#anyways school managed to disgust me from reading classic lit

[fluffyblue-multifandommess]

thinking about Antigone (by Anouilh), one of the only books I actually enjoyed reading for school

I really liked Antigone, the main character. I'm not sure i remember why i liked her so much, except that it felt like i could sort of relate.

giving it more thought, it does occur to me that, in all my school-imposed reading, Antigone was a rare female protagonist story in a big crowd of male protagonist stories.

And also, thinking back on the two other books I most enjoyed/least hated reading for school, both of them also have female protagonists (Liaisons Dangereuses and Huis-Clos).

Hm.

[naerysthelonesome]

Time spent together

Just a bunch of 3am coffee-induced Litpollo fics (they’re all related)

Part 1

College AU

Lit (Lityerses. Poor boy) is staring at Apollo, the tall, tan, lean but muscular, paragon of beauty with the most beautifully sculpted face I’ve ever seen (And believe me I’ve seen plenty), who’s currently shooting hoops in the basketball court. Off to the side, giving him pointers he does not need, is the smart-ass, Annabeth Chase. All right! Maybe I’m being a little harsh, but I’m really only here to talk about Lit and Apollo.

Oh look! Apollo’s attempting a backward jump shot.

Whatever. I’m sure he succeeds. The boy just cannot miss.

Let’s get back to Lit, shall we?

Of course. OF COURSE the angsty gay boy, with absolutely no social skills, falls for the gorgeous jock with a reputation for dazzling smiles, and leaving behind a trail of broken hearts.

May they can both bond over having the two most ridiculous names on campus.

If only I could tell Lit he looks ridiculous with his jaw hanging open like that. If only I could tell him that his being distracted by Apollo has put him in the path of that idiot Percy and his skateboard. Alas, I am only the narrator.

Percy crashes right into Lit, and they both tumble onto the ground like the pin-heads they are.

At least that caught the attention of the two blondes that caused this. They both jog over, Apollo letting out a short bark of laughter and Annabeth looking slightly concerned.

“Y’all okay?” the boy asks, standing over the two dark-haired dummies, shining like an angel and looking more picturesque than ever with the sun behind him.

“I- uh- Yeah”, Lit sputters. Of course he sputters. It’s quite understandable, honestly. At least he accepts the thinly veined, corded arm Apollo’s graciously reached out toward him.

“Percy! How many times have I told you to please watch where you’re going?” Annabeth asks exasperatedly. Percy does have quite a hit list.

“How can I look at anything but you, when you make it a point to look as gorgeous as that”, he says cheesily, gesturing up at her from the ground.

That draws a reluctant grin out of the girl.

“Oh shut up Perce!” she say, then turns to Lit, NOT graciously reaching an arm out to Percy.

“Sorry about that. My boyfriend’s a ditz”

“Yeah sorry”, Percy says standing up and grinning, “My girlfriend’s way to distracting for me not to be”.

I’m gonna throw up. Or at least I would, if I had a physical body.

“You are okay though, right?” Percy says to poor Lit, who’s been subjected to this disgusting gooeyness.

“Oh. Yeah yeah”, He says, now brushing gravel off his pants, “All good here”.

Annabeth mumbles something to Percy about getting late to class and they rush off. I really couldn’t care less.

Except.

This leaves Lit alone with Apollo.

Finally. They need to start talking. Like NOW. I can’t handle them throwing more furtive glances toward each other, and neither of the oblivious oglers picking up on any of it. IT’S BEEN TORTURE. (I should know. I’ve been tortured before.

“Oh! But how, Great narrator?!” you ask, “If you have no body?”

Well if you had any idea of the rules of etiquette, you’d know that that’s an incredibly rude question to ask. Therefore, we will be moving on)

Oh My God (not that I have one)! They’re talking! Now look what you’ve made me do. I’ve missed part of their conversation!

“Of course I like literature”, Lit says with a scoff, as if it’s obvious.

“All right all right”, Apollo relents, and then after a pause, “Can I walk you to class at least?”

“Oh” Is all the Lit the love-struck fool can say.

“Oh come on”, the golden boy say, grabbing Lit by the arm and hauling him in the direction of the west wing.

“Wait dumbass. I gotta get my books first!” he says pulling away from Apollo.

He runs a hand through his curls, and a blush creeps up Apollo’s slender neck. Of course, Lit doesn’t notice. It’s like they’re trying not to see the tell-tale signs of fist love!

“Just wait here a second, and I’ll fetch them”, Lit says and dashes away without waiting for a response.

Apollo’s hands find their way into his pockets, as he schools his face into bearing a nonchalant expression. Oy.

There’s students milling about, gossiping and trading notes. It’s a fine summer morning. The wind is whistling through the big birch tree, and blowing through the hair of the two girls kissing under it. Oh look! There’s a lone grasshopper…

Well this is boring. How do other narrators do it? Where on Earth is Lit?!

Ah finally. Here he comes, three large books in his arms. The collar of his shirt is wet, and his face looks considerably less splotchy. Well that explains why he took so long.

“Three books? For English lit?” Apollo asks, his arms completely devoid of books, or any other classroom material.

“I get bored”, Lit shrugs as if that explains everything.

So English lit must’ve been what they were discussing before. Unless they were exchanging famous quotes of love and desire from popular classics, which I highly doubt, that was a boring fist conversation.

Ah well. They can make up for it later.

Our journey through the green and into the classroom is entirely uneventful. I would’ve thought Apollo, being the confident social butterfly he is, would have at least struck up a conversation with Lit, but apparently feelings get in the way of such things.

How tiresome.

“Settle down. Settle down”, the woman at the front of the class says, sharply rapping her knuckles against the desk. Her name escapes me…

Anyway, Lit and Apollo make their way to seats as far away from each other as they can manage, both looking slightly disappointed when the other doesn’t stop them. Dorks.

“Now as I mentioned last week, I will be assigning each of you a project partner. I expect you to put in equal effort and come up with creative and suitably appropriate papers”, Ms. Teach says, picking up a list of names. No, that’s not her real name. I wish it was. It would’ve been suitably appropriate.

She rattles off some names. Someone complains. She patiently listens to their complaint and comes back with a refusal. The student angrily flops into his seat, waking up the peacefully snoring person beside him. They glare at him, then at the class and Ms. Rap-knuckles. No one pays them any mind.

Lit listens intently and Apollo pretends not to. There’s a bee merrily buzzing around the classroom. It bangs against a window, then bangs itself against the window again. Interesting. I think I need coffee. I can’t drink any but it sure does smell good…

“Apollo and Lityerses”.

Oh. Now this is a great turn of events!

“Seems fitting”, Ms. Good-at-student-pairing says, with a slight smirk.

Lit looks surprised and angry all at once, his face flushed. Apollo looks like he’s trying really hard not to care, but his mouth is threatening to betray him and reveal his, already quite clear, happiness.

The teacher continues to pair off students, as Lit stares furiously at his book, as if he’s trying to ignite the pages. Apollo looks at his nails, then at Lit, then back at his nails.

A half hour later the bell, blessedly, rings. Lit’s hurriedly making his way to the door.

But why?? He’s going to have to spend time with Apollo anyway!

Oh good, Apollo’s caught his arm.

“Hey we should talk about the project”, he says.

“What’s there to talk about?” Lit replies.

Um… is his crush’s presence causing his brain to malfunction?? I wouldn’t really be surprised if that were the case, consider that his crush is the magnificent Apollo.

“You know… Where we’re gonna do the project, what topic we’re going to pick, et cetera”, the blond says slowly, as if he’s worried about the same thing.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it. You go shoot hopes, or dazzle people, or whatever it is you do, and I’ll finish the project. I’m not great at working with people anyway. You’ll get your credit”.

Apollo looks high-key offended for a second, but then laughs.

“Is that all you think of me Lit?” he says, “That I’m just some dumb blond jock trope?”

“‘Mythological retellings’ is one of my favorite topics to read about, so that’s the one we’re choosing for our project”, Apollo continues decidedly.

“What? You don’t get to pick the topic by yourself”, Lit snaps at him.

“Why not? What’s wrong with it? Too challenging for you?” Apollo says, smirk gracing his perfect lips.

Everybody here who knows Lit knows he can’t help but rise to a challenge. Now the topic’s practically set in stone.

“Of course not.” Lit says, resentful but stubborn, “Fine then. When do we begin?”

Apollo smiles wide this time, and I can see the blush creeping up Lit’s neck.

“Meet me at the coffee shop just off campus. 3p.m. Right after class”.

[kingjasnah]

actually. actually let’s talk about diversity in fantasy let’s give that a go. im mad and im gonna be that way for a while

don’t want to read all this? fair. tldr: fantasy writers who rely not only on the medieval europe model but also hide behind historical accuracy in 2020 (fuck it, from ‘95 onwards) are lazy and unimaginative and should be held accountable no matter how many white 20 year old dudes jerk off to whatever power fantasy is embedded in the plot. so lets chat about that lads. (slightly) drunk rant under the cut

now prelim shit: we know fantasy is used both as escapism and as a way to deal with various traumas via magical metaphor. staples of the genre. even if jk rowling busted out the laziest and at times offensive metaphor for ww2 and racism ive ever seen, she still adhered to time and true tropes. whatever.

so why have we, in this post game of thrones era, become insanely obsessed with realism? i can hear sixty 20-something year old men crying at me rn like oh ohh oh its based off the war of roses oh wahh all medieval fantasy fiction is based off england and the crusades anyway so women should get raped and people of color should be demonized its not racism its xenophobia and also gay people dont exist and disabled people are systematically killed off and if we stretch the magic fixes mental illness thing a LITTLE further we have straight up eugenics.

we all know where the england but myth thing came from. now the thing about tolkien is that while i will always absolutely love lotr, looking at the LAZY state of fantasy? damn i kinda wish he hadn’t revolutionized the genre. the bitch was still racist. he still didnt give a shit abt women (eowyn was just a vehicle to show how much he fucking hated macbeth anyone holding jrrt up as a feminist icon for that needs to sit the fuck down and explain to me why i can count the woman speaking roles in lotr, a story with a name and fleshed out backstory for every minor character, on one hand but thats! another post). he had something to say abt class with sam i’ll give him that but he is still 100% NOT what we need to hold our standards to in 2020. 

i dont want to talk about old school fantasy, like 80s early 90s cause theres literally no point. its sexist, racist, ableist for sure, this we know. david eddings (not even that old school tbh) can rise from the grave and explain himself to me personally and i still wont forgive him for ehlana. 

so let’s talk historical accuracy. quick question. who the FUCK gives a shit? WHO is this elusive got fan who’s out here like blehh actually??? this method of iron production is TOTALLY anachronistic of the time. ummm these vegetables in this fictional world were NOT native to english soil so how are they here? cause i know this is the classic argument but ive never actually met someone who cared about the lack of dysentery as much as they care abt the women getting raped on screen/page. 

god forbid you have to worldbuild for a second god forbid you can’t rely on the idea of fantasy readers already have in their head god forbid you have an original idea god forbid you spend more than two seconds thinking about ur setting (oh i should mention i dont....really blame GoT for its setting cause of how long ago it was og written but trust me i sure as hell blame grrm for writing a 13 yr old giving ‘consent’ to sex with a grown man within the first couple of chapters) 

If we accept the basic premise of fantasy as escapism, and i AM drunk so i will NOT be finding fuckin. quotes and shit for this but come on tolkien said it himself and as much as i’ll drag him he crafted the simplest and most powerful fantasy metaphors on the board rn. But if we know its escapism. If we know. then who is it escapism for? certainly not for me, the gay brown woman who busted through all of GoT in 10th grade. 

modern fantasy lit used as an excuse for that white male power fantasy is literally disgusting. calling historical accuracy is so fucking dumb ESPECIALLY cause we, as ppl in the 21st  century, KNOW women have been consistently written out of the story. poc ppl, gay and trans ppl, anyone with a god forbid disability has been WRITTEN out of history as we know it, INCLUDING the fucking war of the roses so HOW can we hold up testimony we know is flawed to support our FICTIONAL. STORY. just to??? support the white power fantasy?? literally noah fence but if you are a white guy who felt really empowered by every time jim butcher described a woman tell me: how do you think that’ll hold up in classic HisToRiCaL fantasy. you think thats a fucking noble pursuit? or are you grima wormtongue out here. 

(side note: jim butcher stop writing challenge i dont need to know abt every woman on page’s nipples. anyone who hides behind subgenre like that? ‘ohhh its a noir story thats why hes sexualizing everyone’ shut the fuck up an author isnt possessed by a fuckin muse and compelled to bust out 500k they have agency and they have choice and they MADE the choice to reserve said will for none of their female characters)

which brings me to point 2: target audience and BOY is the alcohol hitting me rn but WHO is this for? this isnt the fucking 80s we know poc and other marginalized folk read fantasy FOR the escapism. on god ive had a cosmere focused blog for nearly three years and. im just gonna say it im interacted with A LOT of yall and ive managed to talk to VERY few white straight ppl as compared to everyone else. 

like....who deserves to see the metaphor on homophobia or racism. joanne rowling? the bitch who literally tried to sell us happy slaves and the disgusting aids metaphor and the worst case of antisemitic stereotypes i ever saw in an nyt bestseller? yall think that was for US? or was it for the white guilt crowd. 

literally white people can find any book about them that they can relate to. but hmmm maybe theres a reason gay women care so much about stormlight archive’s jasnah kholin, a brown woman who’s heavily coded as wlw. or kaladin, the FIRST fantasy protag ive ever seen with clinical depression. hmm i wonder why a bunch of millennials are vibing all of a sudden. im not saying sanderson is perfect--but its the best ive seen from a white author tbh

maybe theres a reason a lot of poc vibe with a literary way to express trauma, and maybe thats why i specifically get so pissed when its not done well. theres a REASON books about outcasts pushing through and claiming their own lives are popular with people who arent white and straight and able bodied. Junot Diaz had a point. maybe lets STOP catering to those assholes who think theyre joseph campbell’s wet dream personified. ive lost respect SO many authors who are objectively talented. pat rothfuss can write so beautifully that ive cried to bits of name of the wind but literally i will never pick that series up again (not just because of the felurian. women in general tbh. mostly the felurian ngl) cause 1) i personally KNEW men whod jerk off to that shit and 2) there was no need for it there was no plot reason for ANY of that shit 

so like obviously thers an issue with authors of color specifically not getting recognized for fantasy and genre work but on god??????? im still mostly mad at the legions of white authors churning out the same medieval england chosen one books year after fucking year. have an original thought maybe. also im sorry that you as an author lack the basic empathy needed to examine the way that women? or any group of people that youre explicitly writing about see the world and would specifically see YOUR made up world. 

yes your fantasy should be diverse, but more than that it should be kind. if you as a writer cant respect groups of people who deserve it....what the hell are you doing in a genre that traditionally is about finding ways to express injustice through metaphor? tolkien’s hero was sam. fantasy was NEVER about the privileged. yall know who you are so stop acting so fucking entitled. peace out. 

[rainandhotchocolate]

About Last Night - P2

A/N So i know I have a million other requests but I’m a sucker for this story sooooo here’s part 2222 lel enjoy!!

Mon 12:00pm

Sirius ~ So before I read the weekend news, should I be worried about seeing any murders I was supposed to be involved in? ~

Y/N ~ Don’t worry I planted your fingertips everywhere so they’ll know you were involved as well ~

Sirius ~ Oh thank god, I needed something to destroy my reputation ~

Y/N ~ And what reputation is that? ~

Sirius ~ Oh you know, cool edgy creative writing major with a soft side ™ ~

Y/N ~ Dear god you’re one of them :O ~

Sirius ~ Ur DiffEReNT thAN OthER giRlS ~

Y/N ~ **Blocked**

Sirius ~ I sincerely hope you know I was joking ~

Y/N ~ I guess I’ll have to find out :P What are you up to today? ~

Sirius ~ Well apart from giving my alibi to police, I have about 3 hours of classes today and an essay due ~

Y/N ~ Wow, that sounds like a super fun day – any good classes? ~

Sirius ~ Yeah I’m enjoying my lit class at the moment, we are doing genre fiction at the moment so looking into how writers create worlds, even within our own world, and why genre fiction is so looked down upon in literature society ~

~ and now that I’ve typed that out I am realising that it probably doesn’t sound wildly interesting ~

Y/N ~ Hahaha nah it does! That would be cool to learn about, I’m a sucker for genre fiction tbh, could never read the classics ~

Sirius ~ That just means you never found a good classic 😉 – What kinda stuff do you read? ~

Y/N ~ look I want no judgement here… I honestly mostly read fantasy/ sci-fi ~

Sirius ~ Have you read Dune?? ~

Y/N ~ Yes !!! Holy shit such a good series !! ~

Sirius ~ I’ve been trying to get my mates to read it for a LIFETIME its so good ~

Y/N ~ I would have thought Remus would have read them? He’s always got a new book with him ~

Sirius ~ I didn’t know you knew Remus as well? But yeah, he in theory would but he also has a long list of to reads and wants to go through them one after another ~

Y/N ~ Yeah, he studies with Lily a lot and I sometimes join them 😊. Also jesus that’s commitment, I’m usually picking up another book whilst I’m halfway through another ~

Sirius ~ I have no idea how he does it, if I’m being honest, if I hate a book I just don’t finish it (please don’t tell my literary friends I told you that, I would be killed in my sleep) ~

Y/N ~ Haha your secret is safe with me – imo I reckon that’s the best way to read, like why force yourself through something just because it’s a classic or whatever, I feel like that’s why so many people don’t read a lot you know? ~

Sirius ~ Completely! I actually just realised I have no idea what you study? ~

Y/N ~ Ahh that’s because I’ve been avoiding the question ~

Sirius ~ It can’t be worse than creative writing – I won’t even get a job after uni ~

Y/N ~ Oh believe me, it is. I study communications ~

Sirius ~ Oh dear lord you are every white girl who ever existed ~

Y/N ~ I know, I’m perpetuating the stereotype its very disappointing tbh ~

Sirius ~ So is that where you work then? ~

Y/N ~ Wow you remember a lot haha yeah, I’m doing an internship in social media management, it’s surprisingly soul-sucking ~

Sirius ~ Is that surprising… 😉 ~

Y/N ~ I mean, that was thinly veiled sarcasm haha but it’s actually not all bad, the strategy behind content etc is actually pretty interesting, and I’m working for an eco-friendly company so at least I get to come up with cool environmental memes ~

Sirius ~ Ahh yes, hit the youth with the memes ~

Y/N ~ See, you’re learning the comms ways already ~

 Thurs 11:28pm

Y/N ~ Whats ya facebook? ~

Sirius ~ Uhhh… Sirius Black? It’s not wildly hard to find, why? ~

Y/N ~ I’m gonna be real, I would like to stalk you ~

Sirius ~ Is this Y/N? ~

Y/N ~ :O ok you’ve known Y/N like 2 days how did you guess that ~

Sirius ~ Cause this message felt like one of those old school msn ‘my friend hacked me !!!’ ~

Y/N ~ You’re a smart boi, Black ~

Sirius ~ thank you kindly stranger ~

 Fri 6:45 am

Y/N ~ I AM SO SORRY ~

~ MARLENE STOLE MY PHONE ~

~ I PROMISE I’M NOT A STALKER ~

Sirius ~ Why on earth are you awake right now ~

Y/N ~ Because my body never allows me to sleep in ~

Sirius ~ how rude, also don’t worry I accepted your Facebook request so you can stalk all you want 😉 ~

Y/N ~ Literally am going to stab Marlene ~

Sirius ~ At least she’s up front ~

Y/N ~ Wait why are you awake rn? ~

Sirius ~ James wants to make the firsts soccer team at uni and has decided I must train with him ~

Y/N ~ Well that’s gross ~

Sirius ~ Couldn’t have said that better myself ~

Y/N ~ so what does this training consist of ~

Sirius ~ Mainly James trying to shoot balls at my head as I attempt to goal keep ~

Y/N ~ Can’t see that ending well ~

Sirius ~ Excuse you, I happen to be VERY athletic. I am a multisided human being thanks ~

Y/N ~ I am so sorry to have placed my predisposed ideas on you ☹ pls forgive ~

Sirius ~ I will have to think about it – right now James wanted me to do suicides and I must go into hiding ~

Y/N ~ Godspeed ~

Sun 2:58pm

Y/N ~ Ok I know I promised not to stalk, but what the fuck is going on in this picture ~

~ file ~

Sirius ~ oh no no no no no no no no ~

Y/N ~ ehheheheheheheheh ~

Sirius ~ I really thought my privacy settings were better than this ~

Y/N ~ Yeah this was very easy to find ~

Sirius ~ I’m going to kill James ~

Y/N ~ You can’t blame james for this beauty ~

Sirius ~ Oh I really can, he decided it would be hilarious for us to have a photoshoot when I was completely trashed one night. And then proceeded to post everything and tag me ~

Y/N ~ James sounds like a fun night out ~

Sirius ~ I wouldn’t say that to lily ~

Y/N ~ What she doesn’t know won’t kill her 😉 ~

Sirius ~ You are slyer than I thought ~

Y/N ~ I think I’m going to frame this photo and place it all over your uni ~

Sirius ~ You wouldn’t ~

Y/N ~ You may need to convince me otherwise ~

Sirius ~ Anything to avoid that embarrassment in my life ~

Y/N ~ Perhaps you’ll just have to owe me for sparing you ~

Sirius ~ I think that’s a fair deal – what about a coffee? ~

Y/N ~ I think a coffee or two would be a fair trade off :P ~

Sirius ~ Well I have the most disgusting week of midterms but perhaps on the weekend? ~

Y/N ~ Sounds LIT ~

Sirius ~ You’ve just made me regret inviting you anywhere ~

Y/N ~ That’s what I’m here for 😉 ~

 Wed 3:07pm

Sirius ~ Bit of a creepy question, but did I see you at uni today? Navy Skirt, Black Jumper, & tights?

Y/N ~ Wow you really observe an outfit don’t you ~

Sirius ~ I mean I noticed the outfit cause I thought it looked good and then I realised it was you and so it stuck in my head ~

~ in a less creepy way ~

~ in fact let me just completely start over – were you at uni today? I think I saw you! ~

Y/N ~ Maybe, what was I wearing? ~

Sirius ~ I hate you ~

Y/N ~ 😉 Well to answer your question, yes I was at uni – it was Lily and I’s weekly cheap lunch date ~

Sirius ~ Classy ladies you two are ~

Y/N ~ Couldn’t describe us better myself ~

Sirius ~ Oh by the way, are you going to Remus’ party this Friday? ~

Y/N ~ Mmmm I was thinking about it, why? ~

Sirius ~ No reason, I just knew Lily was invited and he mentioned inviting some of her friends ~

Y/N ~ Mmmm, yeah he told Lily to bring Marlene and me along, unsure though as Lily is particularly annoyed at James this week and he will of course be there and be annoying ~

Sirius ~ What if I can promise he won’t annoy her? ~

Y/N ~ I really don’t think you should make a promise you can’t keep :P ~

Sirius ~ Ah, you underestimate me! James has to go home this weekend to see his parents so he won’t actually be there ~

Y/N ~ This is a very interesting development – we may reconsider ~

Sirius ~ Well Remus does throw a great party ~

Y/N ~ DO you actually know what James did anyway? She usually likes to rant about it but she’s been shut in her room the past 2 days ~

Sirius ~ Honestly I’m not sure, James has been unprecedently quiet as well ~

Y/N ~ Hmmm how odd ~

Sirius ~ Indeed it is ~

 Friday 4:42pm

Y/N ~ What are you guys wearing tonight? ~

Marlene ~ Not sure, I’m torn between a velour tracksuit or the classic Canadian tuxedo ~

Lily ~ Both very classy options ~

Marlene ~ You know me, go hard or go hard ~

Y/N ~ You’re both incredibly unhelpful ~

Marlene ~ Worried about meeting a certain dark haired texter? ~

Y/N ~ Am I not allowed to want my best friends’ help on my outfits?? ~

Marlene ~ I mean I can’t help you look hot if I don’t know who its for 😉 ~

Lily ~ God forbid she looks hot for herself ~

Marlene ~ Hey, you’ve gotta play to your audience ~

Y/N ~ How would you even know what he likes ~

Lily ~ She stalked him around campus yesterday ~

Y/N ~ um MARLENE ~

Marlene ~ I just wanted to know his style, habits, if he was a psycho killer ~

Lily ~ She has a point, if he’s as annoying as James we have to protect you at all costs ~

Marlene ~ We need to make sure she isn’t sucked in by his serial killer prowess ~

Y/N ~ You’re making me sound like prey ~

Marlene ~ 😉 ~

Y/N ~ How did you even stalk him, Lily has no classes with him ~

Marlene ~ I have my ways ~

Lily ~ She flirted with the office assistant until she gave her Sirius’ schedule ~

Y/N ~ You minx ~

Marlene ~ No one can resist my charms ~

Lily ~ That is yet to be determined actually ~

Y/N ~ very true Lils, we’ve never met anyone you’ve dated yet ~

Marlene ~ Sooooo not the point, and we’ve gone off topic! How are you going to wow Mr Black ~

Y/N ~ That is 100% not what I asked ~

Lily ~ you may as well have ~

Y/N ~ You both suck ~

Lily ~ Wear that flowy black dress you refuse to ever wear!! ~

Marlene ~ YES YOU LOOK BANGING IN THAT ~

Y/N ~ ugh but it’s a casual party ~

Marlene ~ Who gives a shit, stand out ~

Lily ~ He’ll be drooling ~

Y/N ~ I don’t need him to drool I just want to make a good first impression ~

Marlene ~ Aha the truth finally comes out ~

Y/N ~ if you were actually in your dorm I’d be hitting the roof with a broomstick rn ~

Lily ~ Where are you?? ~

Marlene ~ Where do you think 😉 ~

Lily ~ Not the office assistant ~

Marlene ~ 😉 ~

Lily ~ How!? I was with you the whole time, you never exchanged numbers ~

Marlene ~ Exchanging numbers doesn’t have to be an oral task… unlike other things 😉 ~

Y/N ~ We get it, your sexual prowess is above all of us ~

Lily ~ I’m honestly impressed, she was cute ~

Marlene ~ I’m offended you’d be impressed tbh ~

Y/N ~ Ok so you are both coming over to my house in an hour to dress and intoxicate me ~

Lily ~ Deal ~

Marlene ~ Maybe give me an extra 30 mins 😊 ~

Taglist:  @averytruerayofsunshine @siriuslyjanhvi @blushingskywalker @blackpinkdolan @thebabblingbookworm @cherrie511 @imlukesnirvana @avengersassemblee @maraudersandco @sly-vixen-up2nogood @katbernoulli @sirius-lysad @evyiione @minerva26love @aikeia @gollyderek @greatwombatblaze  @songforhema  @your-typical-giggle

[noona-clock]

The Only Person

Genre: College!AU

Pairing: TOP x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

You were, among other things, a creature of habit.

This particular semester of university found you passing by the art building every day at the same time. You’d figured out it was the fastest route from your calculus class to your astronomy class, as well as from your history class to your English class, so what was the point in going a different way, right? You were nothing if not efficient.

But you were still a creature of habit.

You liked to establish a routine, especially when it came to school, and you liked to stick to it.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one.

Every day when you passed the art building, the same guy was standing outside, casually leaning against the brick exterior with a lit cigarette either dangling from his lips or his fingers.

To be honest, you never really paid that much attention to him other than to notice the fact he was there. You never made eye contact, you never spoke, you never even acknowledged his presence. And you liked it that way.

You were a fairly serious student; you were very committed to your education, and you weren’t the type to go to college to make friends. You were here to study and graduate with the best GPA you could manage, plain and simple.

Of course, you didn’t isolate yourself completely. You had friends, including your roommate, but you always put your studies first. And making new friends certainly wasn’t at the top of your list of priorities.

Besides. This guy, whoever he was, didn’t seem like the type of person you’d ever be friends with.

He never seemed to acknowledge you either, so you two were simply passing strangers. You weren’t even a ‘you two,’ you were just students at the same school who happened to be in the same place at the same time every day. Nothing more.

Until today.

You turned the corner, your music flowing softly from your earbuds as the art building came into view up ahead. You had an astronomy quiz in less than twenty minutes, so you’d put on the playlist you’d created specifically to relax your mind.

By the time you actually passed the art building, you were so in the zone, you didn’t even notice anything out of the ordinary until it literally jumped out in front of you.

‘It’ being a half-smoked cigarette.

You suddenly stopped walking, your feet just narrowly missing the cigarette as it landed on the ground in front of you.

“Ew,” you said out loud, oblivious to the cigarette’s owner standing not even two feet away from you.

But then he appeared in front of you, stepping on the sidewalk and blocking your path. You quickly took out one earbud, jumping a little in surprise.

Aha. The smoking stranger.

“Not only are you endangering your health, you’re endangering the environment, too,” you said, unsure as to where this boldness was coming from. The words just kind of popped out before you could think. Not that you regretted saying them, but still. You just weren’t used to speaking so easily to somebody you didn’t know.

A very smug smirk appeared on his lips before he bent down to retrieve the cigarette. “Whoops,” he murmured, his voice soft but extremely, very deep. “My bad. It slipped.”

“...Uh huh,” you replied in disbelief, feeling your courage sustaining. “Sure. You know, animals will eat cigarette butts, but they can’t digest them, so they just sit in there for --”

He took a long drag as you spoke, his cheekbones hollowing out attractively (to your disgust) before he blew the smoke right into your face.

You interrupted yourself by coughing loudly and unashamedly, waving your hand in front of your nose.

And then you took a step to the side and glared at him before continuing on your way to class.

Honestly, how rude.

You heard soft chuckling as you walked away, but you drowned it out by placing your earbud back into your ear.

The soothing melodies of Glenn Miller were far more preferable to some conceited snickering. Especially coming from the lips of somebody so careless as... whoever he was.

And now you were definitively certain you didn’t want to become acquainted with him.

The next day, you had almost completely forgotten about your encounter with Mr. Careless, though the memory came flooding back as soon as you approached the art building.

You weren’t listening to music today, and you contemplated scrambling in your backpack for your earbuds... but it was too late now. 

He was sure to be out there, as he always was, but were you sure he would even acknowledge you again?

No, you weren’t. And he probably wouldn’t. Yesterday had been a mere anomaly, you were convinced.

Still, you kept your gaze ahead of you, clutching the straps of your bag as you began to pass the building. You were fully prepared to avoid and ignore him.

Something suddenly caught your attention in the corner of your eye, though, and you instinctively turned to see what it was.

Or... who it was.

He was standing there, in his usual spot.

Smoking, as he usually was.

Waving at you.

Which was new.

Your brow furrowed, and you looked at him askance, unsure as to how to respond.

“Um... hi,” you replied hesitantly, not even positive he actually heard you.

You kept on walking, but you’d only taken a few steps before you heard, “Hey, Tree-Hugger!”

You froze, tilting your head in slight confusion and taking a few steps backward.

When he came back into view, he wasn’t smirking as you imagined he would be. He was full-on smiling, and he let out a single, very amused laugh.

“I just wanted to see if you would answer to Tree-Hugger. And look at that: you did.”

It took everything in you not to let out a very disgusted scoff before stomping back off to class. You did roll your eyes, though, and by the way he laughed again... he definitely saw you.

Good.

You honestly considered taking a different route to class the following day, not wanting to see what Mr. Careless had to do or say this time. But... changing your routine would throw you off for the rest of the day. It would most likely make you later to class than you usually were, so you probably wouldn’t get to sit in the same spot which meant you might not be able to hear your professor as well or see the board properly and...

You were just a creature of habit! And one little thing, the tiniest change, could stress you out.

So you grit your teeth and walked the same path as always.

You would simply ignore him completely - if he said anything to you, that is.

You even put in your earbuds, the classic, universal signal you weren’t in the mood to talk to anybody.

But as you passed the art building, your gaze focused straight ahead of you, you heard him.

“Hey, Tree-Hugger!”

You didn’t react, not even sparing him a passing glance as you continued walking.

You hadn’t even reached the corner, however, when you heard... footsteps. Running up behind you.

“Tree-Hugger, wait a minute --”

“You know,” you sighed in annoyance as you stopped walking, taking out one earbud. “I don’t find that name insulting. There’s nothing shameful about caring for the environment.”

One corner of his lips lifted into a smirk, and he took one last drag of his cigarette before smashing the lit end against a trash can and dropping it inside.

“I know,” he replied, much to your surprise. “I’m not saying it as an insult. I just don’t know your name, and all I do know about you is you walk this way every day and you scolded me for littering.”

Your brow furrowed. “Okay... Well, what do you want?”

“I just want to talk to you,” he chuckled, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.

“...Why?”

He lifted his broad shoulders into a shrug before answering. “Because you’re cute.”

You would never admit to anyone how your heart skipped a tiny beat at his words.

“I’m not interested,” you replied.

“But you don’t even know me,” he pointed out with a slight scoff.

“I’m still not interested.”

“I thought Tree-Huggers were supposed to be all open-minded and tolerant. Not so quick to judge.”

“I am open-minded and tolerant. I’m just not interested.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, taking a half-step closer to you and gazing quizzically into your eyes. His stance and his closeness should have been threatening, but... it oddly wasn’t. “Why not?” he asked softly.

You had to swallow down your nerves before you could speak, though you weren’t exactly sure why you were nervous all of a sudden.

“Why do I owe you an explanation?” you countered.

He took the half-step back then, his expression softening as yet another smirk pulled at his lips. “You don’t.”

...Really?

Just like that?

You knew there had to be some catch, but you decided to test the waters anyway.

“Okay, bye,” you said shortly before continuing on toward astronomy class. You waited for him to reach out and grab your arm or to run up to you again, blocking your way and demanding you talk to him some more.

But just as you put your earbud back into place, you heard, “Bye, Tree-Hugger!”

Well. At least he understood the word ‘no,’ which was more than could be said for a lot of guys these days.

Hopefully, this little exchange would satiate his curiosity and things between you would return back to normal on Monday.

Hopefully.

Part 2

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[carolnein]

here’s the other thing i already wrote for the esports girls i posted last night

this one also has an issue with game stuff between america and japan, where i spent more time trying to look up details of a specific event pokemon distribution in japan than actually writing the whole thing, before giving up and using the american distribution as a stand-in

under the cut

The nearest game store was a little out of the way of Aiko’s usual daily routine, but she finally had a day off work and only morning classes. She just had to go to the register and pick up a card with the serial code from the promotional distribution, and then she could get udon for lunch at a great place she rarely had an excuse to go to, which was the real reason she was driving to the other side of town for a game she barely had the time to play.

She didn’t particularly need to make the trip, but she had been playing Pokémon for a long time and was never able to get a Mew in the newer games. There was no guarantee she’d be able to get everything from the year-long event, so she might as well do what she can.

The trip went as usual; the store wasn’t particularly busy on a weekday, and the only sound that stood out over the speakers was a loud girl with a stack of used games in her hands, asking another girl out on a date.

“I’m not…like that,” the cornered girl responded, backing away in palpable discomfort as she picked up a game box off the shelf.

“Ah, really?” The louder one raised an eyebrow and looked her up and down quickly like she didn’t believe her, but shrugged. “Can’t blame me for trying, right?”

She didn’t get a response, and Aiko ignored the pair to ask the employee at the counter for the code. She’d only just turned away from the counter to leave the store when someone blocked her way. The loud girl, just spurned, was now standing in front of her with a cocky smile. When Aiko tried to move out of her way, she was met with, “Hey, wait.”

“What is it?” Aiko didn’t have the time or patience to deal with someone desperate enough to hit on every girl she saw if she wasn’t at work, even if she was tall and pretty.

“You’re picking up the Mew code, right?”

“I already did, and that’s all I came here to do.” She took a step to the side, but the opposing girl took a few steps back to meet her.

“You know, most girls who play Pokémon should be pretty interested in me,” she told her, grinning obnoxiously.

“Why’s that?” Aiko asked, deciding her chances of a clean escape were better if she humored her.

“I’ve been told I must be part Lickitung,” she boasted, licked her lips suggestively.

With a disgusted groan, Aiko turned on her heel and left the store, not looking back to make sure she wasn’t being followed but listening for the lack of footsteps behind her. She made it to her car without incident, reassured in the knowledge that at least her lunch wasn’t going to check her out.

---

Late shifts ending at almost midnight didn’t leave much time to cook dinner, especially with a stack of homework to finish. Aiko kept her bitter thoughts about the coworker she was expected to cover to herself, and with the extra hours she could at least afford to splurge on a premade bento to save time for studying.

She was at this particular Family Mart between work and home at least twice a week because of work, and even more often when school became particularly rigorous. The occasional bento or rice bowl was a nice break from instant noodle cups, when she dared treat herself.

The only other person in the store was another girl with an armful of sodas and snack foods; she was familiar, but it wasn’t a feeling so strong Aiko could place her memory anywhere, nor did she care to try when it was this late. However she was struck with realization when the other girl grinned smugly and asked, “Have I seen you somewhere?”

“Doubt it,” Aiko lied, not wanting a repeat of their last meeting at the game store.

“Hmm.” She bit the inside of her cheek in thought before her face lit up. “Ah! You were the little Pokémon master getting Mew, right? I don’t easily forget cute girls that don’t tell me no.”

“Then I’m telling you right now I’m not interested,” she said firmly, ready to tell the store attendant she was being harassed.

“Ah?” She looked confused, but then shrugged. “Alright.”

Aiko looked at her suspiciously, but she only smiled. At her silence, she finally introduced herself. “I’m Ren, by the way.”

“Alright.” She didn’t offer her name in return.

“What are you doing here so late, anyways? Long night planned?” Ren wasn’t aggressively flirting anymore, but she wasn’t leaving her alone, either.

“Yeah, studying,” she said, making a point to emphasize she was doing something important. “You?”

She’d only asked out of the forced habit of indulging a customer in conversation, and winced when Ren started speaking, now engaged. “My little sister wanted to marathon some older games, I’m on a snack run.”

There was a lot in that sentence that didn’t match the impression Aiko had of Ren. “Your sister?”

“Yeah, she’s probably just sneaking a nap while I’m out, we started yesterday so she’s tired.” Despite her words, she didn’t look like someone who had been awake for about 36 hours. All-nighters for Aiko meant an even grumpier disposition than usual, dragging her feet and spacing out when she wasn’t buried in work. “But she doesn’t want to get caught sleeping before I do, thinks it’ll make her look weak.”

“Sleeping is weak?” Aiko asked this skeptically, almost judgmentally, at the statement.

“Eh, she’s 16, let her think what she thinks for now.” Ren grinned again. “And she’ll never get through the Castlevania games if she doesn’t refresh her mind a bit.”

“I can’t even remember the last platformer I played,” she said absently. If a game didn’t have a save function, she was guaranteed to not have the time to finish it, and the platformers she grew up with were intended to be beaten in one long session.

“Wanna skip the books and come over?” Ren’s smile turned hungry. “I was hoping to invite someone over for an excuse to sneak off into my room, catch a nap myself.”

Aiko decided that was definitely enough socializing with Ren for the rest of her life, and placed her bento on the check-out counter, ignoring that she was there before her. “Good luck staying awake for your sister.”

---

The thought of old-school platformers had stuck to Aiko’s mind even weeks after her last meeting with Ren. Maybe she didn’t have the time for one she grew up with, but a quick Google search assured her that the modern games in classic series had save functions. The Wii U she’d received as a gift a long while back had barely gotten used, but there were Mario games for the console. She could find the time for a level or two now and then.

It rested better on her conscience to buy a used copy, since she was putting an advance on her free-spending limit. The itch to play couldn’t wait another two weeks to be scratched.

One of the last people she expected – or wanted – to see was in the store already, browsing the Playstation shelf. Ren looked up and saw her, smiled, and Aiko’s stomach sunk in dread before Ren did absolutely nothing. She gave her a quick wave of recognition before turning back to the games display.

Aiko was more shocked at her inaction than her forward actions the previous meetings, and stayed on her toes on her way to the game, and then while in the line. She berated herself for the invasive thoughts – “she’s kinda tall,” “she’s pretty when her mouth is closed,” – and kept focused on the counter at the front of the line. Some yen and about three meters were all that was between her current position and leaving unscathed with the game.

Her self-control wavered at the counter when she paid, and was unable to not ask, “Can I borrow a pen?” She stepped aside while the next customer in line paid and scratched her email onto the back of the receipt.

Aiko called out, “Hey!” while walking up to Ren, catching her attention and shoving the receipt into her chest. She spoke over her before she could flirt and ruin her bold moment. “I’m not online until late most nights, don’t expect a response.”

Ren only managed a shaken, “Huh?” before Aiko turned on her heel and rushed out the door, heart pounding in anticipatory regret. She’d only given Ren her email, not her phone number or something else easily traceable. If she did regret this, it was easy to block and ignore her.

Thoughts of everything that could possibly go wrong, minor and major, weighed her mind down. She was almost nauseous with worry on her way home, and the ping! from her phone alerting her to an email did nothing but exacerbate it. In her rush to return to her apartment and check the message, Super Mario 3D World was forgotten in the car’s front passenger seat.

Aiko threw herself to the couch immediately, taking up every cushion in an effort to get as comfortable as possible before diving into risky territory. She opened the email, and read the short message. “Hey there Pokémon master, what made you change your mind?”

Her immediate reaction was to bitterly send back, “It’s Aiko.” It was too early in their...whatever stage of their acquaintanceship it was, for pet names. Before Ren – it was obvious that the unfamiliar address was her – replied, she sent a second message. “Changed my mind about what?”

It was a few seconds before the next message came. “You said you weren’t interested, and then you throw your email at me. Can’t stand not making the first move?”

Aiko paused to think about what it was that changed her mind. “Because you remembered that.” She didn’t have much more of an answer. What was most flattering wasn’t her efforts to get close to her, but that she remembered her, and more importantly, remembered what she’d said.

“Are your standards that low wwwww,” was her quick reply, and Aiko felt a twinge of irritation that she was taking her honest praise so lightly. It was followed with, “But I told you I remembered.”

“I didn’t expect you to remember, honestly.” She seemed too carefree, like she was spreading herself too thin to remember anyone for as long as the months between their initial meeting.

“It’s hard to forget a girl as cute as you, especially one who’s interested.” She punctuated it with a winking emoji.

“Or it’s easy to remember if your flirtatious gimmick drives them all away, and I’m the only one who didn’t shut you down.” She worried she sounded too annoyed; she was annoyed, but charmed by the brazen front that had some substance behind it.

“It worked on you, didn’t it?”

“What ‘worked’? Who said we’re anything?” Aiko had realized she was essentially accepting being asked out, but wanted to see what other depths she was hiding.

“So you don’t wanna be my girlfriend then?”

Aiko paused and considered the question. It sounded like a strong word for two people who were only just now emailing each other, but the thought didn’t turn her off either. “Maybe if you take me on a date first I’ll consider it.”

The next reply came quickly enough Aiko wondered if she used it before. “Get out your Pokémon and let’s battle. If I win, I get to take you out to dinner. You win, and I’ll treat you to dinner.”

It was cliché and corny, but Aiko let herself smile at the attention directed at her. She texted back, “Tonight is the only night I’m free this week.”

“Then I guess I’d better cancel my date with Zelda, I’ll see you at 7.” She followed it with a kissing emoji, and some options for restaurants that they could go to. Aiko slowly felt that free time rut veer away, with school work not on the table, and something more exciting than a game coming up in just hours.

[queermequeeryou]

Chapter 2

Nevada woke up around noon with a terrible headache and full of guilt. She took a glance on the desk where her doctorate thesis papers were lying untidy and forgotten. She swore and afterwards, realised that Christina is no longer in bed. She was like that all the time, nothing surprising that she simply disappeared without a word. Nevada recalled that she mentioned something about her husband coming to town for some business meeting. She stood up, got dressed quickly and put her papers in the bag. Frankie was about to see her tutor at 10:30. Again, nothing surprising. She lit a cigarette and went to the balcony for some fresh air. Henry’s lamborghini was parked in one of the lots. Frankie was not worried because she knew that Christina’s husband was conscious about their affair. She took her bag undisturbed and went downstairs. Henry Sachs was sitting on the sofa with the fresh newspaper. “Hello, Frances. Haven’t seen you for a while. How are you doing?” he asked politely. Frankie coughed. “I’m fine. Thank you, Mr. Sachs. Hope you’re well too.” “Oh, I’m marvellous. Thank you for asking. I have a meeting with an important contractor this evening and also my beloved Christina is going to have an appearance. Later on we will stay for some drinks, you know. The appearance.” he said excitedly. “That’s great. Wish you both a great night.” replied Frankie and followed to the main door. Nevada drove herself back to the apartment where she was living and ate some cereals with a strong, black coffee. It was disgusting but helped her with the headache. She forced herself to sit down and write. She could not get a sentence out. She took a glance through her bookshelves. She loved them. Lots of classics: Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Orwell, Huxley, Dickens, Kerouac, E.B White, Arthur Miller, Proust. She remembered hot LA nights when she refused to go out with her high school friends because she wanted to stay in, read and refresh her mind. How much hated she was for that. Everybody laughed at her so called intelligence accusing her of having rather  some mental illness or social phobia instead. Nobody understood why a wealthy teenage girl did not want to go wasted in the best bars in the world. That was around this period when she has started to give up. Parties were everything. Finally, everybody has started to like her and she was one of the most famous. She was like them, she fitted in. She felt tears in her eyes but she wiped them angrily. She made herself a drink.

~*~

Ellen headed home last night earlier than she expected. She was too much disturbed by what happened with one of her students. It was all above the line. She slept rest of the night and woke up quite early to have a coffee before going for afternoon classes. She has always felt something towards Frankie. She was different, intriguing, talented. When Ellen was still pretending to be happy with Womack, Frankie’s smile, voice and scent was both a disturbing feature of her job and the one which has helped her to stay through. She knew nothing could happen with the student and she was not meeting many women out of the university. She was not tempted by anybody. So it was kind of a help to struggle like that. When Womack teared everything apart, she stopped correcting herself pointlessly. This nights out were usually finishing with different women in her bed, in her home where she was living alone now. After Womack cheated on her and the marriage disappeared, she needed even more nights out to stay far from Frances. It was hard as she was conducting one of her researches for the PhD. All these conversations together that were reasoned by studies were in fact the way to get them to know each other. She was becoming more and more fascinated. It was already third year because of Frankie’s inability to focus and finally finish it and she has had four different tutors now but every year, when Frankie has asked her to conduct the research again because she needs to postpone graduation and will come back to it after summer, she was saying ‘yes’. She could not do differently despite the fact that she knew that saying ‘no’ would help her get rid of unhealthy fascination. She got back to games and casino was her regular place again. It was killing the pain of all that was happening in her life. It was for a moment though. Not enough. She wanted to meet a woman that would care for her. Wait at home with dinner or go out to have one with her. To have same life that she had with Womack. If only he was a woman. She would not be gay if she could choose it somehow. She hated herself and she hated Womack for what he did but she thought that it could be fate’s revenge for all these years living in lie. She got ready for the university earlier. She went to the room were prof. Jones was having office hours. 10:45 and Frankie was still not there. Ellen was sitting on the bench pretending to read some notes. At 11:00 she went in to prof. Jones office.  “Hello, Michael. Sorry, I forgot to tell you. I had to arrange a research meeting with Frances Dellayune at 10:00 today and we just finished. Frances felt sick though so she asked me to tell you that she’s not able to make it. I’m so sorry we didn’t mention it earlier but it was a last call. Hope you’re not mad. You will reschedule soon, I hope. Oh, and here’s the papers you asked me to bring.” she smiled to her colleague and put the stack of papers on his desk. “No problem, Ellen. I have to work on something anyway so I just used time. I hope only that she will manage to do it on time because I’m not able to be her tutor next year again. Thank you for the papers, they will help a lot!”. Ellen went outside before her lectures and chose Frances’ number. “Hey. I’m just calling to tell you that I backed you at prof. Jones’. But you have to reschedule by yourself”. “Thank you. But how did you know that I didn’t go?” Frankie was surprised. Ellen cleared her throat. “I have to go for my lecture. Just wanted to let you know”. “Wait, Ellen. I’m going to the casino tonight. Alone. Christina is meeting with her husband and some business buffoons.” “Goodbye, Frances.” Ellen finished the call and went for her lecture.

~*~

Tonight, Ellen could not fix her mind. As she had a free day tomorrow, she realised the only way is to go to a gay bar. She flirted with some younger girl, got really drunk and they started kissing. Her mind finally rested for a longer while. “So, are we going to your place or mine?” asked a girl smiling to her.She started to feel like she is with Frances. Her mind was overwhelmed again. “How about having some fun and going to the casino first?” she kissed the blonde as she realised that she liked the idea.They went in and started to play. It was great fun with all that alcohol, kissing and risking going into public. Ellen felt numb. “So, you came?” Frances’ voice woke her from the floating phase.“Just for a moment with a friend... That’s...” she looked at her obviously not remembering her name.“Jade” said the blonde throwing an interested look towards Frankie.She was not interested though. “Ellen, can we please talk somewhere?”“That’s not the best idea, Frances.” she replied but Frankie did not give up.She turned her face towards her and hold a gaze. Their kiss was long and deep.  Like all of her life they both were waiting for it. After it finished, this felt like a strong wake up and the reality hit them.“I’m sorry but I’m here with a friend and we have to go.” said Ellen while Jade smiled towards Frankie with triumph.Ellen kissed Jade blindly and empty but she was attractive woman anyway. She took her home.Frankie got back home alone. She felt lost and misled. The love towards Christina that she has been suffering from for all these years mixed with a huge, tempting fascination she had on Ellen. Her PhD falling apart. She was not sure who she is anymore. The love of her life having ‘a stupid appearance’ with her husband. She sent Christina a message: ‘I need to talk with you’. She did not reply through the night. Frankie fell asleep thinking that her husband might be fucking her tonight. She was alone and she should not let herself believe it is different with Christina. Like it is not different with Ellen.