chatting with them for a bit, during which zen barely held himself back from demanding mc’s whereabouts, the father asked them, “i am confused as to what business fine, accomplished young men like you came here for” 

not being able to wait any longer, zen spoke before seven or yoosung could, “we’re here to get mc”. when mc’s father simply raised a brow, zen continued, “i’m going to marry mc. and i was quite upset when they were kidnapped on our date”

“hm? i did hear the man with mc put up quite a fight”

zen could feel poor yoosung sweating bullets by the now since the turn of the conversation, but he could also feel seven’s resolve from next to him.

“where are you holding mc? they better be unharmed.”

the man scoffed, “i would never harm my child. or let them harm themself,” he added with a look aimed at zen

instead of responding to the jab, zen grit his teeth “i will never let you take away mc’s choice. i won’t let you do this to them”

if the words had any effect on the man, they couldn’t tell, 

but the moment he was about to press a button, seven caught him. “if you do that, i will leak all your business weaknesses to your rivals,” he said brightly

zen almost laughed at the man’s face changing colours

before the situation could escalate further, he decided to take a slightly different route- after all, he wanted to be a partner mc could be proud of and make sure he didn’t burn any bridges with mc’s family

“listen. you’re mc’s father. i don’t want to cause you any harm. and if your information gets leaked, it will be hell for you. i actually want to do this peacefully. when mc was first taken, i feared the worst! i was ready to do anything. that still hasn’t changed. i’m not leaving without seeing mc. and if they want to go home with me, i’ll do everything to make that happen”

in the end, zen didn’t know if it was because he was impressed by zen’s earnestness and devotion to mc, or because he believed mc would listen to him, but mc’s father did allow the three of them to meet them

mc hugged him so fiercely that for a moment he forgot everything else. but then he was reminded that mc had missed him and longed for him just as much as he had missed them

after checking for their physical wellness and making sure they hadn’t been crying too much, he asked mc if they wanted to go home

he honestly thought mc’s father would throw a fit or start some drama, but the man actually allowed them to go, even if he looked reluctant

it was a week later, when zen and mc were curled up on their couch back at home, that mc got a text from their father saying that he would like to take care of the expenses for their engagement and that he hoped they had better times ahead

[fascination-street-writing]

Once You Loved Her - Now You’ve Lost Her | Yan!Pannacotta Fugo x F!Reader

Pangs of familiarity fill Fugo’s heart, in the way that Mista looks at you, because it is how you used to gawk at the strawberry blonde man himself, when you were both still young. As if he were a spring and you a parched disciple.

For skully-greg: Who suggested an angsty piece featuring Pannacotta Fugo

Content Warnings: Not S/F/W Content, Yandere Behaviors, Implied Child Abuse, Implied Non-Con, Past Underage Relationship, & Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics

It is raining again.

Pannacotta Fugo sighs, releasing the breath that he has held in for far too long. He does not bother to avoid the puddles on the sidewalk. The soles of his shoes are already ruined. In the distance, the clock tower chimes as morning turns to noon. Church bells ring – the sounding of a wedding, no doubt. Though, it is a particularly dreary day for one.

He can see it all. An ivory lace gown and a black silk tuxedo. Baby’s-breath and roses. Candles on the altars. Matrimony – everything he might have had if life was more forgiving. Alas, his stomach curls at the thought, and so he forces his mind elsewhere. First, to the file tucked beneath his arm, which he must deliver to Don Giovanna before the day ends. Then, to the faint rumbling in his belly that reminds him of his promise to get tea with Sheila; never mind the matter wherein there is another woman whom he would much rather divulge in menial conversations with, over two saucers of earl grey.

It is you he has lost.

He passes the boutiques that you had so many times begged him to accompany you to. He never said yes, because he always felt that there were far more important things to do than to waste money on clothing (it simply reminds him too much of his parents, always so preoccupied with appearances) – and so you went alone. A street vendor selling elaborate bouquets hoists a tarp over his stall to protect his wares from the unrelenting storm. Fugo had once thought to buy you flowers – he refrained, as he knew they would die within the week.

A head of hair the color of yours catches his attention. He stops.

Through the display window of L’Abito di Fiori, he watches, helpless, as you lift a dress shirt made of pressed cotton to the torso of Guido Mista. The hanger dangles from your grasp as you gauge the shirt’s sizing to his body – and his eyes fall to your face, taking in the expression of determination that sweeps your brow. Pangs of familiarity fill Fugo’s heart, in the way that Mista looks at you, because it is how you used to gawk at the strawberry blonde man himself, when you were both still young.

As if he were a spring and you a parched disciple.

You bat away the dress shirt and offer Mista another; one that is slimmer and formfitting. Fugo has almost forgotten the occasion. It is an occasion indeed, as in no other circumstance might Mista give quite so much care about his uniform: Don Giovanna’s compleanno gala is nearly upon you all.

You say something to Mista that is unintelligible to Fugo, though by the way the chocolate-brown eyed man smiles, he knows it is nothing good. The long-forgotten, youthful rage within him has become an acquaintance as of late – a rekindling of something that ought to have gone away. The file snaps in his grasp. Pages upon pages of the report that took him a month to compose and organize scatter amongst the puddles.

Fugo stares at the ruin and sighs. Fishing his cellphone out from his pocket, he dials Don Giovanna’s number. Tea with Sheila will have to wait - not that he minds.

“Buon pomeriggio, Fugo,” the young Don speaks. Years of strain weigh heavily on his tone. “I was just about to call you – Monsieur Polnareff is getting impatient waiting for your report. How soon can you be here?”

“Ah, about that, Giorno. Mie scuse, but there’s been an incident . . .”

Il Libeccio is quiet, though perhaps since it is far too early in the day to be patronized. You and Fugo peer over the menu, as if something new might strike your fancy. In all honesty, you have committed it to memory; still, it makes for a good way to pass the time. Unreciprocated teasing glances are thrown his way. Unreciprocated, that is, until he grins only slightly – enough to be noticed by you before the corners of his lips fall.

You are glad that none of the others are here yet. Your moments with Fugo have always been cut far too short. First as children, when he would be ushered off to his studies and you to assist your mother in her duties around his parents’ estate. Now as two teenagers pulled apart by tasks assigned from Bucciarati.

If not for Fugo, you never would have joined Passione. Though from opposite ends of the social hierarchy, it was you who kept him grounded amidst the berating and the abuse – and the same can be said of him regarding you. Trauma is indiscriminatory, and it has an interesting way of bringing two thwarted souls together. Even after everything he had endured, his thoughts were of you. Following his expulsion from the university, he came back for you. With nothing to lose, and an optimistic inkling of something to gain, you joined him.

He took you from one life and gave you another. And for that, you will always be indebted to him.

“Have you two decided?” the waitress asks. “Or perhaps a bit longer?”

She clicks the pen in her hand. Fugo does not recognize her, and he realizes she must be new. Otherwise, she would know better than to inquire before the others have even arrived. “A few more minutes, please,” he says. “Grazie."

She obliges and leaves. You place a hand over your stomach, contemplating your options. “Fugo?” He raises an eyebrow and glances in your direction. “Will you share some cake with me?”

“Maybe. What flavor?”

He is not one to spoil his appetite with sweets; however, he might indulge for you. In truth, there is not much would not do at your behest; even as a boy, he has always loved you. You hum to yourself, dragging your finger down the dessert menu. He swallows the lump in his throat. A knowing smirk graces your face as you give him your answer.

“Strawberry.”

The banquet hall has been done up rather nicely. Round tables draped with white-satin tablecloths dot the perimeter of the room, each set with six chairs and a bouquet of lilies. The hired musicians – comprised of the most desirable instrumentalists in Napoli – play a lively little jazz tune. The caterer bores over the display of desserts, ensuring that not a single plate has been moved out of line.

Seated together, Mista lifts a forkful of strawberry dolce to your mouth. It hits your tongue and melts like sugar. Don Giovanna has spared no expense in preparing his gala, and the cake is no exception. You look far too elegant, wearing that beaded sheath dress while clasping a champagne flute betwixt manicured fingers. Your mulberry lipstick stains the rim like a kiss. Without a doubt, you are the most beautiful woman in the room tonight. Mista knows this, as do the men who pass you by and let their gazes’ wander.

And so does Fugo.

“If you squeeze your glass any tighter, it’ll snap in half. God forbid you’ll hurt yourself. I’d rather not end my night with taking you to the hospital.”

He eases the grip on his goblet. The color rushes back to his knuckles. Trish sips her champagne beside him, oblivious to the fury boiling within him, but not his envy. “You can be bitter every other night of the year. Don’t be tonight. It’s Giorno’s birthday, and we spent too much money on this damned party. Please, don’t cause a scene or do anything stupid. I’m begging you, Fugo.”

He bites back a scoff, never taking his eyes off you. “I’m not ‘causing a scene,’” he insists.

Trish frowns. “No, but you’re about to. Judging by the way you were practically strangling that poor cup, I know you’re only seconds away from throttling Mista.”

“I have every right to be upset,” Fugo tells the pink-haired woman.

“No, you really don’t,” she retorts. “You should be glad she moved on. Be happy that she’s happy.”

A bit of icing sticks to your lip. Mista swipes it away with his thumb before pressing his mouth to yours for a quick kiss. To Fugo, it is a nauseating sight. “You don’t think I haven’t tried?” he demands. “It’s been absolute agony this entire time. I still love her – so much that I hate her. She’s a reminder of everything I’ve done wrong.”

“You need try harder. It’s been four years. You’re going to ruin yourself at this point.” As if he has not already. “Listen, Fugo. I probably shouldn’t tell you this. Mista’s planning on proposing to her soon. He already bought a ring. You should make things right between you and [Y/N]; don’t spend the rest of your life resenting your best friend for marrying your ex. After all, maybe this can be an incentive to get over yourself and grow up.”

With that, Trish collects her belongings and departs, leaving an emptied champagne flute as a marker of where she once sat. He hardly notices her absense; he has grown numb. Marriage. An ivory gown for you and a silk tuxedo for Mista. Baby’s breath in a bouquet and a single rose in a boutonniere for Mista. Candles on the altars lit for Mista.

Fugo recoils. The thought of you marrying anyone other than himself is a death sentence. Mista stands, having been beckoned by Don Giovanna, depriving you of a companion. There is stock in Trish’s advice – but it takes courage to follow through.

You practically ignore him when he claims Mista’s vacated seat. You refuse to meet his violet stare; the band is far more interesting, anyways. Softly, he speaks your name. “How are you?” he asks.

“Good,” you answer, short. “Perfect.”

He awaits the refrain, yet you utter nothing else. And so, he tries again. “It doesn’t seem like you’re having much fun.”

“I was, before you sat down.”

Your words sting, as if you have pierced him through the heart with a wicked blade.

“You look beautiful.” You roll your brilliant eyes. If not for Don Giovanna’s sake, you might have thrown the remainder of your drink in Fugo’s handsome face. You will settle for audaciousness instead. That is, until his fingers coil around your wrist so tight the bones may snap. He hoists you from the chair, and with little regard to your protesting – deaf to the guests who can hear nothing over the sound of jazz –, he leads you from the banquet hall. Your refusal to reciprocate the conversation would have swayed any man from pursuing you. Any man, except Fugo.

Your bed has been made, and now you must lie in it.

Your back meets the wall of the closet. Fugo braces you with his own hand, warding off the wood’s bite. The unoccupied fingers of his opposite hand reach for the hardened nub between your folds, toying you open. He feels your core tighten around his shaft and an airy moan escapes you.

It is too hot, but neither of you seem to mind it very much.

With each aching thrust, he throbs in you. You bounce against him, held up by his body that pins you in place. The hand on your back trails up to the base of your spine, threading in your hair and jerking your head away. You tingle at his bluntness. Encouraged by it, you reach for his neck and pull his face down to yours, claiming his mouth with your own.

It is sweeter than he ever imagined. Your teeth graze his plump lip. He groans as you slide your tongue in his mouth, battling for dominance. Though, as accosted by the uncomfortable angle that your head has been bent to, you have no other choice than to surrender. Incited by his little victory, Fugo relinquishes his hold and pulls out, leaving you feeling utterly empty. You whine, practically keening for his touch.

He turns you around until your chest hits the wall. His manhood, stiff and slick with your wetness, teases the crest of your behind – and he enters you again, swiftly, full of unspent energy that propels your forward. Your palms smack the surface before you, desperate for something to cling onto. You settle for the mounted coatrack. Fugo’s fingers latch onto your hips with such ferocity that bruises will be sure to form in the coming days.

Purple will look good on you, he decides, and so he grips even harder. You cry out, struggling to meet his pace. Excited, nonetheless.

“Strawberry cake, huh?” he asks between soft grunts, his voice husky.

You laugh, breathless. “I thought it might rile you up,” you tell him, confessing your intention. “I took a gamble, and it paid off.”

“It did, cara.”

He is content that you had been the one to make the first move – because he could never find the gull to do it himself. To have you writhing in ecstasy at his touch is a reverie personified and more; a newfound warmth and comfort, only for him.

The doorknob shakes. Despite Fugo’s strawberry-patterned tie fastened to the overhead rack from the handle, which acts as a makeshift barricade, you panic and push off the wall, bucking into his torso.

“P-Panni –” you whisper. He thrusts deeper, eliciting a pleasant noise from you. “We have to stop. Someone’ll hear us.”

He urges you back into place. You cry out again when he hits your sensitive depths, but he is quick to stifle your pandemonium by placing his hand over your mouth; it is dampened, clammy with sweat, just like the rest of your body and his. “You have to be quiet,” he croons in your ear. You shiver and grind against the fullness between your legs. “Can you do that for me, bella? Starai tranquilla per me?”

You nod. Fugo feeds on your eagerness, picking up his pace. Unable to contain his own moans, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your intimacy-induced musk. It is intoxicating. Not long after, you surrender to the coil in your belly – you reach your limit and come undone. Exhausted, you slump onto his torso. His hand falls from your mouth, moving to grasp the mounds of your chest.

With one last cry, he finishes, coating your walls with his release. He traces the crook of your cheek and kisses you twice more. Relationships between members of Passione are dangerous – affection is vulnerability. And yet, Fugo would give everything away to be vulnerable for you; a promise amongst many that he will not keep. In the moment, however, it makes for a pretty sentiment.

Shades of greens and violets dance throughout your vision. Content, you flash him a tired smile.

“Before we go back out, there’s something I should tell you,” you begin. “I love you, Panni. I always have.”

His heart blooms. Of course, deep down, he already knew. 

You collapse to the ground in a heap of fabric that once resembled a gown, yours knees skinning against the floors. Sore, used, and broken. The beads of the intricate embroidery scatter from being torn away in Fugo’s mood. An uncomfortable stickiness coats your inner thighs. Sobbing, you clutch the remnants of your dress, shielding yourself from the man who violated you so.

From the man whom you once adored like the moon amongst stars.

He readjusts the zipper to his trousers. Painfully, your legs vibrate. Otherwise, you might stand on your own. Noticing this, he extends his hand to you, expecting you to accept it so as to pull you to your feet. Incredulous, you smack him away, pushing yourself further adrift despite the dissent of your limbs. You have been set ablaze from the inside out.

“Get away from me,” you demand. There is not enough space on earth to satisfy your longing to distance your being and his. For a moment, you think you have hurt him – and irks you to do it again. “Ti odio, Fugo. I hate you more than anything else. Do you understand me? I hate you!”

He winces, struck by your venom; still, he holds his hand out. You would rather cast yourself from the nearest balcony than to welcome his help. His fleeting patience diminishes – before you may throw another jab his way, he has pulled you to stand, his hands nestled too tightly around your biceps. You manage to wrench yourself free and lash out. Your palm meets his face in a hurried slap. He staggers backwards, relinquishing his grip. At first, he feels nothing.

And then, pinpricks.

“[Y/N], I –”

“Save your apology for someone who cares.”

The door slams behind you. He listens until he can no longer hear the hurried sounds of your heels clacking off the marble floors. You are gone, again – to Mista or whoever else is to blame for Fugo’s loneliness. Sighing heavily, he turns to the mirror above the vanity.

He remembers a time, at the age of sixteen, when he was far too afraid of mirrors, because he never cared for the man who stared back at him. A day in Pompeii; you were so fearful for his wellbeing that you nearly fainted when he came back, bloodied and worn down.

The red handprint upon his face is nothing more than a mockery among many others to his character. He finds the object nearest to his reach: a silver drinking carafe that has been used as a vase for roses beside a candle with a smoldered wick atop a cherry-wood nightstand. Thrown from his fingers, the carafe shatters the mirror. A web of faces in mimicry of his own screams in anguish.

In his rage, he sees not red, but purple. Violent purple and harlequin motifs. Tears form in his eyes – though, to be honest, for all his time spent in utter bitterness, he has forgotten what pure unadulterated regret feels like.

It feels like it is raining again.

| 3008 Words |

[1eos]

hi kendra 🥺 i was wondering if u have any advice with dealing with feeling ugly or like you're "running out of time" im 17 (turned 17 during the pandemic ;0;) and idk... i feel like ive wasted four years and that soon enough, i wont be able to consider myself 'cute' or 'pretty' :(

oh anon 😔 i swear every teenager that feels like theyre wasting life is a sign of how society has failed us. but uhhh i think the most important thing to do is broaden your perspective nd look at the ppl in their 20s, 30s, 40s even 80s who are beautiful nd thriving nd learning new things. absolutely no one peaks at 17. like no one at all. at 17 u probably don’t even have the money to dress how you really want you yet or buy the skin care u want😭😭😭 go hang out with older ppl if u can nd they will drill into your head how YOUNG you are!!!!!!!!! no shade to teenagers but y’all think hitting 20 is the end of youth when it’s just not true!!!! aging isn’t bad aging doesn’t make u ‘ugly’ aging is just getting older at most u just need to change your diet a lil nd take vitamins but highkey u need to be doing that at any age. i can attest to you that i look nd feel sooooooooooo much better at 24 than i did at 17 nd when i was 17 i thought i was old nd had nothing to live for fjakfajkfja

nd when it comes to the the concept of ‘wasting time’....take that phrase out of your vocabulary. its impossible to waste time esp in a global pandemic when taking care of your physical nd mental health should be everyone’s top priority. but just in general the concept of wasting time im p sure is from capitalism making us feel guilty for wanting to exist in peace!!!!!! with the exception of maybe gymnastics there’s no skill u can’t start at any time of your life there’s no experience you can’t have! my aunt got her masters degree in her 30s my grandma started making her own wigs in her 50s nd the time before they did that stuff is not wasted at all! 

tl;dr........take your time to enjoy your life. if you want to do nothing for a day that’s fine that’s good we need to REST nd we need to learn to enjoy the MOMENT!!!!!!!!!! if you’re always worrying abt wasting time or losing your youth then you’re not enjoying the moments that make it up!!!!!!!!! nd know that aging is not a degradation of the self but rather a maturation nd refinement!!!!! look at icon miss angela bassett she’s like 60 nd is even sexier!!!!! aging =/= becoming uglier!!!