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wildechildwrites · 1 year ago

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Corn Syrup

Johnny "Soap" McTavish/Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+, Miscommunication Trope, Light Injury/Violence, Angst, Smut (lol)

No Use of Y/N

Summary: You get injured in combat and Soap has been acting weird since. He won't even talk to you.

A/N: I hate the no communication Trope as much as the rest of you but I promise the pay off is good. Kensington Gore is a short companion piece to this fic that's Unrequited! Ghost/Soap/Reader

AO3 Link: Corn Syrup

The blood seeping through your uniform is bright red, and as you idly dip your hand lower, scooping some up on your fingers, all you can think is how fake it looks. Corn syrup blood, like in the movies. You let out a disbelieving laugh, locking eyes with Soap before a feverish pain slams through you like a ton of bricks and you crumple.

Your team fusses around you, hurrying to get you back to base while Soap holds steady pressure on your wound. You can’t stop laughing about the blood, about how unreal it is that it’s yours and that there’s so much.

“Jesus lass, you’d think bein’ shot would be enough ta shut you up,” Soap said, his voice sounding floaty and above your head. You blink hard to clear the fuzziness around your eyes. Another laugh bubbles out of your throat.

“If you’d prefer me silent, Sergeant, I can think of a few ways you could shut me up,” you slur back provocatively. Johnny doesn't laugh like he’s supposed to, only presses his mouth into a thin line. His face is the last thing you see before everything fades to black.

— — — —

It’s your first time back on base since you’ve been shot. Your recovery had been relatively quick, but you were still itching to get back into the field, and back to your squad. They had all visited you while you were recovering, aside from one glaring omission.

Johnny.

You’d seen neither hide nor hair of the Scotsman for the duration of your hospital stay. Even Ghost had come to see you, looking stark and ridiculous in the fluorescent lights. You had tried to broach the subject with him, meekly asking after Soap, but Ghost had just stared at you, his light blue eyes unreadable, until you had dropped the subject.

You and Johnny had always had a close relationship. He had been the first to fully embrace you as a member of 141, and you two had been attached at the hip since then. You trained together more than with anyone, constantly cracking jokes and poking fun at each other.

You also had a deep, intense infatuation with him.

You tried to keep it under wraps, terrified of making him feel uncomfortable and ruining the deep friendship you two had. You tried to avoid any physical contact unless absolutely necessary, keeping things platonic to the extreme and constantly dodging the sexual innuendos Soap was always lobbing at you.

There had been moments of tension of course, mostly under heavy stress, where it had felt as if his gaze had lingered longer than usual, but you knew it was all in your head. There had been a single drunken kiss after a successful mission, but it hadn’t meant anything to him.

The unit had gone out to celebrate, and Soap, not being one to shirk a Scottish stereotype, had gotten absolutely sloshed. The rest of the team had left the booth you were occupying to try their hand at beating Ghost at pool, and Soap, unable to stand, had scooted closer to you, grabbing your waist with his large hands and pulling you into him, smelling strongly of liquor and muttering about how you were ‘bonnie’. Then he kissed you, and your world ended because he tasted like whiskey and made your brain turn to goo and your toes tingle, so you retreated to the bathroom like a coward and never brought it up again.

You had wished desperately that he would visit you in the hospital. You were restless and couldn’t figure out why he would be avoiding you, eventually coming to the conclusion that you had scared him off, that your delirious joke had made him uncomfortable enough that he needed to distance himself from you. Your chest ached at the thought. You had managed to do the one thing you had been trying desperately to avoid, ruining the best friendship you’ve ever had in a careless, blood-soaked moment.

Debriefing made it painfully obvious that Soap avoiding you was not just in your head. Everyone was excited to see you, and even Captain Price had given you a quick but firm hug.

“Good to have you back,” he said gruffly. Gaz beamed at you from where he sat and you felt yourself grinning, before your eyes fluttered to Soap and your face fell. Soap sat in the corner of the room next to Ghost, staring resolutely at his boots. You spent the entire briefing half listening, trying to get Johnny to at least meet your eye. After the meeting, he darted out of the room and you decided to go after him, running out the door.

“Soap!” You called out, but the Scottish man just turned the corner like he hadn’t heard you. It felt like someone had sucker punched you in the chest. You really had ruined everything. He wouldn’t even acknowledge your existence. Ghost silently slid in place beside you, and you looked up at him desperately, the confusion evident in your eyes. He put a hesitant hand on your shoulder. Your throat felt tight, and you ducked away from him, making a break for your room.

Days have gone by, and Soap continues to ignore your existence. You were an over tuned guitar string, constantly close to snapping. Soap and Ghost were training in the gym together throwing punches when you walked through the door, intent on the treadmills to help relieve some stress. Both men looked up at you and Soap immediately turned and headed towards the locker room.

You felt tears well up in your eyes. You don’t understand why he hated you this much. It hurt. You just wanted your friend back but he wouldn’t even let you close enough to apologize for whatever you did wrong. You could feel Ghost’s eyes on you again and you turn away, trying to hide your tears. You leave the gym and walk quickly back to your room, your head down. You closed the door and let out a sob.

You cry until your chest hurts and your nose runs like a facet, curled up in your bed under the covers. When you were out of tears, you lay there silently, staring blankly at the wall. Someone knocks, but you don’t react. Your door creaks open.

“Lass?” Soap calls out, his voice a mere whisper. His heavy footsteps draw nearer to your blanketed sanctuary. You let out an audible sigh, turning over and sitting up to glare at him, hair mussed and nose puffy.

“You've been avoiding me.” You croak. Soap has the decency to look ashamed of himself. “You didn’t even visit me in the hospital. Not even once.”

You level him with a stare he’s only ever seen when you’d slotted a knife in between a man’s ribs, and Johnny feels the same distinct sensation of agony stabbing in his chest.

Then everything is spilling out of him at once, words tumbling between his lips before his brain can hope to catch up.

“I couldn’t stand ta face you. Seeing you like that nearly made me lose my fuckin’ mind. Cacklin’ like a banshee, bleedin’ everywhere and then you looked up at me with those eyes… Christ lass, I was unraveling.” Soap’s knees hit the bed, and suddenly he's kneeling next to you, closer than he’d been since that fateful mission.

You stare at him in shock. His voice is edging near hysterical. “Could barely keep it together enough to keep the pressure on the bleedin’. And then you blurt out that stupid fuckin’ line, something you'd never say, damn near delirious, and I realized that the girl I’d been pinin’ after for months was gonna die in my arms.”

“Johnny,” you whisper, but he carries on, the waterfall of words continuing without interruption.

Then his lips are on yours, and you don’t taste the whiskey this time, but your toes tingle and your brain melts just the same. Your hands go for his hair, fingers curling in his mohawk, and he lets out a keening sound against your lips, dragging you closer to him. His hands are warm and everywhere, holding you like you’ll disappear in between his fingers.

“I'm in agony. You don' understand what I'd for you. What I’d do to you. And it wasn’ until I’d almost lost you that I realized how much I fuckin’ burn for you,” he whispers, fervent as a hymn.

Soap’s got you pinned under him, and you can feel him, hard against your thigh, feel it twitch when he pulls back just so he can look at you, lips swollen from the kiss, his eyes wild.

“Tell me you don’ want me too,” he pants, but you can’t do anything but stare, because you’ve never really let yourself truly look at him before, not so openly, and he’s so goddamn beautiful.

“You’ve got lovely eyelashes,” you finally say, and reach up to gently touch his face. He leans in again, recaptures your lips with enough force to bruise, crushing you against him like he’s trying to shove you into his ribcage, like with enough force he can fuse your skin together, and you think you may break from the weight of it all, drown in the tidal wave of his sudden affection without complaint.

He wanders, his mouth moving to your neck, and he bites down and grinds his hips into yours, swallowing the gasp you make at the contact. You rake your nails down his back and he positively whimpers, melting further into you, sucking and nipping at any exposed skin he can reach, a hand wandering in between your thighs, thick fingers pressing against your clothed sex.

You feel like you're being consumed by the sun, warm and blinding as Soap makes practiced work of your pants, stripping you bare, letting out a quiet groan at the sight of you. Eagerly he begins kissing his way down your chest and stomach, landing between your thighs. You clench them together almost instinctively, suddenly shy, and as he pries your legs apart with a cocky grin, it hits you just how much you've missed him.

Johnny devours you like he hasn't had a meal in weeks, wet and messy, and you feel yourself coming towards the edge, a warm knot building inside you even as you pull on his hair, trying to get him to come up for air.

"You're gonna suffocate if you don't breathe," you gasp out, and you can feel him smirk against you. He pulls back, slightly out of breath, his mouth wet and hair tousled.

“I ken think of no sweeter place ta die,” he says playfully, kissing the inside of your thigh before diving back in.

You almost fall over the edge the minute that Johnny shoves one of his thick fingers inside you, curling it just right, hitting the perfect spot and making you see stars. He moans along with you, eyes bright, watching you come undone from in between your thighs. Your legs shake and you clench around his head as he coaxes you through it, and you're still seeing stars when he pulls himself up to pull you into another searing kiss. You can feel the hardness of him bumping your clit, and that's all the warning you get before he lines himself up with your entrance and presses into you.

He’s big and it stretches and hurts even though you're soaking. Everything is just too much, too fast. Things you've been suppressing for months are all bubbling up, and all you can feel and taste and see is him, the blinding sun to your lonely moon. Johnny shushes you gently, touching your face even as his body is trembling with the effort of resisting the urge to drive his hips into you as hard as he can.

“I don’ mean to be so eager,” he says, dropping his forehead to yours. “I’ve missed you, lass.” He kisses you lightly, and you realize there are tears running down your cheeks.

"I thought you hated me," you whimper, "I thought I had scared you off or annoyed you and that you didn't care about me."

Johnny stares at you with a look that shatters you into pieces, agony and tenderness tangled together in equal measure.

“Christ,” he says, voice gravelly, “don’ you know I’m in love with you?” And then he pushes his hips forward, filling you up, his hips meeting yours as he sheaths himself completely inside of you. You gasp, tears still flowing as he kisses you, soft and slow. Then he begins to move, drawing his hips back before bottoming out again, and it hurts less now, a familiar heat building low in your stomach.

Johnny’s rough but gentle, his own restraint on a razor thin wire, too aware of the scar tissue just above his coarse hands even as he’s slamming his hips into yours, feeling you clench down and squirm, your nails tearing into his shoulders and raking down his back.

Everything feels so good, you’re so warm and alive beneath him, the skin he’s been dying to touch for ages and the sounds you’re making are driving him wild, the whimpers and gasps making him feel like a teenager, ruining his stamina and pushing his control. You’re pretty even in tears and even as Johnny swears under his breath that he’ll never make you cry again, he admires the glassiness of your eyes, the tremble of your bottom lip.

“I-it’s so b-ig” you whine, your breath hitching with every thrust. Your walls are fluttering around him as he stretches you open, your hips rolling up to meet his thrusts. Johnny moans, his hips stuttering.

“-m’not gonna last much longer” he pants, “want you ta cum on my cock first.” Your breath hitches and his heart flutters along with it, reaching down to thumb your clit, making you whimper and tighten around him. You grab his face, pulling him down to kiss you as you feel yourself falling over the edge, moaning against his mouth as you feel his cock twitch inside you, filling you up. Soap slumps against you, his cock still sheathed in you as he delicately kisses your mouth. You kiss him back in a daze, your legs trembling and brain foggy.

“I love you too,” you whisper, words muffled by his soft lips on yours, and Johnny sighs wistfully, pulling back to look at you. One of his warm hands reaches up to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.

Unrequited Ghost Part 2

#soap #johnny mctavish #john soap mactavish #soap/reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #soap mw2 #johhny soap mactavish #reader insert #john soap mactavish x reader

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chaoticgenders · 3 years ago

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jeff the killer headcanons, if you like these n want more tell me becuz i might make a headcanon/one shot tumblr. i've always wanted too, it sounds amazing lol

knife tw under the cut, ig, idk it's jeff the killer

Jeff The Killer

this is relativity a different concept of jeff, because i'm rewriting his story and things r very different lmaooo.

20s/30s

His name is really spelt Geoffrey and he goes by Geo for short. lol.

ppl spell it jeff and he usually never bitched because he doesn't care.

mouth is relatively healed, although he can't really emote much because his face is numb due to nerve loss, talking is also hard.

how i consider his story he's had upper eyelid reconstruction and he has relativity normal eyes, although his vision is quite terrible and wears glasses.

He has selective mutism because I said so.

ADHD haver

he also has ASPD, i'm projecting but it makes sense to me shush /t

bites finger nails

does knife tricks bcuz what else r u doing in ur spare time lol

i read somewhere that he loves middle parts and it just makes sense to me

his hair is silky as hell and goes to the top of his back

voice is very scratchy and there's always something stuck in his throat it seems

he's always clearing his throat

he's a really good hugger and likes to bear hug people, especially s/o's although he's prone to just patting people on the back Like A Dad.

avg weed enjoyer

because we're all thinking it, i feel like he'd be really weird in bed. not in a awkward way, but more in a "why w/ me there's plenty of other people" way lol. i wont get too nsfw on this acc, but he kisses a lot during it <3

he's relatively okay with kids, although hates being around them because they're usually scared of him, and their parents bitch at him for existing because of scaring peoples' kids.

he's always worn a face mask, the influx of covid made everything more stressful for him, but also relieving.

he's Libramasculine, Dryagender, & Genderliminal

he uses a fuck ton of pronouns, usually online (i feel like he'd be a avid tiktok and tumblr user), he uses he/they irl but he/they/it/blade/blood/slash/gore online

he's pansexual, demiromanticspike, and autoplatonic (literally he's his own bestfriend lol)

#chaos chatter #endos dni #safespace #pro mogai #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta #jeff the killer

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

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3am Friend - c. 01 - Topper Thornton

Summary: Topper and y/n have been in a “friends with benefits” relationship since September but the line between friendship and something more are already starting to blur.

A/N: This is basically four chapters: Fall, Winter, Spring, and Summer. Also it’s going to be a bit of a practice run at writing more smut for me lol. Also it’s smut like, right under the cut lol.

Sophomore Year Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

What were you doing with your life...

You bit down on your bottom lip to stifle a moan as Topper’s tongue pressed against your clit, the cold tiled wall of the shower stall pressing into your back had your skin erupting in goosebumps, a contrast to the almost burning water that was hitting you. It was futile to bother concealing whatever noises Topper managed to pull out of you, the curtains of the shower stalls did little to shield their occupants from the rest of the communal bathroom, the plastic more often than not creating the perfect outline of whoever decided to use the showers. There would be no mistaking you, pressed against the wall, one leg tossed over Topper’s shoulder, his own figure silhouetted, kneeling in front of you with his hands digging into your hips.

If anyone did find you there was a 90% chance that they weren’t just going to let you off with a ‘sorry for intruding while some guy eats you out in the shower’ but any concern you actually had about the consequences of your hookup had died the minute Topper had joined you in the shower stall. Technically he’d texted you to come over to his dorm, he lived right off the main campus, close to your building, in a still operational fraternity house. He split a room with some guy who liked to stare but never actually talk when you came around. Yours was not a relationship of anything substantial. You’d hooked up with Topper at a party and exchanged numbers and, two days later, responded to a very obvious booty call at one in the morning.

“Holy shit!” You cursed, your voice coming out an octave higher than usual, fingers gripping Topper’s short blond hair. You could feel every muscle in your body tense as you tried to keep yourself upright, your other hand grabbing hold of the dial on the faucet in a desperate attempt to not completely fall apart as Topper sucked on your clit. He had moved one of his hands at some point, middle finger now moving rhythmically in and out of your entrance, working you through an orgasm.

When you came down, your muscles relaxing and you pushing back against the wall to keep yourself steady, leg slipping off Topper’s shoulder, he stood up. He caged you in almost immediately, moving as close as possible in the stall and kissing you, the salty taste of cum still there on his mouth. “That pad really comes in handy,” he teased, referring to the silicone mat you’d bought two weeks earlier to scrub your feet without trying to do a yoga pose in the shower.

You hummed, “I’ll leave that in my review on Amazon. Great for not bruising your knees.” When he kissed you again you smiled, eyes fluttering closed for a split second. This was the worst part. The part when you ran out of things to say and he would untangle himself from your arms and leave, promise to text you later.

It was the thing that your roommate had warned you about in the beginning that you had ignored.

“That’s like, not even friends with benefits though.” She had admonished when you told her for the first time that you had started this bizarre relationship with Topper. “I mean, you’re literally having casual sex with some rando guy that you hooked up with at a party. At a frat party. Do you even fucking know anything about him?”

“I know his name,” you had replied, rummaging through your closet to find something to wear to class, “and his phone number so I can booty call him.”

“Brilliant.” She snapped, “he could be some fucking weirdo axe murderer preying on college girls.”

You rolled your eyes, “he’s the same age as us.” You had never been one for casual sex in your life until this point and you weren’t sure why it seemed enticing now but you wanted to branch out a little. You’d gotten your first boyfriend in ninth and you’d stuck with him until August of this, your sophomore year of college. He broke up with you, claiming the distance between your school and his was too much for him to deal with.

It was your roommate that had dragged you to the party at the fraternity house, claiming that it would get your mood up after the guy you’d been with for the last five years decided he couldn’t do the 2 hour commute between your school and his. Three shots of tequila later and the blond you couldn’t take your eyes off of asking if you wanted to ‘go somewhere quiet’ were all the motivation you needed to put the past behind you and stop groveling over a guy who wasn’t even there.

Still, the fact remained, even now as Topper put his hands on your hips, looking at you through the mirror and kissing the back of your head, you knew that casual sex was not your forte. Not simply because you had never done it before but because you found yourself craving those small, just after when the bubble had broken yet and there was still some lingering affection, moments as much as you craved the sex. But you had both agreed, casual. Something to take your mind off school for a few hours, a stress relief. For you it was more than that. You’d never been the most confident when it came to sex or your body, all that self-love/self-care crap was wasted on you and your gnawing insecurities. Having casual sex was like constantly challenging yourself to be your most exposed and most intimate with someone who was still relatively a stranger to you.

“You know I think it was technically supposed to be my turn,” you mentioned, running the wide-toothed comb through your hair. You should’ve detangled in the shower except that wasn’t really top priority. What would you even say, ‘oh, would you mind not eating me out for a second so I can brush my hair’…you’d live with the awkward waves that dried in.

“I thought we switched.” Topper shrugged, pulling his sweatpants back on. His shirt went over his head and you involuntarily pouted at the mirror, there went the view.

“No, I said…this doesn’t technically count.” You replied, referring to the party three nights earlier and the head you’d given to avoid having actual sex on your period. You were at the tail end and you’d contemplated not going to the frat house at all but changed your mind at the last moment.

“Hey, if you’re offering, I’m not gonna turn you down.” He joked.

You turned to look at him, the mirror not sufficing as you stuck your tongue out playfully. “I have a test tomorrow, I have to study.”

“Come over, you can study in my room. We’ll hang out.”

“We are incapable of hanging out Topper.” You replied, grabbing your shower caddy and heading for the door. He walked right out after you, both of you ignoring the rather appreciative stare of one of the other girls on your floor.

“Not true,” he’d suffered a nasty break-up in high school that he gave no more background to other than to say she had cheated on him extensively. Casual seemed to be the best he could allow himself to do though you weren’t sleeping with anyone else and, as far as you knew, neither was he.

Your roommate looked up from her desk, rolling her eyes at the sight of Topper following you into your dorm. In the beginning of September, when this first started, it felt like you only ever disappeared at night. You saw Topper when he texted you and you might smile in the café but you never actively sought each other out. Now it was creeping toward November though, with Halloween right around the corner, and Topper felt like an accessory. He was always right there wherever you were, not that you were complaining. To anyone on the outside you looked like a couple but you both maintained the friends with benefits story.

“Oh look who it is.” Almost two whole months of him and your roommate still greeted Topper with a disdainful glare. She was fervent in her belief that the guy you thought was damn near perfect (if only he’d actually date you) was hiding some deep-seated flaw.

“Hey G,” Topper greeted, taking a seat on your bed as if he couldn’t tell just how annoyed your roommate was.

Geena and you had been thrown together after enduring a freshman year from hell. Her roommate from the year prior had been awful, like caging yourself in with some 00’s mean girl who only found satisfaction in watching you suffer. Your own freshman roommate had been neurotic about the dorm and constantly scrutinized whether your cleaning methods were sufficient. Geena was a blessing, you got along well, hung out all the time, had become fast friends in the short time since the beginning of the semester. Topper was the only thing you didn’t agree on. She thought it was unhealthy, that it would only lead to heartbreak.

“You can’t have casual sex with a guy for three years…people already think you’re dating. Some girl I don’t even know asked me if I could get her into a Phi Sig party next week cause my roomie is dating one of the guys.” There was a new reason almost daily with Geena, like she tore away a new page on the calendar and it offered up cons to your relationship with Topper in lieu of a word for the day.

“I can ask for her.”

“Oh my god, that is not the point.” She snapped.

You sighed, “I don’t really care if people think we’re dating.”

“Why?” She asked the question so smugly you already knew where she was going with this. And you knew why it didn’t bother you that people thought you were dating, why you sometimes even fanned that flame.

“G-“

“No, tell me why? People usually keep that shit quiet so they can hook-up with other people too. So why don’t you care?”

“Because if people think we’re dating…they won’t try to date him.” You shrugged, practically mumbling the last part. You hated that she knew that off the bat, that she could tell that you liked him so much in such a short span of time. And you knew she had a point to all her antagonizing. You had been in too deep since two weeks into September when he told you that you looked pretty in something your ex always said made you look fat.

You held the seam of your towel shut as you rummaged through the set of plastic drawers underneath your bed. Geena had done the bed on risers thing for optimal storage and you had followed along, semi grateful for the added space since both of you seemed inclined to transport your entire bedroom with you. Topper’s foot nudged your side as you got closer to him and you looked up, matching his smile when you caught him staring at you. You were sure Geena was sitting behind you rolling her eyes.

“Guess I’ll go grab something to eat.” She announced, as if your very presence had worn her down.

“I’m just getting changed, I think we’re heading over to Topper’s.” You replied, looking back over your shoulder at her.

Geena scrunched her nose and stood up anyway, “still would rather not be here while you got dressed so I don’t have to pretend like I can’t see this one leering at you.” She shot Topper a look of contempt as she passed. If it was real, if he asked you out and he was really, actually, your boyfriend, Geena was positive she’d have no problems with him. He seemed like alright and he certainly made you happier and more confident than she’d seen you in the beginning of the year. But she hated the thought of you getting hurt and didn’t want to be just sitting on the sidelines watching it happen.

“I don’t leer.” He joked, turning back to you once she was out the door, “I don’t leer.”

You didn’t answer, instead grabbing your underwear out of the top drawer and pulling them on once the door was shut. The first time you had ever gotten dressed with Topper around you’d made sure that you were obscured from view, still too bashful and self-conscious of the way that you looked without clothes on. There was still that split second moment when you doubted yourself, when you thought about maneuvering your towel to hide your body from view, as if after two months Topper might suddenly look at you and decide he didn’t like the softness of your stomach or the width of your hips or any other imperfection you could find.

You pushed through the voice though, dropping your towel and getting dressed. When you reached for the bralette your tossed on the bed beside him you realized he was looking at you. “G might have a point, maybe I should turn around.” You teased, his eyes snapping up to meet yours.

“I’m admiring the view.” Topper replied, not at all embarrassed at being caught.

You rolled your eyes, pulling your bralette on and adjusting your boobs until it sat right. “I don’t even know why I’m putting this on,” you mentioned, grabbing his sweatshirt to pull on over it, “I should just stop wearing underwear to your room and then I won’t ever lose it.”

“You lose stuff? Whose wearing my hoodie right now?” He asked, grabbing the edge of the hood to pull you closer to him.

“Your room has swallowed three of my bras...the nice ones too. Or Will like, took them.” You said.

If there was some kind of formal set of rules that you and Topper had ever thought to draft, kissing outside of actually having sex with each other should have qualified as a major no. But nothing of the sort had ever been discussed and now, Topper leaned over, stealing a quick kiss before he got off your bed. Maybe now didn’t count as a ‘just friends’ moment though since technically you were heading back to his room, presumably to have sex. To finish what he’d started when he showed up seconds before you got a shower.

“What would Will need your bras for?”

“To masturbate over? Who knows...all I’m saying is, I wear bras to your room, I never seem to leave with them.” You replied.

“I promise I will find all your missing bras today, okay?” He grabbed your lanyard off the hook, keys and wallet all in one place, pulling the door open for you. “Wanna grab pizza later?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, waiting a beat to answer him. Grabbing pizza meant, inevitably, hanging out after. Becoming friends was unavoidable, there was no way that either of you could have navigated sleeping together without some sort of relationship forming. So far it was only friendship, or at least that was all either of you were willing to let it be. Anything more than that meant an actual romantic relationship forming, something you wanted but were determined not to let yourself even entertain the idea of.

“Fine but not from that place by Barnaby's.” You replied, pushing the door open and stepping out into the quad with him. The local bar was always teeming with college students and the last thing you wanted was someone recognizing Topper, because everyone always seemed to recognize Topper, and invite the two of you in.

“We’ll just get it delivered.” He shrugged.

The first time you met Topper, enough to tequila to not make you totally embarrassed as you danced with Geena in the main room of the Phi Sig frat house, you had laughed when he told you his name. It was a combination of the heels you borrowed from another girl on your floor and the alcohol that had you losing your footing, catching yourself in time not to smash your whole body into a coffee table, and landing on the couch beside Topper. He was taking a sip of beer and looked relatively startled when some almost drunk girl fell into the spot next to him.

“Sorry!” You’d shouted over the bass as you tried to undo the straps of the heels that you were sure were also guilty of twisting your ankle.

When he introduced himself two sentences later, “I’m Topper” you couldn’t resist a good dad-joke and smiled at him, “but I hardly know her!”

“Amazing.” He had been less amused by the joke than you were though he didn’t really seem bothered by it, at least not bothered enough to move on because he stayed on the couch for three more turns of the conversation before asking if you wanted to talk elsewhere. You were sober enough to know exactly what he meant and obliged because you were still kinda pissed at your ex and you didn’t want this year to pass the same as last year had, with nothing but school work to show as a passing of time.

At least you’d have a good story to tell.

Highschool you had a healthy apprehension of frat houses and the people who lived in them. You’d seen enough episodes of CSI, Law and Order, Veronica Mars, and any other crime show that existed in the early 00’s to know that frat houses were breeding grounds for terrible things. Your parents had even attempted to sway you from going to your first-choice college simply because the greeks still existed on campus. You could only imagine what they’d think now, knowing that you had spent more time in Topper’s room than you had in your own in the last month at least.

Frat houses might’ve been sordid in your mind but so far, your reality of this one was exactly what it looked like on the surface, a bunch of guys living together with limited supervision. You still stuck to Topper whenever you were inside but you’d never had a problem with anyone in there and you rightly assumed that most of them just figured you were his girlfriend.

“Will told me he wants that TA position next year, with Prof Berkley.” You mentioned, flopping back onto Topper’s bed and tilting your head so you could look over to the empty other side of the room that belonged to his roommate. Aside from staring at you too much and possibly stealing your bras, you still had a hunch that Topper was just messing with you and had them stashed away somewhere, Will was alright. You were both in the same area of study, pre-law, and he had told you days earlier that he was gunning for the same TA position with your advisor as you were.

“I don’t know anything about it.” Topper replied, kicking his slides off and climbing onto his bed with you. The countdown in your head started now, hopefully soon you would be naked.

“Yes, you do because I literally told you about it at breakfast.” You pointed out. He’d texted you that morning to get coffee with him and you ignored Geena when she told you that sex-friends don’t get coffee together. “I said I was applying for the TA spot because it’s a massive opportunity.”

“Sounds like something I don’t have an opinion on.” He said, rolling over so that he could kiss you. “Enough chit-chat.”

“You’ve got a one-track mind Thornton.” You joked, moving your arms above your head as he pulled his sweatshirt off of you.

“Well can I interest you in getting on that track with me?” He replied, lips brushing over your neck as he spoke. You hadn’t bothered to put on any makeup before you left your dorm, you hadn’t even bothered to dry your hair all the way. But who were you to worry about things like that when Topper was pushing your bralette up over your head.

You jerked slightly, wriggling around on the bed when the fabric got caught half way up your arms, binding them above your head and covering your face, Topper taking advantage of the moment and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around it as you arched your back into him. “Topper!” You whined.

He hummed, pulling away from you to take the bralette the rest of the way off and tossing it off the bed, ��sorry, couldn’t resist.” He said, smiling at you as if he truly couldn’t resist. The thought made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You didn’t let yourself have the moment though, pulling him in for a kiss the moment he had untangled you, hand on the back of his neck as you ran your tongue against his bottom lip, biting gently as you pulled away. Topper held himself up on one elbow, his other hand pushing passed your sweatpants.

“Always right down to business,” you teased.

“What do you want me to take you out first?” He was joking, you knew that, but the way he said almost sounded like he truly would take you out if you wanted him to. But then what would this be, if you had dinner before you hooked up.

“Some foreplay would be nice.” You kept the conversation light, the way you always did, and he laughed.

“I thought the shower was foreplay.”

You would’ve answered, thought of something witty to make him laugh again, but he had pushed your underwear to the side, fingers pushing passed your folds to brush your clit. He made the same satisfied hum that he always did when he realized that you were wet, like a quiet pat on the back. His middle finger circled your clit, a barely there shudder of nerves setting off in your stomach as you moaned.

“I was supposed to,” you managed as he shifted further down the bed and you realized what he was doing.

“We have plenty of time.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your stomach.

Topper hadn’t seriously dated anyone since his break-up with Sarah. Kelce told him constantly that he was putting too much on that relationship, as if it was the holy grail by which to rate every other relationship that he had. And maybe he was allowing himself to be too scorned by something that lasted little more than a summer but he couldn’t help it. Topper was nothing if not a hopeless romantic and that had felt like such an idealistic time in his life until it all inevitably crashed around him.

He tried casual hook-ups before you. A few girls from high school that he knew that made it practically impossible for the casual to still exist alongside the hook-up. College was easier but freshman year had been mostly dedicated to rushing the fraternity that his dad and grandfather and great grandfather had all rushed before him. Then he met you at a party in the beginning of sophomore year and he told himself it was casual but he knew that this was far from it.

You weren’t anything like Sarah and maybe he had done that on purpose. Specifically slept with someone that didn’t remind him of anyone back home as some way to separate himself from that part of his life. To fully embody the frat boy, jock, life he was trying to live through. He figured it would just be a onetime thing and then maybe a sometime thing but now it was most definitely an all the time thing. Kelce told him that he should just ask you out but Topper felt like he was in too deep already.

This was supposed to be strictly friends with benefits, if he crossed that line and you said no he would be crushed.

“Topper,” you moaned, bringing him back to the moment. You shuddered as he pulled his fingers out of you, placing a kiss just below your belly button. When you tugged at the short blond hairs at the back of his head he shifted, letting you lead him back up so that you could kiss him.

You had told him specifically that it was your turn, as if he really cared about taking turns at all. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? You don’t have some fussy girlfriend bitching about giving you head.” Rafe’s colourful comments about the situation had been largely ignored but Topper knew, less crudely, he was right. The whole reason the two of you had started this was for sex of any kind and you had been the one to suggest taking turns.

“My ex wasn’t very forthcoming with praise. He always told me I was kinda shitty at sucking dick so, maybe it’d be kinda nice to practice.” It’s been a colourful sentiment, one you had felt oddly comfortable sharing with Topper when the two of you first sat in his room discussing the arrangement.

And while he wholeheartedly disagreed with your ex-boyfriend, Topper just liked being the one to give. He liked that moment when everything overwhelmed you enough that you let go and stopped worrying about if you looked attractive in a certain position or if your thighs were too big or if you had any unwanted rolls. That split second between overthinking and not thinking at all was powerful and Topper liked being the one who caused it. He liked the way you looked in his bed, biting your bottom lip to keep quiet so other guys in the house didn’t hear you. The way your hair tangled just from laying on your back. He could list a million things, every one more obscure, less noticeable, than the last because he felt like when you were around all he could do was pay attention.

“Hey, quit daydreaming about Hailey Bieber-“ you teased as Topper’s movements slowed down, his lips brushing languidly against your collar like he was in some lethargic trance.

He squeezed your side, baring his teeth to nip at your neck, scraping them across your skin and making you laugh as you turned your head towards his. That lazy smile you got was there, eyes hooded as you watched him, the moment passed and he leaned in to kiss you again. When he broke away it was only to grab a condom from the box on his dresser.

Topper pushed your legs apart, settling between them. He slipped one hand beneath your back, guiding it into an arch to bring your chest closer to him, mouth finding one of your breasts. His tongue pressed against your nipple, swirling around it as you dug your nails in the sheets beneath you. He looked up at you, eyes hooded, as he pushed you back down against the bed. “God,” he breathed out, “you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

You grabbed the back of Topper’s neck, pulling him into a kiss, slower than the ones before, more tender. Your other hand moved down between your bodies, finding his dick, enjoying the way he moaned against your mouth as you guided him in. Despite the orgasm he’d given you in the shower you still felt that stretch as he pushed in, kissing across your jaw and sucking a bruise into the space just behind your ear.

You would never tell Geena but somewhere between quick hook-ups and longer nights together your ‘just casual sex’ had turned into something else, something far more meaningful though neither of you would acknowledge it.

Instead you just held onto him, nails scratching a trail down his back as he found a rhythm, Instead, you just held onto him, nails scratching a trail down his back as he found a rhythm, hips snapping against yours. The sound of your panting breath and his grunts filled the room; you bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning when Topper’s fingers dipped passed your folds to massage your clit.

“Oh god, Topper,” you whined, turning your face enough to press your cheek into Topper’s pillow, the faint smell of his cologne hitting your nose. You breathed in, always a fan of the subtle musk.

“Does that feel good baby?” His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, words barely registering over the sensation of him. You opened your legs a little further, lifting your knee and hooking your leg over his back. The angle seemed to give more depth and his movements picked up speed. His fingers circled your clit faster as he continued to whisper words of encouragement to you. A quiet “come on baby, I know you’re close”.

“Are you?”

His comment had seemingly brought you just out of the haze enough to ask him if he was close. You knew you were, he knew you were, and you wanted him to be there too, just on that edge with you. As he pulled out you clenched around him and when he pushed back in it felt deeper than before, that all too familiar groan of satisfaction leaving his lips as you guided him back into a kiss. He didn’t answer your question, instead taking the opportunity to kiss you, tongue working it’s way into your mouth and dragging across your teeth. You found your grip on his hair, tugging hard enough that he jerked his hips in retaliation, hitting so deep you felt yourself go off that edge, his motion become erratic as he followed, smoothing your scream with another kiss, biting your bottom lip as he pulled away.

There was always a moment of frenzy in the beginning when you first started hooking up. You would rush to grab your clothes, partially because you felt the need to leave when the act was done and partially because you didn’t want him to linger too long on your body. You were a temporary fix for a problem he didn’t feel like dealing with on his own, he wasn’t responsible for making you feel good about yourself. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t obligated to tell you that you were beautiful or lavish any compliment onto you at all, not that your ex had ever been willing to either. You didn’t stay, for the first few weeks you trudged back across the lawn from the frat house, back to the dorms, and snuck in. But things had changed by mid October and what was once a booty call at one in the morning when he couldn’t sleep was now you going over for pizza and a study session that turned into an afternoon spent in his bed.

“What time is Will back?” You asked, sitting up as Topper came back into the room with two water bottles. There was still that awkward moment just after sex, as if neither of you knew how to leave behind the intimacy of the act and return to normal life. Like you were both waiting for the other to admit that maybe just friends wasn’t really what you wanted at all. So he disappeared downstairs to get water and you pulled your underwear and his sweatshirt back on, leaving the bra somewhere on the floor.

The empty other side of the room served as a poignant reminder that time alone was only ever temporary.

“Not sure,” he shrugged, “he’s been talking about some girl on campus that he’s dating. Won’t reveal her name apparently, he’s convinced Fitz will try to fuck with them if he finds out.” His fraternity brothers were not the same as hanging out with Kelce and Rafe every day but they weren’t the worst substitutes for entertainment. Fitz was the head of the house, a senior whose greatest claim to fame was being party to a wildly controversial radio-show that amounted to nothing more than some white guys imitating Rush Limbaugh and the Douche from Parks & Rec. He said dumb shit just to piss people off and had an unappreciated proclivity for trying to ruin any relationship one of his brothers found themselves in.

Will was always an easy target for him though he’d set his sights on you a few times, assuming like others did, that you and Topper were dating. You had never mentioned it to Topper, Fitz was gross and you were looking forward to his inevitable graduation at the end of May.

“Fitz totally would,” you replied. Last year you existed on no one’s radar. You hadn’t so much as gotten an offer to go out on a date with someone and yet this year, all because of Topper, you were sure, it felt like everyone in his circle seemed to pay attention to you in some way. “He told me he prank called Will’s mom two weeks ago pretending to be the on campus nurse for a bit on his radio show.”

Topper looked up from his phone and the pizza he was ordering, frown etched onto his features. “When did you talk to Fitz?”

“His econ class is right down the hall from my 12:30 poly sci class…he always ‘walks with me across campus’ in case I get mugged apparently.” You laughed, “I think he just does it cause he knows we hang out.”

“I didn’t know he was talking to you.”

You shrugged, Fitz had been goading you for weeks but it wasn’t anything that felt harmful. Just some mind-numbingly dumb conversation about parties and girls and his radio show and how hot he apparently thought you were. “It’s not a big deal, if he was bothering me I probably would’ve said something.”

“Right,” Topper still looked miffed despite having no reason to be. You weren’t interested in Fitz and, even if you were, what say did he have over it. That old familiar feeling crept in though, the one he recognised as the same one that the plagued him after Wheezie told him that Sarah had cheated on the boyfriend before him only to find out that she had cheated on him with John B. When he looked over you were pouting at him, “what?”

“Your room is so cold.” You replied, pulling the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands as if that was an indication of the frigid temperature. The old house lacked insulation in most of the rooms, Topper’s being one of them.

He rolled his eyes, climbing back into bed with you, the momentary worry subsiding. You weren’t his girlfriend but in that moment, as he pulled the blankets around the two of you, guiding you back down to lay with him under the covers, he could have fooled even himself about the relationship. He held his arm out in front of both of you so that you could see his phone and the menu for the pizza place.

“I’ve been really in the mood for pepperoni.” You mused, not bothering to look at the screen and opting instead to tuck your face into his bare collar. Your hand slipped down from his chest and Topper grabbed your wrist before you could make it to his briefs.

“Pizza first,” he said, “you’re already getting sleepy.”

“It’s cause I’m cold.” You insisted.

He turned to place a kiss on your forehead, “pizza.” He reminded you again.

Halloween weekend creeped up and, before you knew it, Phi Sig was decorated and advertising a Halloween haunted house party for everyone on campus. Geena was going home on the actual night of to trick or treat with her sister but she agreed to go to the party with you that weekend. She loved a good party and any excuse to dress up.

When you weren’t spending time with Topper, and sometimes when you were because he had a tendency to hang out just to hang out (the friends side of the benefit), you and Geena marathoned episodes of Supernatural. And it was at her coaxing that your Halloween costume became an homage to the show and your favorite character. A semi-loosely interpreted Dean Winchester, complete with a flannel over your black tank top and the mark of Cain crafted by Geena using her best fx makeup skills. You wore cut-off jean shorts with your hiking boots, showing off the legs that you were usually self-conscious about. Geena was Cas, sticking a little closer to the actual costume though she made a few alterations.

“I gotta ask…” Fitz said, coming up to the two of you the moment you were in the door, as if he was the greeting committee.

“I’m Dean Winchester.” You explained, “G’s Cas.”

“You dressed like a guy for Halloween?” Fitz clarified. “I was hoping for something that showed a little more…” he made a motion with his hands to indicate that the little more he wanted to see were your boobs.

“I have the obligatory sexy cat costume but that’s…” you looked passed Fitz’s shoulder, eyes landing on Topper down the hall chatting with some friends, a smile instantly lighting up your face, “that’s for his eyes only.”

Fitz looked behind him, catching sight of his frat brother and rolling his eyes before turning back to you, “yeah well, if Thornton’s not appreciative then you know where to find me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you laughed, stepping around him. Geena had broken off already, heading for the keg that had been set up in the corner. When you started down the hall Fitz found someone else to antagonise, leaving you to vie for Topper’s attention, not that it took you much. Just walking up had him breaking his concentration to look at you, the smile automatic. “Hey,” you greeted as he hugged you, keeping his arm around your waist as he brought you into the conversation.

“Hey, you look great.” He praised, offering you some of his beer. Topper’s costume was best described as JFK yachting in Hyannis. He looked like a preppy New England white boy and you suspected it was all clothing he already owned thrown together differently. There was always that slight air of prep to him though college and a growing collection of hoodies were slowly eating away at that.

“Thanks, I feel a little out of place,” you joked, noting a girl down the hall that was wearing a mock up of Amanda Seyfried’s bunny costume from Mean Girls. “Though I do have a costume change saved for later.”

“Oh yeah,” that smile was a full blown mischievous grin and you wondered for a split-second how down he would be to ditch the whole party and take you to his room. “Does it involve these clothes on my floor?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You teased.

You had been stressing over the purchase of a costume that could’ve been more accurately described as lingerie since it arrived at your dorm a week earlier. Did friends with benefits buy lingerie sets specifically for showing off? You weren’t sure where that one fell on the line but you were positive you were crossing into territory that was reserved for girlfriends. But even with those doubts, just the thought of Topper seeing you in something that was just for him to see you in somehow made you unable to pass up the opportunity.

Topper groaned, pulling you closer to him so that he could press his forehead into your neck, “baby,” his voice sounded almost close to whining and you ran a hand through his hair. He nipped at your exposed collar before lifting his head again to look at you. “How long am I supposed to wait?”

“One track mind, I’ve said it before…I’ll say it again.” You laughed, trying not to think about the way this felt so much like a relationship, pulling away from him but taking his hand, “come on, I wanna get a drink.”

He followed you to the makeshift bar set up by the keg, refilling his beer while you ladled a generous helping of jungle juice into your cup, trying to fish as many sour patch kids as you could to add to it. You were drinking mostly to calm the nerves that were bubbling up. Geena would be gone Halloween night and the whole next day because she didn’t have classes and you were thinking of inviting Topper to stay over. Regardless of the hour or the amount of time you spent together afterward, the post-coital bliss always came to an end and one of you always left the other. Even if you got breakfast the next day there was a stretch of time that existed between the night before and the morning after where you were nothing to each other but bodies.

“So, Geena’s going home on Halloween, I thought maybe you could come over,” you suggested. That part was a given.

Topper looked almost confused that you were asking, “yeah, figured we’d end up hanging out anyway.” He replied.

“Well…” you worried your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, “I was thinking, she won’t be back til the next day…like, at night, and I thought, maybe you’d wanna stay over.”

No. There was a voice in the back of his head, the logical one who knew that crossing the most obvious line, the one where he stayed and you woke up together, was a turning point that he wouldn’t be able to come back from. It was bad enough that he had let this become something that bordered on being a relationship to anyone looking in on it, but letting himself pretend like it was…he wasn’t sure he could come back from that when this all ended.

“Yeah,” he said, quieting the logical side of his brain, “as long as you wear this ‘something else’ for the duration of my stay.” It might be a bad idea but who was he kidding, he was so far gone he’d accidentally referred to you as his girlfriend when he was on the phone with his mom just the day before.

That smile returned to your face, the one that was so sly yet excitable at the same time, the perfect juxtaposition of innocence and deviousness, “Well, I was gonna wear nothing but-“

“Nothing works for me.” Topper replied, using his free hand to hook his fingers through your front belt loop and pulling you toward him so that he could kiss you. Definitely not friends with benefits, but you’d both keep pretending until one of you cracked.

taglist: @heavenlymama @vindictive-hearts @alexa-playafricabytoto @dontjinx-it @randomficsandshit @niamhobrien @strangerthanfanfiction713 @tovvaa @freckled-and-daydreaming @harleylynn @bibliophilewednesday @dpaccione @bolaurel @poguestyleskye @beautyandthebleh @under-a-canyon-moon @outerbankspreferences @vintageobx @starkeymemories @princess-of-fandoms @phantompogues @khiaraaa-in-spacee @ilovejjmaybank

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world-of-socks · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter two!! All chapters are going to be relatively short me thinks. I want to try to actually finish the project for once lol.

Chapter Two: Memories Alone on the Pavement

Yellow looked down the hallway, a small grin found its way to her face.

“Blue, remember this place?” She asked softly.

Blue had been walking by her side, as she often had when Yellow returned from Earth on breaks from fixing the cluster. This time was different though, Yellow had finished the project, and was home for good.

The gem at her side smiled warmly, the memories finally flooding back, “Yes.”

Blue laughed lightly, she had lived too emotionally for her to laugh deeply anymore, there wasn’t enough strength in her soul left for it. Though lately, little by little, a strength was returning.

“We used to prank the Pearls all the time. I think we even got a few generation one peridots as well, dear stars, I had nearly forgotten.”

“I guess that’s what happens when you live through a millennia’s worth of time.” Yellow surmised.

“Must be…”

They stood in silence, lost in memories; in thought. Suddenly one memory caused Yellow to stumble, look back. It stood out.

“Say… that one time we were here, with the stink bomb… I was just about to get my favorite planet.”

“I thought Earth was your favorite.” She smiled.

“It is now, but long, long before all that I had my first favorite.”

Blue turned the words over, searching through years upon years of memories.

“Yes, I believe I remember that.”

“Hmm. We had quite the plethora of adventures on that planet.” Yellow’s hand came up to her chin, as it often did when she was deep in thought.

“I wonder what’s become of it. I’m sure you’d like to see it again, you really loved that place from what I can recall.” Blue stared forward, as if she could almost make out the memories, but they were a little too far away to see.

The general’s hand came down and she began to walk slowly forward again, “I’m sure it’s rotting away like all of the other planets we harvested.” She frowned.

“You don’t know that for sure, dear.” Blue walked with her.

“Hmph.” Yellow sighed, no longer wishing to engage with the thought of her past self any longer.

They walked the rest of the hall in silence, but when they reached the end, where they needed to part to their separate work spaces, they stopped.

Blue turned and collected both of Yellow’s hands in her own, “Perhaps you and I could pay that planet a visit soon.”

Yellow winced, but not with pain. Perhaps it was shame? Dread maybe? She didn’t know.

“Just think on it, Love.” Blue arose to her tip toes and placed a quick kiss on Yellow’s cheek.

“You know I will.” She whispered.

Blue chuckled quietly, “I know.”

And they departed.

………

This was the near hundredth time that the diamond had reorganized her room. It was pointless, because she never stayed in it very often, not anymore. She spent any time she wasn’t spending on Earth in her office or in the gardens with Blue, but nonetheless the work always helped whenever she was feeling particularly stressed or deep in thought.

Large open windows.

“It would be worth a shot.”

Flowy transparent curtains, golden amber, Blue’s architectural touch.

“It won’t be as you remember, and it will only remind you of everything that happened.”

Shelves full of old screens, painful memoirs; beautifully carved.

“Maybe you could fix it?”

Supply shelf, a bottle of each diamond’s essence.

“How horrible could it be?”

Fine.

…….

A cycle or two later, Yellow emerged from her room and ready for her traditional walk in the gardens. It was a simply gorgeous and stunning place, fauna from planets across the galaxy blooming and flourishing under home world’s perfect environment.

“I wonder if there are any from…” she thought, “Maybe in the section near the amber wind rushes…?”

Her usual pace accelerated to where she believed what she was searching for was when she was suddenly startled.

“Ah! Blue!” She pushed her hair, which had been scattered by the surprise, back out of her face, “You- you’re here!”

“I had a feeling you’d visit here first, so I thought I’d simply meet you there.” She smiled knowingly.

“I see.” The golden general smiled her worn smile in return.

Blue stood aside for a moment and let Yellow intersect with the strange plant. It was bright white, with deep golden veins. Each petal curled at random angles, each appearing as though they were dancing.

Yellow reached out, apprehensive, and lightly touched the petals, but when she did tiny bolts of lightning arose from the center and connected with her fingertips. It didn’t hurt like her lightning often did, it felt warm and cleansing. The bolts were each a different color, and when Yellow moved her palm across the bush the plants were alive with light and danced with electricity.

“Here, Blue.” She grinned, and reached for Blue’s hand, “If we do this correctly, if I recall, it’s supposed to…”

Yellow gently took Blue’s hand in hers and they formed a bowl with their fingers. With one of her hands, the gem picked a flower head from the base, peeling back any greenery, and dropped it lightly into their hands. The flower began to spin under the speed of the colorful bolts, then the petals all turned into the center and formed what appeared to be a small being. The figure began to dance and veins sparked and changed colors in the dance. Finally, the figure fell and the flower stopped spinning and wilted.

The general peeled away the dead petals and a seed lay in the center. She took it in her hand and planted it in the bed, and turned back to her companion.

“I can’t believe I still remember that it did that.” She laughed.

“With a show like that how would you forget?”

They sighed, neither of their memories were what they once were. Existing for a milenia of time and experiencing the pain of war and the grief of death and loss really clouded their supposed to be perfect vision of the past.

A moment of silence and then,

“I want to go back, but…”

“You think I’d let you go by yourself?” Blue reached a hand up to Yellow’s face.

“Of course not…” Yellow put her hand on Blue’s.

“We’ll leave in a few cycles… if you’re ready.”

“With you by my side, I’m ready.”

“Then it’s settled.”

………..

#my writing #my fanfiction #fanfiction #yellow diamond #blue diamond #bellow diamond #su au #steven universe au #Steven universe #su #I’m so tired today #chapter two

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thoi2020 · 3 years ago

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u have advanced??????? wow. tips to qualify mains please??? help me with my modules.how do i solve them?????????

hnnng idk bestie here's some short tips n like if u want something more specific u can send another ask or dm me?

pay attention in class. sit in the front. listen out for what things the teacher puts an emphasis on. ask questions. yes, even the stupid ones. especially the stupid ones bc those are fundamentals u cannot miss bc a shaky foundation leads to a shaky building. also pay attention to ur teachers. theyve been doing this since before u even knew about jee they know what theyre doing. most of them want whats best for u, and if not specifically that, whats best for them n their institute which are usually similar things. im not saying blindly trust them without criticism but have some faith. dont dismiss them they prolly know better than u. if id followed my teachers instructions i prolly wouldnt have had to drop (but thats a discussion for another day lol).

revise notes on a regular basis. like. the day u studied it in class. then the next day. then a week later. then 2 weeks later. then a month later. google the curve of forgetting for more accurate time stamps. use flashcards for formulae n stuff that u have to memorise like inorganic chem.

analyse past papers. recognise the most important topics. but also there are some small chapters that are quite easy and some people skip them thinking there wont be any questions from them. ive given 4 papers of mains, and i can confirm that is utter bullshit. 1 question each from units and measurements, mathematical reasoning, stats, chemistry in everyday life, polymers, are guaranteed. u can easily secure at least those marks by spending just a little bit of time on them. esp for jee mains its relatively better to cover a wide range of topics with medium depth instead of just some but with deep understanding (the latter works well for advanced tho).

make a friend or two whos in the same boat as u, preparing for jee n try to keep each other accountable. tell each other everyday what ure going to study that day n then check back the next day. remind each other hlep each other out. also be friendly with the class toppers sometimes they can solve ur doubts better than teachers just bc something they explain clicks better. whenever i get confused about logarithms i think back to what my 9th grade classmate told me when i asked him to explain in 1 sentence n had him repeat it slowly to me multiple times. its burned in my memory and helped me so much.

practice tests. set the proper 3 hour limit and solve them. be honest w urself ure doing this for u. no point scoring 256/300 to impress ur teacher if u cheated bc on the day of the exam ure going to be screwed. in the beginning try out different strategies, different ones work for different ppl. like for me, math is my favourite and i find it easier than the other 2 so i do it first and it gives me confidence. then i move on to physics and then chem. some people look over the entire paper n solve the easiest from every section first, then the medium ones, then the tough ones. experiment in ur practice tests n figure out whats best for u n ur test taking. after the test, analyse. see what u got wrong, why u got it wrong. clarify doubts. mark problem questions to revise and solve again later. no point in solving more n more questions if theres no retention or learning.

for solving books specifically under the cut bc this is getting too long lol:

stick to 1 or 2 books max per subject. make them ur holy books and swear by them. if ure doing coaching then the modules provided by them are a very good option bc theyre specifically for jee and will cover what u need. coaching teachers will have a lot of experience with them too so u'll have an easy time with doubts clarification. if u choose other books tho, still consult with ur teacher and ask them to tell u what's relevant and what isnt and dont waste ur time on whats not. it might make u look or feel smarter to be solving questions on stuff thats beyond the scope of the exam but u literally dont need it and the syllabus is already very vast so ure just going to waste time and brainspace. like sure if ure interested study it in ur own time but dont make it an Important Must Do thing.

ok now that u have ur book with everything relevant to jee, make sure u devour them. study the theory alongside ur class notes. solve a few questions of corresponding topics the day they are covered so u dont have so many questions lined up at the end of the chapter. like if i studied friction in newton's laws of motion today, i'll solve the questions relevant to friction today itself. or u know this week. like,, keep it current. then while solving, speak out loud and explain the problem to urself like ure teaching someone else (or better yet, find someone to teach them to. stuffed toys, younger siblings, ur classmate, grandparents, online friend, whichever works). mark all the questions that took u longer than 5 mins or u cant solve at all. dog ear the pages. try them again the next day. then again a few days later. take the ones u still cant solve to ur teacher. try n ask for just a hint once and try again. and then if u cant then ask for the solution. DO NOT go on the internet. ur brain doesnt have to work for it then n u think u got it but u dont got it. make ur brain work for the solution so it'll remember.

now that uve given a good shot to every question and figured out where u stumble. analyse a bit. find a pattern if theres any: like a certain concept that is weak or something ure not understanding. read the theory for it if u have to n ask questions to clarify. then solve these problem questions again and again until u know every question well enough to be able to explain to someone. skip over the easy ones u dont gotta do them again n again, focus on the ones u stumbled on. theyre the weak spots. no use strengthening whats already strong enough.

and uh keep a notebook of the solutions of the questions u solve so that u dont have to go crazy searching for them in an emergency. like ur paper is tomorrow and u cant figure out this question that uve been trying for 1 hour then its a good time to review ur previous solution and refresh ur memory. often if uve practiced enough n its just exam stress etc thats making ur mind go blank then just a hint will be enough to remind u.

also this is more general but just. be consistent. small consistent efforts over multiple days instead of a big one in 1 day. u’ll retain better and ur brain does better with multiple small chunks spread out over an interval than a lot of stuff in a small one. and its ok to to have an off day dont kill urself over academics ur health is more important always. not getting into ur dream college might fuck u up but itll heal but ur health is more precarious and not getting enough sleep or food will def fuck u up and the consequences are a lot harder to deal with. dont think about the big picture or u’ll freak urself out just think about the next small step u can take. getting 99 percentile feels impossible but solving 10 questions for it does not. dont get disheartened by test results if ure working hard n smart u wont fail. even if u dont get into ur dream college u’ll have an excellent work ethic that’ll take u places u never thought of in ur wildest dreams. more than anything, be kind to urself and work n play hard.

#good luck!!!#sorry for the unpunctuated typing this was long i cba <3 #anonymous #again this is just from my experience plus teachers' advice that i liked and saw worked #tw iit jee #lmk if u wanna know sth else?#hope this helps #long post

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wonderland-in-bloom · 5 years ago

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an unexpected day off

[leona kingscholar x fem!pomefiore!reader]

anon asked: Yay requestss are open! May I request a oneshot where Leonas fem Pomfiore s/o's little sister comes to Night Raven to visit her and meets Cheka who is also visiting Leona and they become friends and all that cute stuff ( bonus Leona and readers reaction )

yes!! cute indeed uwu hi guys how are you all, are you dying over silver and lilia’s cards as much as i am? heheh

le fic under the cut

TODAY was going to be a chill day filled with activies which could be tied to lazing around. well at least that’s what both you and your boyfriend thought. but the both of you were wrong. horribly wrong. that morning leona was woken up by cheka literally jumping on top of him. while on the other hand, you were having a beautiful dream until the door to your room slammed against the wall after it swung open. “(Y/N)-NEEEEEEEEE!!! WAKE UP! I’M SPENDING THE WHOLE DAY WITH YOU TODAY!” in your half awoken state, you were still able to recognize that high pitched voice. it was your younger sister.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you groaned as you buried your head in your pillow. “mom and dad want me here! besides i want to see how miserable you are.” you growled and threw a pillow at her. you two argued and fought so loud that vil came storming into your room with his face still full of cucumbers and a face mask and scolded both you and your younger sister. you really did just want to have one day off without anything crazy or chaotic happening, but hey, when is life ever calm? you sighed as your little sister dragged you around the whole campus. some students gave you glares and in return you gave them back glares which signaled “please help me i beg you”. they legitimately just laughed at you. after all, it was only entertainment for them. in the middle of the way as you trailed behind your sister in the courtyard, she suddenly stopped.

your eyes sparkled when you saw your boyfriend walking towards you from the other end. “leona!!!” you cheered as you rushed over to him. you saw a glint in his eyes as he was happy to see you too. you wrapped your arms around his torso and he placed his hand on your waist. “please help me....” you whispered. “yeah i could say the same.” you both turned around to face the children you were forced to babysit. they both froze as they eyed each other up and down. “oho? what do we have here?” cheka stepped closer to your little sister and eyed her even more intensely. “who are you?” cheka asked.

“i could ask you the same! i didn’t know kids were allowed here.” she shot back. “i’m cheka kingscholar...ojitan...leona’s nephew. and you?” you and leona saw the two bashful kids. “i’m (l/s/n). (y/n)’s litle sister.” it was a little awkward for a while. you were debating with yourself wether to break it up or do something at least. however as you were about to step closer to them, leona grabbed your hand. “wait, (y/n). this might be a really good chance. if the both of them gets along, then they’ll just wander off on their own. less work for us, ya know?” you bit your bottom lip. a negative multiplied by a negative equals a positive. which means that both their chaotic-ness and irresponsibility would cancel each other out and you and leona would have no trouble. you two would have a day filled with relaxing and lazing around just as you both thought. “hmm, you’re right.” you smirked. you and leona chuckled evilly as the two kids started a conversation.

you and leona didn’t even pay attention to them for five seconds and they were already running off to go play somewhere else. leona smirked as you both turned around, planning to head over to his room and just continue your beauty sleep which was cut short. leona slung his arm over your shoulder as you snuggled close against him and started walking to the savanaclaw dorms. however not long after, you heard a surprisingly high pitched yet familiar screaming coming from somewhere not too far from you. you and leona briskly made your way to the source of the scream to see...idia in a tree? “idia...senpai?” his eyes were wide filled with terror and fear. “(Y-Y/N)! L-LEONA! PLEASE HELP ME!” he pleaded. you two looked down to two very familiar figures right below the branch idia was gripping to dear life on. “YOUR HAIR IS SO COOL! WE JUST WANNA PLAY!” your little sister chirped. “PLEASEEE COME DOWN.” cheka joined her.

leona growled and grabbed cheka by the collar. “oi, what are you doing?” cheka pouted. “we were just curious!” he replied. “we just wanted to play with him...it’s not our fault he’s a scaredy cat.” your little sister joined. you smacked the back of her head. “that’s not nice. we’re so sorry idia-senpai. you can go now.” he slowly climbed from the branch and down to the ground and started running off. “heeeh, what a weird guy.” your little sister commented. “well you two were basically invading his boundaries. so.” she rolled her eyes. “sheesh (y/n)-nee, can’t you just let us have a little fun? come on cheka! we have more places to go to!” she giggled and the two kids started running off. remember when you thought that the chaotic-ness would cancel each other out? yeah. wrong. instead it multiplied and now they get into more trouble as a duo than you both thought.

and thus your day off from school was filled with running around, trying to catch the two kids, and apologizing to the other dorm leaders and students. to keep things short and simple, there were a lot of things those two did which disturbed the other students. first, they managed to leave the hedgehogs riddle used in his game of croquet to almost die because of shock and fear. this left riddle in a frenzy and it took the adeuce duo and cater to calm him down while trey urged the two kids to run off. but he didn’t even hesitate giving you and leona a little lecture. second, they sneaked into savanaclaw’s daily magift training sessions and held onto a couple of senior’s brooms. they almost fell a couple of feet from the air and had to be caught by jack and ruggie. ruggie (wholeheartedly) told leona off and when you wanted to catch the two troublemakers, they were already gone. third, they managed to infiltrate the mostro lounge and begged jade and floyd for piggyback rides. it went well at first but let’s just say the lounge didn’t look so good after the whole session ended. azul ended up threatening leona with blackmail and scolded the both of you for doing that to his precious lounge. (of course he threatened to sue leona but he just brushed him off. after all, leona was a rich boy so he didn’t really mind. lol)

fourth, they played hide and seek with kalim in his treasure room. for once, this was the one instance where the dorm leader wasn’t mad or troubled, but rather joined them in the fun. in the end, jamil had to drag kalim by the collar and scold him instead of you and leona. they continued their game without kalim and this time it was hide and seek with you and leona. of course you didn’t find them anywhere in scarabia and concluded that they headed off to pomefiore. rook was in a panic because the peacocks from the gardens escaped and started to cause havoc, making the garden a mess. epel was chasing the two children (as ordered by vil) but they just laughed and thought it was a game of tag. your dorm leader didn’t hesitate to blabber a handful of comments which made your ears ring and he also didn’t hesitate to slap the back of leona’s head. “irresponsible. just like their relatives.” he mentioned, hinting at the fact that like nephew/little sister like uncle/older sister. finally, cheka and your little sister stepped foot into diasomnia but regretted it the instant they stepped in.

they were greeted with sebek and silver who scared them off and made them not even dare to do anything which involves diasomnia. lilia tried to be nice to them and tried to calm the down as best he can (he is a father after all ha ha) but he managed to make them cry. at the end of your tiring and NOT AT ALL peaceful day, you found the two snuggled next to each other under a tree. they were both fast asleep. you and leona sighed in relief. you exchanged glances with each other before collapsing yourselves. “finally~” the storm has passed and you two could finally calm down. you both leaned against the tree and sat down with a ‘thump’. with aching feet and ears just having enough of lectures and rambles, both your eyes felt heavy. you were already drifting off to sleep when you felt leona’s hand position your head to lean against his shoulder. you smiled and that’s when you were engulfed in a deep slumber.

this really wasn’t the day off both leona and you were expecting. but at least you spent the whole day together and managed to work together as a pair to solve the mischief caused by the two children. well....somewhat solved it at least.

BONUS: “AAAWH THEY’RE SO CUTE! THEY’RE LIKE A LITTLE FAMILY!” cater whisper shouted from behind a bush. he took out his phone and readied his camera. you and leona were out cold. snoring and dead asleep as leona leaned against the tree and you leaned against his shoulder. cheka rested his head on leona’s lap whilst your little sister did the same thing to you. the four of you really did look like a cute, little family. “this might be a good time to ambush. don’t you think my beautiful queen?” rook commented as he put aside the binoculars. “hmm...maybe we can make use of cater-kun. those pictures can easily be blackmail. we can get them to do our bidding as long as we have their picture.”

“ah! smart and beautiful! that is our dorm leader, vil schoenheit!”

“that’s what the both of you get for disrupting my day off.”

♡

lol i included a sentence or two related to math (simple math tho lol). wai? i finished like four weeks of math hw in a day haha. yeah well it was stupid for teachers to give us summer hw. like i’m already stressed sm and now they’re just yeeting more stress to me. yeeeets. rant over.

love, a♕

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #30 days of twisted wonderland #30 days of twst #night raven college #savanaclaw #pomefiore #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar oneshots #leona kingscholar imagines #twisted wonderland fanfictoin #twisted wonderland oneshots #twisted wonderland imagines #vil schoenheit #cheka kingscholar #ディズニーツイステッドワンダーランド #ツイステッドワンダーランド

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exeggcute · 5 years ago

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it’s funny (by which I mean irritating) when people refuse to earnestly engage with a piece of art and are then surprised when they later discover that said piece of art has genuine themes and ideas to offer to anyone who hasn’t shrouded themselves in a safe cocoon of detached irony... which, okay, I know I just said “art” like some super-serious thing which means you have full liberty to point and laugh at what I’m about to say next.

but, that being said, I think one of the few relatively consistent strengths of kojima games is that they’re very earnest, even when they’re goofy as hell. and I’m definitely not of the “kojima is a prophet who does no wrong” camp, not by a long shot lol. but if you’re willing to engage with some of his themes without pretense (in the sense of “without mockery,” not “without well-founded criticism”) then there’s a lot of stuff you’re gonna take away from it that you’ll overlook or dismiss if you’re just coming in to crack jokes and nothing else. death stranding is a weird game that sometimes takes itself seriously, sometimes doesn’t, but if you buy into its conceit (i.e. give some of its more goofy shit the benefit of the doubt) then it does have some really touching moments about making connections with other people and building bridges and working together to rebuild the rubble out of catastrophe. and the game’s not even subtle about it, if anything it’s pretty hamfisted at times (in a way that, personally, seems more admirable than refusing to take itself seriously at risk of being Uncool), which is why it’s so surprising to see people who are just now going “damn guys maybe this game had something important to say after all.” like, yeah, it did!! were you not a little bit touched every time you worked together with another player to complete a structure? didn’t you feel yourself getting attached to sam’s bb just a little bit?

and stuff that’s wacky is wacky, no doubt about that, but I feel like it’s the difference between laughing with your friend when they show you a funny part of their short story versus laughing at them behind their back when you describe their short story to someone else. and it’s not a kojima-specific thing either, or even a gaming-specific thing, but it’s definitely a more extreme example of something that is mostly known for being Silly and Hilarious despite having a consistent undercurrent of serious themes about war, imperialism, community, whatever, and not even being subtle about those themes. but when we all get so caught up in making the most aloof commentary (which, to stress again, is very different than pointing out rightful flaws) or making the most clever-yet-detached jokes, you end up closing yourself off to anything meaningful. engaging with stuff this way is like picking apart the carcass til there’s nothing but bones left.

sometimes you gotta be serious and heartfelt in a profoundly uncool way! and it’s hard, yeah, but it’s better for all of us in the long run. you’re never gonna get through to other human beings we’re all too wrapped up in our own armor of ironic defense

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slutsofren · 5 years ago

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I’m begging you to please give us more Kylo & Mistress AU!! Whatever you want to show us, first time ever together (sex)? Or more details on the honeymoon?

I have been thinking a lot about Mistress and CEO Kylo’s first meeting and subsequent affair, I really do love them,,, so much,,, so fucking much,,,, the attitude,,, the power shifts,,,, the playful air that engulfs them,,, ugh swoon,,, Anywho, once I got started on this, I couldn’t stop. This monster is big for a blurb lol

You can read it on AO3 here

** CEO Kylo & Mistress AU: the meet-cute, first date sex, Bazine calls when y’all are fuckin’ and you let her listen, kind of vanilla since this is the first date and all, more in-depth into CEO Kylo’s background. I hope you enjoy this shenanigan as much as I did, Anon!

First Time Meeting and Second Missed Calls

Your phone had buzzed for the second time that night, yet another missed call from the filth of a man you were to be meeting tonight. You gave absolutely no second chances for potential business associates, especially if they’re late to the very first meeting. You rose from your seat nearby the window, asking the server to redirect your bill to the bar as you planned on drinking a couple glasses of wine to soothe your irritation.

Tonight was one of those nights where you bothered to wear heels, something you once learned from a mentor in college about appearing powerful and showing you would never bow to a man in this industry. That you could easily poke an eye out with the length of the heel. It always worked.

It had taken you some time to grow accustomed to loving your body, each and every inch of it was yours and you’d be damned if you let some man make you feel like you were less than because of your gender and curves. You loved yourself and that was that. You’d claw out the eyes of the next man who would belittle your business practices based on your gender, you would always come out on top.

You caved in and ordered whatever sweet dessert wine they offered, something few knew about you was your sweet tooth and how you’d love to sneak a delectable treat in once in a while. You drummed your fingers against the countertop, your other hand began fingering your wine glass. You took these few quiet moments to watch people, trying to silently guess why people were in Momofuku Ko on this particular evening during this very hour. A small game you enjoyed playing to pass the time.

Next to you, a woman stumbled to the bar nearly dropping her martini all over your silver dress but breaking the drink in her hand. A quick glance at her and you knew she was plastered, her loud and obnoxious voice scratching your ears. She looked relatively hopeless as she looked at the shards of glass and dripping liquid from the counter, the mess she made matching the mess her presence had.

You rolled your eyes as you checked your dress and purse quickly, making sure this miserable woman didn’t ruin your items.

“Hey! Can I get another mart-,” she tried to yell at the man behind the counter before a man cut her off, placing his hand on her shoulders from behind her. He shot you an apologetic look and faced the bartender.

“My apologies, sir, would you mind calling a cab for this woman, she seems to be out of her mind,” he stressed the last few words in her ear. The bartender raised a brow and nodded, motioning for some help from a nearby server.

“Hey you,” she threw her comments at you, “why are you dressed like a slut in front of my-” the man pulled her away from you.

She protested, throwing her hands which way and that trying to stop herself from being promptly escorted from the premises by some security. Once she was gone, the mystery man looked at you once more, fixing his tie and suit.

A small smile left your lips as you raised your glass to him, “Wild night?”

He let out a huff, “It would seem to be.” He took long strides and sat on the opposite side of you, avoiding the broken glass and dropped alcohol.

“Your wife,” you pressed on. Curiosity nipping at your heels.

The man let out a grimace, “That obvious?”

This time you let that smile you’d be holding in appear across your plush lips. “My apologies, Mister-?”

“Ren, Kylo Ren. May I buy you another glass of wine for the inconvenience of having to see that woman’s unpleasant side, Miss?”

You paused a moment pretending to think, even taking the extra long couple seconds to suck in your bottom lip and bite it oh, so gently. “You may.” You reached your hand to his, introducing yourself to him. That meeting that brought you here was far away from your mind now that your phone hadn’t rang for what seemed like hours, maybe that fool got a clear picture that you did not offer second chances.

Before long, you two had moved to a quiet section of the restaurant. You both talked and drank the wine you prefered. Kylo said it was a new adventure since he mostly kept to whiskey but you could tell he was charmed by you and you with him.

Slowly yet surely, you found yourselves inching closer and closer to each other over the course of your conversation, his warm arm pressed around your shoulders as you both talked from everything from business pet peeves, to stock prices, and fashion.

You looked into his eyes and for the briefest moment, you felt guilty. This was a married man, you clearly saw his wife earlier. Kylo held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, looking straight into your eyes and you felt as if he was looking into your soul as well.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he whispered your name.

“You’re married.”

“I am.”

“Then why-”

He leaned back in his seat and tore his eyes from you. He looked at the plate of food in front of him, to your hand that was still on his knee, then to the wall ahead of him. “We didn’t marry for love, if that’s what you’re wondering. I am a terrible man, I’ve burned people, I’ve caused deaths of some, I’m fire and brimstone to others. One thing I am not, is a liar.”

He took a pause, letting you absorb his words. “Bazine is my wife but it’s more of a title than an actual relationship. She owned a wonderful portion of a business I wanted to acquire and merge with my own and the condition for me to take full ownership was to be married to that dreadful woman for five years. Afterwards, I could divorce her and leave it all behind and do whatever I wanted with that company. At the time,” he finally admits, “it didn’t seem like I was sacrificing much, instead I would be gaining that much of a stronger footing over those who kept me down for so many years.”

“Delayed gratification,” you prompted.

He let out a chuckle, “Yeah, something like that. That was almost three years ago. Three years of dealing with Bazine- her drunkenness and mishandling of the company. It’s been a long three years and will be an even longer two more.”

Kylo looked at you once more and grabbed your hand, raising it to his lips giving your cold fingers a warm kiss, “Come, let me take you to your hotel.” You conceded and followed him. After all he expressed about the complications of his arranged marriage, you felt for this man. In all his struggles he just looked worn and tired and you could tell he hid it well.

You both shuffled into the cab after Kylo insisted to settle your bill with his, his warm wool coat was draped over your shoulders, covering the sparkling silver satin your dress shone like tiny starlights.

The fifteen minute or so taxi drive from Momofuku to where you stayed at the WestHouse Hotel was cozy. Kylo didn’t press on your thoughts and you admired the comfortable silence that came with being in his presence. You let yourself lean on his body, trying to absorb some of his warmth that he radiated since you met him.

Upon your arrival to the hotel, Kylo once again insisted on paying for the taxi as he did at the restaurant, “Spending this evening with you was the first time in years where I wasn’t expected to be a certain person or act in a particular manner. Being with you tonight was truly a breath of fresh air.”

Kylo fiddled with a small piece of your hair, lacing it around his fingers before letting it go. The artificial lights from the hotel illuminated his face, much more than the intimate lighting at the restaurant did. Now you took notice of each and every freckle that littered his sharp features and his eyes, how they bore into yours. Anticipating.

“Bazine,” you left your unspoken question lingering in the air between you both.

“She has had her fair share of affairs during our,” he struggles to find the right word, “situation.” You were surprised at his confession, afterall you were fairly certain she attempted to call you a slut for making eye contact with Kylo just before the two of you properly met.

“As I said before, I am many things but a liar I am not.”

Kylo cupped your face and his eye contact never faltered from your gaze. “I will never force you to do anything,” he licked his lips, “uncouth.”

Fuck it.

You grabbed his hand and led him inside WestHouse, interlacing your fingers with his. Behind you, you could hear Kylo give a low chuckle, admiring you from behind as his coat engulfed you. It didn’t matter if you were tall or short, larger or smaller in size, this man made everybody look small in comparison, not to mention how obscenely wide his chest was. He was too damn sexy for his own good and you were daring to drink from that chalice of forbidden wine at any moment now.

In the elevator, you admired how your interlocked fingers appeared together so naturally, how his large hand encompassed yours. Your white glitter painted fingernails seemed to radiate what you were feeling within you, a rush of passion and fervor. If this were to be a one night stand, so be it. It would be a night you wouldn’t forget for a lifetime.

Once the two of you walked past the threshold to your hotel room, Kylo pinned you, throwing your purse to the side. Your back against the plain door shutting it in its place, locking you two away from the outside world. His large hands cupped your face as he did moments before down below at the entrance but this time, this time he kissed you as deeply as he could. You granted his tongue access as your kisses grew heated. Wanting nothing between you if you possibly could.

Kylo dropped his hands from your face to his coat, slipping it from your shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. You took this moment to reach for his belt, slipping it from the loops of his pants, your mouth practically watering at the sound of the leather and metal falling to the floor.

He took your hand in his and led you deeper into the room, watching you like prey as you sauntered and gracefully stepped out of your d’orsay heels without having to touch them. Kylo moved your hair to the side as he began to pull on the zipper that kept you in the confines of the tight dress you wore for the evening, the sounds of the zipper being forced open on your back filled the room and you began to unbutton his shirt, the jacket he wore was thrown about somewhere else. Wherever it landed didn’t matter, only that you both got what you came for.

Each button stripped away revealing the broad chest you envisioned he had, your fingers expertly undid them as if you had been doing this dance with him since the beginning of time.

You both did not make a further move to kiss, only to gaze into each others’ eyes, as if you were engraving this moment in your minds forever. With his shirt unbuttoned and your dress just daring to fall, he raised an eyebrow at you and you let out a laugh before practically jumping into his arms. He kissed you, and kissed you, and kissed you more, trailing each one further down as he stripped the gown from your body.

Kylo was completely enthralled by you, enchanted by your confidence and ability to not shy away from the reality of who he was, a man who dominated every aspect of his life. He showed it, he showed you and promised himself to show you just how wild you make his heart beat if you’d allow him the pleasure, just as he bound himself to give you an insurmountable level of new highs tonight.

Reaching the top of the panties you donned for the evening, Kylo paused and looked up at you, “Is this okay?”

You placed one of your hands in his hair, feeling the strands tangle around your fingers as if trapping you and never letting go. “Yes, Kylo.” He leaned forward, laying his forehead at your stomach as if silently praying, thanking whatever it was out there that led you to him. Fate intervening.

A part of him wanted to hurry and bury himself deep in you but his skin screamed to stop and take it slow, to let these moments last and treasure your body- admiring each and every curve and dip. He inched your panties lower and lower until they fell and he took this moment to kiss that beautiful spot where your thighs met your sweet spot. After a few moments of soft languid kisses Kylo lifted your leg to straddle his shoulders as he began to kiss, bite, and suck at you.

You tried to keep your composure for just a little while longer, you really did try but once he began his magic, you fervently began to release breathy moans which only encouraged him on. His large hands grasped your ass, your thighs, anywhere those long fingers could grab. His tongue worked between your folds and it threw you overboard into cascading waves of pleasure.

Two orgasms later, Kylo released you from his hold, letting you stand on your own. As he rose, he kissed his way back up to your lips and you tasted yourself on his tongue. You began to strip his clothes off him, as he did for you. Down to his boxers you led him to the bed and laid yourself down gently, a modest queen size bed for a queen afterall.

You hesitated for just a moment and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this, Kylo?”

Hearing his name drip like golden ichor from your plush lips was a true taste of ambrosia that made his mind spin. Not once has anybody spoken his name as you have, it was always spoken laced in fear, anxiety, or greed but you, you spoke his name with adoration. You looked at him from the bed, turned to face him, anxiously waiting for his reply.

Kylo kneeled on the bed, hovering over you, encasing your body under his as he laid another chaste kiss to your lips, “More than anything.”

You raised your knees and opened yourself up to him. Mind, body, soul. Everything. Your fingers brushed past the elastic in his waistband and pulled the cloth down to reveal his large cock at your core. Grasping his hardened length he let out a breathy gasp and you could see between you both how red his cock was, desperately begging for attention.

“Fuck me,” you whined as you stroked him, “Please Kylo, I want you.”

“I want you too,” he said as he began to thrust into your hand, enjoying how your fingers felt around him. You lifted your feet to rest on his hips as you led his length to your core. He began to kiss all around your face as you let him sink into you, splitting you wide open.

He let out a quiet, “Oh fuck,” as he reached his hilt, burying himself so far into you. His large fingers came up and got tangled in your hair as he began slow ministrations of pulling almost all the way out before thrusting deep into you and beginning that cycle of pure toture and pleasure in one.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered against your neck, eyeing your expressions how your face controrts with each thrust he makes.

“Don’t stop, Kylo, please, don’t stop,” you cried. Your heart opened at his words but you forced those feelings away, unsure of what his intentions are.

Kylo sat up and kneeled once again, taking this moment to watch as his cock disappeared in your pussy. Watching how when he pulls back, his cock is glistening with physical evidence of your arousal. He became mesmerised at how your tits bounced and your face lit up with the same waves of absolute pleasure he felt. He didn’t want any of this to stop.

From the foot of the bed, a phone began to ring and Kylo let out a groan. He ignored it and continued his slow thrusts, fucking you nice and deeply. His phone stopped ringing for the briefest moment then rang again. “Fuck,” he growled. He wasn’t going to stop, no way was he going to stop one of the nicest nights of his life. The phone stopped and resumed ringing one more time, whatever it was seemed to be urgent.

He eyed you and you nodded your head, letting him leave you to get it. “Are you fucking kidding me,” he groaned.

“What is it, Kylo?”

“Bazine.”

Without giving it a second thought, you demanded, “Answer it.”

He turned and cocked his face into a smirk and placed the phone against his ear, “What do you want, Bazine.” He stepped forward back to the bed, you could now begin to hear her slurred whines and cries on the line, screaming at him.”

You reached for his phone and put it on speaker, tossing it to the side of you as you guided Kylo back to where you were before she interrupted.

“Where are you Kylo, how could you embarrass me like that,” Bazine cried.

“You embarrassed yourself, as for where I am, well,” he kissed you. “I’m currently inside one of the most beautiful women I have ever met in my life, fucking her nice pussy,” he groaned as you tightened around him at his compliment, “and wanting you to fuck off so we can keep going.”

Bazine let out a harsh gasp, appalled at what he was saying, “You- you’re lying.”

“Say hello,” he motioned to you.

After a moment, you cleared your voice, “I would greatly appreciate it if you’d leave Kylo alone for the night, he is a bit busy fucking me.”

“Stop fucking lying,” she yelled.

Kylo brushed his hair back as she penetrated you, “Fine, if you don’t want to believe it then listen to us fuck and deal with it. Leave me alone, Bazine.”

He began to fuck you once more, letting loose all the lewd noises your pussy could make from how sweetly he rocked into you, deeply caressing each part of you.

You arched your back and he bent down to take one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked bruises on the skin there. Wanting to leave a small part of him on you just as you left scratches on his back. Wonderful scars for a wonderful woman, he thought.

“Oh, Kylo, just like that, don’t stop,” you cried, Bazine already leaving your mind. Kylo reached over to hang up the phone and he threw it against the wall, not giving a shit if it broke. Right now all that mattered was you.

You reached up for him and placed a gentle hand at the base of his skull, pulling him to the side so you could be on top, not once disconnecting your bodies. Kylo gripped your ass as you began to bounce on his large cock, throwing your head back. “Fuck- Kylo!”

He tried, just as you did, to keep his composure but you felt far too good around him and he began to let out just as many moans.

He moaned your name and gripped your ass so hard you hoped there would be bruises there to keep as a temporary memory of this affair. Your neck was exposed to him and he reached a hand up to caress the skin there, sending shivers upon shivers down your spine. “You’re doing such a good job, bouncing like that on my cock,” he praised, “You look so beautiful.”

“Come here, little one,” he reached around you to hold you close to him as he laid you down on the bed. Not once letting you take a moment to think about that little nickname.

Kylo hoovered over you as you began to cry, he had you feeling so good that you couldn’t stop the hot tears that welled in your eyes, “Please, Kylo, go faster, I’m so close!” He took that command and did as you told him, pumping his cock so fast and so hard into you, it was earth shattering. Kylo reached his long slender fingers and began to violate your clit, aiding your desire.

Your back arched as you came around his cock, feeling overstimulated and well-fucked but he still kept going, chasing his own orgasm. Finally, he let out a deep guttural moan as he came inside of you as a sigh left your lips. Your pussy fluttered aftershocks around him, milking him. Kylo kissed you deeply once again, wanting to etch this memory deep into his mind, trying to remember the taste of wine on your lips. When he pulled away he brushed a piece of your hair away from your eyes and your gaze met his. You lifted one of your hands to brush his clean shaven face with the back of your hand. “I don’t want you to leave,” you admitted.

Kylo pulled out, and stepped off the bed. For a moment your heart broke into tiny pieces believing he was going to leave until he pulled the white duvet covers down and motioned you to slip underneath them. He returned to you, covering both your bodies while he reached his fingers down between your folds, pushing the evidence of both your orgasms back inside of you. He kissed your forehead and entwined your limbs together under the warm sheets, “Neither do I.”

#posted on ao3 #ceo kylo x mistress au #requests are open #kylo ren reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x oc #kylo ren/reader #star wars reader insert #star wars smut #kylo ren smut #kylo ren fanfiction #modern kylo #modern kylo reader insert #anon ask #asher talks #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren/you #asher’s writing

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svtxsoju · 4 years ago

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00. prologue | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is! ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Pairings TBA! ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, mentions of sex, language, bad jokes ღ Word Count: 2.6k words ღ Binu’s Note: hi to anyone who is reading this!!! i’m super excited (and kinda nervous :0) to post this bc i’ve been working on this project for a while now. aaaa i hope there are at least some people who can enjoy it! this is a relatively short-ish chapter but it’s p dense with exposition lol but anyway if ur reading this, thank you i love you!!!

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ Navigation ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Introducing The Front ’s New Romance Advice Columnist: Miss Soju!

We all have an ideal: an ideal type, an ideal first date, an ideal relationship. The problem is love isn’t ideal at all. And sooner or later, we find ourselves sitting on that plastic chair in that tent on the side of the road with an ache in our chest. You’re hurt, confused, and kind of going crazy-- all the tell-tale symptoms of heartbreak are there. And the only cure? Soju, of course!

Finding a decent partner and maintaining a healthy, sustainable relationship is difficult enough as it is. Then layer it with the culture shock of university, where you’re experiencing actual adulthood for the first time without mommy and daddy to hold your hand. It’s enough to make anyone lose their minds! Sure, you could always turn to your friends for support and advice, but in all honesty, they’re even more of a mess than you are.

That’s why Mansae University’s affiliate newspaper, The Front, will be reviving our romance advice column this fall! Each week, Miss Soju will be answering all your burning questions, and that means all of them. Her expertise touches on topics as simple as explaining to that one guy that your love is fated because you passed each other at Yuhaeng Quad, like three times, and extends to more extreme situations that require an anonymous veil, like how to confess to your new boyfriend with the furry fetish that you’ve been severely allergic to animals since you were three and you have no idea how any animals act, let alone… Yikes.

It’s true, college is full of new and bizarre experiences, some we must go through and some we’d much rather avoid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet the love of your life here. But it’s okay to admit that you need a little guidance through the mystical and confusing world of college dating. Miss Soju has got your back, and she’s not afraid to hit you with that real shit. As she always says, good advice is like taking a shot: sweet on the lips but burns your throat as you swallow it down.

Monday, June 3rd, 2019 3:07PM

“Jihoon, I don’t know if I can do this.”

Name: So Joohyun. Major: Journalism major with a minor in communications. Estimated graduation year: 2021. Desired position: World News Journalism Intern. That was what she had put on her application for The Front’s junior internship program. She had made sure to attach her published articles and to emphasize her interest in-- no, her passion for-- reporting compelling stories on an international scale. Not once in her application did she indicate that she was an expert in love or sex, let alone qualified to give others advice on the subjects! In fact, she was probably the least qualified person on campus for this position, which was probably the most perplexing aspect of the whole situation.

But despite all of that, there she was, sitting in Yuhaeng Quad with her best friend, reading the promo piece she had written for Miss Soju. Jihoon had been ecstatic when he had thought of the nickname back in high school. She had snuck bottles of the alcohol over to his house one night after finals week, and he had drunkenly claimed that the name was doubly clever since So-ju were also the first two syllables in her name. When the newspaper had told her she needed an anonymous pen name, it was the only thing she could think of, mostly because creating a secret identity had made her in desperate need of a drink. She changed her mind. Having a secret identity was equally as perplexing as pretending to know how to spice up people’s sex lives. It was like she was some kind of Love Spiderman. She was not ready for that kind of great power or the great responsibility that came with it!

“‘I don’t know if I can do this’?” Jihoon repeated her words slowly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words in that order. Can I take your picture? I need to commemorate this moment.”

“Can’t you see that I am having a crisis?” she whined. “The integrity of my career is on the line because I’ve never bothered to go on a date!”

“When are you not having a crisis?” Jihoon laughed. He sat up from lying down on their picnic tarp to give her full view of his smug grin. Originally, he had dragged Joohyun outside in hopes that the perfect summer weather would help relieve some of her stress from the past week. He even found her favorite spot under the shade of an ancient tree that overlooked the stretch of green field. But Jihoon could not call himself a proper best friend if he passed on an opportunity to rub all of this in her face. “This is what you get for chickening out on all our group blind dates! I could have scored that hot bassist girl with the thigh tattoo, but nooo, you always had to put your career first.”

“Sue me for having priorities!” she huffed. Leave it to Jihoon to chalk this all up to karma. Now that he mentioned it though, she couldn’t help but feel like a higher power was taking a piss on her life. Or maybe it was just the shit-eating smile on Jihoon’s face that had her on edge. Joohyun tried to avert her focus to a couple of boys tossing a frisbee around instead, but somehow that irked her too. The idyllic weather, the carefree students, everything that was pleasant seemed to mock her sour mood. She pouted at the ground in defeat, and continued, “You are the first person to know that if I was told that dating and fucking around were going to be crucial to my journey to becoming South Korea’s top journalist by the time I turn 25, I would have become a hoe long ago.”

“Woah, are you gonna start your thot phase for this? Are we gonna have a hot girl summer?” The boy began to bounce excitedly. Joohyun felt it was high time to give him the finger, but she also felt a small smile tugging at her frown. “Easier said than done, though. Remember Jessi from high school?”

“Yeah I remember,” she said with a sigh. High school romance had lured so many of her friends into its clutches, with its enticing promises of sweet chocolates and stuffed animals, and she had helplessly watched from the top of the class as they forsook their grades for boys who didn’t even know what deodorant was. She only shuddered to think of the state of their grades after a nasty break up. It was then that Joohyun had decided that her future was not worth risking over a boy’s attention. “Which is exactly why I never got involved in all that mess in the first place.”

“This must be the gods telling you that it’s time to.”

“What kind of fucked up god sets up a virgin as a love advice columnist?” she asked the sky loudly. If she had known there was anyone listening, she would have insisted that her question was rhetorical and was not in need of any type of response! However, the gods cared not for grammar technicalities on the mortal plane. They just couldn’t resist the chance to respond to someone so openly questioning their decisions with some good ol’ spite. Honestly, with the way things were going for her lately, Joohyun probably should have expected the frisbee flying merrily towards her face, even if she hadn’t just challenge the universe.

“Oh fuck!” Joohyun jerked out of the way and felt the frisbee thunk against her shoulder instead. “Ow.” At this point, she didn’t even have the capacity to be annoyed; she just braced herself for whatever misfortune life threw at her next.

“Sorry about that!” A boy called out, jogging up to them. As he came into clearer view, she noted that he looked far from misfortunate, and also had to remind herself that staring was rude even if someone was unnaturally handsome. His features were soft yet striking, like he had been carefully sculpted from cotton candy. Or maybe a fluffy rain cloud? Joohyun shook her head a little as if that would get her to stop staring so shamelessly. She speculated whether it was the sun that made it look like his blond hair was a glowing halo. Okay seriously, stop staring! He gave Joohyun a sweet smile when he reached them. “My friend got a bit distracted. Now that I’m here, I can’t say that I blame him. Hope we didn’t do too much damage!”

“Uh,” was her captivating reply.

Jihoon, never one to miss such a ripe opportunity, piped up beside her. “She’ll be fine. This is Joohyun, by the way.”

His smile widened at Woozi’s introduction, and Joohyun could swear there was an actual twinkle in his eyes. “Nice to meet you both. I’m--”

“Yoon Jeonghan!” They all looked towards the call. The ethereal boy let out a startlingly loud cackle at the sight of his friend, who gave the two strangers a sheepish wave before continuing to gesture for Jeonghan to return. Joohyun must have been put in a staring mood, because she didn’t miss how his friend’s big ears were a shade of pink and how they bloomed into a cherry red when they briefly made eye contact. She caught herself wondering if all the boys at Mansae University were always this cute.

“I guess I better go,” the boy named Jeonghan shrugged. Joohyun felt his fingers brush against hers when he took the frisbee from her hand, his eyes glinting mischievously. Now she was sure she was seeing things. “See you two around!”

They both watched him retreat in an awestruck silence. That was certainly… unanticipated. Even long after Jeonghan and his friend were out of sight, the brief encounter left a blanket of fogginess lingering over them. Had she not felt his fingers on hers, Joohyun would have easily believed that it had all been in her head. At the same time, she was pretty sure that she wasn’t bold enough to conjure up someone that looked like that on her own. As she continued to fathom how a human being could glow, Joohyun felt the fog dissipate into the warm summer air. She felt like she was waking up from a disorienting dream, and she blinked to hasten the process. To her growing bewilderment, she found that her heartbeat was steady as she came back to her senses, her mind seemingly devoid of the panic and doubt that had plagued her all week. It was a gasp of fresh air.

Jihoon, on the other hand, had long broken free from the strong impression that the blond boy made. He noted the dazed look on his best friend’s face and rolled his eyes. Who knew that a pretty boy was all it took to make her shut up a bit? He nudged Joohyun impatiently, so that she could pay attention to him while he roasted her for totally flubbing her chances. “You thinking of risking it all for that guy?”

In an instant, Joohyun slammed herself back into reality just to shove Jihoon away from her. “That is so not happening,” she said a little too indignantly. Before Jihoon could reassure her that the guy seemed interested enough even though she had only said a single syllable to him, Joohyun suddenly turned to him very seriously. “Do you really think I can do it, Jihoon?”

“What, bang that guy? I can try calling him back here if you want,” he snickered.

“You know what I mean!”

“Okay sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Jihoon replied, his grin now melting into a familiar smile, the one that could put her at ease on her lowest days. “I just don’t know why you have to ask. You and I both know that you kick ass at writing. You’ve written about stuff like natural disasters and the student protests, no problem at all. It’s not like you have a PhD in environmental science or politics. How is this any different? ”

Joohyun scrunched her face as if Jihoon had just suggested that chocolate milk came from brown cows. “Dude, they’re completely different. Those articles were reporting on facts. I did research, I conducted interviews!”

“That’s what I’m saying, Joo!” Jihoon exclaimed suddenly. As smart as she was, he couldn’t help getting a little giddy whenever he thought of a good idea before her. “Why not treat Miss Soju like any other of your other projects? I mean, love is probably one of the most well-documented experiences throughout history, and people are still going through all the same shit. There’s probably thousands of resources for a man simping on a hot chick alone. You can even take your pick, like movies, songs, books, weird couples on Youtube?You don’t need to have experience, because you can just do the research! ”

“Research?” Joohyun repeated. If there was one thing that she was good at, it was doing the work. From the moment she had decided to become a journalist, everything she had done was a strategic move to get her closer to her end goal. She had spent sleepless nights perfecting the details of her writing, countless hours reading through endless archives of old articles. Hell, she even restricted herself from dating for years just so she could focus on keep her grades up. It was almost too easy of a solution. Maybe she was meant to do this after all.

Another couple of months of research would simply be another hurdle on her way to the finish line and she was getting closer and closer. Finally, she felt a smile spread across her cheeks, a real, genuine smile. “I… I can do that.”

“Now that,” Jihoon said as he took her hand in his, pulling her up to her feet, “sounds like So Joohyun. Or should I say Miss Soju?”

She laughed as she dusted the grass off of her butt. “You know, it’s probably not a good idea to include the first part of my name in my anonymous persona. It makes it so obvious that it’s me.”

“Yeah, I mean it would be obvious if people actually knew who you were in the first place,” Jihoon scoffed, narrowly dodging a kick from her. “That’s a good thing for you! Anyway, let’s get out of here, I have a couple of tweaks to make to my song before releasing it tonight. Could you listen to it by the way? I need to know if it’s too cheesy.”

“Oh, the song you’re writing about your mystery muse?” Joohyun hummed playfully while packing up their blanket. She followed after her best friend as he began the short climb uphill. “I don’t know if I want to, you’ve been pretty out of pocket today.”

“Hey!” he said defensively. “First: I don’t need a muse for my songs, I just have a very vivid imagination and my talent does the rest. Second: I literally just stopped you from giving up on your lifelong dream of becoming a journalist, so I think you owe me one. You’re just jealous I can write love songs without having an existential crisis.”

“See, that is what I mean by out of pocket,” she paused for a beat. “I may be willing to listen to your song. For a small price, of course.”

“Okay, deal,” he agreed without hesitation, missing the way Joohyun deviously smirked beside him. They reached the concrete pavement at top of the hill and headed in the direction of his nearby apartment. “What is it this time, Ms. So?”

“Well Mr. Lee, thanks to your lovely suggestion earlier, I have been inspired to begin work immediately. So we shall be watching Twilight on movie night,” she said all too gleefully, mostly for satisfaction that Jihoon’s twisted face of disgust gave her.

“Do we have to?” he groaned.

“It’s for my research!”

#seventeen #seventeen scenario #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #pour.up #dj.woozi #mu.eros #soju.queen

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writing-prompts-for-friends · 5 years ago

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Notes on Robert McKee’s “Story” 23: Tearing Down Act Design

☝ Maybe this post will make you throw out the storytelling map your English teacher gave you.

Every single person who has taken a literature class has seen a diagram along these lines at some point. This is the one-track path that all “Good Stories” must take:

But do all “Good Stories” really have to follow this trajectory? And where exactly do subplots fit in on this? In this post, I share Robert McKee’s answers to these questions.

How Many Acts?

First, what even is an act? Let’s make sure we have a clear understanding.

“As a symphony unfolds in three, four, or more movements, so story is told in movements called acts--the macro-structure of story.

Beats, changing patterns of human behavior, build scenes. Ideally, every scene becomes a Turning Point in which the values at state swing from the positive to the negative or the negative to the positive, creating significant but minor change in their lives.

A series of scenes build a sequence that culminates in a scene that has a moderate impact on the characters, turning or changing values for better or worse to a greater degree than any scene.

A series of sequences build an act that climaxes in a scene that creates a major reversal in the characters’ lives, greater than any sequence accomplished.”

Okay. So how many should acts should we have? Most famous works we’re familiar with have three acts, as illustrated in our picture above. But is that the golden rule?

According to McKee and Aristotle, no, three acts is not the golden rule. A good story can have just one act--we may see this in a one-shot fanfiction or a short story.

A story can have two acts as well, most commonly seen in sitcoms, novellas, or hour-length plays.

However, when a work reaches a certain length, such as a feature film, an hour-long TV episode, a full-length play, or a novel, three acts are the minimum.

Why is this? Who decided that three is the magic number?

“As audience we embrace the story artist and say: ‘I’d like a poetic experience in breadth and depth to the limits of life. But I’m a reasonable person. If I give you only a few minutes to read or witness your work, it would be unfair of me to demand you to take me to the limit. Instead I’d like a moment of pleasure, an insight or two, no more than that. But if I give you important hours of my life, I expect you to be an artist of power who can reach the boundaries of experience.’

In our effort to satisfy the audience’s need, to tell stories that touch the innermost and outermost sources of life, two major reversals are not enough. No matter the setting or scope of the telling, no matter how international and epic or intimate and interior, three major reversals are the necessary minimum for a full-length work of narrative art to reach the end of the line.

Consider these rhythms: Things were bad, then they were good--end of story. Or things were good, then they were bad--end of story. Or things were bad, then they were very bad--end of story. Or things were good, then they were very good--end of story. In all four cases we feel something’s lacking. We know that the second event, whether positively or negatively charged, is neither the end nor the limit. Even if the second event kills the cast: Things were good (or bad), then everyone died--end of story--it’s not enough. “Okay, they’re all dead. Now what?” we’re wondering. The third turn is missing and we know we haven’t touch the limit until at least one more major reversal occurs. Therefore, the three-act story rhythm was the foundation of story art for centuries before Aristotle noticed it.”

Act Length

(For the sake of explanation, let’s stick with the Three Act pattern.)

Take a look at that diagram that you were probably forced to memorize in lit class again.

Here, we see that all three acts are equal in length.However, McKee provides a different distribution. He stresses that his diagrams are foundations and not formulae, and while his are specifically for the film medium, he believes that they are applicable to the play and novel as well.

For now, let’s just look at the Central Plot timeline and disregard subplots. In his foundation, he has broken a 118 minute, three act film into the following pieces:

Act 1: 30 mins (25% of film)

Act 2: 70 mins (60% of film)

Act 3: 18 mins (15% of film)

Notice in particular how short the last act is compared to the others. McKee states, “In the ideal last act we want to give the audience a sense of acceleration, a swiftly rising action to Climax.” If we draw out the last act too much, we run the risk of slowing pace and taking away from the momentum we have built up.

Now let’s take a look at Act 2. It’s a whopping 60% of the film. That feels like a lot to me. McKee echoes something that Stephen King wrote in his book On Writing, that it is the second act where things can get claggy and boring. So how can we keep from getting stuck in the swamp that is Act 2?

Add subplots or more acts.

Subplots are such an important topic that they necessitate their own post, so for now let’s just discuss when we would add more acts.

How Many Acts?

“Not every film needs or wants a subplot: THE FUGITIVE. How then does the writer solve the problem of the long second act? By creating more acts. The three-act design is the minimum. If the writer builds progressions to a major reversal at the halfway point, he breaks the story into four movements with no act more than thirty or forty minutes long.

A film could have a Shakespearean rhythm of five acts: FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL. Or more. RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK is in seven acts; THE COOK, THE THIEF, HIS WIFE & HER LOVER in eight. These films turn a major reversal every fifteen or twenty minutes, decisively solving the long second act problem. But the five- to eight-act design is the exception, for the cure of problem is the cause of others.”

So maybe you have a thriller you want to write, and you’re sick of there being a stupid romance in every single story that comes out these days (Oops, are my own opinions bleeding into this? lol), so you want to write just a straight up thriller, with NOTHING else going on but the central plot. Cool!

In order to avoid the slowdown in Act 2, you may want to consider adding another act, thereby shrinking the length of Act 2, giving you another chance for another exciting twist.

However, beware because adding acts can cause some of the following problems in your story:

The multiplication of act climaxes invites cliches.

For each act there must be a climax. And each climax must be progressively greater than the last. It is difficult enough to think of the three climaxes we need for a regular three-act story. You’ll be dipping down deep into that well of creativity.

The multiplication of acts reduces the impact of climaxes and results in repetitiousness.

“Even if you have a limitless well of creativity, turning act climaxes on scenes of life and death, life an death, life and death, life and death, life and death, seven or eight times over, boredom sets in. Before too long the audience is yawning: “That’s not a major turn. That’s his day. Every fifteen minutes somebody tries to kill this guy.”

What is major is relative to what is moderate and minor. If every scene screams to be heard, we go deaf.

This is why a three-act Central Plot with subplots has become a kind of standard. It fits the creative powers of most writers, provides complexity, and avoids repetition.”

So feel free to have more acts, but in moderation. Next, let’s take a look at some non-standard act patterns you may want to use.

False Endings

What’s a false ending? You’ve seen it a thousand times over. It’s a scene so seemingly complete that we think for a moment the story is over. E.T. is dead--it’s the end of the movie. In ALIEN, Ripley blows up the spaceship and escapes, we think. The original TERMINATOR movie has a double False Ending.

McKee issues this caution regarding them:

“For most films, however, the False Ending is inappropriate. Instead, the Penultimate Act Climax should intensify the Major Dramatic Question: “Now what’s going to happen?”

Act Rhythm

Here, McKee points out the importance of alternating between value-charges. (For a refresher on value-charges, please see this post on the values in your theme, and this post on maintaining balance between the opposite values.)

“Repetitiousness is the enemy of rhythm. The dynamics of story depend on the alternation of its value-charges. For example, the two most powerful scenes in a story are the last two act climaxes. Onscreen they’re often only ten or fifteen minutes apart. Therefore, they cannot repeat the same charge. If the protagonist achieves his Object of Desire, making the last act’s Story Climax positive, then the Penultimate Act Climax must be negative. You cannot set up an up-ending with an up-ending. ‘Things were wonderful...then they got even better!’ Conversely, you cannot set up a down-ending with a down-ending. When emotional experience repeats, the power of the second event is cut in half. And if the power of the Story Climax is halved, the power of the film is halved.

On the other hand, a story may climax in irony, an ending that’s both positive and negative. What then must be the emotional charge of the Penultimate Climax? The answer’s found in close study of the Story Climax, for although irony is somewhat positive, somewhat negative, it should never be balanced. If it is, the positive and negative values cancel each other out and the story ends in a bland neutrality.

For example, Othello finally achieves his desire: a wife who loves him and has never betrayed him with another man--positive. However, when he discovers this, it’s too late because he’s just murdered her--an overall negative irony.”

☝This gave me a lot of thought. I tend to write for myself, and I like to have up-endings with all loose ends tidied up. Looking back at everything, I have set up up-endings with up-endings in many of my stories, and I can see now why even to me the finale feels lacklustre.

Source: McKee, Robert. Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting. York: Methuen, 1998. Print

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years ago

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970.

Let’s start off on a high note, who was the last person to make you smile? >> King Crimson.

How many people have you had real strong feelings for since school started this year? >> ---

you’re getting ready to go to bed and the last person that you kissed shows up, what do you say? >> I mean, that’s normal.

I say boys, you say? >> I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that.

Are you dating the last person that you text messaged? >> I’m married to the last person I text-messaged.

Do you think that it’s cute when someone kisses your forehead? >> I don’t want anyone outworld to do it because for some reason I associate it with being patronised or something. I don’t know how to process affection correctly, remember? But Inworld it’s nice.

If someone asked you what you wanted, what would you say? >> I’d need more context than this.

What does the last text in your inbox say? >> Sparrow was telling me that she had to take her mother’s car back to her after work.

What do you think the last person that you kissed is doing right now? >> Just hangin’ out.

Do you think that someone has feelings for you? >> It’s possible.

Do you still talk to the person that you last kissed? >> Of course, it was only like an hour ago lmao.

Will you be in a relationship one month from now? >> I assume so.

Was your last text message from a girl or boy? >> A woman.

Are you easy to get along with? >> I suppose that depends on who you are. I assume that I’m not easy to get along with because so few people have made a real effort to do so outside of casual interaction, which must mean that... it’s not worth it??? I don’t know how else I’m supposed to interpret that.

Is there a song that, every time you hear it, you think of someone? >> Probably.

Does it bother you when you text someone and they take forever to respond? >> Only if the text is time-sensitive. Like one time I texted Sparrow to ask her to remind me which flavour of chips was the one she liked while I was in the grocery store and she took fifteen minutes to respond and I couldn’t really do anything that whole time except... stand around in the store, lol. It wasn’t her fault or anything, and I got over it because it wasn’t a big deal, but it did bother me because I felt stupid just standing around.

Have you ever had a pet goldfish? >> No.

Where was your default picture taken? >> ---

Can you play guitar hero? >> Absolutely. Not as well as I used to, because I don’t play it constantly anymore, but I can still play pretty decently.

Has anyone ever told you that you have pretty eyes? >> Yes.

Do you think that age matters in a relationship? >> I’m so sick of this question I could spit.

Are you short? >> Relatively, I guess. Not to the point where it’s a source of angst.

Who was the first person that you texted in 2013? >> Ha, okay.

Can you honestly say that you’re happy right now? >> I’m neutral right now.

Is there anything stressing you out currently? >> No.

What’s something that you cannot wait for? >> The Dinnerly box to get here because I want to listen to music on my headphones but I can’t listen to music and listen for the doorbell. Arrrghghghh.

What was your favorite grade? >> ---

Do you miss someone? >> No.

Would you ever get a tattoo? >> Of course.

Do you like to sit in the sun and tan when it’s hot out? >> I like to sit in indirect sunlight (direct is too bright and intense for me to weather for more than a few minutes). I don’t do any tanning, seeing as I’m already dark-skinned.

Do you worry too much? >> No.

How many people with the name Taylor do you know? >> Zero.

Are you currently looking forward to tomorrow? >> Not particularly, nothing special is happening tomorrow.

Favorite color? >> Gold.

Favorite number? >> 9 / 19.

did anything bad happen to you in september? >> It is September, and nothing bad has happened to me so far.

When you’re at the beach, do you swim or lay out? >> I just lounge around under an umbrella. I might go splash in the surf a couple of times, but other than that there’s really not much for me to do at the beach except just chill.

How’s your day been? >> It’s still early, so it’s mostly been... uneventful.

What were you doing at eight this morning? >> I think I was reading an article.

This time last year, what was your relationship status? >> Engaged. Everything was the same Inworld.

How old will you be in three years? >> 36.

What were you doing at four am? >> Sleeping.

What holiday is closest to your birthday? >> Memorial Day. Sometimes they coincide.

Are you afraid of shots? >> Not at all.

How many letters are in your middle name? >> Six.

Do you wear the hood on your hoodies? >> Usually. I like the hooded feeling. Unless it's hot out, but if it is, I'm not going to be wearing a hoodie anyway.

Ever liked someone who treated you like crap? >> Unfortunately.

What color shirt do you have on right now? >> Black.

How’s your hair looking? >> Buzzed.

What are you thinking about right now? >> Finishing this survey.

When was the last time that someone of the opposite sex gave you a hug? >> I don’t remember.

Has anyone ever called you a bitch? >> Sure.

What was the last non-alcoholic beverage that you had? >> Water.

Have you consumed alcohol in the last thirty-six hours? >> Yes.

Did anything brighten up your day? >> Not particularly.

Would you rather write in pen or pencil? >> Pen.

Do you have an older sister? >> ---

Are you going to go to college? >> No.

Could you date someone who can’t make you laugh? >> ---

Are you wearing your favorite color right now? >> Black is a colour I like. But I’m not wearing any gold, except my jewelry.

Has anyone upset you today? >> No.

Where did you stay three nights ago? >> At home.

Describe how you feel right now in one word? >> Neutral.

Do you find it hard to trust others? >> Yes.

What are you listening to? >> I put music on after all, because I hadn’t realised the garbage truck was still going around and it’s so loud when it’s emptying the dumpsters. So I decided to just... try to watch out for the Dinnerly delivery from the window. :V The song is Disturbed’s cover of If I Ever Lose My Faith in You.

Would you say that you’re emotionally strong? >> I’m working on it.

are you ready for kids right now? >> No.

Who will you never forget? >> ---

Were you an adorable baby? >> I mean, I don’t know, probably.

Are you attracted to someone right now? >> Inworlders as usual.

Are you happy with who you’re becoming? >> I feel a lot of ways about my current process of becoming. Hopeful is probably a more accurate positive feeling than happy.

Do you want children? >> No.

Has anyone of the opposite sex ever written you a song? >> No.

Was last night enjoyable for you? >> It was enjoyable to be in my bed with freshly laundered sheets after a harrowing day in my head, sure.

Do you change your phone background a lot? >> I rarely change it.

How’s your heart lately? >> Beating along.

Do you want to tell someone how you feel? >> ---

Has anyone told you that they don’t ever want to lose you? >> Of course. It’s one of those things people say, innit?

What’s the last thing that made you smile? >> I don’t remember.

Would you rather take a relationship really slow or really fast? >> Uh. I'd rather they commence at the pace that feels most comfortable. Some relationships -- the short kind, which can still be fun if you both agree that it's a fling and not meant to last, are usually fast by design. People discount flings, but I will always think they're valid relationships.

If someone was interested in you right now, would you like for them to tell you? >> I mean, I don’t care. They can tell me if they like, but if they expect anything special to happen after that then they should probably learn something about me before making declarations like that.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? >> Eight or so.

Who did you last yell at, and why? >> I don’t remember. It’s been at least a year, I’m sure.

Is your best friend pissing you off at this exact moment? >> ---

Where was the last place that you fell asleep other then your bed? >> A bed in the Wayland house, I’m assuming.

Would you rather love one person or have many short relationships? >> ---

Do you remember who you liked three months ago? >> ---

Have you ever liked someone that you didn’t expect to like? >> ---

when applying eyeliner, which eye do you do first? >> Left, I think.

Do you remember the first time that you kissed the last person that you kissed? >> No, lmao.

Is there anyone in the room with you? >> Nope.

do you own a pair of skinny jeans? >> Unfortunately.

Where will you be in five hours? >> In the living room playing FFXIV, most likely.

Would you rather get a new puppy or a new car? >> ---

How many exs have you talked to today? >> Zero????

When you hold hands, do you interlock fingers? >> ---

Do you have both a loud side and a quiet side? >> No, I’m just pretty quiet all around. Even my “loud” is still comparatively pretty quiet.

How do you handle difficult people? >> What does “difficult” even mean, really?

#surveys #survey #random survey

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copperbadge · 6 years ago

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rsfcommonplace replied to your post “Me: so should I stick with the job I have now and know exactly how to...”

Depends on the benefits. If it means switching medical it better be a very fat raise.

Oh lord, fortunately I won’t have to -- the new place has the same PPO option as where I am now. No dental, but the raise would offset the higher dental cost, at least.

amairawrites replied to your post “Me: so should I stick with the job I have now and know exactly how to...”

Do you want to stay in an organization that tolerates a toxic environment for long enough that people are looking to leave because of it? Even if the other departments are better, the one being a problem for so long is not a good sign.

Well, that’s the thing -- it’s been a problem for such a short amount of time, relative to how long I’ve been there. It’s been a great place to work for ten years -- it’s just in the past ten months that things have gone downhill, and it’s almost entirely due to two specific people becoming managers. Then again, I’ve thought about how, if I had the power, I would fix what happened, and I honestly don’t see a good way out of it even if I was empowered to fix it. Too much has changed.

stripedsilverfeline replied to your post “Me: so should I stick with the job I have now and know exactly how to...”

Get out of the toxic environment! Life is short and you already know it's not good there; don't count on it getting better or on outlasting the toxic boss. Free yourself. Do something new and fresh and a lot less stress-making. And that was my unwanted advice, sorry!

LOL well it’s good to have anyway! That’s what I’m leaning towards -- that the anxiety of the unknown is better than knowing I’ll be anxious every day in the place I’m in now.

selkieinthesea replied to your post “Me: so should I stick with the job I have now and know exactly how to...”

�� I think these are hugs? I’m trying to send you hugs, not sure if it’s working, but I’m giving it my best shot! Good luck with whichever you choose!

They show up as boxes for me but I accept them as hugs anyway! BOXY HUGS. :D Thank you for the luck.

daroos replied to your post “Me: so should I stick with the job I have now and know exactly how to...”

*hugs* Dude if you need someone to objectively do the pro con talk with I'm always open

I might do some form of stream tomorrow to talk it out with people. I still have to make my pro-con list. I’m probably going to treat myself to a hamburger while I do it so that I’ll actually do it. :D

katkun1 replied to your post “Me: so should I stick with the job I have now and know exactly how to...”

Make a decision and live with it for a few hours and see how it feels.

That’s really great advice, and it’s something I’ve been doing a bit. I think about leaving, and what that would mean, and what would change and what I’d lose, and then I think about staying and what that would mean, and what I wouldn’t be able to escape if I’d stayed.

Yesterday, because I was working from home and not as accountable for being productive, I went through all my work archives, all the files on my network drive, on our cloud drive, and on my hard drive, and I sorted out what could be deleted, what I would want to take with me when I left (nothing confidential, just helpful information), and what I would need to leave for my successor. I went through my project management app and figured out what I’d have to complete and what I’d have to hand off. And the feeling of relief at the idea of not having to do some of those things was really bone-deep. But at the same time, there would be new challenges, totally unknown ones, and lots of new work at the new place, so I’ve got to balance it -- treat it as a reality, not a fantasy.

But man did it feel good to clean and organize my files as if I was leaving. To be able to make all the bullshit someone else’s problem.

spaci1701 replied to your post “Me: so should I stick with the job I have now and know exactly how to...”

Is there someone above your department you could take it to? Tell them you've received another offer and that, though you feel a lot of loyalty to the organization, you're not sure that the mental health toll of the current environment is worth waiting to see what happens? It might push up your possible future promotion or at least get it guaranteed. A fixed date would do wonders for your stress level. And it might even kick them into dealing with the toxic-ness.

I wish, honestly. The problem is that the two departments -- the one I’m in now and the one I’d be promoted into -- are the same functionary office for two different divisions of the company, so they’re not overseen by the same people. It would be almost like changing companies completely. So there is one person, theoretically, who oversees both, but they are SO high up that they don’t deal in employment issues. And it’s two separate HR departments as well, so I can’t go to their HR department and be like “Hey please list this job sooner so I can apply and get hired.”

Department two does hate department one’s manager, which is a point in their favor, they just...can’t do anything about it, because they’re so highly separated.

grrlcookery replied to your post “Me: so should I stick with the job I have now and know exactly how to...”

Whichever choice you make - and it's not easy - we will also always -<3 you

Aww, thank you. That’s the kind of thing I need to remember when I get over-anxious about decisions like this, that it is not actually life and death, I will have friends and family and survive and be able to pay my mortgage regardless.

#grrlcookery #spaci1701 #katkun1 #selkieinthesea #daroos #rsfcommonplace #amairawrites #stripedsilverfeline

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jos-corner-of-the-world · 5 years ago

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Girl I liked it before I even read it!!! Ugh I loved it so much!!! Now I need a Jihoon one, a Jun one, a Jeonghan one... I just need one for all 13 members lol. (jk i don’t want to stress you out lol)

Well! You asked for it! After conferring with my better half (@thedarkbathtub ) I will be doing a Daddy series.

All members (except Wonwoo because of big world) will be getting a dad/husband story! Most will be one shots, a couple maybe 2 or 3 parts but they'll all be relatively short.

I conferred with Nancy because I'm kind of mimicking it after her Neighbor series and since that's her brainchild I wanted to be sure I wasn't stepping on toes to copy that a bit.

There's no time table for them or order but I'm doing it!

If there's anything you want to see for a specific member just let me know ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

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notsoguiltykpop · 6 years ago

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The Tenth Floor Extra(1)

This happens in the Tenth Floor Universe, after part 20-21ish--reading previous parts would probably make this a lot more interesting haha. If you’ve been curious about Yoongi and Taehyung’s relationship, this might answer a few questions!

Min Yoongi had gone through 34 secretaries in the past 24 months, and each one of them left in tears. This fact alone should have warned you against taking the job, but the pay was too good to pass up. Surely you could put up with a billionaires temper-tantrums, right?

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

(This is what I wrote for my Creative Writing class btw! It was written as a stand-alone short story, so that’s why it doesn’t really have anything to do with the plot of TTF other than the fact that it’s about Yoongi and Taehyung (with different names in the official version, of course lol).

Yoongi wanted to argue. He wanted to tell the droopy-eyed, yawning employee that he didn't have time to hang around in some strange-smelling tire store for two whole stupid hours. Even if he did, he wouldn’t want to. But he could tell by the man’s flat, disinterested tone that arguing wouldn’t change anything; the car would be ready by the end of the day, and him acting like a child about it wouldn’t make it go any faster.

“What if I paid extra?” Yoongi couldn't quite stop himself from asking, seeing Taehyung out of the corner of his eye helping himself to a cup of coffee.

“First come first serve,” He said flatly, then added, “Look, we'll do the best we can to get you and your friend--”

“We're not friends,” Yoongi cut in.

“You and the guy traveling with you,” The man said, not in the least bit phased by the interruption. “Back on the road, but if it's really that urgent, you might think about Uber’ing there or something.”

Yoongi rested his elbows on the counter as he leaned forward. “Do I look like someone who Uber's anywhere, ever?” He asked, but the man wasn't really listening anymore. He grabbed some headphones from a drawer and a pair of gloves from the counter before standing and making his way to the door that read “Employees Only” in big red letters.

“We'll let you know as soon as it's done,” He called over his shoulder.

“I guess I'll just take a seat, then,” Yoongi grumbled.

Taehyung was way ahead of him. He had settled himself down into one of the obnoxiously bright-red chairs, his coffee in one hand and phone in the other. His feet rested on an end table, crumpling the magazines on it under his shoes.

“Cheer up, Yoongs,” He said without looking up. “There's free Wi-Fi; things could be worse.”

“They could also be better,” Yoongi replied dryly, sitting on the other side of the room from his stepbrother. It didn’t do as much good as he had hoped--the room just wasn’t that big to begin with. “You know, if you hadn't hit that rock and ruined my tire.”

“It wasn't my fault!” Taehyung shot back irritably.

“You're right, it was mine for trusting you to drive.” If Yoongi was honest with himself, he knew that if he had been the one driving when the raccoon ran into the road, he probably would have swerved and hit the same rock. Logic didn't stop him from blaming Taehyung, however; ultimately, Taehyung was the one driving, after all.

“Don't you get tired of being such an ass all the time?” Taehyung scoffed.

Yoongi pretended not to hear him, turning his attention to the TV in one corner, where the local news was talking about the weather. It looked like the snow storm was moving faster than originally predicted, and they were advising people to stay off the roads if possible.

“Have you called your dad yet?” Taehyung asked suddenly.

“No,” Yoongi snorted. “Why would I have? He won't notice if we're there or not.”

“Maybe, but my mother will.”

“So why don't you just call her, then?” Yoongi wanted to ask, but he already knew the answer. Taehyung didn't deal with grief, or anything else for that matter. When things got complicated, he bailed. Simple as that. His mother was the only exception to this rule, as far as Yoongi knew. Now, Taehyung was caught between wanting to run like hell, and being there for his family. Taehyung wouldn't call his mother unless he had to, Yoongi was sure.

It wasn't that Yoongi was looking forward to arriving at Taehyung’s grandmother's farm in upstate New York to see a bunch of grieving relatives he didn't know. He wasn't looking forward to seeing his father, or getting asked “how's the business going?” and “have you met the one yet?”

Truthfully, under any other circumstances, he would have welcomed the excuse to get to the farm a day later than everyone else. But Taehyung was there, which made it significantly less enjoyable.

Yoongi sighed deeply, turning his gaze to the ceiling and noticing a large water stain there. “Even if we left now, we wouldn't beat the storm. I think we'll have to stay somewhere tonight.” He hated the idea but didn't see a different option. Taehyung just nodded idly in agreement. “I'll call your mother, you make the hotel reservations.”

Explaining to Mrs. K that they were going to be late went about as well as Yoongi expected. She wanted to know why they hadn't checked the weather, that they were both okay, and then apologized for getting in his business and telling him what to do. Yoongi didn't listen as much as he probably should have, eyes glued to the window where snow was gathering quickly. It wasn't that he disliked her, or didn't care about what she had to say. He just didn't have the energy to argue that he really didn't mind, and that he understood she was stressed. After letting her ramble for a few minutes, occasionally saying “Mhm,” and “It’s fine,” he made the lame excuse of the phone cutting out to get off the phone with her.

“So where are we staying?” He asked, turning to his brother. Taehyung just smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I called every hotel in the area,” He started.

“And?” Yoongi pressed.

“And they're full. But--” He held a finger up as he took a step back. “It's completely fine!”

“Damn it, Tae--”

“There's a 24-hour diner just up the road. We can hang out there until the car is ready, or the storm passes. Whichever comes first.”

He didn't wait to hear Yoongi’s reply, hurrying out the door before he could poke holes in his plan.

The diner was small and a little cramped. Yoongi guessed that other people might call it “cozy,” but to him, it just felt claustrophobic. It appeared they weren't the only ones hoping to wait out the storm, and they had to wait a few minutes before a small table shoved into the corner by the kitchen freed up.

“Doesn't this remind you of that time when we were sixteen in Waffle House?” Taehyung asked, elbowing Yoongi gently as they made their way over to the table.

“No,” Yoongi replied flatly, thinking that maybe he should have just stayed at the tire store.

“You had that nasty fake spider you were going to leave in Miss Marley's desk,” Taehyung’s smile was growing as he spoke.

“Are you going somewhere with this?” Yoongi snapped. His chair wobbled on the uneven flooring, despite his best attempt at adjusting it to make it stop. Taehyung’s smile dropped, and he folded his arms as Yoongi picked up a menu and pretended to read it.

“I know you remember,” He said. “You ended up leaving it under the check because the waitress made fun of my hair.”

Yoongi nodded reluctantly, waving a hand for Taehyung to stop talking. “Just because I remember, doesn't mean I like thinking about it. We were awful children.”

“We enjoyed life,” Taehyung argued. “You can't say we didn't have fun.”

This, at least, was true. Despite how much Yoongi cringed looking back on the things they did in their teens, even he had to admit they were some of the happiest years of his life.

“We were terrible children,” He repeated with a sigh. Leaving the fake spider for that poor waitress to find was one of the more mild shenanigans they got up to in those days.

“Do you ever miss it?” Taehyung asked quietly, and Yoongi almost missed it in the buzz of the diner.

“What?” He replied, raising an eyebrow and peering at Taehyung over the top of his menu. “Being a stupid teen? No.”

“I meant, do you ever wish we were still that close?”

Yoongi couldn't remember the last time he looked at Taehyung and thought he was being sincere about anything, but in that moment, there was something about the hesitancy in his voice that made Yoongi pause, biting back the snide remark that came to mind.

“There's no going back to that,” He said after a moment.

“Why not?” Taehyung seemed determined not to let this go now he'd brought it up, and it made Yoongi wonder how long Taehyung had thought about it. “I mean, it's ridiculous, right? We live in the same city, and see each other maybe once a year? That's stupid! Isn't time to forgave each other for the stupid things we did in our teens and moved on?”

“I have moved on,” Yoongi cleared his throat, looking back at the menu so he wouldn't have to look Taehyung in the eyes.

“Like hell you have,” Taehyung muttered.

“I didn't say I forgave you,” Yoongi slammed his menu down, trying to ignore the waiter who started to approach the table and seemed to have thought better of it. “I said I moved on. Big difference.”

Taehyung fell silent for a moment. “I can’t believe you’re going to hold a grudge after all these years…” He muttered.

Yoongi shook his head. He wasn’t even sure if he was mad anymore, if he truly asked himself. He was, however, positive that things couldn’t go back to how they were before all of the family drama. They couldn’t get back all those years wasted fighting because Taehyung hated Yoongi’s dad and despite everything, Yoongi took over his father’s company and became just like him. Too much damage had been done, for too long.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi sighed. “Honestly? I miss those days, too. And maybe you’re right--that we should move on, I mean. But it’ll never be like it was. Not really.”

Taehyung nodded slowly, eyes on the table. “I guess.”

“I do wish we’d seen her face, though,” Yoongi couldn’t help a smile pulling at his lips.

“What?” Taehyung looked up, confused.

“The waitress,” Yoongi clarified. “We were so scared to get caught, we didn’t stick around to see her face when she found the spider.”

Taehyung grinned. “Hearing her scream was pretty great though, wasn’t it?”

A/N And there it is! That’s what my teacher is going to grade, lol. I was originally going to make it about all-new characters, but as I developed the setting, I realized that TTF Tae and Yoongi were the perfect people to end up stranded in a snow-storm together, plus it gave me a chance to talk about their past. Btw, I think I’m going to re-write the last several chapters of TTF, so if they disappear for a bit, that’s why lol. Thanks for reading, and let me know what you thought! Did it answer any of your questions about them? Do you still hate Taehyung? Based only on this, my classmates have informed me that Yoongi is an ass, and were all on Tae’s side. <3

#The tenth floor #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagines #taehyung scenario #taehyung imagine #suga scenarios #v scenarios #suga imagine #suga fanfic #taehyung scenarios

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