#and dylan when his hair is blonde
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pandorumblue-blog · 2 years ago
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Am I the only one who sees this? Whenever I watch a Chen Feiyu drama, I'm reminded of the Sprouse twins.
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wanghedi · 10 months ago
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wang hedi stylist moodboard for this look:
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brotherslayer · 3 months ago
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Me, delulu: Y'know they only said that Lleu llaw was born blonde, not that he kept being blonde(I want him to have silver hair like Arianrhod, forsaken son looking like his mom pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease)
Blonde hair can look white. In Finland there are some people which have icy blonde, almost white hair, especially children. It's the type of blonde hair I image Medraut has.
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deathlooksgoodonyou-if · 6 months ago
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It was the summer of 2010 when you found Jules Hawkins by the lake. But it didn't look like Jules Hawkins.
After all, how could it? Jules Hawkins was a god. And as you know, gods like Jules are unbreakable. If you knew anyone death couldn't touch, it was Jules. And yet, somehow it felt like you had never seen Jules look more like them than they did, that day, dead by the lake. Plump cherry lips, now parched and blue, dirt on their perfect knees, golden hair sticking to their forehead, exquisite clothes matted and muddied, skin, ghostly pale.
Even in death, even as Jules became a child of soil and dirt and ruin, Jules managed to look like art. How could this creature of beauty be anyone else but Jules Hawkins?
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A string of murders follow the passing of Jules Hawkins and in the desperation of avoiding being tangled in the web of this cold blooded murderer, you end up right in the thick of it when you find out the killer may have set their eyes on you next.
Of course, you ended up in the killer's radar. You had always been a child of misfortune, after all.
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• Customise your mc. Choose your appearance. Play as male, female, non-binary or trans; straight, gay or bisexual etc.
• Play as an emotionally scarred individual. Escape the hell you call your mind, alone or with the help of allies. Or succumb to the voices.
• Find your predator before your predator finds you. Or keep running. How far will you run? Do you even want to run?
• Befriend, antagonize, manipulate or romance fellow residents of Ravenwoods.
• Heavily character driven.
• The lake calls out to you. Will you listen?
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JULIAN/NE "JULES" HAWKINS. [he/him or she/her] [semi ro]
You knew Jules in the way you wish you never did. Jules is embedded into your very bones. Jules is a part of you. You wish you could escape them.
Jules may be no more for the world but they are alive and breathing in your haywire brain and they are not very kind. Not that they ever were. But the Jules that haunts you, plagues you like a disease is ruthless with their words in a way the old Jules could never be. Not to you.
Description : Pale skin. Rosy tint to cheeks. High cheekbones. f!Long wheatish blonde curly hair with bangs. m!shoulder length curly wheatish blonde hair. Almond shaped brown eyes. Arched eyebrows. Long, thick lashes. Bow shaped lips. f!willowy frame. 5'11. m!broad back, narrow waist, long legs. 6'2.
CHAE WARREN. [he/him]
There are few you consider friend and Warren is one of them, alongside Sujin. He is revolution in a glass jar. A little rough around the edges, with bullet holes in his paper heart. Lately, the air becomes laced with awkwardness when its just the two of you around. You wish you weren't fairly perceptive. Perhaps that could have made you oblivious to the way Warren's adams apple bobs and his throat tightens when you are around, the way his fists clench when his tongue slips or the way he glances at you thinking you didn't notice.
Description : Sharp jaw. Medium complexion. Monolid chocolate brown eyes. Straight eyebrows. Thin pinkish lips. 5'7. Athletic figure. Short dyed dark red hair.
JESSICA HAWKINS. [she/her]
Jules' twin. You never bothered to acquaint yourself with her. She had always seemed too saintly and your mother had taught you well to stay away from that kind. Those who hide their tainted souls behind rosemary lies, platinum smiles and bright eyes stitched from sunshine. Beware of them, your mother had told you. But is that what she truly is doing? Spinning honeyed tales from saccharine lips?
You would never know. Unless you choose to. If it helps, Jules lips always quirked upwards and the crease in their brows mellowed whenever her name rolled off their tongue.
Description : Kind almond shaped brown eyes. Long, thick lashes. Bow shaped lips. Arched eyebrows. High cheekbones. Straight blonde hair, reaching her back. Pale skin. Willowy frame. 5'10.
DYLAN JEANE. [he/him]
Jules' boyfriend, Dylan. Well, ex boyfriend now. He seems to harbour a deep dislike for you. No matter how hard he denies it— the slight tensing of the muscles in his jaw always give it away.
You had always been curious about him. Jules and him were an odd pair. How could Dylan be what Jules desired? They were polar opposites. Jules was tidal waves and traditional typhoons. He is ruddy sunsets and roseate dawns. He is habit, he is routine, he is rigid, he is never changing. A sad strange kind of tragedy. Jules was anything but that. Jules was everything at once. Jules was never the same. Jules was uneven. Jules was hurricanes and tsunamis.
There is a natural downwards turn to his lips, his shoulders always a little hunched as if the burdens of life have dripped down from the ceiling and chosen to settle like dust upon his shoulders. You wonder what weighs him down so terribly. He talks as if every breath he takes from his lungs rattles him to the core. Perhaps it does. He seems to have taken Jules' death as hard as you, if not worse.
Description : Short slicked back midnight black hair. Heavy lidded hazel eyes. Slender built. Wears rimless rectangular glasses occassionally. Angular face. Sharp lips. Upwards eyebrows. Fair skin. 6'1.
AIDEN HAMILTON. [he/him]
The second child of the sleazy mayor. Boy of many faces. You don't trust him one ounce. For good reasons. It irks you to watch his eyes glimmer as if you are a specimen that intrigues him. You don't trust the myriad of unhealthy secrets he hides behind his charming gaze, the sly smile that tugs off the corner of his lips or the disarming lilt of voice as his salty tongue rolls off silken threads of honeysuckle lies frictionlessly. It comes to him as naturally as breathing. The impurity of his father's gold taints him, it runs in his veins and he embraces it willfully.
He is hiding skeletons in his closets and everybody knows that. What it is however, is a different story.
Will he let you in on a secret?
Description : Unruly brown wavy hair, in a middle part. Luscious lips, heavy lower lip, a small faint and old scar at the corner of his mouth. S-shaped eyebrows. Sea green hooded eyes. Tanned complexion. V-shaped jaw. Toned build. 6'4.
HEATHER HAMILTON. [she/her]
Eldest child of the mayor. You are not particularly friends but she is not a bad company to have around either. You like her. You have met in passing and she always has a quick smile reserved for you. You know she is a dreamer with a pomegranate heart. She has also somehow inherited her mother's love of parties. Hers tend to be a little more wild and carefree, though. Just like her.
Uncharacteristically, she is also fond of painting. Will you be her muse?
Description : Straight brown hair in a bob cut. Hooded brown eyes. Heart shaped lips. Soft arch eyebrows. Skinny frame. Tanned complexion. Dimples on both cheeks. 5'7.
MIA MORGAN. [she/her]
Mia Morgan is the kind of girl who will rip your heart out, eat it raw and call it love. With midnight eyes of catlike grace that could rival any godforsaken abyss and lips richer and darker than the blood running in your veins, she's the kind of girl that would skin you alive and chew on your fickle heart but then kiss your eyelids and tell you 'good night, baby' and you would like a lovesick dog spiral back to her, yearning for more.
Why? Because you are a fool? No. Because she was Mia Morgan and Mia Morgan was born for seduction and playing with the strings of childish hearts. A holy ruination. Destruction in its most, enchanting, enrapturing form.
Will you let her destroy you?
Description : Wispy bangs, short hush cut, black hair. Dark cat eyes. Beauty mark on upper lip. Soft jaw. Chubby cheeks. Crimson pouty lips. Fair complexion. Curvaceous figure. 5'2.
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KIM SUJIN. [she/her]
She considers you a close friend, sharing every secret with you.
Description : Bronze skin, wide set brown eyes with gold flecks, button nose, freckles, curtain bangs, medium length chestnut brown hair. 5'3.
ARTHUR MORRIS. [he/him]
Aiden's friend. He's an asshole.
Description : Mahogany complexion, hollowed cheeks, has a stubble, ebony eyes, buzzcut, brawny. 6'1.
PARIS HILL. [he/him]
Local heartthrob. He looks handsome till he opens his mouth.
Description : Sunkissed complexion, wide lips, honey brown eyes, blonde hair in a fringe. Buff arms and broad back. Has an unhealthy obsession with shades. 5'10.
AUNT AUBURN MACKENZIE. [she/her]
She loves you dearly. There is nothing she wouldn't do for you.
Description : Brown hair, generally tied in a loose bun. Wrinkles near eyes and smiling lines around her mouth. Thin lips. Stout and a little hunched frame. Brown complexion. 5'1.
MOTHER. [she/her]
A woman with a twisted understanding of love. You haven't seen her in years and while you may have forgotten her face, her voice still rings crystal clear in your mind, like an old cassette on repeat.
FATHER. [he/him]
A man you knew but never quite understood. It is his face that stares back at you everytime you look in the mirror.
MAYOR JOHN HAMILTON. [he/him]
The mayor of Ravenwoods. It would serve you well to have him as an ally. Having strong connections has always proved to be useful.
Description : Beige skin. Hooked nose. Green eyes. Bushy brows. Short hair, close cropped. Smooth blonde hair. Plump frame. 5'8.
MEERA CHAUHAN HAMILTON. [she/her]
Wife of the mayor. She may be a little snobby but she means well. Most of the times. After all, who isn't a little selfish?
Description : Tanned complexion. Almond brown gold eyes. Brown hair wavy reaching her mid back. Slender frame. 5'10.
LAWRENCE HAWKINS. [he/him]
Father of the Hawkins siblings. You would rather not get involved with him.
Description : Pale skin. Blonde slicked back hair. Blue eyes. High cheek bones. Sharp jaw. Wears frameless rectangular glasses. 5'11.
AURORA HAWKINS. [she/her]
Mother of the Hawkins siblings. You would rather not get involved with her.
Description : Blonde hair, generally tied in a tight bun. Pale skin. Brown eyes. 5'9.
OFFICER RYAN DOUGLAS. [he/him]
He's a good man. He tries his best.
Description : Rosy complexion. Dark brown eyes. Short brown hair. Average build. 5'8.
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DEMO. (DECEMBER OR SOONER!)
COG FORUM. (DECEMBER OR SOONER!)
EXCLUSIVE CONTENT. (TBD!)
FAQ.
> Rated 18+ for mature themes such as (heavy spoilers ahead!) explicit language, sexual themes, questionable behaviour, toxic relationships, murder, elitism, child abuse, domestic violence, insomnia, toxic relationships, manipulation, transphobia, racism, internalised transphobia and homophobia, death, childhood trauma, mild nudity, feelings of being watched, stalking, infidelity, hallucinations.
Reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for your interest! <3
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star-girl69 · 4 months ago
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After Midnight
Caroline (KK) Harvey x Fem!Reader
—-
synopsis: flirting with the star hockey player at the frat party isn’t what you would normally do, but it’s after midnight and something about the lights is making everything a little hazy.
feel free to send requests!!! 🫶🫶
a/n: GUYS PLEASE. PLEASE IGNORE THIS. i’m sorry i’ve betrayed all my morals… but i cant sit idly by while my fellow kk lovers suffer… i hope you all enjoy!!
After Midnight - Chappell Roan
warnings: not proofread!!!, ALCOHOL!!! we are in a FRAT people!!, some swearing ofc, super brief barely there mentions of violence and such, kk is taller than reader by like an inch suck it idc i do what i want, super brief mention of y/n having hair (length unspecified), idk like a bit of kissing and some somewhat suggestive thoughts… y/n is a freak 💔, i’ve never flirted with anyone before how do you do this, so probs inaccurate, i don’t know anything about hockey just prefacing this, i also don’t know how college works rip, as chappell roan said: “i love a little drama, let’s start a bar fight, cause everything good happens after midnight”
—-
“Shit, babe, you look fuckin’ hot.”
This entire night is almost painful for you. Stepping out of your comfort zone on any level is always an adjustment, but trading your early nights in with homework and Netflix for a sexy dress showing everything in all the right and wrong places- is especially hard.
You almost cringe touching the velvet fabric of your revealing dark red shirt, staring at someone in the mirror you don’t even recognize.
“Jackie,” you mumble to your best friend and roommate, “I think it’s.. too much.”
Jackie tilts her head to the side, short dirty blonde hair swaying with the movement. She’s only humoring you, you can tell. “Nope. Perfect.”
You look at the pictures stuck in the slats of the mirror. Pictures of you, Jackie, and the other girl in your trio, Tyla, faces pressed together in bright smiles from various adventures from your freshman year at college.
It was such a relief when Jackie was the sweetest girl and an amazing person to share a dorm with, but when she brought along her best friend Tyla from a few doors down- the three of you fell into a quick and beautiful friendship, like the ones in the movies.
Jackie and Tyla were definitely more on the party girl side than the study girl side, but that was what was so great about your friendship. You reminded them that they did in fact have homework, and they pushed you to do things like this every once in a while.
This was the first time you had ever suggested it. Midterms were over- it would be wrong to not celebrate. To breathe in the few seconds you had left as a freshman, before it all got turned up again for sophomore year.
“Okay,” Jackie breathes, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “Take a deep breath, babe. The fit is a lot, yes, but it’s gorgeous. I mean, damn, where have you been hiding that ass?”
You bite your lip, eyes tearing away from the pictures, meeting Jackie’s eyes in the reflection.
“My ass does look really good,” you concede.
“Hell yeah it does!” Jackie shouts, smiling brightly. “Don’t be nervous, okay? It’s just some random frat party. We can go sit outside if it gets too much.”
It’s break. It’s Friday night. You look good, however uncomfortable you are.
“Fuck,” you mumble. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”
“You’re good?”
“I’m just gonna do a few shots when we get there.”
“That’s my girl.”
Jackie thinks for a moment. “Besides, I think it’s a party to celebrate the girls hockey team winning a game, or something like that. The attention is gonna be far away from you. But…”
She trails off, picking at a piece of thread hanging from her comforter.
“What?” You ask, heart jumping to your throat in fear.
“Dylan might be there,” she shrugs.
Ugh.
Dylan.
Dylan wasn’t even that big of a problem, just a boy you had overzealously dated right when you got to college, when you were adjusting and still kind of lonely, only to find out his obsessive, stalker-ish personality was literal hell to be in a relationship with.
After maybe a week of constant love-bombing and clinginess, you broke up with him- and he tried for literal months to get your attention before he finally seemed to give up.
Once in a while, you’d see him at these parties, and he’d stare at you in a way that was probably supposed to be sexy, but was only weird and uncomfortable.
“Who gives a fuck about him?” You ask, your own surprise reflected in Jackie’s face.
“Damn, girl. Yeah, you’re fuckin’ right. Who gives a fuck about his sad ass?”
“I don’t,” you scoff, refusing to let him ruin your night.
The bathroom door slams open suddenly, revealing Tyla in an even more revealing black dress. Skin tight with cut outs showing her dark skin.
“Jesus Christ, I pity the other girls at that bar.” Tyla runs her hands down her sides, smiling brightly in a way that can only be joking.
And you laugh, and you laugh when she softly bumps you away from the mirror and admires herself even more.
—-
Because of this rash decision to go out, Tyla hadn’t done her usual shopping for the pregame so you were forced to go to the party early- which Tyla actually groaned at and complained about how “embarrassing” it was. But after a few shots, that embarrassment fell away and she was back to being the funny, confident girl you knew her as.
You talked amongst the three of you, and with the two boys who were acting as bartenders, until more and more people slowly started filing in and the sky got dark. It was probably close to 10pm by the time the party really got busy, and those first two hours faded into a montage of alcohol stinging your throat and the sounds of your best friends laughing.
When the hockey team finally arrived, you were sitting on a couch with your girls, Tyla talking in this played-up sensual voice to a random boy who had taken an interest in her, while you and Jackie were busy scouting out the new arrivals and the different kinds of alcohol they placed on the table.
Even if Jackie hadn’t off-handedly mentioned it earlier, you quickly would have found out who this party was for. A large group of girls walked into the party, immediately met with cheers and shots, swarmed with alcohol and congratulations.
Some guy, probably one who actually lived in this house, whipped out a shitty megaphone and shouted their arrival, but it wasn’t even that loud.
Even you, however studious you were, knew about the girl’s hockey team. A bunch of them had played on the Olympic team a few years ago, and all the students of this D1 school were generally pretty proud that the Wisconsin team had won the most national championships.
Most of them were wearing their jerseys, but a few had dressed up. The girl’s hockey team was probably the hottest, most talented group of girls to ever be within 100 feet of you.
It was almost unfair how all of them were so beautiful and so talented, but you suppose that the rigorous workout schedules of Olympic and national athletes didn’t leave a lot of room for anything other than a fuck ton of muscles.
God, half of them towered over you and all of them could probably break your wrist with just a flick.
It was impressive.
What was most impressive, though, is the way the infamous Caroline Harvey walked in carrying about 27 cases of beer, which must have weighed as much as this fucking house, and effortlessly set it all on the ground beside the table full of red solo cups, chasers, and bottles of vodka.
Cheers rang out and people scrambled towards it, ripping the cardboard boxes open greedily and opening them just as fast.
You watched, hiding your parted mouth with your hand, as Caroline accepted an open beer from someone, cheers with a few of her teammates and drank a long sip. When she was done, she laughed and lifted her shirt to her mouth to wipe off some stray liquid, a movement that let just a sliver of her toned abs peek through.
“Holy fuck,” you whispered, quickly looking to the floor and deciding hockey was your new favorite sport.
You knew her from around campus, you both liked to study in the library at the same time- around 3 on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and it became kind of tradition to just stare at her for a few minutes in between sections of your work. Almost like some weird little reward. You did feel kind of bad about it, but fuck, there was no way you could stop.
Besides, it’s not like she noticed.
You always sat on opposite sides of the library, and she never once even looked in your direction. What Caroline didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and you never see her unless it’s at the library or in passing at parties. But, God, doesn’t it feel good to just relish in how beautiful she is and stare for just a bit.
“Y/N, babe.”
Jackie knocked herself into you, her knees tucked up to her chest, some sort of a smile on her face.
“What’cha doin’?” She asks, smiling in a way that can only be described as evil. “Starin’? Hockey player pique your interest, huh?”
“No,” you say, forcing a laugh into your voice and rolling your eyes. “Just lookin’ at all the commotion.”
You’re trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, but now that Jackie’s mentioned it- those abs did pique your interest. And now they came flashing behind your eyes every time you blink.
“Oh, my God, I think I’m in heat,” you mumble, slightly to yourself and slightly to Jackie.
She wraps a lazy arm around your shoulder, letting out a sigh. “Oh, sweet girl, don’t worry. I’ve got you. Which one is it?”
“Caroline,” you mumble, so quiet and so sudden before you can really think about it.
Jackie hums, tilting her head to the side. “Don’t know a whole lot about her, but I heard she had a girlfriend freshman year, so definitely into girls. Not dating anyone right now, though. Olympian, hockey player, all that sexy stuff.”
“Mhmmmmm,” you mumble, sneaking a quick glance and then looking away immediately when she takes another sip of her drink, not wanting to know what would happen if you caught another glimpse of those god-sent abs.
“You gonna do somethin’ about it?” Jackie asks, nudging your head with hers.
“No, no,” you dismiss. “Just… being a freak. Admiring. God, I’m pathetic.”
Jackie laughs, abruptly standing and pulling you to your feet too. “Come on, babe, time for more drinks, let’s get your mind off of this if you’re not gonna make a move.”
You roll your eyes but follow her to the table of drinks farthest away from Caroline and the other hockey players. You’re not going to do anything, it’s not like you have a chance, and you’re just bored without schoolwork to occupy your every thought.
You take a deep breath, standing next to Jackie and surveying your options. Jackie choses for the both of you, definitely the more experienced party girl, mixing a drink that is majority vodka, making you groan slightly just at the thought of it.
“Here you go!” Jackie smiles, placing the red solo cup into your hand, smiling like she’s not trying to give you alcohol poisoning. Her gaze fixes on something behind you, and you faintly register the way her eyes light up- already a little tipsy from the few shots you’ve done- but you can’t even be bothered to question why.
You eye your drink suspiciously, mentally preparing yourself for the taste.
“Whoops,” Jackie mutters, and you look up at her only to feel her push you back.
“Jackie-” you start, angry, and she quickly scurries away from you. You want to kill her a little bit, at least question her- but you don’t get the chance to.
You gasp as you slam into someone behind you, drink splashing all over your front, alcohol mixing with the rich velvet texture of your shirt in a way that might very well ruin it. You bite your lip, glancing around the room, grateful that the room is so crowded and busy that no one noticed.
“Damn Harvey, knockin’ girls over on and off the ice,” someone laughs. You think you hear the sound of someone lightly hitting another person, followed by a small “ow.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”
You turn around, Jackie nowhere to be found, and completely freeze when you realize not only did the person you slammed into have enough decency to ask if you were okay, but that person was fucking Caroline Harvey.
You would have laughed at how cliche it was if you weren’t so secretly exhilarated. The only reason you even had this drink was to stop shamefully staring at her.
But she’s right in front of you… and she looks even better like this, cheeks slightly flushed already from the alcohol, a glint in her eyes.
Her eyes meet yours, staring at you in obvious confusion and concern- “Hey? You okay?”
She places her hand on your waist and you suddenly return back into your body, looking anywhere but her eyes that were literally fucking drowning you.
“I’m sorry,” you gasp. “I-I’m fine. I’m just, like, really drunk.” You laugh, awkwardly, trying to pretend that you’re talking to just anyone. Trying to pretend like her hand on your waist wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.
She smiles, Jesus Christ that fucking smile, your knees go a little weak.
“Oh, good. Would be a shame if that pretty head got a concussion.”
You laugh, staring at her smile. Intoxicating. It’s the only word that comes to mind- maybe enchanted. She’s like some drug, and, God, it’s so stupid but you think you might be addicted after hearing her voice just once.
And, the suddenly, so vividly you almost fall over again, you realize what she said to you.
“Here, let me help you,” she says, effortlessly taking the now pretty much empty red solo cup from you and placing it on the table behind you, wrapping her arm around your waist and leading you to what you assume is a bathroom, probably where she was originally going. “I’m Caroline, but you can call me KK.”
Your mouth is slightly agape as she leads you through the crowd, and you suddenly pass by Jackie who gives you a big smile and a thumbs up- disappearing into the crowd before you can curse her name.
Fuck it. She’s right in front of you. The alcohol is getting to your head, the dim lighting is making everything hazy- everything except her pretty blue eyes and her intoxicating smile.
“KK,” you say, testing the nickname. “That’s cute. I’m Y/N.”
“That’s cute,” she echoes, and the way you can hear the smile on her voice seriously makes you almost fall over.
Thankfully, the bathroom she leads you to is kind of out of the way, it’s completely empty and the door clicks behind the two of you.
Your mood immediately deflates when you see yourself in the mirror, your top noticeably darker where sticky alcohol has sunk into the fabric.
“Fuck,” you mumble, peeling the sticky fabric from your skin.
Before you can even think to do anything, Caroline- KK- is running a random hand towel under the sink and gesturing to you. You expect her to hand it to you- but she doesn’t.
“Okay if I touch you?”
God in Heaven.
“Y-yeah,” you choke out, feeling your world literally recalibrate when she puts her hand on your shoulder- so fucking close to your neck- to keep you steady. You always thought it was the stereotype that basketball players have big hands, but apparently hockey players do too.
Her hand is really warm. This bathroom is suddenly really warm. Your cheeks are heating up, and as much as you try to tell yourself it’s from the alcohol- you know it’s not.
“Sorry,” she mumbles after a few more seconds. “I don’t think this is gonna do much. Maybe try putting it in the wash, though.”
You sigh, now turned sideways, hip to the bathroom sink, looking at yourself out of the corner of your eye.
“It’s fine, my friend… bumped into me, and then I backed up straight into you. Not your fault.”
You look up at her, realizing at this close proximity that she’s taller than you, maybe only an inch.
“I might just go home,” you sigh, feeling kind of disgusting in this nasty shirt.
A frown immediately forms on her face.
“Party’s just started, though. Can’t go home yet, baby.”
She wants you to die. She literally wants you to die. She’s secretly an assassin, and you’ve blocked out the memory of some horrible crime you’ve committed, and now she’s here to kill you by calling you baby and having the sexiest abs you’ve ever seen.
Not a bad way to go, though.
“Here,” she says, reaching up and tugging her jersey over her head, again revealing those fucking abs, and she’s left in a black tank top you didn’t even notice the first time you were staring at her abs. “Take my jersey.”
“Oh, no. I can’t, KK. I mean…”
“I was getting hot anyways, it’s good. Take it.”
It’s nicer quality than any other jersey you’ve ever touched before- nicer than the obligatory Wisconsin sweatshirt you bought at the school store.
You cough, taking it with a hand that shakes slightly, not able to look at her.
“…Thank you,” you say after a moment.
She smiles, big and goofy. “It’s no problem. Maybe you can repay me by having a drink with me, though?”
You pretend to think about it, but really you have to knock your knees together so you don’t fall to the floor in excitement.
“That’s a pretty good price.”
You finally meet her eyes, holding your breath as she stares into your eyes like they’re a lifeline.
“Yeah, a drink with my sexy self- pretty good fuckin’ deal.”
You laugh, and she takes a step back, looking you up and down in a way that literally gives you butterflies-
“I’ll let you change,” she says. “Come find me when you’re done, yeah, baby?”
“I’ll find you,” you breathe, turning around to start slipping off your shirt so she doesn’t see the way you literally bite your lip.
The jersey is huge, since they have to be to cover all the padding and gear hockey players wear, and you’re almost worried that you’d look really stupid in it- but your jean bottoms pull it together, somehow.
It smells good. It smells dark, like a forest, still with a hint of something fresh and light. Is this her perfume? You might want to bathe in it.
You still look pretty good, and your mind races, wondering if KK would compliment you in it- but someone bangs on the bathroom door.
“Y/N?!” Jackie. “Y/N? Holy fucking shit- did I just see what I think I saw?!”
Tyla quickly shouts too. “I got dragged away from a really hot guy for this!! Please tell me it’s true!!!”
You open the door wordlessly, holding your hands out wide so Jackie and Tyla can see the the jersey, the Badgers emblem.
“Ladies, hold your applause.”
“What the fuck!” Tyla screams, forcing you to turn around, then tracing a finger along your back, no doubt where Caroline’s last name is printed on. “Harvey. Fucking Caroline Harvey.”
“God, she’s so hot,” Jackie groans, and you whip around to shoot her a glare. “Calm down, jealous bitch, I mean this is hot. Fuck, does she have any friends? This red is a good color on me…”
“Well,” you smile, mirroring Jackie’s own “evil” smile from earlier, “She said to come find her and get a drink. With her.”
“A drink…” Tyla breathes. “With… fucking Caroline Harvey?”
“Fucking Caroline Harvey.”
“I think I might faint from, like, secondhand hotness.”
“Well,” Jackie starts, looking away from the jersey in awe and back at your face, “You look hot. Go over there right now, get that girl, and make out. Just- right on the couch. Fuck right on the couch.”
“I second that,” Tyla smiles, adjusting the jersey slightly. “Fuck her.”
“Okay, shut up, thanks. We’ll see where the night goes.”
“Oh, my God, I can’t even believe you’re doing this. What happened to my little studious best friend?”
“Alcohol,” you shrug, momentarily wondering if you would regret all of this the next morning- but everything is just so goddamn hazy in this frat house, and you can’t think straight, can’t think about anything other than her.
“Okay, okay,” Tyla says, grabbing your shoulders and staring into your eyes like she’s about to gift you with the greatest wisdom. “You want her to come back?”
You inhale sharply. “Maybe.”
“Okay, well, if this goes good- you gotta leave her before midnight.” She glances at her watch, “It’s 11:06 right now, flirt her and romance her, all that, but leave before midnight, got it?”
“Um… why, though?”
“To keep her guessing, to keep her thinking about you, obviously,” Tyla rolls her eyes. “Trust me girl. We’ll meet you outside at 12 and then take an Uber back, right?”
“Right,” you and Jackie both repeat.
“If you really want her, before midnight, okay?”
“Okay, okay, Tyla. I’ll meet you guys then?”
Jackie pretends to wipe a few tears away. “My girl’s all grown up.”
“Shut up,” you laugh, hugging both of them quickly before disappearing into the crowd of people.
—-
You make your way towards a big couch, some armchairs, and a coffee table filled with liquor.
KK’s eyes light up when she sees you, and you notice there’s a conveniently placed empty seat right next to her, and two cups in her hands.
You don’t think anyone has noticed you wearing her jersey yet, and if someone has commented on KK’s lack of jersey, you can’t tell. You smooth it down, take a deep breath and plaster a smile on your face.
A seductive one, you hope, one like Tyla would do. And with the way she mirrors your smile with her own- except this one is just as big and goofy- you think it’s working.
“Y/N?”
Someone walks past you, then immediately stops and steps back, looking right at you.
“Yeah-?”
Oh.
“Hi, Dylan,” you mutter, smile falling from your face immediately.
“Y/N. I haven’t seen you in… forever, it feels like. How’ya been?”
“I’m fine, Dylan. I’m sorry, I’m meeting somebody, okay?” His face falls, and you feel sort of bad, so you add on “Talk soon,” to make yourself feel better.
“Wait,” he says, grabbing your arm, eyes moving from yours down to your outfit. “The fuck are you wearing? A jersey?”
“…Yes,” you say after a moment, genuinely confused until you remember how much Dylan despises sports, thinks they’re all just some popularity contest. “Okay, I’m meeting someone. Bye, Dylan.”
“Hi,” a new voice says, and you smile just a bit when you realize it’s Caroline. “I’m Caroline,” she says, ever-so politely, and it kinda makes your stomach twist. “Are you a friend of Y/N’s?”
Dylan’s eyes narrow at her. “No, I’m her ex.”
“Oh, my God,” you mumble to yourself, stepping close to Caroline. “Shut up.”
KK shoots you a look, and you can’t help but avoid your eyes. You tug your arm away from Dylan, but he doesn’t budge.
“Dylan, please,” you sigh. “I have to go, okay? Let go.”
“No, Y/N, come on-”
“Uh, I think she said let go, buddy.” She still has that same smile on her face, but your eyes flick to her exposed arms, now noticing just how much muscle is there too. There’s this glint to her smile, this edge to her voice, and you would genuinely be kinda scared if it was directed at you.
“This doesn’t involve you,” Dylan huffs. “Y/N and I need to talk- why the fuck are you going around trying to purposefully piss me off? You know I hate sports.”
“Dylan,” you start, genuinely having to take a deep breath. “We dated for a week in freshman year. Let go of me, stop embarrassing yourself, and stop talking to us.”
He stares at you, before scoffing and letting your arm drop. “You’re such a fucking bitch.”
“Okay,” you sigh. “Thank you, Dylan, goodbye.” You turn around, wondering if KK is even going to be there anymore. “I’m sorry-”
“What the fuck is his problem?” She says, and you genuinely smile at the pure disgust on her face. “Seriously- what?”
“I’m sorry,” you giggle. “It’s just… you’re so, disgusted by him.”
“You aren’t?”
“Well, yeah. But I know him.”
“And I’m sorry for that. I met him once and I never want to meet him again. Weird fucking bitch.”
You laugh again, linking your arm through hers without thinking. “Thanks for trying to defend me, though. I’m sorry- he’s just… an annoying bug that won’t go away, normally he doesn’t talk to me- but I guess he was bored tonight.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry, I think we lost the seats I saved.”
You look towards the couch, now completely filled with hockey players. “It’s okay,” you hum. “We can find somewhere else. Wanna go outside?”
—-
With the hum of the party behind you, and the stream of people walking out and walking in, the little bench on the corner of the porch was shrouded in darkness, and you felt like you were just in your own little corner with KK.
You sipped on the drink she had gotten you, exchanging basic information like what majors you were taking, how many siblings you had, and al that boring stuff before she finally stopped talking and just looked at you for a moment.
“What?” you asked, wiping some of your sip from around your lips.
She smiles. “Nothing. My jersey just looks nice on you.”
“Oh,” you say, stupidly. “Really? I was worried it didn’t get the same vibe as my original fit.”
“No, I would say you look even better.”
You smile, taking another sip for confidence before you place your hand on her arm. “So, tell me about hockey. Maybe workout routines?”
She laughs. “Workout routines?”
You softly squeeze her bicep. “Well, you don’t get these by just sitting around, do you?”
She takes a sip of her drink, trying to slyly cover her face, and you smile even wider.
“No, you don’t.” When she looks back at you, there’s the faintest hint of something on her cheeks, you don’t move your hand, sinking back into that addiction of making her blush. “Mostly lifting weights, cardio, boring things.”
“M’kay, what about actual hockey? I heard you were an Olympian, right?”
She flexes her other arm, and you can see a tattoo made up of the Olympics logo, intertwining rings, on her inner bicep.
“I’m defense, number 4, and I’m basically the star of the team.”
“Really?” You laugh, pressing your thigh against hers. “Would your other teammates agree with that?”
“Ehhh, maybe don’t ask them so you stay all impressed.”
You smile, and suddenly you realize you’ve been smiling all night ever since you started talking to her. And it feels so good to smile with her, it feels so good to be all giddy, and even when Dylan was bothering you it felt good knowing she was right behind you. And it felt even better when you turned around and she was still behind you.
“Can I have your number?” You blurt out.
“Course, baby.”
You hand her your phone, feeling like a damn middle schooler with a raging crush, and she hands you hers.
You make your contact name Jersey Stealer and she laughs when she sees it, and that sound might be your favorite thing about her- second only to her abs.
You can feel the night coming to the end, but it’s a good end, a comfortable one, and there’s definitely doors unopened and words unsaid. It feels like a really sweet beginning to something really beautiful.
You check your phone, smiling at the contact name of Hockey Star and seeing the time is 11:58.
“My friends are waiting for me,” you say, almost with a grimace. The night is coming to an end but you still don’t want it to end. And like clockwork, you watch as Jackie and Tyla walk out of the party arm in arm- sneaking subtle glances all the way to the end of the driveway, eventually disappearing out of sight behind a tree.
“Oh,” she says. “No problem.”
She sounds disappointed. It makes your stomach twist yet again, to know she doesn’t want this to end as much as you do.
You both stand up and walk to the edge of the porch, down the steps and onto the concrete walkway to the driveway. Somewhere along the way, your hand had slipped into yours.
You stop where concrete meets driveway, turning around to face her. She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the feeling of her skin on yours. It feels like an electric rush, like an addictive high.
“I’m really glad I give you a concussion.”
You laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t either.”
She looks from your lips back to your eyes, and you’re suddenly reminded that, yes, kissing exists- and you suddenly want to kiss her. Badly.
Fuck.
“Okay, well, I’ll let you go.”
You softly place your hand on her face. You lean forward, placing your lips in a grey area between her cheek and her lips.
“Goodnight, Caroline,” you whisper, an inch away from her skin.
Suddenly she surges forward, lips fully pressing against yours, hand on your waist, and God does the feeling of her lips on yours feel so good, so right.
Oh, God. She’s succeeded in killing you, you think to yourself- everything fading out for a moment before it all comes rushing back in. The sounds of the party, the chill of the nighttime air, and the sweet sweet feeling of Caroline’s lips on yours.
You don’t think your lips will ever recover from this feeling, from the weight of her lips on yours- you’ll always be chasing this feeling, this moment.
Tyla’s words flash in your mind. You revel in this moment for a heartbeat longer until, just as quick as she kissed you, you pull back.
“Didn’t know you were the type to kiss girls on the first date, Harvey. How scandalous.”
She seems disappointed you pulled away. You can see it in her pretty blue eyes- it makes you feel like you’re on top of the world.
“Are you really just any girl?”
“Nope,” you smile, silently thanking Tyla and every star in the sky- you can see it in her eyes, the way she wants to kiss you senseless, and if the game didn’t feel so good you would have let her.
And the way she’s looking at you, slightly blown away, completely in awe, lips parted but curling into a smile- it gives you an addictive rush.
“Text me when you want your jersey back.”
You take a step back, softly prying her hand off of your waist, but holding onto it for a moment.
“Oh, no, you can wear that to my next game.”
“Really?” You smile, fingertips grazing the back of her knuckles as she tries to hold onto you, but you eventually let go. “You’ll save me a good seat?”
“The best seat,” she corrects. “For the best girl.”
This time, you don’t bother to try and hide the way she makes you feel. You clench your thighs together and let your tongue dart out to slightly lick your lips.
“I’ll be there. You better win, though.” You turn around, then look over your shoulder to see her eyes fall down to your ass.
“With a pretty good luck charm like you? I’ll probably score the winning goal.”
“Bye, Caroline,” you say over your shoulder, smiling so brightly you’re sure you look all lovesick. You can’t care, it’s just how you feel for her. Maybe you should be embarrassed, the way she makes you feel kinda like silly putty in her hands, but it feels so good. So right.
“Bye, Y/N.” Her voice is breathy.
And when you check your phone, you see it’s after midnight. So much for Tyla’s advice.
But, you think to yourself, shoes clicking on concrete and KK’s gaze on your back, you kissed her after midnight- maybe all the good things just happen after midnight.
—-
laila when kk hit her for saying the taking girls down on and off the ice thing: 😞😞😞💔💔💔💔💔
y/n also being happy that she left kk AFTER midnight bc she doesn’t just want her she actually likes her
jackie and tyla wingwoman supremes i love them sm
dylan you are annoying i wish you suffering
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misctf · 29 days ago
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Don't know if you still want requests but I grew up playing good old american football so I naturally have bulked way up and become so big but now I'd like to play soccer. Can you help me get from football bulky to soccer lean?
You jogged back to the side-lines, high-fiving your teammate as they ran out to take your place. The whistle blows, and you watch as the game resumes. If you told your younger self you’d be trying to play soccer, he would’ve laughed. As your dad said, you were born to play American football. And years of training your body left you bulky and muscular. At 6’2” and 230lbs, you’re a beast. But since graduating college a few years ago, you found it hard to get back into football. Most of your colleagues were into soccer and your company’s team played weekly.
“You should play.” Jake from accounting said.
“Nah, not into that kinda stuff.” You initially replied. You weren’t some twinkle-toed foot fairy. You played football. A real sport.
But you eventually caved. You figured you needed some more cardio in your life and connecting with your colleagues a bit more couldn’t be that bad. You just didn’t figure how much you were going to love it. Or how bad you’d be at it. Your coworkers patted you on the back after you failed to complete a pass. They reassured you it was okay when you accidentally scored on your own goal. And you eventually figured you just didn’t have the body or stamina for the sport. But you weren’t a quitter.
You’d never heard of the Jock Exchange Program until an ad popped up on your screen one evening. You read closely, becoming absolutely fascinated. An app that gives athletes the chance to try out a new sport. An for app those who feel they dedicated themselves to the wrong sport. The process is simple. Match with someone and meet at one of their facilities. Easy enough. You set up your profile, snapping a picture that highlights your bulky, muscular form. And after swiping through a few possible swaps, you match. The guy’s name is Dylan. Just turned 19, blond, lean, and played soccer all his life. He’s a bit young, but he reassures you he’s okay aging up a bit if it means he gets a chance at playing American football.
And a few day later, you’re at the facility. It was the first time you met Dylan. He was certainly shorter and younger than you. A confident, cocky grin etched on his face. You agreed to a 1 month swap, just to see how it goes. You and Dylan sign the papers. And before you knew it, electrodes were hooked up to your head. And then everything went black.
When you awoke, the world around you felt a big larger. You raised your hand and gasped. It was smaller, hairless. The skin young and not weathered by the years. You grab a mirror and look closely at your handsome face, blond hair, and tanned skin. You can’t help but chuckle. It felt so odd. So foreign. Yet it was yours all the same. You eventually got ready and said goodbye to Dylan, who was clearly enjoying his new larger frame. And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back at your old body. You were never much of a narcissist, but god you looked good. You blushed when you felt your new cock chub up a bit. Returning home, you had the chance to really appreciate your new form. The lean, hairless muscle a far cry from your bulkier form. The confident, cocky smirk reminded you of all those asshole jocks you used to play with. This kid probably got a lot of action, you figured.
The next few days were largely normal. You went to work, having to explain to everyone your situation. But afterwards, you had the chance to really shine on the soccer field. Your lean form moving expertly, performing moves you didn’t even know were possible. Jake comes up to you afterwards, slapping you on the back and commending your new skills. And again, the oddest feeling passes through you. When did Jake get so attractive? I mean, he was a good looking guy. Just out of college- really gorgeous smile. And his stubble was a sexy addition to his chiseled face. You even notice the sweat dripping down his shirt. And his manly musk causes your dick to stir. You never had thoughts like that before, yet all you could do was stare dreamily at him.
“Hey, you good?”
“Uh yeah, bro.” You say, “I...” You pause and give him a confident smirk, “Just wondering what you’re doing after this, man.” You say. Images of him fucking you cross your mind and you’re lost in a horny daze, “Wanna head back to my place?”   
He gives you an odd look and asks if you’re okay. Using a name that you don’t think quite sounds right.
“Uh, name’s Dylan.” You say. He raises an eyebrow and in that moment, you snap back to reality, “Oh shit, uh sorry Jake. I need to go!”  You quickly part ways, your mind trying to make sense of what just happened. Just a blip, you figure, nothing to worry about.
But as the days continue to pass, you’re starting to recognize these issues aren’t improving. Your performance at work declines. Tasks you knew how to do with ease are taking much longer and are done incorrectly. At the same time, you’re constantly horny. The hormones raging in this younger body- consuming your every focus. And one night, while you’re browsing porn sites, you realize straight porn isn’t doing it for you. Without much thought, you navigate to a gay porn site you know you’d never heard of, and find a video. And for the first time, you jerk off to gay porn, moaning the entire time. Completely lost in the bliss.
The next day, you don’t even go into work. In fact, you don’t really recall what you do for work. Weren’t you in college? And who’s apartment was this? But a voice is telling you this isn’t right. You can barely recall aspects of your old life. And you realize in terror that these thoughts aren’t your own. You quickly call the help desk for the Jock Exchange Program and tell them what’s been going on.
“That was part of the risks, sir.” They say, “Sometimes, remnants of the old person’s mind remain. And in some cases, will overwrite the host.” They clear their voice, "Not to alarm you, but once an overwrite occurs, it may be impossible to rectify."
“Overwrite? Impossible?” You ask, the panic in your voice evident, “How do I stop this?”
“We can initiate an emergent transfer back to your old body. Can you tell us your name?”
“Dylan Conners.” You say, shaking your head, “No, it’s Dylan Conners.” Your eyes widen and you realize you can’t even remember your old name. In a panic, you hang up the phone.
You need to stop this. You need to... do what? Stop what? You shake your head. And, as you look around the apartment, you feel uncomfortable. This isn’t your place. You don’t even know how you got here. Despite a voice telling you this is your apartment, you flee. You run down the sidewalk and try to make sense of what’s going on. You quickly head to a spot you know all too well: the soccer field. And when you arrive, you take a deep breath. A feeling of comfort washing over you. There’s an abandoned soccer ball and you quickly start to practice. Each move wiping away your worry. Each successful shot on goal removing any doubt that you’re anyone but Dylan Conners. And by the time you’re done, covered in sweat, only Dylan Conners remains. You look down at a text on your phone.
“Hey man, wanted to know if you wanted to prolong this exchange. Got a spot on the team for the rest of the season. And btw, I’m loving this body.”
You chuckle, “Who the fuck is that?” You wonder. You quickly text back, “Sure man, I don’t give a shit.” And close your phone.
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laylaysdelusions · 4 months ago
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Sim wife. (Paige bueckers x reader)
Summary: Paige catches you playing sims with a married version of herself 
“Hey!” Paige(your roommate) says as she walks through the door, putting her gym bag down.
“Hi” you muster up the courage to not sound shy.
Everytime the woman speaks you practically fall to your knees, it’s even more unbearable, considering you live with her. She makes your mouth go dry and your cheeks go slightly pink.
“How was your day?” She asks with her classic grin that makes any fangirl swoon. She’s been in an extra good mood recently.
Ever since the two of you moved in together, as close friends, you’ve been head over heels in love with the blonde. She’s never given you the ick in any way it’s like she’s unrealistically perfect.
You suddenly feel her fingers snap in your face to grab your attention, pausing your daydream.
“Good- it was pretty good” you say way too quickly for your liking. You want to seem calm and collected but damn does she makes it difficult.
As she gets closer you get a better look at her.
She’s wearing basketball shorts that hanging off her hips, revealing the top of her boxers. Her hair is in a low slick back bun. Oh, she looks freaking delicious.
“Oh that’s good I’m happy, what made today so good?” It felt like Paige knew she was teasing you, it was almost like she knew that you couldn’t really answer that.
“Well I hung out with Dylan and Maddy in my room for most of the day” you say while smiling, thinking about the memories with your best friends.
To be honest your best friends poked fun at your debilitating crush on Paige often today, and that was a pretty big part of your conversations with them, but Paige doesn’t have to know that of course.
They were given an even bigger opportunity to say something when they saw that you made Paige in the sims 4 and you married her.
‘Aww she’s too cute’ Maddy put her hand on her heart while looking at Dylan.
You had to jerk yourself back into reality.
“Is something wrong, you seem to be daydreaming a lot” Paige asks.
You assure her you’re just fine and even though she doesn’t really believe you she lets it slip past.
“What’s your plans for tonight?”
“Oh well nothing really just video games” you answer as you’re fighting back the urge to just jump in her arms(or make out with her.)
“Actually I was wondering if you wanted to had a movie night with me like old times? a girls night?”
“Sorry Paige I need alone time to unwind, you know how draining Dylan and Maddy can be from time to time” she sighs and rolls eyes at you.
“Why have you so been so introverted around me recently?” She looks at you with a questioning voice
You try to breathe and stay calm. There’s no way you can sit next to her for two hours or longer while still containing your feelings, especially since your ovulating.
“Just a little more reserved nothing to worry about” you say quietly before speed walking to your room.
“Shit..i just made an absolute fool out of myself” you whisper while having a big pout on your face.
While you’re sitting on a self hate train you decide to self soothe by playing with your imaginary world of sims. You pull up your save file and begin playing.
Not long after you heard Paige knock on your door.
“Um hey I got you pizza I thought you might be hungry”
“Thank you” you say with a sheepish smile
“Hey are you playing the sims?” Paige laughs.
Uh oh. You hoped and prayed she wouldn’t notice the sims you made.
“Y-yeah” you mentally facepalm at your stutter.
“I used to play this game with my friends all the time, throw back” Paige says amused.
What you didn’t realize is that Paige found it adorable and she wasn’t judging you whatsoever. She thinks you’re pretty damn cute.
The screen accidentally moves around a your sim self appears.
“Oh gosh is that you?”
You nod.
“She has your facial features and mannerisms down perfectly, are you married in here?” She sounds eager to see save file but you’re not willing to show her considering her name is in there.
“M-mhm” you say not wanting to lie, you want her to like you and that means being honest and likable in everything.
“Can I see?”
“No..”
“Why not?” She looks puzzled but still amused.
“Come on sweetheart just let me see it’s not that serious it’s not like I’m gonna judge a sim” she playfully rolls her eyes.
The pet name didn’t slip past you. Your face flushed and your knees went weak.
Paige’s hand overrides yours on the keyboard and she sees your sim wife.
“Paige bueckers is your sim wife hm?” She says with a smiles and her eyebrows move.
You’re frozen and no words can come out.
“I didn’t know my princess of a roommate had that big of a crush”
“Look- I’m sorry can we pretend this never happened” you say, so embarrassed.
She leans down to your ear and whispers.
“Don’t worry I like you too”
Relief and flustered emotions come over you. Does she really or is she just messing with you?
“Yes, really” Paige says almost as if she could read your mind.
“I see the way you peek down the hallway to get a glimpse of me or how your cheeks are pink when we make eye contact, I’ve been doing the same thing for a while now honey you’re oblivious”.
“So this means..we can be date?”
“Well yeah I was gonna ask you to be my girlfriend, what do you think?”
“Yes!” You say extremely fast.
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lemoncrushh · 5 months ago
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Claiming His Territory
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Summary: Harry gets jealous when he thinks another guy fancies you, and he decides to claim his territory.
Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, possessiveness, angst. 18+ ONLY!
Word Count: 4960
A/N: Here's another one shot from my 2016 collection. This was originally two parts, but I've combined them into one. Obviously, this is 1D Harry, and you're spending time with him on tour.
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"Hey, Y/N," you heard a voice behind you say.
You quickly twirled around to see Dylan, the new drum tech, a huge grin on his face. He was carrying pieces of the drum kit as he was apparently making his way to the stage to set it up.
"Hey, you need some help with that?" you asked him, reaching for a cymbal that was slowly slipping from under his arm.
"Thanks," Dylan nodded sheepishly.
With a giggle, you took the cymbal from him and followed him through the backstage area. Your breath hitched in your throat as you stepped onto the stage and looked out at the empty seats. You'd seen this view a few times with Harry when you would come visit him on tour, but it never ceased to take your breath away. You still didn't know how he managed to face that many people night after night.
"You can just set that right there," directed Dylan, pointing at the floor next to the toms.
"Oh, okay."
"So how long have you been with One Direction?" asked Dylan as he adjusted the bass drum where he wanted it, a lock of his long blond hair falling over his right eye. You had already admitted to yourself a couple days ago when you'd first met that he was cute. And the way he smiled at you gave you goosebumps. But you were with Harry...
"Y/N," Dylan suddenly said, making you blink.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Dylan chuckled. "Is this your first tour with them?"
Finally understanding what he was asking you, you laughed and shook your head. "I don't work for them," you explained. "I'm not part of the crew."
"Oh!" exclaimed Dylan. "I just always see you in the hall helping somebody, I thought-"
"Heyyyy there you are!" a familiar voice sounded behind you. Before you could turn around, Harry had is arms wrapped around you, his lips on your jaw. "Been lookin' everywhere for you."
You swallowed hard as Harry's mouth trailed to your ear. "Um, I was just helping Dylan with the drums."
"Who's Dyl- oh, hey mate," said Harry, acknowledging the young man's presence.
Dylan jerked his head up with a curt nod, clearly now understanding that you were indeed not part of the crew, but Harry Styles' girlfriend. He fumbled with the hi-hat stand, nearly toppling it over when Harry grabbed your butt and you let out a squeal.
"Stop," you giggled, though you leaned back against him. "We're not alone, baby."
"Then let's go be alone," he murmured in your ear.
You rolled your eyes and looked over at Dylan just as Harry began to pull you back by your arm. "See ya, Dylan."
"Yeah, sure," he nodded again.
You kind of felt bad for the guy, but you didn't have time to dwell on it as Harry jogged down the hall, taking you with him. Finally pushing open a heavy black door, he pulled you inside, locking it behind you.
"I reckon somebody has a crush on my girl," Harry smirked, sliding his hands up your waist and back down.
"Oh please," you scoffed. "He was just being friendly. And I offered to help him with the drums."
"I could see the way he looked at you, love. His eyes said it all."
"I don't think he knew I was with you," you muttered as Harry's mouth found your jaw again and he backed you into the wall.
"Well, then, let's show him so he knows."
"What do you mean?" you teased.
"I mean 'm gonna leave my mark. To show you're mine." Harry lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with fire in them. "C'mere."
Harry guided you to the nearby sofa where he pounced on you. You giggled with glee as you playfully pawed at him, helping him remove his t-shirt followed by your own.
"Tell me where," you hissed as Harry swiped his tongue across your collarbone, unclasping your bra with one hand.
"Where what, baby?" he mumbled.
"Where you're gonna leave your mark."
A deep growl rose from Harry's chest as he lifted himself up to look at you. Dropping your bra on the floor and lightly dragging his finger across your neck he whispered "here...", then he did the same down your shoulder and collarbone, "here...and here...", finally dragging it to your breast. "And here..."
"Mmmm," you sounded, reaching for him and eager for him to get started.
Devouring your neck, Harry sucked hard, the blood rising to the surface quickly. The sting only made you want more as you hastily unbuttoned his jeans for him. But Harry wasn't finished claiming his territory just yet. You clawed at his arms as he slid down to wet the top of your chest with his tongue. Leaving his next mark, you arched your back with a moan.
"Harry..." you said breathlessly. "Touch me. Please."
"Where baby?" he asked. "Right here?"
Grazing his thumb across your right nipple, Harry took your left one into his mouth, swirling his tongue across it. You let out a kitten-like cry before saying his name again. Reaching for his hand, you guided it where you wanted it between your legs.
"Ah, right there?" Harry teased as he rubbed you over your jeans. "'s that where you wanna be touched, baby?"
"Mmm hmm," you nodded with a pout.
"Then let's get these off, yeah?" he raised a brow, quickly unbuttoning your jeans.
You kicked off your shoes just in time for him to slip off your pants and underwear, leaving your naked body trembling underneath him.
"So pretty," Harry murmured, swiping his fingers up your slit. "And always so wet for me."
You nodded with a shy smile.
"This is mine, innit?" he added as you opened your legs wider.
"Yes," you replied.
"Yeah," he nodded, licking his lips.
With his free hand, Harry managed to push down his already open jeans, freeing his erection. You blinked at the sight of it, though you'd already seen it several times. Removing his fingers from your wetness momentarily, he produced a condom from his pocket and rolled it on.
"You ready for me, love?" he inquired, positioning himself between your thighs.
"Always," you said.
Harry smirked as he pushed in slowly. "Yeah ya are. Always ready. And so warm. Fuck."
His eyelids heavy, he began to thrust deep inside so you could feel all of him, stretching you to fit around him. Tiny mewls escaped your mouth as you grasped at his shoulders.
"God damn, I love the sounds you make," groaned Harry. "So fucking sexy."
Biting your bottom lip, you reached above your head to grab hold of the armrest. Then you lifted your leg up against the back of the sofa. Harry tried his best to focus on your face while he pumped, his perfect mouth open.
"You're mine, yeah?" he breathed.
You nodded. "Yes."
"Yeah. Nobody else's. All mine."
You weren't really sure where this possessiveness had come from, but you kind of liked it. You liked being Harry's. And the idea he was claiming you turned you on.
Harry lowered his head again, nibbling on your neck and sliding down to suck another tender spot, no doubt leaving another mark. You heard him moan against your skin as he thrust harder and faster. You felt yourself reach the edge, a deep rumbling in your core.
"Fuck, Harry..." you cried.
"You gonna come for me?" he asked, lifting his head to look at you again.
You nodded, your eyes wide. Hard breaths puffed out of your mouth as you grabbed his hips, guiding him deeper.
"Right there," you instructed.
Harry covered your mouth with his, slipping his tongue inside to meet yours. You felt your orgasm rip through you then as you moaned against his lips. Harry bit your bottom lip, dragging his teeth across it before releasing it. His eyes looked wild as he stared at you. You could tell he was close.
"Does it feel good?" you asked him.
"Fuck yeah, baby. That pussy's so wet and all mine."
You grinned at him. "Yes, Harry. Take it, baby."
Harry shut his eyes as he let out a quick chuckle and licked his lips. With two more thrusts he was moaning your name as he came.
You laid on the couch together for a few minutes while you tried to wait for your breaths to even out. Suddenly you heard a soft pout before you felt a wetness on your neck. Realizing Harry was licking your skin, you giggled.
"What are you doing?"
"I think I mighta got a bit carried away," he replied.
"How many are there?" you inquired.
"Um...like five?"
Your chest shook with laughter as Harry sat up. "Sorry, babe."
"I'm sure it's fine," you commented.
Harry excused himself to the restroom while you sat up and got dressed. When you stood, you walked over to a nearby mirror to inspect Harry's work. Five might have been an exaggeration, but he'd definitely left his mark on you. One particular love bite almost covered the entire left side of your neck.
"Jesus," you muttered, covering it with your hand.
"Told you," you heard Harry say behind you.
You turned to face him with a shrug. "Well you definitely got your point across."
"Are you mad?" he asked hesitantly.
"No," you shook your head, walking around him toward the bathroom.
"You sure?"
You waved your hand above your head, not bothering to turn around. "It's fine."
Shutting the door behind you, you inspected your neck and shoulders better in the bathroom mirror. You weren't exactly sure why, but the sight unnerved you. Harry wasn't known to be the jealous type. So maybe he had just been playing. Or maybe it was just the adrenaline and the height of passion that made him so animalistic. Even during the sex, you hadn't thought anything was out of the ordinary. But thinking about it now, and looking at the evidence, it sure seemed like Harry had been trying to prove something.
Was he really upset about you talking to Dylan? Had he truly had a problem with the way he looked at you? You honestly hadn't noticed anything, other than the fact that he was cute. But it wasn't like he'd been flirting, and neither had you.
What had suddenly made Harry want to be so possessive and claim his territory?
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Opening the bathroom door, you stepped back into the dressing room. Harry sat on the sofa, but you barely looked at him. Instead you made your way to the exit.
"Where are you going?" you heard him ask.
"Gonna try to find a scarf or something," you replied.
"So ya are mad," remarked Harry.
"I didn't say I was mad. Did I say that?" you jerked around, your hands on your hips.
"Your tone says you're mad."
"So I have a tone now?"
Harry groaned, running a hand down his face. "Babe, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
You sighed loudly, dropping your arms. "I said it's fine, Harry. I'm not mad. It's just kind of embarrassing is all."
Harry glared at you with a set jaw. Grabbing the doorknob, you swung the heavy door open.
"I gotta go find something. I'll be back," you announced.
You made your way outside to the tour buses, stepping onto the one you'd arrived on, quickly finding your suitcase. You hadn't remembered packing any scarves, and coming up empty handed confirmed it. The next best thing was your favorite hoodie, a pink one from Victoria's Secret which didn't match your outfit, but it would have to do. Slipping it on and zipping it up, you pulled your hair over your neck and shoulders, trying your best to cover what the hoodie didn't.
Okay, so you were mad. Maybe mad wasn't the right word. Just...irritated. Perturbed. But you knew it was partially your own fault. You'd certainly had a part in Harry's assault on your skin, hell you'd even egged him on, asking where he was planning on marking you. But now you felt weird about it...almost dirty.
But what bothered you the most was that he'd done it after seeing you talking to another guy. A guy whom you paid no mind to. You thought Dylan was cute, but that was as far as it went. And Harry had never been the jealous type.
Stepping off the bus, you returned to the venue where the activity had picked up and the hallway was more crowded than before. Harry's dressing room was now empty, and for a moment you considered just sitting alone for a while until you heard your name called.
"Hey, Dylan," you said softly when you saw him coming towards you.
"Hey, um, sorry about earlier," he muttered.
"What for?"
"You know...um...I didn't know that you were...with Harry."
"Oh," you looked down at your hands. "It's okay."
"I guess maybe I should keep track of who's with whom," he grinned sheepishly.
You gazed back up at him, shaking your head. "You can't be expected to know. Besides, it's not like you were flirting with me or anything. I was just helping you with the drums."
Dylan chuckled, that same strand of blonde falling over his eye again. "Yeah, sure," he nodded. Then leaning in closer, he whispered, "Maybe I kinda was."
Biting your lip, you felt yourself blush. You weren't quite sure how to respond to that. Since being with Harry, guys hadn't been flirting with you. Or if they had, you sure as hell hadn't noticed.
"Um...okay," you muttered, absentmindedly combing your hair behind your ear. That's when you noticed Dylan's eyes widen.
"Whoa!" he exclaimed, stepping back.
"What?" you asked a millisecond before you realized. He'd seen the marks.
"Guess he wasn't kiddin'," said Dylan, pointing at your neck.
Ashamed, you tilted your head and pulled your hair back over to hide Harry's love bites.
"He told me you were his," Dylan added, "But I guess he wants everyone to be aware."
You furrowed your brows. "Wait, you talked to him?"
Dylan shrugged. "If you could call it that. I didn't get much say in the matter. He just came up to me a minute ago and said, 'just so you know...Y/N is mine.' And he walked off. I didn't really take it as a threat then but..."
Your shoulders fell and your mouth went dry.
"Guess he's claimed his territory," Dylan finished before walking off, leaving you standing dumbfounded in the hallway.
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"Hey, doll," greeted Lou when you entered the room designated for hair and makeup. Liam had just left the room with a short wave of his hand, and you were grateful to find it empty now except for her.
"Hi," you barely mumbled as you sunk into a chair.
"Something wrong?" she inquired as she returned a makeup brush to its caddy.
With a long sigh, you pushed your hair back to reveal the hickeys on your neck and shoulder.
"Bloody hell!" exclaimed Lou.
You groaned. "Help."
"Were you snogging all day? What-"
"Never mind," you got up to leave, but Lou called you back.
"I'm sorry, love, c'mere. I think I have something to cover it."
You sat back in the chair and Lou got to work putting makeup on your neck, at least the areas that were most exposed. You focused on the various cosmetics on the counter so you wouldn't have to look at her face, knowing it was probably full of shame. You appreciated her silence, however, until she finally said you were good to go.
"Thanks," you muttered as you stood, still pulling your hoodie tight around you just in case.
"Y/N," you heard Lou call as you reached the door. You turned to look at her. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah," you nodded.
"Alright," she sighed. "Just know that I'm here if you ever need to chat. And anything you say never leaves this room, you hear?"
You smiled softly at her. "Thanks, Lou."
You'd just rounded the corner when a tall frame nearly bumped into you.
"Hey! Was looking for you," said Harry. "Did you find something?"
"Um...yeah," you stammered, licking your lips, grabbing the zipper pull of your hoodie and moving it up and down. "Lou helped me out with some makeup."
"Oh, right," he nodded. "Good."
"Harry, we need to talk," you gazed up at him.
He furrowed his brows, looking past you. "Show's about to start, babe."
"What did you say to Dylan?" you asked, ignoring his words.
Harry's eyes darted everywhere but at your own which told you all you needed to know. But you still wanted to hear it from his lips.
"Harry..."
"I just told him you were mine."
"Did you threaten him?"
Harry finally looked at your face, shaking his head. "No, not at all. I just wanted to make sure he knew you were taken."
"Harry, he wasn't even doing anything," you scoffed. "We were just talking. For like five minutes!"
"I've seen the way he looks at you," declared Harry in an accusing tone.
You rolled your eyes. "How does he look at me?"
"Like how I look at you!" he exclaimed.
You threw up your hands. "So fucking what?"
"I don't like it," Harry's voice dropped so low you barely heard his reply.
"Harry, what the hell is going on? You've never acted jealous before."
Harry stood up straight, his chest puffing out as he crossed his arms. "Do I have a reason to be jealous?"
Your mouth opened to retort, but you stopped. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Harry never acted like this. Never.
"You're unbelievable," you shook your head and turned to walk away. "We'll talk about this later."
"Hey, you're the one who said we needed to talk now," you felt his hand on your arm. You shook it off.
"We're not talking about this now!" you yelled through clenched teeth. You held your hands up in front of you. "I need to calm down, and you have a show to do."
"Y/N," said Harry, his tone softer now.
"Go," you pointed to the backstage area. "Your fans are waiting."
You felt the bile rise in your throat as tears threatened to release from your eyes. Turning once again, you zig zagged through the crowd whom no doubt had heard at least some of your squabble.
"Hey, doll," Lou stopped you. "You coming to sit with me?"
"Not yet," you blinked. "I need to be alone for a minute."
Without another word, Lou merely nodded, patting your arm before making her way to the family seats. You walked to Harry's dressing room, immediately locking the door behind you and lying on the sofa, finally allowing the tears to fall.
You didn't understand it. You tried your best to recall the evening's events that had let up to this. Just an hour ago you were on this same sofa as Harry fucked you, sucking on your neck and telling you how you were his. You'd liked it, his possessiveness as he claimed what was his. But the marks had left you feeling uneasy, and then to find out he actually did have a problem with Dylan...it made you wanna throw up. The look in his eyes when he asked if he had a reason to be jealous sent you over the edge. You were hurt and angry at the same time. This...this was not the Harry you knew. This was someone else.
Despite the noise on the other side of the door, you somehow managed to cry yourself to sleep. When you woke up, you sat up, realizing the concert still had half an hour left. Wiping your eyes, you used the restroom and emerged from the dressing room. You were halfway down the hall when you spotted Dylan. With an uneasy smile, you walked up to him.
"Hi," you greeted.
"I don't think you're supposed to be talking to me," he proclaimed.
You rolled your eyes and folded your arms across your chest. "What the fuck ever." Another tear escaped your eye and rolled down your cheek. As you swiped it away with the back of your hand, Dylan stepped closer to you.
"Hey," he said softly. "I was just joking."
"I know," you sniffed.
"You okay?"
"No," you replied quickly, looking up at him. "No, I'm definitely not okay."
"You wanna go somewhere and talk?"
The sounds of cheering fans and the boys singing "Story of My Life" seemed miles away.
"Yeah," you sighed, running your fingers through your hair. "But can we talk about something else? Anything else?"
Dylan grinned. "You bet. C'mon."
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You sat alone on the bus, waiting for Harry. You'd decided to wait for him there instead of his dressing room. You knew he was more than likely going to be mad, or at least a little confused as to why you hadn't gone to watch the show. So, you figured you'd give him some time to cool down, take a shower and get dressed before meeting you on the bus.
After talking to Dylan, you felt a little better. He was really nice and funny and took your mind off of everything. You hoped that you could talk to Harry and assure him that you were his and he had no cause to be jealous. But when he stepped onto the bus and you caught the look on his face, you knew that had been too much to ask.
"Hey," you whispered.
With a scowl, Harry walked right past you without so much as a nod. You watched him as he headed toward the back of the bus.
"Harry..." you sounded.
Nothing. He was ignoring you. You had to admit that hurt even worse.
"Harry, talk to me please," you called.
"Oh, so now you wanna talk?" he jerked around, a horrible mean look on his face.
"Yes."
His jaw set, he closed the space between you swiftly. "Why didn't you come to watch the show?"
"Because I was upset," you replied. "I didn't feel like it."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Didn't feel like it. What were you doing?"
Stepping back, you shoved your hands in the pockets of your hoodie. "Nothing. I went to sleep in your dressing room."
Harry nodded slowly, an accusing look in his eyes. "Right."
Almost feeling frightened, you glared at him. "Harry, what the fuck is going on?"
"Why don't you tell me? One minute you're moaning my name, begging me to touch you, and the next you're embarrassed by me."
"How dare you turn this around on me! I'm not the jealous one here!" you yelled.
"I'm not bloody jealous, Y/N! You think I'm jealous of that twat?"
"Why else did you make such a point of leaving so many hickeys on me?"
"I told you got carried away!" Harry exclaimed. "I didn't mean to."
"Did you mean to go up to Dylan afterwards and threaten him?" you asked.
"I-" Harry glared at you. "Did he tell you that?"
"No," you looked down at your hands. "He just said you came up to him and told him I'm yours, and-"
"So you talked to him." It was a statement, not a question. A statement and an accusation.
"Harry, I think I can talk to whomever I choose. And you're being a little ridiculous."
"Ridiculous?" Harry raised his brows.
"Yeah. And frankly, a bit scary if I'm being honest. I don't know what's gotten into you."
"Fuck!" Harry turned his back on you, his fists at his sides as he walked to the back of the bus.
Trying to keep your calm, you took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Just then Niall stepped onto the bus behind you.
"Um...everythin' okay?" he inquired.
"Yeah," you bit your lip, stepping back to allow him to pass.
"Ya sure?"
About to nod, Harry turned around an answered for you. "Apparently showing your girlfriend how sexy you think she is and how proud you are to be fucking her pussy isn't allowed."
Your bottom lip trembling, you stared at Harry for a moment. "Fuck you."
"Whoa," Niall muttered as you stomped off the bus.
You could hear Harry calling after you as you ran toward the venue, but you didn't bother to turn around. Liam was just exiting the back door and Louis was halfway towards the bus, both of them stopping in their tracks to watch the scene unfold.
"Y/N!" Harry shouted. "Wait!"
"Leave me alone!" you screamed as you neared the door. "I wish we never met!"
You didn't look back as you continued to run through the hall. You stopped only when you saw Dylan emerge from behind the stage, drum pieces in his hands. Your chest heaving, you swallowed hard. Your eyes met, but you remained silent. Instead you turned toward the makeup room, finding Lou packing the rest of her products.
"Jesus, what's wrong, doll?" she asked when she saw your wild eyes.
Your knees buckling, you broke down right there. Lou reached her arms out to embrace you, allowing you to cry on her shoulder. You stayed in that position for a long time, your body shaking as you cried over and over. Lou rubbed your back, told you to let it out, and that everything was gonna be okay.
"Baby..." you suddenly heard behind you.
"Go away," you mumbled in Lou's shirt.
"Baby, I didn't mean it," said Harry. "God, you know how I feel about you."
Still keeping your back to him, you lifted your head to look at Lou. She had a kind expression on her face, silently urging you to listen to him.
"Don't you?" Harry sounded. You could tell he was closer. "Please say you do. Baby, I'm crazy about you."
Shutting your eyes, you scoffed. "Crazy about sums it up."
"I know. I deserve that."
You wiped your eyes as Lou released you from her grasp and turned you around. Harry had a somber look in his eyes, his body slack from defeat.
"I can't excuse the way I've acted," he said softly. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never felt like this before."
"Like what?" you asked.
"Jealous," Harry shrugged. Then he let out a slight chuckle. "Fuck me, I'm jealous. And I don't know why."
"I don't know why either, Harry. There's absolutely no reason to be jealous. I barely know that guy. And until tonight he didn't even know I wasn't part of the crew let alone your girlfriend."
Harry hung his head. "I realize that. I honestly don't know what got into me. At first I-"
Harry lifted his head then, and you heard Lou clear her throat behind you. "Let me just get this," she said, grabbing her makeup caddies. Once she left the room, Harry turned back to you.
"At first I thought it was just kinda hot, you know me claiming my territory, showing that kid - and everyone else - you belong to me. But once I was inside you...it was like something happened, some switch went off and I couldn't stop. And you were loving it too, begging me. Like I said...I got carried away. Then I could tell you were embarrassed by the marks and I'll admit, it made me mad. I didn't want you to be embarrassed. I wanted you to be proud and flaunt it in front of his face. Like 'fuck yeah, my man fucks me good'."
"Harry..." you scoffed, rolling your eyes.
"I know, it sounds stupid now. But that's what was in my head then."
Licking your lips, you looked down at the floor and then back up at him. "You scared me."
"When?"
"On the bus. I've never seen you like that. I've never seen you like...any of this," you shook your head. "It's frightening, and I don't like it."
"I know, love," Harry reached for your hands. "I don't like it either. But I swear, I didn't mean what I said."
"I know," you replied softly.
"I'm hoping you didn't mean what you said either. That you wish we never met."
You sighed. "Of course I didn't, Harry. I just..."
"You just what?"
"I just..." you released your hands from his and combed a hand through your hair. "I think maybe we should cool it for a little while."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm gonna go on home earlier than I planned. I'll ask Lou if I can stay with her til tomorrow. I'm sure there's a flight I can take."
"Baby..." Harry tried to reach for you again.
You bit your lip and held up your hand. "Please, Harry. I think...I think it's best. For right now. I'll come back later. If you still want me."
"Of course I want you, Y/N. I want you now! With me!"
Covering his mouth with your finger, you silenced him. Then dropping your hand, you placed a soft kiss on his lips. "It's gonna be okay," you murmured.
"Not without you," he pouted.
You mustered up your best smile as you dragged the backs of your fingers down his cheek, then squeezed his arm. "Goodnight."
Turning on your heels, you headed back down the hall to the exit doors. You were halfway there when Harry called your name once again. Stopping, your turned around to see him standing in the middle of the hall.
"I love you," he declared.
You sucked in your lips as your insides trembled. He'd never said it before.
"I love you, too," you echoed before blowing him a kiss and walking out of the venue.
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Sorry about that sad ending. I don't really remember why I decided to end it that way lol. I guess I felt more realistic with all the angst than to give it a happy ending. Also, the "I wish we never met" line was a prompt I'd received so I threw it into this story. It's pretty harsh, I know. Hope you enjoyed anyway.
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thedepthsoffandomminds · 8 months ago
Text
Behind the scenes - Maze runner
This is a companion piece with this fic.
(Newt) Thomas Broadie-sangster X reader. Slow burn.
Two requests that I have joined together.
Reader and Thomas could both be actors working on the same project (maybe Maze Runner). Maybe they don't really like each other at the beginning, but they have to go to a special event with the whole cast and Thomas notices that reader is uncomfortable in big crowds and he kind of starts protecting reader.
After you finish Newt x Reader do you think you can make Bloopers?😂 Of course behind the scenes/off-set TBS and Y/N are a couple
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You stood beside Ki Hong as he tried to say his lines, but Dylan continued to pull silly faces behind the camera making you all laugh. Four takes later and you hear Wes telling him off which causes you all to laugh again.
Blake (who plays Chuck) is holding a pile of blankets and “Greenie” equipment below the watchtower. He lifts his hand to wave, calling out his line,
“Hey Alby!” The metal bowls and cutlery begin to fall and he tries to catch them. Though he tries to recover the blankets drop and become too heavy in one arm, more and more of the props drop to the grass. Eventually Blake gives up and just shrugs. Your laughter can be heard before you come back into the shot.
You sit between Dylan and Thomas with your backs to a log. It's a night shoot, the first of many to come, and as such you were all feeling a little tired and loopy. The scene was simply, your character and Thomas's would attempt to cheer up Dylan's. The two boys had other ideas and they both began leaning across you making it look like they were about to kiss each other. You give them both a quick flick with your hands when they pull back. Dylan drops his head to your shoulder as he laughs, Thomas, however l, pulls slightly away.
You and Dexter Darden come running into the shot, the camera placed around waist height looking up.
“Newt, what do you see?” Dexter says his line, but you slip on a patch of wet mud and though you grab at Dexter's arm you slide down, hitting the ground. All the boys, camera crew and Wes begin to cackle at your mishap. You stood up as gracefully as you could, but there was definitely a big bruise on your hip that afternoon.
Dylan helped you to hobble about between takes until there was an exchange between him and Thomas. After that Dylan mostly stayed away from you that day.
Most of you stand at the entrance to the maze, as you wait for the scene to begin. Thomas is on your left. You feel Dexter begin to dance beside you, shaking his shoulders and you instantly join in. The tiger playing Mai Mai, shakes her head and starts jumping around you, playfully. Your laughter catches Thomas's attention and he spins his head round to watch you both. A sweet smile crept onto his face.
Dylan is holding a camera in front of him with Ki Hong beside him, they are whispering to the camera.
“Hey, hey look at this,” Dylan turns the camera and quietly sneaks around the door of one of the glade huts. In the middle, on top of a blanket Thomas is lying on his side, reading a book aloud to you. You are stringing together a chord of daisy's that you then place on Thomas' head. His blonde hair and the crown makes him look like a fairy or a grecian god.
“Young love.” Dylan and Ki Hong giggle before rushing away when you notice them there.
In an interview the cast are asked who is more likely to ruin a take and almost everyone points to you.
“Hey!” You protest.
“No, literally you fall over all the time!” Kaya giggles.
“Oh yeah you're right, I have zero balance.” You agree. Dylan pretends to push you causing you to jump and almost fall from your high chair. Luckily Thomas was able to catch your arm and gently push you back into place. Your eyes meet and you share a small smile. The others catch it and a few whispers are exchanged.
The red carpet came, and you walked with the other teenagers. Your confidence was as high as everyone's with the world watching. It was great to spend time with the others again after a short break. As you walked the media line you answered questions they threw at you. For the most part they were all the same until one asked you,
“So, have there been any romances on set?”
“Oh um, no, no-”
As you're talking Dylan and Thomas walk behind you, both of them bent round and kissed you on either side of your face.
“Those two, total bromance.” You laugh.
Next part
@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @afalls14universe
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lukehughescurls · 9 months ago
Text
at long last
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luke hughes x childhood best friend
2k words
Staring up at my childhood best friend I realized two things. One, I could never imagine my life without him in it. Two, I was hopelessly in love with him and there was nothing I could do about it. 
Following Luke to Michigan was a spontaneous choice made one drunken night the summer before our senior year, when Luke looked over at me stating that he couldn't believe I wanted to move to New York for school. Asking how I could go so far from him. In that moment I had made my mind up, I was going to Mich with him and nothing was going to stop me. 
Back to the present moment, we’re currently cuddled up on the couch in the sophomore house living room, Luke talking to his teammates while I observe the party going on around us. Tonight the party was in full swing because Michigan had beat Penn State and Luke had scored four goals meaning the celebration was bound to go all night long. Looking around I notice Ethan, Mark, and Duker staring me down. Luke was too preoccupied talking to Adam and Luca to notice their staring. When I looked over again Ethan had motioned to the kitchen when he and the boys started making their way in. Catching the hint I start getting up before Luke stops me, “Bug where are you going.” Of course I can’t get away without my supposed guard dog noticing, “Just going to get a refill, do you want anything from the kitchen?” Luke shakes his head no and goes back to talking to the Fantilli boys letting me make my escape. 
When I finally made my way into the kitchen the trio was already staring at the door waiting for my arrival, “when are you going to put him out of his misery and tell him you love him.” Dylan exclaimed, leaving me in shock. “Dylan, Luke and I are best friends, nothing more.” My statement made the three boys groan, “Oh come on we all know that's such bullshit, right Mark?” Ethan said while turning to Mark who had been silent, finally opening his mouth to say, “Bug you may not be able to admit it to yourself but it's pretty obvious to the rest of us that you both are hopelessly in love with each other.” Shaking my head and grabbing a seltzer out of the fridge I attempt to walk past the boys unscathed but Mark grabs my arm causing me to look up at him, “Just think about what we’re saying.” I nod before walking back to Luke where I see a pretty blonde sitting where I had previously occupied. Scoffing, I turn back to the three boys saying, “ya he looks so in love with me you guys.” I try escaping back into the kitchen but Luke notices my presence yelling, “Bug! Come meet Sofia.” The pull Luke has on me is massive because I find my feet walking in the direction of the large couch when that's the last place my heart wants to take me. Sofia looks over at me and smiles. Of course her smile is perfect, beaming at me with white straight teeth. When I reach the couch she leaps up giving me a hug exclaiming, “Luke has told me so much about you,” and before I can stop myself I mutter, “oh, well he hasn’t mentioned you.” Watching her smile start to drop I realize my mistake, “That was not meant to come out so rudely ignore me, how do you and Luke know each other?” I ask laughing and shaking my head hoping to diffuse the situation. It clearly works because she starts going on and on about a class the two of them share. 
While Sofia talks I sit and listen with a solemn smile on my face hoping it's passing off as pleasant. Luke starts jumping into the conversation causing me to put my focus upon both of them and all I can see is this picture perfect couple. Sofia with her blonde hair and long tan legs that match perfectly with Lukes height. It dawns on me while sitting there how happy and relaxed Luke seems around Sofia, making me wonder if he’s keeping something from me. If he’s been keeping her a secret. Looking at our friends they all seem pretty comfortable around her, has she been here? Has she slept in his bed with him? The same bed we sit on and talk for hours, do they talk for hours too? Is what we share just limited to friendship? Feeling overwhelmed I interrupt the conversation stating that I need some air. Luke looks over at me with concern written all over his face, so I laugh it off and say, “It’s just so hot in here.” Luke clearly feels comfortable with my answer because he nods his head and says, “Come get me if you need me.” I give him a short nod saying, “Sofia, it was so nice to meet you, hopefully I’ll see you around later on,” She gives me another megawatt smile before nodding her head in response. 
When I finally burst out of the house away from the hoards of people and my best friend who clearly loves someone else I let go of the breath I didn’t realize I was holding onto. It comes out of me shuddering as I lower myself onto the stairs taking deep soothing breaths, jumping when I feel someone rest their hand on my shoulder. Did Luke follow me outside? Looking up I realize it’s Mark, who's wearing a bleak look on his face. I start to frown realizing I must be so naive to believe Luke would follow me out here when he clearly is preoccupied by perfect Sofia. Mark takes a seat next to me on the stairs, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me into his side. “Hey what's got you down? That excuse may have convinced Luke but not me.” Of course he notices, “You’re right, I love him.” I sigh and Mark barks out a laugh saying, “Ya, I know, I’ve known that since the day he introduced me to you.” I start laughing leaning into him more as he starts to rub my arm, “Bug, I really do think he’s in love with you too, we all see how he looks at you it's as if you hung the stars in the sky.” Mark comments “Who knew you were such a romantic marky,” my nickname making him groan, “not the nickname bug, you know I hate that.” Giggling I state “well I’ve been saying it since we were freshman and you haven’t stopped me yet.” I give him a puzzling look and his response is simple, “well I can’t tell you no it’s actually impossible,” making me laugh even harder and Mark joins in. Our laughter is interrupted by the door slamming shut causing us to both turn around. Luke stands by the door looking at us with an imperceptible look on his face, “oh hi Luke, you want to come join us.” I say while patting the space next to me. He rolls his eyes before spitting out, “no you look pretty occupied with Mark, no need for my company.” His tone shocked me, it was venomous. “Anyways I’ll leave you guys to it, I need another drink,” Luke states before stalking back into the house. Mark and I look over at each other, my shock written on my face while Mark has a knowing smile on his face. I go to stand up but Mark stops me, “wait don’t follow him. He clearly needs to cool off.” I nod my head in agreement and settle back into conversation. 
I didn't see Luke until the end of the night. Mark had dragged me back inside a little while after Luke had left and we had been shooting the shit with Ethan. When I do see him he doesn't look like himself. He has a scowl on his face that's causing the room to feel tense and people to avoid eye contact, yet I’m unable to stop looking at him. Feeling my gaze he turns to me and says, “Bug we should go to bed” which is a statement everyone in the room is used to due to Luke and I having frequent sleepovers. Following his long strides up the stairs I start to feel unsure about what's going to happen when Luke closes the door. I’m standing in the center of his room when he starts rummaging through his closet before handing me one of his Michigan t-shirts and turning to close the door. When the door finally shuts I’m still standing there, shirt limp in my hands. “Why are you just standing there?” Luke exclaims, I don’t know if I should stay with him or if I should walk away. Finally finding my voice I tell him “Luke I think I’m going to go home,” gently setting the shirt on the bed and starting to walk past him when he suddenly reaches out and grabs my arm. The hold isn’t tight but it stops my movement turning my head up towards him, I find him staring down at me with an indescribable look on his face until he speaks and everything becomes clear. “Don't bug, please, stay with me” my head feels at war, I know I shouldn’t stay with him especially if he’s dating Sofia, but those puppy dog eyes always win. Before I can stop myself I blurt out, “what about Sofia? How would your girlfriend feel if I slept in the same bed as you,” Luke scoffs rolling his eyes before countering back with “she’s not my girlfriend, unlike you I don’t keep my relationship status a secret from my best friend.” His words run deep. Suddenly the conflict turns to anger, ripping my arm from his grasp I raise my voice and say “what the hell are you talking about Luke” I don’t even blink before he responds with “Mark.” I can’t help but let out a cackle, “Mark, you think I’m with Mark??” He obviously finds my response annoying because his face starts to morph into anger, “he was all over outside of course I think you’re with Mark.” I start to laugh even harder, the laughter sounding manic, “Luke how could I be with Mark when I’m in love with you.” Suddenly everything stops and my face drops. 
The room is completely silent. Luke and I standing still, staring at each other. There’s no way I just said that. My face goes beet red and, with Luke distracted I start to make my escape. I have the door open when a hand pops out of nowhere and shuts it closed again. I can feel his presence behind me but I refuse to turn around and face him. Luke takes care of that for me, grabbing me and physically turning me around himself, “bug I need you to open your eyes,” I shake my head no and Luke prods again, “baby please look at me.” I fold and slowly peel my eyes open, when I finally look at him all I can see on his face is adoration, “can you say that again for me.” I know he’s not mocking me so I say it again “Luke, I’m in love with you,” his face stretches in a wide grin “I love you too pretty girl.” Relief floods my body and I sag into him when he wraps his arms around me. “I’ve been waiting to say that to you since we were 16, can I kiss you please,” I don’t even hesitate before shooting my body upwards, grabbing his face and crashing our lips together. The kiss is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, soft and sweet but fiery all at the same time. His hands wrap around my lower back lifting me to him so he can kiss me deeper. Poking his tongue into my mouth I let him take the lead as he walked us back to his bed and sat down on the edge with me on his lap. His lips start to trail down my neck sucking and kissing everywhere he can touch, he finds my sweet spot causing a breathy whimper to escape my lips. Yanking his face back to mine I give him one more long peck before pulling away and staring into his eyes. I grin down at him before tucking myself into his neck and snuggling close. He kisses the top of my head before saying, “Why didn’t we do that sooner?” I snort before responding, “I have no idea but there’s no way in hell I’m stopping now.” Luke hums in agreement before standing up and heading into his bathroom with me trailing behind me. We get ready for bed in silence and Luke somehow manages to stay wrapped up in me while we do our nightly routines together. 
Crawling into bed, Luke is quick to follow me, slipping into his side and pulling me to his chest. I snuggle into him as he drags his hand up and down my arm. Breathing deeply I let sleep overtake me while my thoughts are all about the man I’m in bed with. Next thing I know there’s bright light shining into my face, letting out a groan I slowly blink my eyes open and look around. When I look down I see an arm sprawled against my stomach and a hand resting over my boob. Smiling, I shake my head and quietly laugh at Lukes hold on me while I reach for my phone, my movement causing Luke to stir. “Mmmm go to sleep its early,” my sleepy boy grumbles before pulling me to him and sticking his face in my neck. I laugh louder now, amused by his antics before looking at the time, deciding it is in fact early I place a kiss on top of his curl before pulling the blanket closer to us. Luke clearly falls back asleep because I can feel his little puffs of air hit my neck making me squirm a little. Unable to close my eyes I find myself staring at my beautiful boy in complete disbelief that last night happened. Luke loves me, he loves the girl who cried when she fell in the mud in third grade, the girl who refused to wear skirts until the age of ten because she wanted to fit in with the boys, the girl who knew she loved him the minute he told her she was his good luck charm. Time goes by and I start to feel Luke kiss my neck before looking up at me and saying, “good morning baby,” in his sexy morning voice. My face starts to flush but I say good morning back before getting up to go make coffee. Luke whines but lets me walk out the door and down the stairs, where I find no one else awake. As I’m standing in the kitchen waiting for my coffee to brew I feel two strong arms entwine around my body and feel a curly mop brush against my cheek. Leaning back into him he starts to sway us as his grip tightens. Turning around I circle my arms around his neck and lean up to kiss him, Luke instantly reciprocates and deepens the kiss but the moment is ruined when a loud gasp rings off the kitchen walls. 
Luke and I turn to face the door and see Mark standing there with a shit eating grin on his face. He looks like a kid opening presents on Christmas morning. With that excited gleam in his eyes he yells, “GUYS GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE NOW,” loud footsteps race down the stairs and into the kitchen, Luke still holding me to him when three other people join us in the kitchen. Ethan smirks and Dylan exclaims, “mom and dad!!” Mackie just rubs the sleep out of his eyes and smiles at us before heading back to his room. Mark is still grinning when he says, “I told you so.” Of course the cocky fucker has to rub this in my face. Rolling my eyes I go to respond but Luke beats me to it, “leave my girlfriend alone Estapa, it’s early save the teasing for later.” I can't help but pull back in surprise because Luke just referred to me as his girlfriend. “Girlfriend, huh?” Luke turns bright red before stuttering out, “well.. I uh I mean if you don’t want to be my girlfriend, it’s totally cool." I can’t help but pull him down for another kiss before whispering against his lips, “of course I’ll be your girlfriend you dork.” Luke smiles into my lips before kissing me again. Only stopping when Duker starts slow clapping which leads the rest of his roommates to follow along. “Look at you Hughesy, you got the girl,” Looking away from me he smiles and says, “ya I did, I got the girl.” 
Staring up at my childhood best friend I realized two things. One, I could never imagine my life without him in it. Two, I was hopelessly in love with him and he felt the same way. 
hope you enjoyed, this was my first fic so please be kind. feedback is always welcome :)
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coolprettyleo · 9 months ago
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Don't Forget, Don't Forget About Me - Gabe Perreault ☆
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wc: 1.9k
tw: angst. alcohol. kissing? cussing. partying. almost sa. slut shaming. weird frat guy.
part 2 of superman !!
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
gabe hadn’t called. he hadn’t texted. it was now sunday night; the night before he was supposed to land back in boston and lottie wondered if he had even thought of her.
her little overthinking insecure mind couldn’t help but hope he wouldn’t go off and save some other girl. a girl who desperately needed saving just like the naive little freshmen lottie was a couple of months prior.
*flashback*
“c’mon!! we’re in college now, you have to actually leave your dorm if you want to make friends char” her best friend from home told her while they were face timing.
i mean its not that lottie liked to stay home. she kinda felt burnt out. her whole life she didn’t have strict authority figures who told her she couldn’t go out. so by the time she was eighteen years old in a new city she didn’t feel the hunger of freeness, every other eighteen year old was feeling.
she grew up with her grandmother in california who had already done her part in raising her children. she was raising lottie out of the kindness of her heart. or mainly due to the fact lottie would be in the foster care system since both her parents were in jail.
“i dont know what if something goes wrong” she says, beginning to look like she can be convinced seeing how cute dylan looks.
it might be fun to dress up and take cute pics…
“it’s college! you finally have the opportunity to be somewhere where no one knows you. you can talk freaking australian and stupid bitches would believe you. your just like every other bitch tonight!”
lottie couldn’t help but smile at her friends drunkness desperately regretting the fact she didn’t go to umich with the blonde friend.
“honestly thats so real and tru. when the hell did u start giving such good advice”
“shutup and let me help you pick a fit” dylan excitedly squeals.
lottie walked into a frat party alongside her roommate and some girls they had just met. the music was typical frat music but she was honestly feeling it.
maybe because she missed going out or maybe because her and her friends had just pregamed a bottle of titos before leaving the dorm.
the thing about lottie is that she doesn’t usually drink so when she does, she drinks to have a good time.
“oh my gosh!! charlotte pls let’s go dance. plsss” my roommate Mary slurred whining.
lottie was obviously not going to turn that invitation down, so off she went. unbeknownst to her she had already caught the attention of several guys with the worse intentions possible.
all lottie can remember of that part of the night is that she was dancing with mary having the time of her life and then the next thing she knew, mary was making out with some guy.
okay mary!! slay!
she didn’t want to awkwardly third wheel that, so she quickly made her way out the dance floor. into the kitchen where there were several tall guys standing around with red cups.
“hey charlotte right? we have english together” a shorter boy walked up to her. lottie didn't think he was with the taller boys.
ive never seen this man in my life.
but of course she was naive. and in her little naive mind she didn’t want to make this random guy feel bad so she went along with it. as if they were old friends. they weren’t.
“oh yeah! hi!” she told the black haired boy standing way too close for her comfort.
unbeknownst to lottie he didn’t actually have a class with her and he was just another dumb freshman hoping to get into a frat, trying to prove he was somebody to a bunch of nobodies. in all the wrong ways too. he had just been ordered to slip something into her drink.
why he chose lottie, she would never know.
“here let me get you some water, you don’t look too well”
“thanks!! thats so nice! I was just dancing with my roommate but I don’t know where she went, I think she went off with some guy which is totally fine! im not judging or anything, like good for her” lottie drunkly rambled. one thing about lottie is that she becomes a yapper with just one sip of alcohol.
“ya it can get pretty tiring out there” he said looking around and at her nervously handing her some ‘water’. or so she thought.
as lottie was about to pour the liquid down her throat a tall dark haired boy came and slapped the cup out of her hand. spilling it all over the floor and on her top.
what the hell man
“im so sorry but don’t drink that. here” he said handing her a bottled water desperately searching for a towel to give her to wipe off whatever the hell that liquid was which smelled like the farthest thing from water.
“cmon man i was already talking to her and it was just water” the frat boy said grabbing lottie harshly.
“get the fuck out of here ass hat. how stupid can you be”
"that wasn't water!"
the taller boy and i yelled at the same time while the frat boy shoved him.
“don’t fucking touch me or her” he said pushing him back. harder.
"she's pretty easy to touch man, I mean look at her" the frat guy drunkly said.
the tall dark haired boys friends quickly came and got between them before something bigger started.
“cmon gabe it’s not worth it” a freckled boy said to him while shooting a dangerous glare to the stupid frat guy.
lottie just stood off leaned against the counter trying to figure out who’s the hell are these people? and what the hell was going on? and did that asshole just slut shame her? what the hell did he even mean by that? .
“let’s go find your friends” he said taking my arm much gentler and guiding me through the party. trying to see if I recognized anyone.
“thank you for that, honestly. i didn’t think anyone could ever be capable of doing something like that” I told the boy who had gentler eyes now as we stepped outside. as lottie began to sober up, it hit her what could of happened if this mysterious boy never came to save the day.
im so dumb.
lottie couldnt help but think.
“well now you know for next time right” he said with a light smile as he texted on his phone.
whose he texting?
“who we texting!” lottie said jokingly. trying to lighten up the mood.
“im trying to call us an uber, your a freshman right?” he said with a chuckle, feeling a flip in his stomach as he seen her smile.
thats pretty.
“yeah, are you?”
“yeah, my names gabe by the way” he said realizing he never got her name or even told her his.
“charlotte. but i go by lottie” she said smiling at him, noticing gabe was honestly cute.
“the uber is fifteen minutes away” he said looking down at her, into her big brown eyes.
“thank you. really” she said starring into each others eyes, as if they’ve spent all eighteen years of their lives searching for one another.
feeling her heart beat a million times an hour; something lottie has never felt before. so she couldn’t figure out what it meant. heart attack? maybe?
lord save me.
*flashback over*
lottie felt like an idiot. she knew gabe was back from his trip seeing as his location was in his dorm. he usually would have asked her to go over by now or he would of came here, but seeing as he probably believed lottie didn't love him; he was going to be stubborn and not answer her.
screw it I cant take it anymore
lottie rolled her ass out of bed and put on her uggs as she marched down the hill to his dorm with a mission on her mind.
she had spent the weekend wallowing in self pity and she couldn't take it anymore. this had been the longest they had gone without speaking to one another since they got together and lottie realized she did not like it. not one bit.
"gabe just call her back, if she's calling you so much then she obviously does care about you" will snapped finally tired of seeing his roommate in such a terrible mood; all weekend.
"thats the problem! i want her to love me not just care for me. you guys know lottie; she cares for the homeless man down the street that she's never even met before!" gabe gestures with his arms.
"dont be complicated gabe" ryan chimes in, knowing all too well how their friend and teammate is.
as gabe opens his mouth to talk further he is cut off by a loud knock on the door.
ryan quickly trying to escape gabes self pity party practically runs to open the door while will and gabe stay sitting back on the couch.
"lottie! come in!" ryan says loudly looking at will with eyes that speak 'lets get outta here'. will practically ran out with ryan. not wanting to deal with depressed gabe any longer, not before waving at lottie on his way out though.
gabe rolled his eyes at their antics before getting up and walking to his room as lottie began to shut the front door.
"gabe wait! please hear me out"
"there's nothing to hear out lottie. its okay to not love someone back, you dont have to explain anything" he said looking anywhere and everywhere but her.
lottie took a good look at him seeing as he looked like his heart was breaking into a million pieces; lottie wanting so desperatly to put it back together one by one, however long it took. she loved him.
"you cant honestly believe that I dont love you gabe" lottie said softly, walking closer to him.
"look at me gabe" she whispered, while softly turning his head down to look at her. his deep green eyes has her wanting to scream from the rooftops.
"I love you" she said as she shook with nothing but raw emotion and pure love.
gabe couldn't help but scoop her up into his arms and kiss his girl like there was no tomorrow. smiling into the kiss because he hated what he had felt all weekend long.
lottie pulled away from the kiss as she wasn't finished. she planned the speech the whole way here, she wanted to tell him. because when you know you know and she knew.
"I love you gabriel perreault. and im sorry for not telling you sooner. i just assumed you knew and that was wrong of me and so sorry. since the very first day I've loved you. since you saved me from my own stupidity, I loved you. since you've put up through every bad habit and fit I've had, I've loved you-"
"lottie, i know. you dont have to say it" gabe said cutting her off knowing well lottie isn't one to scream her love from the rooftops. with his hands on her lower back. making her stomach do cartwheels.
god I love him. I want him.
"I want to though" lottie said, looking into his eyes. eyes that lottie thought were heart shaped starring deeply into her soul. leaning on her tiptoes to kiss his soft sweet lips again.
the boy who was her boyfriend. the boy she loved. the boy who knew she loved him. her version of superman. at least its the same thing too lottie.
the end!!
I dont know if I want to make this into an au or leave it as it is. we'll see!
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loveysloveclub · 1 year ago
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halloween - ethan edwards
in which, you take halloween festivities too far.
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you don’t think you had been this drunk in your entire life. it was halloween, your favourite holiday of the year and you were currently dressed as a sluttier version of cinderella at a random frat party. you had showed up a few hours ago with all your friends, your boyfriend and all his friends, but you had somehow managed to lose them all on the way. you stumbled into the kitchen once more, setting your sights on a bottle of tequila for yet another shot. you were celebrating and what other way to celebrate than to get absolutely smashed.
your eyesight was blurry and your head span as you took off (after two more shots) to find one of your friends. your eyes met the sight of dylan duke, dressed clad in a scooby doo outfit, from across the room. smiling to yourself, you pushed passed the masses and met him next to the beer pong table.
“dukey!” you yelled, wrapping you arms around him in a quick hug, disrupting the game of beer pong he was currently playing with luca fantilli.
“look at you, my drunk little cinderella.” he teased, his own words slightly slurred. luca fantilli laughed at the interaction before sinking the ping pong ball into one of dylan’s cups. the elder boy groaned, mumbling how he didn’t want to drink the cup of beer.
“don’t worry, duker. i got you.” you winked at the boy, but before you could bring the cup to your lips, a wrist grabbed ahold of yours to stop you.
“alright, cinderella. you’ve had enough to drink. let’s go find your prince charming.” you should’ve known that if one person was going to stop your fun, it would’ve been mackie. you rolled your eyes at the boy before handing the cup off to dylan and allowing him to drag you back into the living room of the house.
you spotted ethan before he spotted you, the scooby doo dressed boy talking to another scooby doo dressed boy you recognised as mark estapa. you should’ve known your boyfriend would be with his boyfriend.
“package delivery for ethan edwards.” mackie joked as he pushed you towards the seemingly sober boy. ethan laughed at you slightly at you stumbled over before plopping yourself in his lap, wrapping an arm around his neck for stability.
“you guys are matching.” you told him and mark, smiling goofily to yourself. “what gave it away?” mark sassed, earning himself a scoff and an eye roll from you.
“sassy man apocalypse has infected another one.” you mumbled to yourself as you fiddled with the ends of ethan’s hair. mark rolled his eyes before leaving you two be.
you smiled widely at your boyfriend, who frowned at your drunken state before pushing your fallen headband further up your head. “ruh roh.” you mimicked scooby doo, a mocking frown of your own tugging at your lips.
“i think it’s time to get you home.” ethan laughed gently. he tapped your thigh twice for you to stand up, but you shook your head. “i’m having fun.”
“a bit too much fun.” ethan pointed out before lifting you up to stand on your feet. “let me say bye to the girls first.” you hiccuped slightly before venturing off, promising ethan you’d be right back.
he should’ve known that tequila turned you into a little shit and he wasn’t going to have an easy time with you tonight when you downed three shots of the alcohol before you left, because as soon as you were out of his eye sight, you were running into the furthest room from the living room.
there you saw luke hughes and rutger mcgroarty talking amongst themselves. you knew that luke was nothing but a snitch, so you turned on your heel and booked it to the backyard. you couldn’t spot any familiar faces, but you did spot a bunch of frat boys about to shotgun some canned beer.
“hey guys.” you appeared from behind them, causing them all to jump at your sudden appearance. formalities were shared before one, a short blonde boy, saw you eyeing the cans of beer. he immediately handed you an unopened can, which you obviously took happily.
however, before you could get very far, you were picked up and thrown over someone’s shoulder, said person holding their hand over your skirt to ensure you didn’t flash anyone. “sorry, cinderella’s gotta blast.” ethan told the group of confused college kids before carrying you out the front of the party and setting you on the grassed lawn.
he didn’t say a word as he grabbed you by the hand and began walking you in the direction of the soph house. even in your drunken state, you could tell he was upset with you. you frowned to yourself before sidling up to his side and poking his cheek. “ruh roh, does scooby want a scooby snack?”
ethan rolled his eyes, the small smile that fleeted across his lips disappearing quicker than it came. you huffed, “i’m sorry for running off. you know i like to keep you on your toes, or paws in this case.” you released a loud laugh at your joke. ethan smiled, still remaining the silent treatment as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder to keep you warmer in the nights cold air.
you smiled to yourself before releasing a prolonged groan and halting in your step. you bent down, fidgeting with the straps of your heel before taking the shoes off all together. “my feet hurt.” you whined, to which ethan just picked you up and threw you over his shoulder again.
“i’m never letting you drink again.”
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louloulover · 4 months ago
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─ ⊹ ⊱ 𝓕𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓓𝓻 ⊰ ⊹ ─
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≫ʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇꜱ, ꜱʜᴏᴡꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜɴᴡᴀʏ
-Movies, Shows, and more are watched everyday. But what if you were the center of that attention? let's make that happen.
-I seem to have a large amount of Fame Dr's, But this is one I always come back too.
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☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:⠀ *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆
.。.✧〖 𝓑𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓼 𝓡𝓾𝓷𝓮 ✘ 𝓗𝓮/𝓗𝓲𝓶〗✧. ┊ 
★Info about him - He goes by Rune, as he was called that during his childhood because his brother's name was close to his so it was just easier for people to just say Rune. He is used to the name, but he prefers people who are close to him to call him Brutus when he got older.
★Important - He has Poliosis. Mainly on the front of his black hair. Part of his right eyebrow, right eyelashes, even part of his mustache if he grows it out.
★Body - Muscular, same height
★Features - Black hair, Hazel eyes (light), sharp canines
★Career - Brutus tends to do musicals/plays or model since he was young, Until he found a script he was intrigued by. The Shows name is "Master of the air" it was his first time acting in front of Cameras and filming for months. After filming the long show his friend Austin gave Brutus a script, again he liked what he saw so he filmed in a movie. Murder mystery starred in the early 1800's. Him playing the other lead along side Austin. It is his first time playing the "bad guy". He also posts small vlog videos, mostly for aesthetic but people love it.
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↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-
。・゚゚・〖𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷 𝓑𝓾𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓻 ✶ 𝓐𝓬𝓽𝓸𝓻〗 ・゚゚・。
★Info about him - He is a old soul. He loves to cook and give time to his loved ones. He finds small hobbies he always wanted to do and goes for it. Austin and Rune are very close friends, the chemistry between them is crazy. Austin likes eye contact, he tends to always lock eyes with Rune even if others speak.
★Important - He still plays in the Dune 2 movie (Feyd is so hot). But I changed a few things. Also he has not had a girlfriend since the Elvis movie.
★Body - Muscular, same height
★Features - Blue eyed Blonde, tends to have facial hair
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★Media - Playing in "masters of the air" gave him close friends Austin Butler and Callum Turner who will always be in his life. Once they made the movie it was a hit, a little bit to much in some peoples opinions as it grew popular for the ''friendship'' between Austin's character and Rune's. The two character's were shipped so hard, fanfics, edits and everything spread across all platforms. The two characters originally had no romance other then friendship, but the way Rune and Austin acted the characters just them staring at each other had such emotion. But that's because Rune has a massive crush on the other star. 💫
*ੈ✩‧₊˚★FRIENDS
Mel - My bff in every reality, He is a comedian who is often here for the ride.
Dylan O'Brien - close friends since middle school, and has been friends since then.
Brittany Broski - Like come on I love her, also I want to be on Royal Court.
Timothée Chalamet - brother like relationship weirdly, we just met one day and he stuck to me for some reason. People joke saying we look like brothers so he just tends to call me brother. we are both French/American.
Others to be added because I can't think right now,,
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writing-whump · 3 months ago
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Hey Sol! 💫
It's the dessert question anon. I know this prompt doesn't really fit in the current situation but, later on, can we please get something with Arnie and Matt? We got all the other interesting or rather unconventional pairings like Hector and Matthew, Seline and Hector, Arnie and Seline, but we have yet to see those two truly interact 👀
Btw I don't think I have seen this emoji around, but if there is another anon who signs with this, please let me know and I'll change it asap!!
- 🍰
Haha that's a nickname with fun context. Dessert is all yours!!✨️ Thank you for the prompt💙
This is also the 💫100th💫 fic and the official start of the vacation arc🏖
100. Airport troubles
"Remind me why I have to tag along with you guys again?" Arnie said for like the third time as they made their way through the airport.
Matthew was walking behind him, so he rolled his eyes openly. God, the kid was a handful.
"You wouldn't want to get dragged into pup training, would you?" Seline said quickly. "This way, Isaiah can train Rip on the way, Dylan can learn some tricks and since Hector graciously offered to help-"
Oh yeah, Hector was oh so gracious. Maybe he just wanted to avoid the fucking airport.
Honestly, Matthew didn't know why he wasn't in the car either. He could help with training Rip? At least with the sparring part? And who was going to look out for Isaiah during the 4 day drive it took to Bulgaria?
And he could have skipped the crowd in the hall.
Though Seline picked the earliest flight as possible—they were already at the airport at 4 am—it was still crawling with people. Happy families, crabby teenagers, loud babies.
Matthew's skin was itching. He couldn't help rolling his shoulders back repeatedly and it took all his strength to not jump everytime someone bumped into him or walked too close on accident.
The only way to avoid people completely at Vienna Airport would be by climbing the ceiling.
Another elderly man bumped into him, nose almost touching his phone screen, eliciting a shudder from Matthew. Why didn't he ask Isaiah to roll his shadow for the flight? This was torture.
Seline's hand suddenly hooked around his elbow and she leaned her weight against him. "Look, that's our control check that way. We'll be out of here in no time."
Arnie also wore a constant pout, grumbling about not getting first class and being left out when his brothers were having fun.
Matthew suppressed a sigh as they got into the queue. Trying to be nonchalant, he leaned over to take a deep breath of Seline's ozonic grapefruit scent, the air brushing against her silver blond hair. An ancherpoint of familiarity in the sea of chaos.
"You'll get your cabin bag up on the stripe yourself. They will only touch it when they move it forward. Once it goes through the box, it's all yours," Seline said, side of her face brushing against his shoulder.
Matthew glanced towards Arnie, flushing a little. "I know." He had seen movies with airports before.
Arnie snorted. "What? You have never been to an airport before?"
Matthew flushed a little more. So he never had a reason to fly, big deal. Airports and stations and everything crowded was a challange for wolves. He preferred to drive, bike or take empty night trains over flights any day.
"Shouldn't you have gone with the pups after all?" Arnie teased as he expertly unpacked his laptop and tablet and ereader out the bag. Why did he need so many devices was beyond Matthew's understanding.
Seline had a delicate frown on. "Don't be mean now. Matthew didn't have proper wolf training in his pack."
Which didn't make Matthew feel any better. Arnie gave him another ridiculous look as he moved forward to get through the security check.
Matthew quietly fumed his way through the procedure, partly comforted and partly emebrassed by Seline waiting for him and hanging herself on his arm again.
"I have saffron drops for nerves," Seline whispered in his ear.
Matthew nodded tightly and looked away. He wanted to be able to do this on his own, no meds needed. Though Seline was their local medical expert, she also liked using lots of herbs and drops and natural remedies like teas and leaves whenever she could.
It would probably help. He could try taking it when Arnie was out of earshot.
They finally made their way to a row of chairs near the right gate that wasn't open yet. Since Bulgaria was Seline's family favourite destination she moved around the airport with practiced ease. Her parents even offered them to borrow three apartments they rented over the summer next to each other for free.
Matthew promptly collapsed on the chair nearest to the window, taking deep measured breaths.
Seline sat beside him, watching like a hawk. Her hand was firmly planted on his forearm.
Arnie eyed them critically. "You gonna be buzzkillers the whole time? We have at least a whole hour left. Let's get some breakfast."
Seline bit her lip in consideration. "We can get food and eat it here together. I'll bring you a croissant, Matt?"
Matthew grumbled, wishing Isaiah was here. Or anyone who would offer to get the food so that Seline could stay sitting like this next to him, shielding him from the masses of people.
Arnie's eyes glittered knowingly, but the snide twist to his mouth betrayed he wasn't up to feeling any sympathy.
Arnie wasn't a person to offer anything, even if he caught the hint. He was observant, Matt would give him that, but for all his insight and knowledge about wolves, he still opted to be provocative and mouthy instead. He knew how hard it made things and he still did it. What was up with that?
Was Arnie really that mad for not being able to go with his brothers, taking his anger out on them?
At least Hector was blunt and predictable in his remarks and challenges. Matthew could get behind that. Isaiah was a generous caretaker from his soul. None of them seemed as petty and jealous as Arnie.
"Meet you here in 20 minutes?" Seline suggested.
Arnie scoffed. "Not much time is that? I wanna check the boutiques and get a good coffee."
"It's half five in the morning," Seline said.
"All the more. We had to get here at this crapy hour for Mr Second here. I don't wake up before 10, thank you. If I am to function I need a frappe."
Fortunately it didn't take long for Seline to return with a plain croissant and some tea. She didn't mention Matthew stayed at the seats, sitting on his arms to keep his jumpy reaction and shadow in check.
Matt felt guilty for the service, but immensely thankful to have something in his stomach.
Arnie took way more than 30 minutes to get there, sporting a large transuclant plastic cup inside another one with the frappe and melting ice.
Seline wrinkled her nose. "You had two?"
Arnie shrugged. "How else do I survive? Maybe they will have coffee on the flight too."
"Did you at least eat anything?"
"No hungry. And what's that to you anyway? I'm 18, you know?" Arnie said in a tone like that really made him an adult.
Spoiled little brat. How did someone rough like Hector even manage that? Matt was definitely throwing that in his face when they saw each other.
"The gate just opened." Seline was squinting on the far away timetable screen, one of her hand resting on Matthew's knee. "We have priority seats, so we can go sooner if we want...but maybe you better enjoy the view a bit longer?"
"I'm gonna be fine. Closed up spaces aren't a big deal."
"Yeah, but there will be lots of people. Though the priority seats also mean we have more leg space and you can sit by the window-"
Matthew smiled, his hand coming to rest on top of hers. "Sel. It's fine. Thank you."
She nodded, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "You are doing great for your first time. I'm proud of you."
Matthew rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks turn red as his hair again. "Don't-don't say nonsense, there is nothing to be proud of."
"If he was half his age, maybe," Arnie added. He sat a few seats away from them, fidgeting with the empty cups with jittery fingers.
Seline rolled her eyes and stood up. "Last bathroom break. I'll be right back."
Matthew had to chuckle at how she couldn't look at either of them as she said it, trailing away. Still so easily flustered about such things.
A loud rumbling gurgle caught his attention then. Since people lined up to the gate, it was just him and Arnie left in the row by the windows.
Arnie sat hunched over himself, staring at the ground like he was trying to burn it. He kept licking his lips, rocking back and forth a little.
It was Matthew's turn to snort. "Bathroom break for you too? So much coffee on empty stomach was so adult of you." Not that Matt never made that mistake.
"Shut up," the blond said. His earlier pouty high attitude burst like a balloon and he got pale as a sheet in just a couple of minutes.
The kid rocked back and forth again, shaking the backpack off his shoulders and hugging his stomach with both hands. "Ow, okay, that hurtsss."
"Stupid," Matthew said, leaning back in his seat. "You better hurry up before you shit your pants. Plane's leaving soon."
"Asshole," Arnie said. His blond curls were sticking to his forehead with sweat. He shot up to his feet, leaving his bag behind and sprinted towards the bathrooms.
Matthew grinned to himself, pleased with how fate got back at the kid for him.
...it wasn't that funny half an hour later, when the last call for passengers appeared. Matt and Sel stood at the gate, looking around themselves in hopes of spotting Arnie.
"Damn this timing," Matthew complained, Arnie's backpack now thrown over his shoulder beside his own. "Think you can talk with the attendant to wait a bit more?"
"Can't hurt to ask. But we better not split up anyway. We can always take the next flight."
"And let the tickets go to waste?" Matt grimaced. "No way. I'm gonna drag that kid over. Just don't fly without me."
He left the bags at her feet and made his way to the bathroom, glad he knew which one Arnie went to.
When he entered the surprisingly large white room with rows and rows of stalls, he was greeted with the horrible retching sound and a liquid splash.
"Arnie? You in here?" Matt headed to the stall with the noise, knocking on it.
"G'way," Arnie groaned.
Matthew sighed. "No can do. Come on, kid, we're gonna be late."
Another loud belch and more liquid splattered inside the bowl. Matt pushed against the door experimentally, finding it open.
Arnie was hunched over the toilet, a large sweaty stain in the middle of his back. The foul smell had Matthew's hair standing up.
He crouched down behind the boy, trying to get a glimpse of his face. "Still bad?"
"My stomach's fucking killing me," Arnie whined in the most undignifed manner, spitting into the toilet. His nose and eyes were running, his face a mix of liquids.
"You can sit at the plane and heave over an airsickness bag too. You can't have anything left there, it was just the coffee-"
Arnie's back heaved violently at the word and he gagged over and over the bowl like crazy. A meager but chunkier gush came out. He suddenly pitched to the side.
"Fuck, no you don't-" Matt was glad for his reflexes as he caught Arnie from behind.
"...dizzy."
"That's some serious sugar low," Matthew grumbled. It felt awkward to touch Arnie. He felt very strange to Matt's shadow and he wasn't exactly thrilled to be sitting in that small space with him.
Matthew gathered some toilet paper and handed it over, steadying Arnie with a hand on his shoulder.
Arnie blinked at him in confusion, accepting the papers and blowing his nose loudly. He was very noise for his small stature.
The big green familiar eyes in the foreign face felt even weirder to Matthew.
Arnie moaned pathetically, letting the crumbled paper fall on the floor and curling around his middle again. By the loud growls it was making, even on empty it was still plenty upset.
"Want some water?" Matthew tried.
Arnie gagged at the mention, pressing his chin against his chest. He shut his eyes again, face drained for colour even more.
"Shit," Matt muttered. He flushed the toilet then brought the larger towels for hands, cold with wet water and pressed them against Arnie's forehead.
"J-just go ahead. I'll catch up. Next flight's in six hours and I have-" he burped, eyes still shut, "I have the money, it's fine."
Matthew rolled his eyes. "That's what you would deserve, you little prick. Whatever. Not gonna leave you like this. You absolutely sure you can't go yet? It'll probably let up in a bit."
Arnie shook his head. "C-can't. My insides feel like they are about to fall out."
Matthew grimaced and nodded. "Okay. It's fine. I'm gonna text Sel about, ehmm, the situation. She probably has some herb drops to help, if you want."
Arnie opened his bleary red-rimmed eyes. "You really don't have to stay."
"Shut up. Who do you think I am? Ain't gonna leave Isaiah's little brother behind when sick."
Arnie snorted, face relaxing a little. "Not cause Hector would have your head?"
Matthew scoffed. "I'm not afraid of that idiot, stupid."
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nancy-xx · 4 months ago
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Nancy and Sid
The Chelsea was a rather appropriate setting for the events of last week, which culminated in the arrest of Sid Vicious on a charge of murdering his girlfriend Nancy Spungen. When Swedish writer Stina Lindberg stayed there a couple of weeks ago, she was not surprised to find Sid and Nancy as fellow guests Naturally, she sought an interview...
SID VICIOUS Ex-Sex Pistol
Nancy Spungen, his girl friend. There's no mistaking Sid's black, spiky hair and his bovverboy aura. I only see the back of Nancy's head. She looks like an old woman. Hunchbacked. Tufts of almost white hair stick out from underneath her beret. Her coat is an ancient, ankle-length article. It's a Saturday, September 31.1 spot then in the lobby of the Chelsea Hotel on West 23d Street in New York. If you find yourself living at the same hotel as Sid Vicious, if you're a journalist and you like the new wave, you're an idiot not to try to talk to him. But it feels weird. The same evening, I see Sid play with ex-members of the New York Dolls at Max's Kansas City, haven of New York punks. Sid screams, makes faces, and spits. Grabs himself between the legs, doesn't look at the audience at all. They're all awkward on stage, the volume is insupportable, and the music is lousy. The paing audience is less than warm. The only ones enjoying the show are three pale peroxide blondes with fire-engine red lipstick sitting on the stage moving with the music. They're with the guys in the band, Sid seems to want to pack it in after three numbers, and splits. Nancy runs after him and brings him back. He spits, makes another face and starts playing again. He doesn't get through to the audience, and his half-hearted spasms just look pathetic. A lone, doped-out Japanese bops away frantically, but the rest of the audience is frozen. Sid is not a great musician, nor is he a genuine stage personality. Sid is a 21-year-old Englishman enlarged to the size of a Colossus by the mass media. Poor bastard. I ring Sid's room repeatedly to try for that interview. Finally he answers and agrees to talk to me the same evening. At nine p.m. I knock on his door. Room 100, ane flight up at the Chelsea Hotel. The hotel is the first New York building to have a cultural preservation order stamped on it. Brendan Behan, Dylan Thomas, Janis Joplin, Andy Warhol and many other artists and musicians have lived here. These days, there's a motley blend of prostitutes, pop musicians, near-destitute pensioners, French film teams and tourists. The door is yanked open. Nancy all but draga me into the room. Sid leaps up from the bed. He's wearing orange overalls and a chain around his neck. He checks me out nervously, then runs about the room, digging in his clothes and bags Nancy, dressed in a black net leotard and black leather trousers, holds my arm, hard, and babbles "What are we going to do? We don't know a thing. We just got to New York and don't know the score. Is five too much?" Sid searches nervously for something. The room is both bare and disordered. There's a big bed with a TV at the foot of it. A desk, a table, a chair. Two or three gold records are propped against the wall, and there are suitcases on the floor. Sid and Nancy have just changed rooms. The mattress caught fire in the other one. Suddenly I get it. They think I'm a dealer. God. I swallow, then explain who I am. Sid explodes a groan and throws himself onto the bed "Fuck' sighs Nancy. She lets go my arm and lies down with Sid. The TV drones on at maximum volume. I sit on the edge of the bed, laughing at the absurdity of everything. Sid points out that there's nothing to laugh at. I turn on my tape recorder "What do you think of New York?" "Very democratic. Do pretty much what you want. Not that you'd probably do anything much, but that's beside the point" turns out that Sid is trying to put together a band. It "I had a group going. Johnny Thunders. But Nancy smashed up Johnny's girl, so it went down the drain "Did you?" I asked Nancy. " "Yeah. She fed a lot of stupid stuff to me. I've been friends with Johnny Thunders for years. We had a lot of fun. And she couldn't take it. She started it, so I kicked her in the face," So Sid's looking for a new group, and plays with the ex-Dolls in the meantime We talk about the show at Max's Sid blames the audience, "My name's worth quite a bit of bread over here," he said.
"Isn't that because of the Sex Pistols? "No My name's worth a lot on it's own. It's worth more than any of the rest of them." Nancy agrees, and points out that Sid has had more press than any of the others. "Why?" "Because I'm what people call a bad boy. I do things that are outrageous,' he says, with what sarcasm he can muster. "Do you think that you're outrageous?" "No, but that's what they write about me. They're square "Do you think you're a free person?" "No. I'm on house arrest" "Who put you there?" "The world. But I'm going to try to get us free. I won't be able to do it, but if people get the idea for long enough, the idea that punk started off, it'll become like that eventually." We talk about punk's anti-racist side, and about Rock Against Racism, which Sid says he supports, and about England, which Sid reckons is the most boring country in the world-after Sweden, where I come from. America is okay. Sid Vicious is okay, and is doing fine However, the Sid Vicious I see in front of me seerns anything but. He and Nancy make me think of two animals caught in a trap and trying to claw their way. Desperately. out I ring the next day, and speak to Nancy. She doesn't seem to understand me, and thinks I'm trying to put her and Sid down. I tell her she's paranoid, but ask her for an interview. She seems to break down, and suddenly sounds genuine "It's not so strange that we get suspicious. Everybody's trying to get at us, trying to get Sid's money. Every bastard we meet wants to get famous through Sid. They've made a fortune off him here in the U.S., but we don't get anything. I'm a person, you dig? Not a dog" I ask her again about an interview, but she freaks when I say I can't pay her. "You think you can speak to us free?" suddenly she's hard-boiled again and go back to Sweden and make money because you met Sid Vicious? Get fucked!" I begin to see their dilemma. They think they can go on living off their fame, while they're in the process of buming out. Sid and Nancy sense that, I felt. What they didn't know was that the Swedish papers would pay more than any of us thought at the time because someone,   maybe Sid, stuck a knife into Nancy a week after I met them Sid's under real arrest. Nancy's dead. And the pop industry and mass media hysteria are doing okay.
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🩷 ✨ aphrodite cabin headcanons 🪩 💌
aphrodite cabin headcanons bc the way rick wrote them was fucked up. let them be silly and hyperfemme and girlypop i am begging you.
they have a billion playlists for different occasions (getting ready in the morning, arts and crafts, capture the flag, etc.) that they share with the apollo cabin.
to clarify, they are not allowed to use the capture the flag playlist anymore because they are permanently banned from playing after a hermes kid almost lost an arm.
the clothes in the camp store are ugly as hell so they convinced chiron to let them set up racks of clothes they don’t wear or just bought specifically for the store, of course with low prices because everyone should be able to look hot. there are crop tops, bandeau tops, all different length skirts, rompers, and even cute shoes. the aesthetics range from y2k to hippie to coquette to fairy grunge to mermaidcore to goth, with sizes ranging from 3XS to 5XL.
they have huge storage units of makeup and hair stuff that they gladly lend out to other campers. they even have dye and bleach from arctic fox and salon-grade brands. don’t worry about how they got it.
they regularly have movie nights using a projector with blankets, popcorn, and cuddle piles. their favorites to watch are mean girls, legally blonde, clueless, jennifer’s body (a halloween tradition), enchanted, the house bunny, but i’m a cheerleader, tangled, mama mia, the sisterhood of the traveling pants, and all three high school musicals (they know all the songs by heart, ofc).
the whole “nico was the first person who ever came out at camp” thing is literally the dumbest thing i’ve ever read, so that’s just not true and the aphrodite cabin has organized every pride event at camp for years now. no one knows how they do it or where they get all that glitter, and no one is brave enough to ask.
you need love advice? you’re questioning your sexuality and need to talk to someone about it? you need a girltalk session and some hypewomen? you need to make sure the harpies don’t get you when you and your partner sneak out to a secluded spot on the beach? they got u, babes, don’t even worry about it.
they all have perfumes and colognes customized to their signature scents.
their support for the trans community could rival the dionysus cabin. also they worship dylan mulvaney like the goddess she is because i worship her like the goddess she is, and i make the rules.
no one has better halloween costumes than then. no one. if you look as good as them, it’s because you borrowed supplies from them.
insanely good matchmakers.
when one of them is sad, they all stop everything they’re doing until their sibling feels better. that means skincare, hair-braiding trains, manicures while watching barbie movies, and those frosted sugar cookies. no, they will not, under any circumstances, participate in camp activities until they’re sure their sibling is okay.
their favorite show is sex education. when they watch it, they send the younger campers into the big house with a hephaestus-cabin-engineered ipad to watch monster high and ever after high until they’re done. dionysus does not approve of having to babysit, but after he went to chew out the rest of the cabin and found them in tears with mascara trails because they got to season 2, he stopped interfering.
drew and will got the two cabins together to bribe and beg chiron for eras tour tickets. it did not work (much to nico’s delight, who would’ve been persuaded into going by his boyfriend). in retaliation, they put pink hair dye in his shampoo, and the apollo cabin cursed him to randomly sing what he says with no warning. dionysus has never been so entertained.
they have no tolerance for pick-me girls or slut-shaming.
piper apologized to drew once she matured and started dating shel.
they all have phones that they hide from everyone else, complete with protection spells from the hecate cabin. they all have a family group chat and facetime basically every day when summer ends. shel and valentina are best friends now.
being the only boy, mitchell used to get bullied a lot by insecure middle school ares boys. that is, until his sisters caught wind and gave them hell. now, no one messes with mitchell, and especially not with his sisters.
they absolutely lose their shit when they realize some of the younger campers are too young to know one direction.
they’re closer to the apollo kids (and nico) than any other cabin.
they have a bookshelf full of nothing but romance. red, white, and royal blue, the falling on love montage, pride and prejudice, cemetery boys, the seven husbands of evelyn hugo, like a love story, heartstopper, the list goes on and on (no colleen hoover, though, yuck).
their acrylics and press-ons are deadly.
they have bunk beds, but more often than not you’ll find them sharing beds like they’re at a sleepover.
the cabin is extremely maximalist, with little disco balls, pink and lavender everywhere, fake flowers, and full-length mirrors because no, they’re not sharing.
because their mom is the goddess of love, they all identify as either bi, pan, queer, or don’t use labels. they just love love.
they all have matching “free britney” crop tops.
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