#back in the days when one song used to be as long as whole albums are now 😔

[shorelinnes]

save me lady of shalott by loreena mckennitt save me........

[cursingtoji]

cw: band au, rockstar!geto x groupie!gf, slight manipulation?, car sex, oral. a/n: geto deserves a loser gf too. gojo version nanami version toji version

geto who has a rock band and though they’re quite small they already have a #1 fan: you.

the band is all you talk about, going to the point of making your own shirts and posters, you doodle the bands logo everywhere and, most importantly you don't miss a single concert.

by the end of it you're waiting next to the back door of the pub when the band comes out, as soon as you see suguru you call his name extending your little gift bag.

"woah for me? thanks, doll." he takes your chin and gives your glossy lips a peck that makes your heartbeat spike up and your face warm up. geto fucking suguru just kissed you!

during all that week you were on cloud nine, so distracted and giggly.

of course geto notices you, always in the front row and ready to give the band some gifts, he sees how you try to dress up as one of them before they even realize they have a visual identity.

geto likes having fangirls, if anything that’s the best sign that the band is doing well. till that point he never considered engaging to one in a more intimate level. after all, women were never a problem for him, fans or not.

the problem is when they think more of the relationship than it really is. geto has always made sure they knew that sleeping together and treating them well was not synonymous to committed relationship.

because he already is committed. to his music. so after spending the whole day trying to come up with a new song so the band may finally have a complete album to present to a record, he takes a frustrated break picking up his phone and to his dismay only finding a long message about how he hurt someone’s feelings.

“oh for fucks sake” he lets his phone fall on the couch and take his keys, this is not a good week to quit smoking.

“geto?” he hears a small voice calling him after he leaves the convenience store with a very much needed cigarette on his lips and nicotine in his system.

“oh hey” he recognizes you by name and face.

“you’re using the lighter” you point out enthusiastically, that was a limited edition you bought and gifted him.

“that’s right, you bought me this, did i say thank you?” he’s genuinely wondering, your face heats remembering the kiss.

“i-its no big deal” you brush it off, since he doesn’t seem to be in a rush you start to babble about one specific song and everything you loved about it, knowing he was the composer.

“do wanna go to my place?” he says after quietly listening to your passionate thoughts. you think steam is about to come out of your ears at how hot your face got.

geto throws away what’s left of his cigarette and takes your hand, not really waiting for a response since the heart in your eyes is pretty obvious.

“you’re so cute” he says with his face mushed into your breasts as he guides your movements on his lap. you never guessed when you came out this morning you would be riding your favorite guitarist’s dick a few hours later, if you knew you probably would’ve put a sexier lingerie. not that he would care, by the way he pushed your bottoms down all at once he probably didn’t even know what color your underwear was.

geto pulled your hair tilting your head to meet his mouth, he devoured you so intensely, so overwhelming… you came not even needing your clit to be touched, just by having him inside you and breathing into your mouth like that was enough.

for suguru it was all a power trip, when he saw you after a concert he knew it wouldn’t take you much sweet talking to get you in his car.

he quickly mumbled an excuse to meet the band at the bar later and in just a few minutes he had you bobbing your head down his cock, “just like that, gorgeous, so good” his head is thrown back as he moans softly.

and as the band grew more popular and they had to travel to other cities to perform he would always count on you to meet him at his hotel room.

“geto~” you mewl his name as he eats your pussy from behind so lewdly.

from the very first time you knew it was over for every other guy the moment he touched you. no matter what anyone said about geto, that he was using you, he would never marry you, you didn’t care. you would be his devotee as long as he wanted.

and geto got all he wanted, a pretty little thing that didn’t complain or asked too many questions and best of all: that loved his music and understood his work.

“i know, you have to practice” you kiss him one last time before gathering your clothing from the floor, the hints of him not wanting to stay over were all memorized at this point, so you turn your back at him and make your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

but the usual sound of the door opening and closing never came, instead you saw him coming from behind to lace strong arms around your waist, “well maybe just tonight” he smells your hair and through the mirror he sees the tattoo bellow your belly button, just above the hem of your underwear. your prof of love: the logo of the band.

geto touches it and you giggle at the feathery feeling, like a tickle, he likes that sound. he likes you.

“i was thinking you should get another, right here” a finger caress your right ass cheek.

“the same one?” you ask confused.

“no, silly, something else” he gets down hands caressing your hips and kissing the extension of your butt, “my name.”

[natalicss]

Like We Were In Paris

kwon ji-yong x american pop star!reader

part two

summary: you and ji-yong have been dating for a couple years, keeping it under the radar the entire time. you’re both invited to the gala de pièces juanes 2025, and it’s the first time you get to see him perform live

warnings: not proofread at all, celeb!reader, implied age gap (reader is like…mid twenties?), whole lot of fluff, basically ji-yong being a simp, taeyang & rosé being captains of the ship, use of y/n, i don’t use tumblr so bare with me while i figure this out. i tried to keep descriptions of the readers outfit vague so you could imagine it to your liking!

word count: 4.1K

nat’s notes: hey y’all! i was convinced into writing a g-dragon fic (by like 3 people). i’m kinda obsessed with this. i had so many ideas while writing it & so im kind of tempted to write more of these two, but i don’t know!! this is my first like… irl person x reader (ive only written one other fic on here lmao) & i am new to g-dragon, bigbang, all that so i kept it pretty current. to me these two are very dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift coded (or just reputation coded), i cant explain why it just makes sense. the divider right below is from enchanthings here on tumblr, and the other one later on….idk its for my wattpad LMAO. anyways i hope you enjoy, and im sorry in advance if you hate it. toodles!

You still remember the first time you met Ji-yong.

You were in need of some inspiration. Working on your fourth album, the intense gaze of your record label, your management, your fans, and your musically gifted peers was crushing you. It seemed to do more harm than good. For weeks, you stared at notebooks and computers and instruments. Your manager tried to get you with various song writers. Nothing worked. So, after some persuasion from your best friend (who knew you better than anyone, having been your best friend since you were kids), you decided to do a vacation. Just you and some required security (per compromise with your team). You decided to go to Seoul, having loved it in the few times you’ve passed through on a tour. The fans there were great; always warm and welcoming and always one of your loudest shows. The culture was breathtaking. It felt like the perfect opportunity.

Your team had found a studio for you to work in. You were only there for a few weeks, but they wanted some hope that you’d come back to America with something. It was week two when you met him. You were walking towards your studio, he was walking out of his. The two of you made eye contact, and you were instantly swarmed with warmth. You didn’t believe in love at first sight (neither did he, to be fair), but you started to question it as you walked past him.

From then on, each of you seemed nosy about the other. He asked his friends who the girl was in the other studio. “Oh! The American! That’s Y/N,” He recognized your name, and now your face. He hadn’t seen you outside of a red carpet or a concert venue photo, so he didn’t recognize you with little-to-no makeup and comfortable clothes. But once it clicked, it clicked. You had asked someone working at the studio about him. They mentioned his name, Kwon Ji-Yong, and you googled him that night in your rental house.

You knew about G-Dragon, the impact he had on K-Pop and the music industry. You had heard a song here and there, but you had never seen him. Not til that day in the studio.

It was a few days until you saw him again. Your schedules just missing each other. Then, one day, your producer was running freakishly late to your meeting time, and Ji-yong was walking out of his own studio. You stood there, more like paced there, tapping wildly on your phone trying to get in contact with your producer, whispering to yourself in frustration.

Ji-yong had the courage to speak up, say hello, and the rest is history. Stories for another time, maybe. 

Your friendship eventually blossomed into a relationship, defying all cliches of long distance and the terrors that often comes with it. It helped that he was on hiatus and you had became a professional of staying out of the public eye. You both wanted to keep what you had to yourself. Your teams did, too, but they got less strict as two months eventually became two years. It was on your terms now, when you'd let everyone know about your status, but neither of you had felt ready to let the world in on something so…yours. So peaceful, so effortless, so pure. It was easy, the two of you traveling between South Korea and America to spend time together, or going on vacations together, or just taking quiet retreats into each others homes. 

Nobody ever thought of it, either. There was no reason to. Unless they’d been in the studio that day, the media had no way to expect any crossover of America’s Princess and the King of K-Pop. The media would rather gossip about you in relationships with the usual Hollywood celebrities, some of whom were just friends, some you’d never met. Neither of you mind rumors, it kept the media out of your relationship and sometimes they were hilariously ridiculous. So, you let the press talk their talk. You and Ji-yong kept to yourselves, careful on your information you’d share with friends (it was easy for things to be leaked, these days).

When Ji-yong told you he was officially making his comeback to the industry, you were ecstatic for him. You knew how much he loved making music and performing. You also knew, though he’d never admit it, sometimes when he’d sneak to join you on tour, he got a bit jealous watching you sing and dance on stage. He’d watched you collab with numerous artists, tasting just about every genre you could before eventually finding your new sound. It made him sad, some nights, missing that glow you often had instead. But most nights? Most nights he was beaming from behind the stage, watching you do what you loved most. Most people sink in this world, but you? You swam, no, you effortlessly floated in the sea of fame. And it was obvious to anyone around you. Part of what he loved most about you was your creative drive, something he shared. It inspired him, more than you’d ever know. 

Ji-yong's comeback had been more than successful, as expected. Throughout your relationship, the two of you had fumbled with varying songs and styles for each other. Oftentimes more playful than not. You guys fueled each other in the best ways. You released your newest album in 2024, and you were about to start your world tour in the early months of 2025. Ji-yong would follow suit, his first solo album in years coming out soon and then starting his own tour. 

Both of you were wracked with nerves, spending days in rehearsals, wardrobe tests, photo shoots, traveling all over for various projects. It had been weeks since you’d seen each other. After the holidays you were swimming in press for your new tour. He had been equally busy, filming his show, performing at various shows. You both loved it. You loved your jobs and you loved each others jobs. But even you two would struggle on the days where it’d been long, exhausting, and mentally draining; wanting nothing more than each other’s warmth.

The Gala des Pièces Jaunes, a show that helps collect donations for charity in Paris, had invited both of you to perform, along with other various stars. Little did they know, they had invited the world's most popular secret couple. You had been ecstatic. Not only did you love the message the event had, but you loved the idea of sharing the stage with so many extremely talented artists. Including, your boyfriend. 

The night before the show, you had inconspicuously snuck your way towards Ji-yong’s room. You had wanted to get a hotel room together, but knew that you had to be careful with the amount of eyes on both of you this weekend. Still, that didn’t stop you from wondering around until you ended up at his door. With your special knock– each knock a syllable in your names –you waited patiently for him to open up the door to you. His eyes were sparkly, even in the shitty lighting. They always seemed to do that with you. 

“Finally,” He breathed, pulling you into the room quickly. You giggled as he used your body to shut the door, his arms around you tightly. You had seen each other, earlier in the day during rehearsals. Pretending like it was your first time meeting him and Taeyang was hell. Pretending you didn’t know their names, pretending Ji-yong didn’t pick out your outfit on FaceTime, and pretending you didn’t want to latch on to him and never let go. 

The only people who knew about you two were Young-bae, of course. He and Daesung had known about you for a while now, teasing their friend and bandmate for not telling them right away. The other person was Rosé, who’d been your friend for years and one of your closest friends in the celebrity world, both of you having blown up in popularity around the same time. Both of them seemed equally amused, watching you and Ji-yong try to act nonchalant around the other. Young-bae chuckling as Ji-yong watched your rehearsals in a stunned silence. He knew every song of yours by heart (even the ones from before he met you), and even when trying to act like he didn’t he could feel himself mouthing the words as he watched you and your dancers on the stage. Rosé would wink at you when she’d walk past you, and everytime you almost missed it cause you were too busy watching Ji-yong talking with his team.

But now, the two of you didn’t have to act. You couldn’t stop laughing in awe, Ji-yong smothering your face in feather-light kisses. You held on to him, your face turning pink as he continued his full-blown kiss attack. “I missed you, jagiya, so much.” He muttered against your skin. Finally, he pulled back to look over your face, pressing another kiss to your lips. You melted into his arms, your mind momentarily fuzzy. There was nothing else but him. His hands on your waist, his shirt clutched in your hands, his scent that had became your favorite. Him. Him. Him. It was always him. 

“I missed you more,” You whispered, running your fingers through his minty-colored hair. He closed his eyes softly, as if soaking in your touch. Your heart swelled, as it always seemed to do with him. You had never felt this way, not in any of your previous relationships. You had been positive for a while now, Ji-yong was it for you. “Are you excited?” You asked him, tilting your head in curiosity.

He slowly opened his eyes, meeting your soft expression. He loved how you looked at him. It was something you couldn’t hide, not even at rehearsals. He sighed, pulling you by your hand further into the hotel room. “Yes. Nervous, too.” He added. You nod in understanding, he had only performed a few times since the comeback. He loved it after, always, but the nerves had been hard to shake off, even still.

“I’m excited to see you,” You beam, still keeping your fingers interlocked. You hadn’t seen him live, not yet. You had been back in America finishing up your album and starting a press tour at the time, but you always called him right before he went on to give him a final good luck, and you always snuck onto a live stream to watch. 

He rolled his eyes shyly, leaning his head into your neck. “Young-bae is going to make so much fun of me.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m more nervous for you to see my performance than I was at MAMA.” 

You laughed at that, bringing his face into your hands and looking at him. “You’re going to be amazing. More than amazing. You’re going to be perfect.” You reassure him, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. “And I am not afraid to bully Young-bae,” He laughed at this, throwing his head back slightly. He knew it was true, your friendship with Taeyang almost too sibling-like, to the point you two teased each other about everything. 

“Are you nervous at all?” He asks you, looking over your expression, as if he’s trying to find your answer in your gaze. He did this a lot, knowing you for so long he began to pick up on things, even before you did.

“I am, but only a little,” You decide finally. It was a short set, only a few songs to perform. You had picked your most popular hits and your newest single for the setlist. And your outfit was your favorite part, matching your dancers whilst still making sure you stood out and felt confident. “Oh! I have to tell you about this thing I saw.” You pulled out of his arms, suddenly distracted by something you wanted to tell him about when you were in your room. 

Ji-yong watched you quietly. His eyes filled with a lightness and admiration. He listened to you talk as you grabbed a water, waving your arms wildly to dramatize the story. He smiled, leaning against the couch in his room as he thought about how much he loved you. He loved everything about you. From the way you talked about your passions to the way you scrunched your face when you ate something you didn’t like. He loved the way you danced in the car when your favorite song came on. He loved the way you loved the people around you. He loved the way you waltzed into his heart like it was your home, and wrapped your arms around him like you were his home. You are his home, he’s sure of that. Even now, as you ramble into near nonsense about something he has no understanding of. He still watched you like you had been the most beautiful work of art he’d discovered. He was certain that was true.

Le Gala des Pièces was in full swing. Everything was going well, perfect, all of it. And you were backstage, getting your makeup touched up as you saw someone walk past your open door. You recognized him instantly, you always did. And part of you couldn’t let him go on stage without a final goodbye.  “I’ll be right back!” You pushed yourself out of your chair, rushing after him. You could see him walking through the hall, too busy with his own thoughts to notice you coming to grab his wrist.

Ji-yong felt your touch, his head moving so fast he swore he heard a crack. His eyes met yours instantly, then looked you over in surprise. He hadn’t seen your outfit yet. It complimented his, something he wasn’t sure if you had done on purpose or not. A black and red outfit, the red the exact same shade as his tie. As he looked you over, you could see the different emotions flicker on his face. Admiration, lust, maybe hunger, and love. He looked up at your face again, smiling, “Hi, Y/N,” His name feels unfamiliar on his tongue, now. Over the years, nicknames had become your normal. Another thing to add to the list of things you hated about pretending you didn’t know him.

Your mouth hung open for a moment as you looked at him. You hadn’t been sure if you’d see him before he went on, so you hadn’t exactly planned your choice of words. “I wanted to wish you luck,” You stuttered out, suddenly aware of how many eyes could be on the two of you.

Ji-yong’s eyes were laced with amusement, seeing your cheeks turned pink. “I have to grab something to drink, come with me?” He asked, playing it as cool and casual as humanly possible. You itched to reach for his hand, but kept to yourself as you followed him. 

As soon as you were in a dark corner, away from prying eyes, he was on you. The two of you pressed your lips together like perfect puzzle pieces. Your hands roamed his chest as his roamed your waist. You hummed happily, wishing this moment with him would never end. Adrenaline, nerves, excitement all were running high. From the show, from being around each other, from sneaking around. You felt his hands squeeze your hips, the two of you forcing yourselves to pull away. You smiled up at him, almost dizzy from him simply being in front of you. “Good luck,” You beamed.

“Is that how you wish everybody good luck?” He asks playfully. You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest as you adjusted yourselves. “I’ll see you as soon as I’m done,” He leans to kiss you again, “I love you,”

“I love you more,” You winked as he sauntered off towards where his team was waiting for him. You stayed back a moment, blushing wildly and hopping in place happily before rushing back to your own people.

You watched from backstage, wrapping yourself in a black robe to hide yourself as much as you could from the crew around you. You had passed Taeyang, who gave you a subtle handshake as he passed by for his cue. You watched in awe, seeing Ji-yong, no, G-Dragon on that stage. Seeing him do it all in person…it was ethereal. The way he moved through the stage and carried himself with this aura. He was almost mesmerizing, distracting you from the chaos backstage and your own nerves. It didn’t shock you, you’d known forever how talented he was. You’d seen videos of him from before you met, you’d seen him work for hours upon hours in studios, and you’d seen him on set for his music videos. But this was different. This was really him. This was what he was born to do, if destiny and fate were real. This was exactly that.

“Hey, pretty,” You turned your head to Rosé, Rosie, who only smiled knowingly. She linked her arm with yours, leaning into you. “You happy?”

“Happiest,” You answered, “He’s so good.”

“He is.” Rosie agreed. She giggled at your face. The two of you had met years ago, you had blown up in the music scene shortly after Blackpink. The two of you crossed paths at an event, not knowing anyone else there, and you two stuck by each others sides much like you were now. You two had been closest friends. When you told her about your first date with Ji-yong, she was ecstatic. She knew Ji-yong, and she knew that he’d be good to you. She wanted you to be happy, and that's what you were. Always when it came to Ji-yong, you were the happiest person she'd seen.

You watched the rest of his set. You smiled giddily as he and Taeyang performed together. You bit your thumb nail as you watched him move around the stage in the second outfit with the sparkling black jacket. Rosie nudging you every time she noticed you blush. 

When he was off the stage, he had found you waiting for him amidst the crowd of people. He smiled happily, reaching you without much thought about anyone else. His arms swooped you in, hugging you tightly. You laughed, hugging him back. “That was amazing!” You beamed. For a moment, the two of you forgot where you were. Forgetting the curious eyes who thought you barely knew each other. When your senses kicked in, he was quick to put you back at a friendly distance. Your gaze moved to Taeyang, “You guys are phenomenal!” You hugged Young-bae too, hoping that if you acted friendly with everyone it wouldn’t cause more suspicion. “Thank you,” Ji-yong muttered, suddenly shy again. He bowed quickly at you, trying to play it off. In moments, you were hearing your name called, and his own team was surrounding him. You smiled warmly, disappearing in the crowd of crew and stars. 

Ji-yong wanted to keep close to you. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms until the very moment you were on stage, but that was impossible. You were back in your greenroom, getting makeup and hair touched up, and then you were taking photos with crew members and doing more vocal warm ups. You were being whisked around every which way. He and Young-bae were staying close together, feeling the most comfortable with each other as they simply watched the show continue.

Young-bae was smiling to himself. He had been so happy for Ji-yong when he introduced you to him and Daesung. It was blatantly obvious to see how happy you made him. You made Ji-yong smile at every moment, you'd giggle at his jokes (even if Young-bae didn't think they were that funny), you would help him if you noticed his hesitation. You encouraged him. You built him up. You even started secretly learning Korean, calling Young-bae for help every now and again. The next time you visited Ji-yong, you had managed to say your first sentence in Korean, and it was actually good. You were this ray of sunshine. Anyone who knew the two of you knew that. He was honored to be in on your guys’s little secret. Otherwise, he’d feel cheated out of watching two people he cared about falling in love. 

Unfortunately, Ji-yong didn’t get a chance to see you before you were whisked away under the stage to make your entrance. Still, he watched quietly from backstage. He clasped his hands together, watching the crowd scream with anticipation as your intro started. Fog began to cover the stage, the lights flashing every which way with the music. Your dancers surrounded the area you’d rise from. Once you did, you immediately went into the first song, dancing on every note. The crowd was wild. Ji-yong smiled proudly. On stage you were someone else entirely. You were confident, you moved with ease and exact precision. Your body moved with your dancers, most you’ve known for years. Their hands grazing your hips as you all moved together in sync. Ji-yong never got jealous, knowing how these things worked. He was no stranger to any of it. 

He’d seen you perform, maybe a hundred times now, and yet it never got old. As the song transitioned to another popular track, the crowd somehow getting even louder, he thought about how you might’ve looked earlier. Standing in the same spot, only a short time ago. He could only assume you looked much like he did now. Body swaying to the familiar music, mouthing the words, eyes sparkling at him like he had hung the moon and the stars only for you. He wasn’t sure what he did to get so lucky.

He clapped as the crowd did. You were at the far end of the stage now, dancing with another male dancer to the third song. The song had been written for him, though not many people knew that other than you and him. A romantically charged song. It was one of his favorites. He remembered the day you showed it to him, all shy and quiet, which was unusual for you. You had told him you had a song to show him, wanting to release it as a single in the future. When you played it, you only stared at his face while he stared at the computer screen. He considered marrying you right there. 

As you performed your fourth and final song, he found his way to where you’d end up off stage. He played with his sleeves, smiling shyly as people greeted him as they passed by. He wanted to see you. No, he needed to see you. 

And he did. You came off the stage, glistening from glitter and sweat. You hugged your dancers and thanked them, high-fiving other members of your crew. As your eyes met his, he could see them light up. But you stayed put, not wanting to make another scene. He winked at you, moving in the direction of your greenroom.

It took you a couple minutes to get your micpack off and head towards your dressing room to change. Once you did, you smiled wide at the man waiting inside. “We did it!” You beamed as you jumped at him. He caught you easily, swinging you loosely in his arms as you pressed your lips against his. It wasn’t rushed or adrenaline-filled like before. This was softer, still full of energy, but only relief, love, and pure joy. “We fucking nailed it, baby,” You said as you looked up at him. He swore he might die from the way you love him.

“You were beautiful,” He hummed, leaning into your hair. He hummed, squeezing you tighter. “I love you. So fucking much.”

You closed your eyes, taking in the moment as best as you could. There was no place on this planet you loved more than being in his embrace. You could be anywhere, at any time, anything could be happening, and all you’d want is him. That’s all you’d ever need, The lazy mornings in your LA home where you’d surprise him with breakfast in bed. The romantic nights in Seoul where he’d take you out to dinner at your favorite place. The bustling mornings when one of you had a meeting to get to. One of you having a mouth full of toast trying to run out the door, only to scramble back to give the other a kiss. Late nights in studios, falling asleep in random spots as you tried to come up with new lyrics and beats. Your favorites were the quiet nights, the two of you tangled in bed sheets as he stared at each other, talking about whatever came to mind as one of you played with the others hair, or traced shapes on bare skin. Gentle kisses passed back and forth. Life was perfect, and he was perfect. 

“I love you, Ji,” You whispered, kissing him again. He hummed into it, smiling. You looked him over appreciatively, fiddling with his outfit. “I need to change, wanna pick my outfit out for me?” You asked, raising a brow. His eyes flicked with mischief as he looked back at the rack of clothes you had. He looked back at you, pulling you back into him again.

[mapiforpresident]

The Secret Folder

Alexia x reader

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of your shared apartment as you lounged on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on Alexia’s phone. She’d handed it over to you earlier to look at a video her sister Alba had sent, but after you finished, curiosity got the better of you.

“Do you have any cute pictures of Nala?” you called out. Alexia, who was in the kitchen making a smoothie, gave a distracted hum of agreement.

“Should be a whole album,” she said without looking back.

Grinning, you navigated to her photos app, and sure enough, there was an album dedicated to Nala. You scrolled through the pictures, laughing at a particularly funny one where the dog’s ears were sticking up in opposite directions.

But then something caught your eye—a folder labeled with a single emoji: 🔒.

It wasn’t in her usual style to use something so cryptic, and your curiosity piqued instantly.

“Lex, what’s this?” you asked, holding the phone up as you clicked on the folder.

“Wait—what?” she said, her tone suddenly sharp as she spun around, eyes wide with alarm.

You blinked as the folder opened, revealing at least 100 videos—TikTok edits. Specifically, TikTok edits of you.

The first one that auto-played was set to a dramatic song, showing a montage of your highlights from the season.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth as you stared at the screen.

Alexia rushed over, smoothie forgotten on the counter. “No, no, no! You weren’t supposed to see that!”

You could barely breathe, both from shock and the overwhelming urge to laugh. “Are these all…?”

“Stop!” she groaned, snatching at the phone, but you held it out of her reach.

“Alexia Putellas,” you said dramatically, standing up as you began scrolling through the folder. “You have a whole folder of TikTok edits of me?!”

Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red as she crossed her arms, glaring at you in sheer embarrassment. “It’s not what it looks like!”

You raised an eyebrow, playing another video. This one was a compilation of your funniest moments during training, overlaid with the caption like when she’s funny and hot.

“Lex,” you teased, biting back a laugh, “this definitely looks like what it looks like.”

“I thought I had a lock on that folder!” she muttered, covering her face with her hands.

You grinned, loving how flustered she was. “Do you, like, watch these when I’m not home? Or when you’re bored? Is this what you’re doing on long flights?”

“Stop,” she whined, but her lips were twitching, betraying the smile she was trying to suppress.

You leaned in, lowering your voice in mock seriousness. “Be honest. Which one’s your favorite?”

She groaned again, grabbing a throw pillow and burying her face in it.

Your teasing softened as you set the phone down and wrapped your arms around her. “Lex, this is actually really sweet,” you said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Sweet?” she mumbled into the pillow, peeking up at you with one eye.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “It’s nice to know you’re just as obsessed with me as I am with you.”

That made her laugh, finally lowering the pillow. “I’m not obsessed. I just… like seeing you. You make me proud.”

Your heart melted at her words, and you kissed her properly, pouring all your affection into the gesture. When you pulled back, her cheeks were still pink, but her embarrassment seemed to have eased slightl.

“For the record,” you said with a grin, “I’m totally telling Mapi about this.”

“Don’t you dare,” she warned. But you did and Mapi teased her about it every single day, and sent her a few to add to her collection.

~~~

Leave a tip here. Not required at all and I still will write requests without it, but they are greatly appreciated and these requests are guaranteed in 2-3 days.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

I meant to post about this back when TTPD was released and never got around to it, but it's so touching to me that Taylor has peppered so many British-isms into the album, and not just in a jokey kind of way like in "London Boy" back in the Lover days.

It's such a beautiful, subtle nod to how much that was her life for years, and to the marks the city and the muse(s) left on her. Because isn't that true of any of us when we've been around a person for so long, or live in a place we've made into our home? You start picking up their speech patterns until they become second nature. (For instance, one of my best friends moved abroad for university, and before long she started dropping in words like "fortnight," "lorry,""shops" (vs. stores) into conversation when we'd speak, which only got stronger along with her accent shifting as the years went by and she stayed there.) Kind of a love language code switching.

It’s sprinkled throughout the album. “For a fortnight” in “Fortnight,” “blokes” on “The Alchemy,” “the shops,”* in “How Did It End?” I think my favourite use of it is in “The Bolter,” because it’s such a classic twangy yeehaw Taylor song, but she’s got these tiny turns of phrase that point to where she spent a large portion of her adult life. (E.g. “best mates,” “out the drive,”* “wish he wouldn’t be sore,”*)(*yes I know these aren’t like, specifically not-American, but as someone who has grown up with North American English in the same generation as Taylor, these definitely feel anachronistic/foreign. Like if I hear someone say “the shops” instead of “the store,” “drive” instead of driveway or “sore” meaning upset, I’m thinking they either watch a lot of 1950s movies or they’re from the UK. And yes I know it’s to make everything rhyme BUT THAT’S THE POINT SHE IS MAKING THEM RHYME ON PURPOSE ok I’m stopping now before the linguistics nerd in me jumps out) It’s such a cool merging of influences, much like the album as a whole fuses together experiences and muses and sounds.

And that gets back to the “I love this place for so long,”of it all. The place is the city, the place is her home, the place is the person, and they are all part of her. To me, these are part of the subtext of the album, of the big love she once felt for all of it, and how it changed her. And, why it hurt so much to leave it all behind. So she’s starting over back home in America, but she’s taking a little bit of London with her for its curtain call on TTPD.

[not-the-coffee-machine4]

we need some more Brian May appreciation on this blog methinks so here’s Things About Brian May That Just Make Sense

Owns Groot pajamas

Once apologized for being straight to a guy who asked him out in a hotel lobby

Broke protocol talking to Queen Elizabeth because he couldn’t take the awkward silence

Noticed guys following Freddie into his dressing room and was basically just like “….huh. That’s new” and apparently went about his day (the correct reaction)

Commissioned a second giant statue of Freddie due to being jealous of Roger’s for like a solid decade 

Said his cat was the closest thing he had to a sibling, wrote a song about her when she died

Took a video of himself with the EMTs in an ambulance while LITERALLY HAVING A STROKE

Moved houses, forgot about the whole entire life-sized News of the World robot he had in his attic, was gifted another one by a fan, now has robot in his house somewhere

Once spent entirely too long trying to plug in a completely acoustic instrument

Once turned up to a sound check having forgotten his guitar, didn’t notice until far later than he should have 

Split his head open throwing up in a toilet 

Broke his arm after “losing a fight with a skateboard” 

Tried to get back at Crystal for pranking him, just ended up accidentally buying him breakfast

Bought land, planted trees, made it to be a haven for wildlife

Recorded actual thunder for a song, credited god for it on the album 

Low-key speaks Spanish

Brian: Roger and I used to argue about everything you can think of Also Brian: “special thanks to my most enduring partner, Roger Meddows Taylor—“

Clogs

Volunteered to play on top of Buckingham Palace, was absolutely unimaginably terrified the entire time

Dressed up as a penguin and tried to bond with the penguins on the IGSM video

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ DEFINITIONS OF MUSIC.

fandom. formula one

pairing. charles leclerc x professional pianist fem!reader (fc: none)

about. y/n y/l/n is one of the celebreties who has gone viral during lockdown. when she publishes her first album, she raises a few eyebrows with a featured artist

content warnings. social media au, not edited/proofread

notes. this is a very self-indulgent fic... so you all better love it or else 🫵

YOURUSERNAME AND 3 OTHERS

liked by zendaya, hanszimmer and 14'083'874 others

yourusername and 3 others we're proud to announce the album DEFINITIONS. each of the 26 original composed pieces embrace the title itself, the feeling of these words. they're defined by our language and passion, a gift from us to you.

yourusername so happy our baby is finally out, thank you adrian, charles and jamie, for this partnership. i couldn't have done this without you!

hanszimmer This is music.

charles_leclerc And it's finally here! I had so much fun working on this, thank you @/yourusername for allowing me to be part of your project🥰

jamieduffyy absolutely incredible!! stream definitions now!!!

zendaya I'm sobbing over the whole alphabeth, who would've thought... this is 🤯🤯

user holyyyyy shittttttt

user 26 SONGS??? AND MOST OF THEM ARE OVER 4 MINS LONG WE'RE GETTING SPOILED FR

haileybieber listening this on repeat and still getting shivers, this is incredible work 💗

user the butterfly effect is so real here...

⤷ user if you told me i'd follow this one tiktoker because she went viral with her piano only to become a fan of men who drive in fancy circles...

⤷ user SO I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO'S NOW AN F1 FAN??

user sobbing over nepenthe on repeat

user CHARLES WITH LEMAN?? HELLO??? AND THEN ALSO PHILOCALY??? MY MAN STAND UP AND STOP WRITING LOVE LETTERS

⤷ user what.

⤷ user for the love of god, please look up what the words mean... charles really thought he was slick with this one

⤷ user oh my god.

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Y/N Y/L/N SHOCKS MUSIC WORLD WITH CLASSICAL ALBUM AND FEATURED ARTISTS! FIVE PIECES OF THE 26-PIECE ALBUM ARE IN THE INTERNATIONAL CHARTS. EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT 'DEFINITIONS'.

From Viral TikToker to Record Holder, Y/n brings Classical Music back in Trend.

By Sara Ristan | Published February 24, 2024

If you know anything about music, you know the current trends. Pop and Rap is what the current generation likes, with a few outliners. From the very beginning, Y/n seemed to be one of them as well. Her first release, 'A Sailor's Wish', has been trending along with 'Solas', by her fellow artist Jamie Duffy for many weeks.

Her other composed pieces never hit the same numbers, that was until she released a full album. 'Definitions' has 26 original composed pieces, mixed with piano and full orchestra. It's an album full of masterpieces, fully deserving the high praise it has been receiving the past few days.

Every piece in the Album is named after a rare word, each one of them beginning with a letter of the Alphabet. Most of them were composed by Y/n herself, her signature moves regognizable, if you're familiar with her music. If you wish to read a full analysis of the whole album, click here.

Notable, besides the mindblowing compositions, are also the featured artists. We have Adrian Berenguer, Charles Leclerc and Jamie Duffy- each of them well known in their niche. What has raised eyebrows however, is that unlike Adrian and Jamie, Charles himself. He's an athlete, a Formula One driver in fact and very well known. While his fans knew about his releases, singles and even an album with Sofiane Pamart, no one was prepared for the partnership with Y/n.

Especially the titles of the pieces, two of them speaking about love, one is even titled as 'Leman', which means lover. Are these two trying to give us hints?

Beside that, five of the 26 pieces are currently in the charts, having already gathered millions of streams within days. Absolutely mindblowing!

click to read more

CHARLES_LECLERC

liked by yourusername, zendaya and 3'099'738 others

charles_leclerc P1 in Driver Championship Standings, P1 in International Charts, P1 in your heart... I love you, mon amour

yourusername ugh, ugly sobbing crying rn, no one talk to me

yourusername i love you too you sap

⤷ charles_leclerc Guilty hehe

⤷ charles_leclerc Doesn't stop me from loving you, cherié

⤷ yourusername i never told you to stop

jamieduffy fucking finally

zendaya @/tomholland2013 why don't you write you love songs for me??

⤷ tomholland2013 you're the one who sings?

user WE WON!!! Y/N NATION WE FUCKING WON

user if you squint you can see me fucking dead BECAUSE WTF IS THIS THEYRE ACTUALLY TOGETHER I CAN NOT IM DEAD OH MYGOOODDDDDD

⤷ user lmao felt

user now we know how charles even agreed to y/n asking for a collab... he has always been down bad for her

⤷ yourusername you're so right

⤷ user OH MY GOD???

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taglist. @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote , @lpap , @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

[gay-dorito-dust]

hobie brown (spider-punk!!) is giving me severe brain rot, i love him sm 😭

if you ever decide to write for him, could you do some relationship hcs??

ty ^^

Not sure wether this is what you wanted but I hope it was worth it.

Music from the heart:

One of the most obvious ones is that Hobie would have a plethora of songs about you, it’s fucking adorable and so sweet, and so he would play them for you within the comfort of your room because where else would you rather be serenaded?

If anything it makes the moment more special and memorable for the both of you as something you can look back on with fondness.

Though you probably try teasing him one day by asking how many more songs of you he had in the works and Hobie would either say ‘too many to count.’ Or ��a whole albums worth.’ He’s not going to hide the fact that he’s got notebook after notebook filled with song lyrics dedicated to you.

Pda though not quite:

Hobie isn’t the type to heavily involve himself in PDA but isn’t against the likes of:

holding hands.

his hand being placed on the small of your back when guiding you somewhere else.

the classic arm over the shoulder.

Thigh holding

His/ your head resting on each others shoulders and or laps.

Guitar pick:

This one came to my head out of the blue but I’m gonna add it here even though I’m not too certain but here it is anyway:

if Hobie uses guitar picks to play his guitar -which he probs doesn’t but idk- I’d like to think he’d make you a guitar pick necklace from one of his old picks.

Sure he hates gifts and such but this is the sole expectation alongside any and all handcrafted jewellery you may give him because he wears that shit with pride.

Terms of endearment:

Love

Darling

Sweetheart

Impromptu sleepovers:

Hobie crashes at your place more often then not to the point he might as well be living with you in regards of how often he leaves something of his at yours, so much so you’ve begun to wonder if he was doing it intentionally or accidentally.

Either way you made sure that his stay was comfortable by having a makeshift bed set up for him so he didn’t have to constantly sleep on the uncomfortable couch and wake up with a crooked neck.

Hobie appreciates all that you do for him but would often tell you it’s not necessary but you weren’t about to get into a discussion about whether or not he was deserving of help because the answer was obvious and that answer would always and forever will be; yes.

Also he’s a bit of a cuddle bug but only with you but that’s your little secrete.

Date nights:

Most, if not all of your dates are either just the pair of you being your natural selves in the comfort of your own home where’d you would talk about anything and everything that came to your mind, free of judgment.

or

showing Hobie your undying love and support by showing up to his gigs and scream the loudest because he is talented as shit and deserves a lot more in your eyes.

Either way as long as you were within each others company, anywhere you both went could be considered a date.

Spidey business:

Now this is all dependant on wether or not you know he’s Spider-Man:

If you did then you’d probably would help him patch up his wounds after every fight he had

Or

If you weren’t due to Hobie wanting nothing more then to keep you and that life as far from each other as possible, you’d most definitely would be concerned when you see him with any sustained injuries he tried patching up himself.

No matter how hard you try to get him to tell you what’s wrong, Hobie would just tell you it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

Meeting his friends/ Bragging rights:

Before introducing you to the likes of Pavitr, Miles and Gwen(if you haven’t already met her), it’s almost an 100% guarantee that he brags about you anyway he knows how which only intrigues them more and more to the point they’re just pleading with Hobie to introduce his cool, kickass partner to them.

So when he does, the three are practically hounding you about your relationship with Hobie and when you looked back at him for help in wrangling in his over excited friends, the little shit merely smirks and shrugs his shoulders as though he had no idea they’d react like this, all the while leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest; happy to see all his favourite people he cares about a lot interacting with one another to the point that by the end of the day you’re very good friends with each of them.

[goquokka00]

The Little Things (Jisung Ver.)

The small things he does every day that make you feel oh, so special.

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

| Compares Hands |

Jisung is one of those people where I just get the vibe where he'd be one to regularly compare his hands to yours. Why? I don't know. But I just get the feeling that whenever the two of you are cuddling, Jisung's got your hand in his, and he's just...comparing them.

Your hands are so different compared to his. They're smaller, so much more feminine. They're so soft, probably because you use that one lotion you hidden from him every day on them. They're nothing like his, which we've seen pictures of them and dear GOD, his hands are absolutely fine. They're veiny and long, they're probably rough, but are just so gentle.

A lot of times, Jisung will take your hand and place it against his to directly compare them. And he'll comment on it, too. "Your hands are so cute, baby," or, "Our hands look so perfect together." They're never bad comments, he just likes to tell you how he feels.

| Shares Earbuds |

This is probably a given. Jisung loves music, and we all know this. And that means he's open to hearing a whole variety of music, mainly to help inspire him for songs for Stray Kids. Where else is better to get that than from the person he loves the most?

If you guys are ever out in public or walking around, Jisung will almost ask for an earbud so he can listen to whatever you're listening to. It doesn't matter what you're music tastes are, either. Kpop, rock and roll, pop, country, hip hop, rap, indie, latin, jazz, he'll listen to it all. And if he recognizes the song, he'll happily sing the lyrics.

There are other times where Jisung will want to share his earbud with you, too. I feel like he wouldn't play any spoilers for upcoming albums (Bangchan would murder him alive), but he'd play music that he listens to regularly, wanting to expand your own horizons. As a bonus, I also think that the two of you would make one big playlist of both of your favorites, and you'd listen to that together a lot.

| Holds Your Arm |

Jisung really likes to be close to you at all times. And that means that whenever you two are shopping, or going to different places outside of JYPE or your work area, or even the apartment, there are times where his arms are wrapped around whichever arm of yours is closest to him. Sometimes your arms are linked, but other times, he's clinging to your arm.

I do have a strong feeling that he'd mostly do this if his anxiety was acting up. If he was starting to spiral because of crowds, or his thoughts were overwhelming him because of work, he'd cling to you to try and ground himself. And of course, you'd be there to comfort him.

He'd probably apologize for it. He'd feel bad because you'd have to put up with him like that. But you really don't care. You'd gently rub his hand, keeping it there while guiding him to a less populated area so you two could chill and just breathe. And while he'd feel guilty, Jisung would be so grateful for it.

| Back Hugs in the Morning |

I've said this once in my first ever post, and I'll happily say it again. I am a firm believer of Jisung not being a morning person at all. The late nights down at the studio, writing songs for hours until the early hours of the morning just drain him, and getting up is quite literally a chore in Jisung's mind.

And so, while you're probably making breakfast, I think that Jisung would be the kind of person to come up behind you and pull you back against his chest, the man still half-asleep as he rests his head on your shoulder. He refuses to talk, as it takes too much energy. And so all you get are grunts, hums, and any other noises he decides to make.

Jisung will just cling to you for as long as he needs. If you need to walk to a different area of the kitchen while you're cooking, Jisung will just follow you, not giving you any space whatsoever. Even when he's finally awake and alert, he's not letting you go. At least, not until he gets his good morning kiss.

| Spoils You |

Guys, I kid you not, Jisung will buy you anything and everything you want. You want food from that one restaurant you went to a few weeks ago? Done. You spotted a sweater that you really like? It's yours. You need something for a hobby of yours? Say no more. As long as you're happy, Jisung's happy.

It doesn't even matter how expensive it is. Nothing is too expensive if it's for you. You can complain all you want, too. You don't want him to spend all of his money on you? Too bad. You're happy with just being his? Yeah, but Jisung wants to make you even happier.

I also have this irk that Jisung would buy you souvenirs from wherever he travels to. If it reminds him of you, he'll buy it for you and then give it to you once he gets back to South Korea. And I'm not kidding you, this man would be like so giddy as he watches you react to each and every single gift. He just loves to spoil you beyond belief, and he will NEVER stop.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Ok hear me out: Vessel has a gf (reader) who doesn’t know he’s Vessel but he wants to tell her and is super nervous because he‘s revealing such a big part of himself and he‘s kinda afraid that she‘ll be mad because he kept such a big secret from her (but ofc she‘s not mad duh)?? 😭

Fucking loved writing this my god…

That other side of me

He wasn’t sure why exactly he had kept it to himself for so long. Well, lie, he knew why or at least one side of why. People usually changed after that. There had been partners who hadn’t even been all that interested in anything serious before his admission. The eyes then sparked with possibilities - no longer love. So Vessel had gone careful with who he let in on the secret of his real and main job.

The first time he was hit with a wave of panic over this was when you had invited him over to spend the night. That whole concept was scary in itself. Because it had been a while since he had a serious relationship and at that time he was still waiting for it all to crumble somehow. You had been making tea in the kitchen when he saw it. A stack of sleep token records. His heart plummeted to the ground as anxiety surged up, he quickly pulled out his phone sending an almost gibberish text to the group chat along with a blurry picture - she’s a fucking fan.

“What’s this?”, Vessel had lifted the vinyl record as you walked back into the room. “Sleep token”, you mussed, “Have you heard of them? I swear every time I bring them up everyone’s like huh?”, you rambled on, “But they are so good and… you said that you liked this genre of music, I think you would love them”. Vessel probably looked like an absolute idiot standing with his mouth slightly open as he watched you. Your happiness seemed so genuine he could cry. “I’ll look into it”, he had muttered, setting the vinyl down. “I can send you my faves but you would probably have a whole album worth of song to listen”, you chuckled, settling down on the sofa beside him.

That and many more moments played in Vessel’s mind for weeks. The sound of you humming his songs. A shirt with their band symbol you wore to your fifth date. “I say just go for it”, iii shrugged during one of the rehearsals. “Like what’s worse that could happen?”, ii added. “She’s like all the others- a fame chaser and I will lose the best thing I had in ages”, Vessel sighed. “Shit, that’s dark”, iii blew out a breath. “But do you think she’s a gold digger? You talk completely differently about her than the girls you mingled with before”, iv pointed out. Vessel was about to answer when his phone pinged. He sighed before turning it to the boys. “Remind me again when you leave? Cause I’m looking at sleep token tickets wondering if we could find a date that works for us both” - it read. “You got yourself in a fine pickle here, mate”, iii chuckled. “Bring her backstage”, ii suggested. “And kill an innocent girl with a heart attack? You all are idiots”, iv shook his head.

And now he has sat in your apartment once again with days left before he was off to tour. Watching you make a list of things he should pack as you stirred dinner with one hand. “Wait you said registered luggage right? So nothing is off limits”, you looked over your shoulder catching a totally zoned-out Vessel. “Vess”, you said softly lowering the heat before turning to him. “What’s wrong? You’ve been off the past couple of days”, you gently brushed some of the hair away from his face, lifting his chin. He watched you for a moment before clearing his throat, “We need to talk”. Your body instantly gets ridged.

“You’re breaking up with me aren’t you”, you muttered, feeling your eyes sting instantly. “No, no, fuck no”, he reached for your hand pulling you closer to him. “It’s about sleep token”, Vessel muttered, against your stomach before lifting his head. “What?”, you frowned, “Vess, if you don’t like them I’m not some deranged fan, we can still date”, you shook your head. Vessel ran a hand over his face, taking a deep breath in, “I’m the lead singer. It’s my bad you like”. Your face blanked for a moment before you let out a light laugh, “Very funny”.

“I’m serious”, Vessel nodded, “Come to the show I will bring you backstage, can take the mask off me yourself”. He watched as all the gears slowly turned before you let out a laugh. “I thought I was losing my mind cause you smiled a couple of weeks back and it was so Vessel, I thought I had just…”, you shook your head, “shit, oh my god… I showed you my shrine…”, you whined hiding your face in your hands. Vessel chuckled pulling at your wrists, “It was cute”, “Cute? You probably think I’m crazy”, you grunted.

“I just didn’t want this to change anything between us”, Vessel admitted. “No, I… look if you want I can pretend that you are going on a work trip and I don’t have to be a part of that side of your life. I can sell the tickets and take down…”, “Okay, take a deep breath”, Vessel cuts you off, threading his fingers through yours. “I like that you’re a fan and I want you at the shows”, he reassured you. “I can sign papers if you want but I won’t say anything to anyone I… I’m dating you a tall nerdy guy, not Vessel”, you leaned in cupping your face, “Even if it’s fucking sexy to think…”, you chuckled making Vessel let out a light laugh as well. “I love you”, he muttered, “and I you. This you”, you tapped at his chest, “that another side is a nice addition but it doesn’t matter to me”.

[jensettermandu]

vampire - aeri uchinaga

genre; angst, fluff (not much), sfw

pairing; giselle x female reader

content; unhealthy relationship; poor communication, 'i can fix her' - aeri, 'hot and cold' - y/n, arguments, jealousy, and toxicity in general. 6th member of lsfm, 01' liner.

synopsis; aeri can't help but feel like she's in a relationship with a vampire the way her girlfriend bleeds her dry, but she also can't help but continue to feed into all of her whims and desires despite it feeling like she isn't getting a drop of blood back.

wc; 7.6k+

songs; big city blues - lil peep , risqué - cute is what we aim for , tragic girl - weezer , candles - juice wrld , your favourite dress - lil peep/lil tracy

masterlist

“I missed you,”

Aeri expected to hear the same words back, but she should have known better, however, Y/n was impossible to read most of the time. It had been over a year yet Aeri felt like she was at times still on the same page as when she first talked to the girl. 

Y/N was impossible to learn because she changed more than the weather. Her girlfriend was hard to love, but even harder to understand for anyone, yet Aeri was putting her whole heart on the line and would always take a leap of faith for Y/n. There was no transparency to her, but there were cracks at times. 

It wasn’t Y/n that messed up, but Aeri saying these words of affection after longing for someone she viewed as her other half. She shouldn’t have said that she had been longing after her. It wasn’t even metaphorical; a wall dropped down between them and Y/n was no longer in her arms.

“Yeah well, you wouldn’t miss me so much if you decided to spend more time with me.”

She forgot how cold the nights could get at times, especially when they weren’t in each other’s arms. The days ran busy and nights were used to suffice exhaustion and she knew that she had spent less time with her girlfriend. Y/n was high-maintenance as her friends had told her; Y/n’s friends included. 

It didn’t help that they both lived in dorms and it did limit them at times. 

Y/n was also hot and cold.

Their meetings felt almost like secret affairs which Y/n would complain about now and then. The quiet–in Aeri’s opinion serene and intimate–rendezvous after dark with just them and no one else around as they would walk along the sidewalks, talking, gazing, sharing a bond and intimacy. 

The wind somewhat howled as it blew from the corner of the apartment building’s rounding. Aeri had yet to move as she watched Y/n’s slim figure walking away from her, the only small light being the one from the girl’s phone. 

How much sacrifice was love worth?

Aeri wasn’t going to put a limit now; she was ready to go until she dropped dead with no heart left to keep her alive because Y/n had consumed it all; blood and flesh because she was aware of how selfish the girl could be. She could hand her her heart, but Y/n would grab her whole and rip her to shreds to fulfil her hunger; with Aeri possibly getting something back. 

It didn’t end there because Y/n would then spit her right back out.

It was what she wanted in the end; for Y/n to just want her too, no matter how she wanted her as long as she did even if the girl didn’t want her after.

Could she blame Y/n? No. She was aware that her girlfriend had been through a lot, that it all led to walls being put up and that whenever something was off the smallest amount; new walls dropped. Aeri was willing to sacrifice for her love; she was stuck with the mentality of being able to help Y/n.

One step forward could at times mean ten steps backwards though.

It had been a long day, she should have been back in the dorm, sleeping, they were still promoting their new album. Aeri was drained as it was, but she was offering herself for Y/n’s sake. 

“Y/n, I’m not in the mood to run after you tonight.” Her tone was somewhere between pleading yet firm, walking a thin line because she knew what the wrong type of tone led to. 

“As if I could expect that from you.” She barely caught it and shoved her hands into her pants pockets, refusing to follow. 

Her eyes stuck on the girl who was taking long yet languid steps, dressed in a black skirt, ripped tights, white tank top with a zip-up that was sliding down her shoulder. Aeri’s zip-up hoodie as she stood in just her t-shirt after giving it to Y/n. 

How long did she stand still? Fighting the urge so she wouldn’t run after Y/n like she always did. It was as if something was pulling her after the girl, perhaps the invincible collar that Y/n had on her while at the same time, she tried to fight against its every tug.

She remembered what truly had pulled her towards the girl, to begin with, and what tied her to Y/n. It was physical attraction when she first saw her, then came the attraction after seeing how similar they were in interests to aesthetics and at last, she spoke to the girl and realised that she would fall. 

She did.

Aeri walked right after Y/n because she wasn’t going to limit her love for the girl. There was no love without pain, right? Y/n was worth getting hurt for, she was sure that she could mend what was shattered inside her girlfriend, but it would only be possible if she followed her even if it was blindly.

“Okay wait.” She gave in at last as she took a few long strides towards her girlfriend, slipping her hand into Y/n’s. Maybe those constant texts and calls weren’t enough throughout the days; she could do more than text and call. 

Her fingers intertwined with Y/n’s who looked at her with her piercing gaze, the one that devoured Aeri from the outside. However, it would eat long enough until she was consumed whole. 

“I wanna take you on a date, I have a day off Monday.” She could make it up, she always did even if she wasn’t sure if there was much she had to make up for. Aeri would still do it for Y/n. It wasn’t like she could do much about her schedule, but there was always a way to give more than she already had. 

She refused to let Y/n slip through her fingers. 

The wall was still there and she knew that she needed to make up for it to come back down. Y/n would be distant, it would be cold, again, until those icebergs melted. 

Y/n looked uninterested, her eyes vacant and Aeri always tried to occupy them. To fit into Y/n’s gaze, to reflect in her eyes and to feel seen. At times she wondered if Y/n’s heart at least sped up at times because of her, if it was even beating to begin with. How did someone manage to be so cold yet magnetise like a warm fire? 

She reached her hand up to the girl’s face as the wind blew, fixing the loose strands of layered hair. “Fine–” She pursed her lips as Y/n moved her face away and dropped her hand. It did ache, it did make a fear run across her spine; how much did she mess up this time? When would she pushed away far enough by Y/n to lose her? Why was she always so apprehensive around Y/n? “I still want to go home, I’m tired.” 

What had it been? 30 minutes since they met up? Aeri spent more time getting to the place together with getting back than she had spent with her girlfriend. It was still worth it. Those 30 minutes with Y/n were worth it. She had grown to realise that it was better to take whatever she got at times. 

She had missed the girl in the end after the distance between them due to work.

“Y/n,” Aeri started as they stood face to face, Y/n’s gaze didn’t falter while hers had to wander away every three seconds. “I’m sorry, I promise to make it up to you.” 

“I know. You promise each time.” 

She swallowed down the heaviness of not being able to take care of Y/n like she wanted to and always tried to. She was only able to speculate what could be going through Y/n’s head at the moment or ever for that matter. It felt like she had never been let inside; it wasn’t a feeling, it was the truth. That was why she clutched the small crumbs dearly.

“I’m for real this time.” 

“I’m aware.” 

An awkwardness fell upon her, knowing that she made more promises than she could handle. She at times had to cancel because of work. She still made up every time, yet every time it still got distant from Y/n’s side.

“Are you mad?”

“No.” That meant yes, she knew that much about her girlfriend. Aeri would say that she was thankful that Y/n’s manager pulled over by the curb, saving her from any more opportunities to mess up again. 

She couldn’t just let her go like that, “I love you,” she reminded and for a moment she hesitated. Aeri leaned in and got the cheek turned to her which she settled for. “Yeah, love you.” The words felt thrown and she was fully aware that Y/n was mad at her despite all her efforts to see her amidst her busy schedule as the car drove off.

“Awh, that’s so cute.” Yunjin cooed, being quicker to the gift by Y/n’s makeup spot than the girl herself. The other girl walked around Yunjin and took her seat in the makeup chair as the green room was starting to crowd. 

A cute black bat plushie, Y/n rolled her eyes, her hands reached for the small envelope stuck to it together with a blood-red rose. She opened it, somewhat already expecting what would be said. Aeri often sent her gifts, but the older tended to send them more often on these occasions. 

‘I’m packed today, but I fixed everything for you, I will call you when I get home. Love you <3’

Aeri’s care was overwhelming and Y/n couldn’t figure out if she was overcaring, overdoing it just to fool her or if it was out of genuine care and love. It only filled up the balloon of anxiety and distrust towards her girlfriend instead of doing the opposite for Y/n. What were her intentions? People always had ulterior motives, didn’t they? Was anyone just nice to be nice?

Y/n knew what love was. 

“What did it say?” Yunjin’s curiosity never subsided as she found herself more nosy than Y/n would deem acceptable. 

“The same.” She mumbled, haphazardly handing the note to her side and the girl beside her took it.

“I think it’s the thought that counts, she could have just sent a text.”

Why would Aeri go out of her way? It only made Y/n run more leery. 

It wasn’t the same words every time, but each time she wouldn’t be able to talk throughout the days she sent gifts and other things. Was it to make up for it? Y/n had no clue. 

Y/n would prefer a short text over the care.

She reached for the plushie and looked over her shoulder at the glimpse of a shadow that passed them. “Eunchae–” The girl was cut short by Yunjin who grabbed hold of the plushie, catching the rose that was about to fall.

“No, you can’t just give it away.” She clicked her tongue and grabbed the stuff, the note included before she turned around and handed it over to a passing manager who would bring it to the car. 

Yunjin was close with Aeri; she was the one who gave her Y/n’s number and was there when they first met as it was disguised as a casual hangout. She was the one who without Y/n’s knowledge possibly slipped up and mentioned that Y/n was high maintenance, but would also draw back despite wanting care. It was an accident. All in all, she was always there for Y/n as her friend. 

“It’s only a matter of time until she retreats and leaves me to grasp for crumbs. It’s always the same.” Y/n muttered, looking over her nails, trying not to give into the overwhelming emotions that continued to fill the balloon every day. There was a reason to let Aeri close, but not too close, too close meant that she could hurt her if she let all the walls down. 

“Why not talk to her about it then?” Y/n’s eyes moved up and looked in the mirror at Sakura’s voice who sat down on the chair beside her. They carefully moved to Yunjin for reassurance of what she thought about those words, but all she got was an unfortunate nod of agreement. 

“About what?”

“Your insecurities, fears, the fact that you’ve had terrible experiences with your previous partners.” Yunjin started to list the things, not beating around the bush, however, her tone held genuine care and compassion to try and help her friend. 

“So she can use it against me?” Was the first thing that came to Y/n’s mind at the suggestion, making the two older girls share a look; it wasn’t as easy as they wished it was. Y/n too wished it was easier, but when she found warmth and comfort behind cold walls, it was hard to let them down. If something happened before, what reassured her that it wouldn’t happen again? 

Just because it was Aeri, didn’t mean that it couldn’t happen. Y/n was aware that she could never completely know someone; never 100% and that she would always have to trust her for her words. The issue was that Y/n couldn’t do that; trust gestures or words.

“Why would she do that?” Sakura genuinely questioned and Y/n got up from her seat at the call of her manager about food; yet another gesture of Aeri to make sure that she ate.

“I already regret telling any of you anything at all.” The girl honestly spoke as the help only got overwhelming because it left her in more conflict. 

“That’s not very nice of you.” She pushed past Yunjin, ignoring her further complaints about being hurt as she grabbed Kazuha to eat with her instead. 

Not let Aeri close enough to hurt her.

Aeri sighed and tossed her phone to the side, trying to figure out what she did wrong this time. At this point, she was close to believing that she possibly sent the wrong type of food to the girl. It was ridiculous and she was painfully aware of it yet she did nothing about it, but continued trying. 

She couldn’t help the fact that she cared, being fully aware that Y/n wanted her to care even if it left her misled because of how Y/n also pushed her away. 

The darkness in her room was lit up as she got a notification and she blindly reached for her phone.

: stuck at practice, let’s talk later

: ok, lemme know when you’re back 

: Love you, take care and don’t push yourself too far

She watched as the message was read, but she got nothing sent back which elicited a groan from between her lips. The guessing game was impossible to win; did Y/n want her to care or not? Did she want an ‘I love you’ or not? If she did and Aeri didn’t send it to her she would grow cold, but if she didn’t want it and she still sent it, Aeri felt like a fool. 

This was the girlfriend she wanted, this was the girlfriend she fed her every drop of blood to the way she sucked her dry and left her with no energy. 

With the phone resting on her chest she stared at the dark ceiling, it was nearing midnight and all she wanted to do was talk on the phone with Y/n until she would doze off. All she wanted to do was make sure that Y/n wasn’t overworking herself and that she was fine, but she didn’t want to be too much at the moment. Aeri figured that Y/n needed her space after the staleness that grew after they saw each other. 

In the end, guessing was all that she could do.

She was snapped out of it when the door opened, saving her from the overthinking that always turned melancholic.

Y/n learned that she could probably stare at the messages with her girlfriends for hours as she waited for an answer. It was past midnight and she was in the car with Chaewon who she had stayed behind with. 

It had been a good ten minutes since she texted Aeri.

She didn’t have the time to reply earlier; at least that was her excuse to make herself seem less cold. It left her guilty otherwise because she did care, but how did she show that without having to be vulnerable? Without having to let her girlfriend closer?

Ten minutes of waiting for an answer.

Ten minutes too long. 

She left the chat and opened her socials. The girl sunk into her seat, biting the nail of her thumb as she felt that green garden growing inside her. Aeri wasn’t obliged to be live on Instagram with Minjeong, ignoring her texts or at least not answering them. She didn’t like feeling jealous, it always made her melt into a miserable puddle that had no clue how to express it because of the susceptibility it made her feel. 

She hated that one person was able to affect her this much. That one person was able to hurt her at any moment. That something this small could affect her at times. 

At least an answer would make her feel better, but Aeri seemed too busy with her friend. Was it because she had accidentally let Aeri past too many walls? Her fingers wouldn’t be trembling from overwhelming emotions if she had kept her at arm's length. It meant that she had let her closer than she dared.

Grief turned to anger and Y/n could only blame herself for being vulnerable enough to get hurt by this. To get hurt in the first place.

Aeri knew that she was in shambles when Y/n hadn’t replied to her texts, she replied exactly 15 minutes later, and all her calls had led to the automated voicemail. She had gone to bed, barely able to sleep, without any goodnight or I love you, and there hadn’t been any answers in the morning either.

Her last hope had been Yunjin. Her schedule had come to an end at around 7 P.M. With still no answer from her girlfriend, she called Yunjin. Even though it wasn’t the first time that she had been ignored for hours, it still left her worried each time. 

It somewhat irked Aeri to hear that Y/n had been at the company building the whole day and didn’t have more than the practice that ended at noon. It irked her that she had been ignoring Aeri without letting her know why, all she knew was that she somehow messed up. How? When? What was it? What did she do? She had to guess, again.

What irked her the most after her call with Yunjin was that Y/n was with Kazuha. 

She wouldn’t have minded if she had at least gotten a single reply. 

It wasn’t something she could help, but she had always been the slightest bit jealous when it came to Kazuha. Oh how much she hated it, to be jealous of someone who was Y/n’s group member. However, she felt like she had every right to hate it and be pissed about the proximity of Y/n and Kazuha’s relationship.

What was she angry about while sitting in the back of the car? That green mixed with red, angry about how the girl was always there when Aeri messed up and was always the one comforting her girlfriend. Someone had to, that someone should be Aeri, but instead, whenever she wanted to apologise, make up for it, and be there for Y/n…Kazuha was somehow always already there, witnessing Aeri at her worst while soothing Y/n, making it look like she only knew how to hurt and mess up.

Far from the truth. She hoped. Aeri had managed to grow insecure as their relationship progressed; regressed would be a better term. 

What hurt the most was that deep down she was aware that Y/n possibly didn’t trust her enough to find comfort in her.

All she wanted was for Y/n to open up to her. All she got was drained while watching her girlfriend open up to someone else about the problems of their relationship, but never to her. She had tried to bring them up, but it had always been a one-sided conversation. 

“Does she think that I’m enough? I get shut out when I mess up, I get shut out when she opens up…I’m honestly so confused at times.” Aeri frowned, unsure where she got the urge to suddenly start spilling out her feelings to Yunjin. There had been a heavy feeling in her chest, she wanted to be perfect for Y/n, to care for her and love her.

“I’m not even sure how I messed up this time.” She somewhat exclaimed in exhaustion, her voice leaving that timid whisper-like tone, with her arms gesturing outwards before falling to her sides. 

Aeri sighed to gather herself and not get too emotional, knowing well that Y/n and love were a sensitive topic for her because she loved her so much that she couldn’t love more. It was frustrating enough that she couldn’t show it in any more ways. 

She stared at the metal doors of the elevator they were in and looked to her side as Yunjin squeezed her shoulder to comfort her.

“I don’t think it’s that.” Yunjin shortly replied, sounding like she may had an idea what it would be.

Aeri raised her eyebrows in question at the words. Yunjin looked off to the side at the numbers that went up about to reach the floor. She clicked her tongue and heaved a sigh–probably not in the position to make statements–she knew what it was in the end.

“It’s not because you mess up that she distances herself—” Yunjin started and took the first steps towards the doors that had slid open as she quietly finished, “it’s because you don’t.” 

Aeri has put up with it, she had been standing in Y/n’s burning home despite being far from fireproof. She put up with the pain for Y/n, willing to stand in what was her home that was burning; Y/n’s whole world was on fire. Aeri wanted to put it out and help her see that just because the inside of a home was up in flames: it didn’t mean that everything outside of it was burning to the ground too. 

It seemed to have a different outcome and her not messing up, showing how much love there was, only made the fire ablaze and out of control.

She wasn’t going to stop though.

A long pause came—a silence that no one breached for the next few seconds—when Yunjin opened the door to the room where Y/n was. Kazuha included of course.

Jealousy bubbled inside her, Aeri never wanted to be that type, but it was impossible when it came to Y/n. The small couch was occupied by the two, Y/n’s legs thrown over Kazuha’s and they barely made an effort to look at them until Yunjin called for the younger. 

She felt stupid, but her heart knew what it felt and why it hurt, why it made her feel sick. She had too many feelings for Y/n to not feel like a part of her would rot every time she got jealous. It was ugly in the end, but she couldn’t help it when she saw someone she tried everything for open up within seconds to someone who wasn’t her. 

She bunched up the material of her jacket as she watched Y/n lift her head from Kazuha’s shoulder who unwrapped her arms from around her waist. Her eyes fell on Y/n who was already looking back at her and amongst all this, at least her presence was acknowledged and not ignored, Aeri already felt foolish enough.

The door closed after they left and Y/n leaned back on the couch, crossing her legs as she looked at her nails while picking at them. She knew what was wrong, she knew that Aeri would show up at some point, however, she had hoped that she wouldn’t because it would be easier to stay upset. To blame her for something (anything) and push her away for it even if Y/n had wanted nothing more than to spend a day with the girl who sat down on the other end of the couch.

Arms distance was still better, wasn’t it?

“Why do you treat me like–” Aeri started but stopped, her lips pursed and she took in a breath, deciding to consider her words first. With a sigh she averted her gaze towards her girlfriend, barely being able to feel her presence because of the walls that the girl had put between them. 

Was she supposed to get on her knees and beg for forgiveness? Was Aeri supposed to let Y/n tug her closer by the collar she had on her like always? To give in the way she always did. She had been patient for so long and nothing was working, the only thing she wanted was for it to work. It wouldn’t, not if she kept avoiding everything wrong for Y/n’s sake if she ignored it because Y/n didn’t want to ever talk about it. 

She had been doing everything for the girl, but nothing for their relationship to actually work out like it should. 

“I don’t like how close you two are at times,” Aeri admitted, deciding to be truthful, to be open about the ugliness that didn’t have to be there if they only talked about it. 

She for the first time in the one year they had been together brought up a problem without beating around the bush; Y/n always ran away from all problems, especially if she tried to talk about them and it made Aeri look like a terrible person. 

“It was fine for you to be all over Minjeong on live though, I wasn’t comfortable with that.” In contrast to Aeri’s calm tone, Y/n spat venom at her. She could see the walls growing taller by the second as it started right after she brought it up. It was always the same, nothing changed yet it always hurt no matter how used she was to it.

“I wasn’t all over her, plus we were live, obviously I will be a bit closer and you know it yourself Y/n. We are in the same industry.” Her fingers threaded through her hair, sighing at the emotions that were bubbling inside her chest. “What I don’t understand is why you would be so close to her when no cameras or fans are watching. I get it, but there is a limit even between friends.” In the end, Aeri wouldn’t mind, but it was a bit too much for her to be comfortable with it. 

It could be mistaken; Kazuha could be mistaken for Y/n’s girlfriend and Aeri for her friend.

Y/n could feel the walls closing in on her, she had always found comfort in the walls she put up. These walls were ones that Aeri was pushing past and it was all closing in on her, leaving her with no room to breathe. All she needed was a way out before it would become overwhelming and she would be unable to breathe. Aeri was getting too close–arm's length, she was past that–and Y/n wanted to run, but her feet were stuck to the ground.

“Maybe because my girlfriend doesn’t have the time to give me what I need. I needed to talk to you, I wanted to be with you—” All her defences went up as she tried her best to crawl into her shell of safety in case Aeri managed to crumble her walls. “You were too busy being on a live you weren’t obliged to be part of.” The girl scoffed out, in disbelief. 

Y/n hated how gently the girl was doing it, that she wasn’t wrecking them like everyone else had always done. All those times her walls were forcefully broken down and she was wrecked together with those walls. Why couldn’t Aeri wreck all her walls and her like the rest? Why couldn’t she hurt her and be familiar? 

It made red lights go off in Y/n’s head as she stood up from the couch. One thing in mind: Aeri was coming in softly and would wreck her, ruin her worse than anyone else had managed to do because she would have Y/n in her arms when doing it. She would get close enough for it to hurt more than anyone had been able to hurt her because she would be on the inside. 

Love had turned into logic for Y/n; this was like a trojan horse. 

“You were too busy taking care of someone else, someone who you see every day.” 

“I’m always there for you though, I just happened to be away from my phone for a few minutes and you made it a big deal.” She reasoned, watching the girl anxiously pull on the sleeves of her sweater. Even if the girl was a closed and locked book, Aeri could read Y/n when it came to certain things. She took her time to analyse the small details on the outside and the tiny peeks she got on the inside. 

Enough to know that everything was burning on the inside. Enough to know that Y/n was doing everything to turn it around and make it easier for herself to push away Aeri again. 

“Why do you invalidate my feelings, Aeri? You don’t know what I felt or what I feel and when I try to tell you about it, you say it’s the opposite.” 

And she knew enough to know that it would start draining her again. Aeri didn’t want to fight with Y/n so she caved before she even managed to start. She felt like Y/n’s marionette, however, she was fully aware of how she was controlled and bent to her master’s every whim and desires. 

“Hey–” She clicked her tongue and grabbed hold of Y/n’s hand, gently pulling the girl over to her. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like your feelings aren’t valid, they are and always will be.” It came with ease, to give into Y/n came naturally to her as she pulled the girl to sit down beside her on the couch. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She continued, being okay with being wrong as long as Y/n was there.

Y/n couldn’t determine whether or not she liked that Aeri gave in the way she did. She expected her to fight, to drill on until Y/n couldn’t defend herself until she was destroyed. No matter how much her mind told her to run, her heart melted as she got pulled into a hug. It was an embrace she had always needed from someone who was more than a friend, even if it was scary it was comforting. 

It was hard to distinguish whether it was excitement or fear that she felt at the moment, but she loved the feeling. She loved Aeri.

Aeri rested her chin on Y/n’s shoulder, pulling her closer at the tickling feeling of the girl’s breath hitting her neck who ended up in her lap, sitting sideways. Her eyes glanced down and she intertwined her fingers with Y/n’s, caressing the smooth skin with the tenderness she had for her. This was all she wanted.

“I love you, Y/n.” She reminded her that all that she did in the end was love and care for her. 

It followed with a small silence as she stared ahead at the empty wall, she wasn’t worried because she knew where Y/n’s heart lay. Not necessarily fully in her hands, but she could touch it with her fingertips and feel its pulse. 

“I love you,” Y/n loved her even if she had yet to fully trust her. 

Aeri lifted her chin as Y/n pulled back and she looked up at the girl in her lap, her hand caressing the small of her back. It was these moments where there were cracks in Y/n’s walls and it made Aeri’s heart speed up at the vulnerability she could see in Y/n’s eyes. It sped up because of the relief knowing it was possible to delicately get past those walls, but it also sped up in fear; knowing it was only a matter of time before that one step forward would end up with ten steps back.

She untangled her fingers and moved her hand over to Y/n’s face who this time didn’t pull away, but leaned in as she pushed aside her hair before cradling her cheek in her palm. Their eyes met, Y/n’s fingers fiddled with the baby hairs at her nape, her arms loosely around her shoulders. 

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” She asked, not wanting to feel her chest tighten at the girl turning her cheek again. Her eyes glanced down at the full lips, the girl’s tongue coming out and poking at the corner of her glossy lips. 

A mere ghost brushed past her lips when Y/n leaned closer before letting Aeri close the little space left between them. Y/n couldn’t deny that she loved how Aeri kissed her, how she held her, how she took care of her, and how tender and filled with love it all was. She loved how it made her heart go into a crescendo. 

Yet Aeri cared too much—she had always been caring and it wasn’t obnoxiously so, but giving an abused dog a treat won't make it trust the person, it won’t probably touch it in fear that it is used to deceive to be able to hurt it after. It made the treat it so much wanted turn obnoxious.

She traced patterns over her back as they pulled away, fingers playing with Y/n’s hair as she admired her face from close, missing her girlfriend because she never felt like she truly got her. That distance strained them and made it difficult to stay warm in the cold. 

“I just want this to work out.” It was a small whisper as if saying it too loud would harm them, but it harmed everything anyway. She could feel the mood shift in how Y/n’s body got less relaxed in her hold. 

“It is working out, there’s no need to bring it up,” Y/n argued, liking it when they were like this. When they were in a spot where she could have Aeri right there whenever she wanted, but also put space between them whenever she wanted. It had worked so far; at least Y/n liked to think it did because it worked for her. 

She wasn’t selfish enough to not notice that it was only working in her favour, that Aeri always gave in while suffering. However, she had been selfish enough to keep at it; to fill her needs and then disappear when Aeri offered a bit too much and she knew that she had to give something in return. To let her guard down.

“You’re choosing ignorance, Y/n. I don’t want that.”  It was hurting Y/n as much as it did Aeri who didn’t want the girl to hurt when they chose ignorance. Aeri frowned and Y/n was slipping through her fingers again and the heat turned into cold as the girl moved away from her. She watched Y/n who placed her head in her palms, elbows resting on her knees while she took deep breaths. 

“Why can’t you just choose to be ignorant for once too?” She wasn’t taken aback when Y/n snapped at her. The warmth was gone from her eyes and they were once again filled with that vacancy and anger to this time.

She knew where this was heading. ‘It’s not because you mess up that she distances herself, it’s because you don’t.’ She was aware of how Y/n always twisted everything until Aeri was stuck in a corner where she could only mess up because of the pressure of being put in that situation, to begin with. It was draining her; how long could she take this? How long could she put up with it out of pure love?

“Why do you always have to make things so complicated for no reason?” Her girlfriend continued as she looked at Aeri in disbelief.

It hurt when she only wanted the best for Y/n, for them, but maybe she didn’t know what the best was. 

“I’m doing it for a reason, I’m doing it because I care about you, I love you and want the best for you, for us and we can’t have that if—” 

Y/n stood up in frustration, cutting her girlfriend off, and not letting her finish. She didn’t know what to do with all that love and care she received so all that she could think of was to turn it away; to block it out. It made everything crawl inside her out of fear and Aeri did everything but understand that.

“What do you want me to do?” The girl exclaimed, turning around and gesturing with her arms that then fell to her sides with a thud. The anxiety was filling the room from the heaving breaths for air, from the way she paced and tugged at her clothes; nothing was helping her grasp reality as the thoughts were getting too overwhelming. “I can’t help that I don’t want to jump into your open arms no matter how much reassurance of a safe fall I get. It doesn’t work like that, Aeri.” 

Aeri’s love and care were overwhelming and Y/n hated that she couldn’t appreciate it the way it should be appreciated. She loved that she got it, but hated it once it lasted a second too long because she felt how it slowly melted everything she had built over the years.

It had been a year of Aeri standing with open arms. Her world felt like it was falling apart, but her desire and love for Y/n stayed strong and it was the only thing keeping her together. Trying to save Y/n was killing her and soon enough it would be too late and she would fall into Y/n’s burning world and end up just like the girl.

Love was worth the sacrifice.

“It doesn’t work like this either!” Her voice went up and she never raised it, Aeri never could when it came to the girl in front of her, but she was desperate. Her hands clutched onto the material of her jeans as she stared up at Y/n with tears in her eyes. It was frustrating as she was trying everything and kept being proven over and over that there was nothing she could do. 

Yet it wasn’t enough to stop her from trying.

“I get that it can be hard to trust someone, Y/n.” She calmed her tone, huffing as she leaned back against the couch and took in a deep breath to stop the uncomfortable prickling in her nose. When did it get so frustrating? Has it always been this draining to be with Y/n? But she loved her. How hard could love get at this point? 

It went silent aside from Y/n’s anxious pacing, which was anxiety-inducing for Aeri, it was silent. Aeri stared down at her lap and she could feel how the tears were floating in her eyes. She was ready to start grieving the loss of someone who she still had; she had already started crying because she knew that she lost Y/n once again. 

All she wanted was Y/n. Her fingers were restless as she pulled on the material of her bottoms, pouting, pursing her lips, huffing, blinking, swallowing (with pain), and clearing her throat. She was doing everything to not cry; it would only scare Y/n away further, wouldn’t it? To show that she meant so much that she could make Aeri cry. 

She could suppress it; just for Y/n. 

She could fix it. Fix them, fix Y/n, fix herself, and overall fix everything. There was a lot of fixing, but there was still enough left of her to do it, she could use whatever energy she had even if it would end with her collapsing from exhaustion. She would give her every drop for Y/n.

“But why can’t we just try to make it work.” She mumbled and with the words dropped tears, and with quick reflex, she caught them with the sleeve of her jacket and snivelled. It was choking her, the way her heart pushed to her throat and left it to hurt, it all hurt and left a faint tremble. Aeri looked up at Y/n, her vulnerability was something she couldn’t hide unlike the girl in front of her who stopped at last. 

Was it wrong to cry because she felt bad for Y/n? The girl didn’t deserve to be in pain behind all those walls in her opinion. Y/n wasn’t doing anything wrong even if it seemed like it; she was just badly hurt and that wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t want to be hurt again. 

It wasn’t Y/n’s fault that it was hard to go back to the person she used to be, knowing that that person she used to be had died at the hands of someone who wasn’t deserving of Y/n. Someone who wrecked her home and set it on fire.

“It is working until you bring it up.” Y/n knew how to suck her tears up as her gaze bore into Aeri’s soul, the tears from her girlfriend a sign of the drainage she caused. It wasn’t intentional; it tore her knowing that she was breaking Aeri’s heart, someone she loved, but she had to put her heart first. 

She had learned that love wasn’t worth putting first.

Aeri exhaled, wiping her eyes again, using her sleeves while barely shaking her head. “It’s not working and this is the proof, Y/n. We wouldn’t be arguing about it if it all was fine. You said it yourself that you’re being ignorant. I’m willing to take it slow, I want to help you, but I can’t when you close off.” Even after all this time–a year–she was willing to give it more time. To give Y/n all the time she needed.

“I don’t need your fixing, Aeri. I’m fine with the way things are, the way I am.” Y/n bellowed with anger, too stubborn to change her ways, too stubborn not to put herself first despite wanting Aeri. Too stubborn not to put walls around her heart no matter how much it tried to beat free from the chains just for Aeri. It was a conflict she was facing; not with Aeri, but with herself.  

“You’re obviously, lying–” Aeri knew Y/n enough from the outside to know, but she had taken in as much as she could from those small cracks that could at times appear in Y/n’s walls. It was enough to let her know that Y/n wanted to love but was scared. 

“I’m not lying, I’m–”

“Yes, you are! You get defensive, you close up, and you ignore me. How is that fine to you or me?” Aeri exclaimed, abruptly getting up from the couch with a harsh wipe to her dewy eyes that couldn’t help but shed at the discomfort of her heart aching. 

Y/n scowled, gripping onto the sleeves of her sweater. “I’m done.” She stated the words firmly and her jaw clenched to the point where it hurt just to not tear up.

However, Aeri wasn’t done, she grabbed hold of Y/n’s closed fist, but with tenderness, because despite the anger there was no room for brutality in her love for Y/n. There was no room for hurt, however, it was harder than it sounded to prove it to someone who had only seen the love that came with nothing but havoc and brutality.

“You always are when it gets hard yet it’s fine the way it is?” 

“Fuck off, Aeri.” She exhaled as Y/n left her hold, leaving her to silently wipe at her tears in the now-empty room. Those tears that she would be wiping for the next few days if not weeks. There was no one else to do it for her. No one to mend her heart because even if Y/n left, it was still with her; aching at the distance that made her feel weak and sick.

Aeri didn’t say more, she didn’t do anything more, she didn’t chase, not at the moment; this wasn’t the first time Y/n was done with her. It was an endless cycle with her girlfriend–temporarily ex-girlfriend now–and she knew that she had to wait a few days or weeks until she could pull Y/n back in and show her that she loved her, that there was love for her, that it could all work out if she let Aeri in.

She was, in the end, willing to sacrifice for her love. 

masterlist

[vinyldreamsfuckup]

Tea Party

A: Thank you @being-worthy for this comment. I mean omg: “He’d be such a great and proud girl dad!!! Imagine him, Duff, and Axl having a tea party and dressed up as very fancy princesses and lots of glitter to, they’d never be able to say no!! 🥰❤️🤣” this is a follow up to Long Time Coming

Warnings: nothing 🫣 just fluff, slash being an adorable dad, and Duff and Axl being uncles

Somehow, Lily has convinced Slash to let her do his makeup and hair. She'd used your makeup and messily applied it to Slash's face. Well, when Duff and Axl came over to discuss potential songs for the album, the tea party was in full swing. Slash had bows in his hair, glitter on his face, lipstick on, and was sitting with little Lily and her stuffed animals drinking tea. And he was doing it happily.

"Hey Slash, whatcha doing?" Axl asked, clearly trying to hold back laughter as he looked at his friend. He was dressed in one of my dresses, which was incredibly tight on him. Slash looked back at Axl and Duff.

"I'm having a tea party. Duh," Slash responded. Lily giggled and ran over to Axl.

"Axl! Axl!" Lily giggled as she ran.

"Hi princess," Axl chuckled as he scooped Lily up. She was wearing a Cinderella costume and her curls were pulled back into a little ponytail. She had glitter all over her and her makeup was done.

"You here for tea party?" Lily asked Axl. She looked over at Duff with her bug eyes.

Duff looked over at Axl, then over at Axl, then back at Lily. He sighed slightly, "Yeah bug. We're here for the tea party."

Lily didn't let them skimp out on any of it. Axl and Duff had bows, glitter, and makeup smeared everywhere. When they walked into the master bedroom you had to hold back your laughter. Lily was giggling as she walked into the room.

"Mama! Dresses!" Lily said with a smile. She was trying to ask for dresses for Duff and Axl. Slash walked in behind them and leaned against the wall.

"Oh, you're putting on dresses?" You asked Axl and Duff with a giggle. You walked into your closet and started looking through your clothes.

"Apparently," Axl huffed and leaned against the doorway.

"Well don't sound too excited," Duff chuckled.

"I don't even know if I have anything that fits either of you. I barely had anything that fit Slash," You said as you shorted through your clothes. You mainly had dresses for the events you had to go to over the years, so most of your dresses were either too short or too small.

You pulled out a long mint green lace-up dress and handed it to Duff, "This might fit you."

"Thanks," Duff said with a smile and started to change into it. You handed Axl a pink slip-on dress.

"Seriously?" Axl said with a huff.

"Pink!" Lily giggled as she pointed to the dress. Axl looked down at her and his expression softened.

"Yeah princess, I'll put on the pink dress," Axl said with a soft smile.

After everyone was in their dresses and sitting at the small little table in Lily's room, she walked around setting tiaras on their heads. They spent the whole afternoon sitting together, drinking tea, and playing with stuffed animals.

For one afternoon, all the tension and fighting slipped away. Axl and Slash couldn't help but get along and play with Lily. The album slipped away, the Snakepit tour slipped away, the constant arguments slipped away, and they just played together and melted at Lily's happy giggles. It was a nice contrast to their normal interactions. And most importantly, Lily was happy.

By the end of the day, Slash sauntered into the kitchen. He looked exhausted and was covered in glitter. He leaned on the kitchen island and looked up at you with a lazy smile.

"Have fun today?" You asked with a smile as you put some pasta on his plate.

Slash nodded, "Honestly, more fun than I've had in a while."

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh, "I think this is your new look."

He looked down at his black dress and the glitter all over his body. He still had the pink bows in his hair and the makeup all over his face, "You think?"

You laughed and nodded. You set his plate in front of him, "Yeah baby. You make a very pretty princess."

He popped out his hip and smiled, "I know."

[agroteraa]

Actaeon

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Part 1.

Part 2: Artemis

Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)

Part 3.2: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.2)

Warnings: smut, voyeurism, masturbation, fingering, light choking.

Word Count: 5K

"Venetia! I also wanted to..."

But she had already triumphantly closed the bathroom door. You slammed the door a couple of times, but all you heard in response was the muffled sound of water and a Paris Hilton song blasting from the speakers that were in that room. She would definitely listen to the entire album during her bath procedures, and certainly more than once.

Clearly, this would take a long time. It was too long to wait - you'd been shivering from the cold. Nothing special had happened, you just opened the window in your room and were so engrossed in reading a book that you forgot about everything in the world. The summer days in Saltburn were hot, but still the nights gave you chills sometimes. So, every fascination has its price to pay.

The second bathroom in your wing of the house broke down tonight. That was bad, because the servants could not cope on their own, and it was too late to call the plumbing, and there was no such urgent need when there were several bathrooms. It was a pity the senior Cattons didn’t know that when Venetia used to occupy the only bathroom nearby, that was indeed the most urgent need.

You didn't want to bother Felix and Venetia's parents, much less use their bathroom. James and Elspeth were friends of your parents and this was far from your first summer in Saltburn, but still it would be somehow too inconvenient, they were not your uncle and aunt, after all. There was also no question about the servants' bathroom, it seemed even more inconvenient for you to occupy a bathroom that was used by more than 10 people at once.

There was only one option left if you wanted to lie in the bath for as long as you wanted so that no one would bother you, and right now.

You went down to the living room, where you could hear the sound of the TV. Felix was sitting next to Oliver, smoking a cigarette, switching channels and talking cheerfully to his friend.

"Hey Felix!" you spoke to the guy, and he turned to you, his face reflecting the blue light from the TV in the semi-darkness.

"Yes, Y/N?" he smiled.

"Mm... Can I use your bathroom now? We’ve got one tub malfunctioning, and Venetia got stuck in the other, deciding to do Live at Saltburn's Bathroom 2007, no less..."

You specifically said "your bathroom," looking at Felix the whole time. It was more correct to address both guys at once, but you just couldn't look into Oliver's eyes like that and ask him to use his bathroom with Felix.

"Say no more," he grinned, "Of course! Go ahead, enjoy yourself!"

"Thank you," you smiled and nodded at him, and at that moment you finally looked at Oliver. Unlike you, he had been doing nothing but staring at you all this time. You looked into his blue eyes on a face that was bathed in blue light, which made his eyes seem even more piercing. But he never said anything, absolutely nothing. His expression was unreadable. Was he offended that you didn't address him?

You smiled shyly at Oliver, nodded too, and left the room, bumping into Farleigh in the doorway, who was carrying a large pack of crisps.

"Hello, Y/N! How are you... hey Felix, did you switch that reality show that I was watching?!"

"Of course, yes, because no one wants to watch it except you," Felix replied.

"What? It's "Big Brother", actually! Yes, it's a great show, and we all need a little drama sometimes late in the evening! I bet Oliver likes it too. Yes, Oliver?"

"Oh, please!" Felix rolled his eyes and teasingly began to put the remote away from the hands of the approaching Farleigh.

You chuckled and finally left the room. You never looked at Oliver again, but you could swear that you felt his gaze burning into your back.

God, could he really be offended? Or maybe you did something or said something before and didn't realize it? It seems that Oliver had been noticing a lot, but always kept everything to himself.

Oliver, this guy. You met him at Oxofrd and you chatted and even went to some pubs with him and Felix a few times, but you didn't understand what he was like then. To tell the truth, you still had no idea, but the main reason why you were afraid to look him in the eye when you asked about the bathroom was that you thought he would immediately feel and find out about the crush that had been developing for him for the second month now of your growing closer with him here, in Saltburn.

The only thing you could say for sure was that he was not as insecure and awkward himself as you thought at university, rather he was silent and observant, knowing the value of himself, his words and actions. Attentively listening and being generally deep. His inner confidence and even some kind of mystery began to intrigue you in earnest.

Walking through the corridors of the beautiful old manor, you thought to yourself that you were even glad that everything turned out that way with your bathrooms. The thought of you lying in the same hot tub that Oliver lied almost every night strangely excited and turned you on.

You reached the right room, looking around - it was quiet and cozy. You immediately started taking water into the bathroom, and while you were waiting, you started walking in circles. Here was Felix's bathroom table, next to which his red robe was carelessly hung, two crushed toothpastes and a brush with slightly protruding bristles. You imagined that he was brushing his teeth with the speed and power of a blender in order to quickly deal with this chore and get down to much more interesting things that another day had prepared for him.

You laughed softly at this thought, and then went over to Oliver's side.

Everything was surprisingly neat in contrast to his neighbor, one almost full paste, one brush, two neatly folded towels. You wonder where his robe was. Did he come and go without it?

Gods, you started to think about something wrong. But it was too late – you already started imagining Oliver in his underwear, how he comes into this bathroom, takes them off and lies down in a hot tub… Or maybe he comes and goes here right away without underwear? Ugh... that's enough.

You decided not to lock the door from Felix's room - the boys were obviously absorbed in domination for the telly, besides, they know that you were here, so you just loosely closed the door. No one should come in.

The bathtub was almost full of water, you impatiently took off your clothes and decided to put them together with your bathrobe... where? You didn't want to go to Oliver's side - it was too minimalistic and clean. And besides, it seemed like... too intimate for some reason. But Felix's side would tolerate it, also there were a couple of spare towels in the corner that you forgot to take.

You carefully lowered yourself into the bath, the hot water started nibbling your skin. God, it felt so good. You gradually began to stretch and relax.

There was something about lying in an empty room in the bath while the water was still bubbling. The light was pleasantly dimmed, and the air in the room was gradually getting hot and sticky. This kind of environment had always calmed you down and turned you on at the same time. Except that there was a lot more of the excitement this night rather than the calming.

Thoughts of Oliver came back to you. The way he leaves his room, comes into this very bathroom, fills it just like you did. He lies down in it, as you were lying now, inhales hot air and breathe out even hotter air. Beads of sweat are gathering on his body. And you'd already seen his body too many times while you were swimming or sunbathing. Even you, being more of a face girl rather than a six-pack girl, could not sometimes look away, it was good that most of the time you were wearing sunglasses and he hardly noticed anything. Usually you rather admired his face and beautiful eyes, but now, in your fantasies, his eyes were closed, so your imagination stopped at his beautiful figure and, without too much modesty, began to write it out in details.

You couldn't help yourself, except…

The fingers on your left hand began to lightly brush your lips from left to right, you felt your own hot breath. You wondered if they were…

Then the hand began to descend lower, to your breasts, gently cupping one breast. Fingers slowly drew circles around your nipple, and then squeezed it, causing you to bite your lip and inhale sharply.

...if it were his hands, then....

The water was hot, but the heat below you was even stronger. Unable to resist it, your hand moved even lower, carefully making its way through your folds. You started caressing yourself. All these stoked emotions, tension, unspoken words lately, it was all too much. Of course, when you turned to Felix, the first thing you thought about was that it wasn't him using this bathroom, but someone else. What if he did it too, right here in this place?

...You wonder if those were his hands, would they have caressed you the same way?

This and the previous thoughts and the briefly popped images in your head finally brought you to the peak.

"Oliver..." you whispered loudly, unable to keep that name on your lips.

He almost gave himself away at this point.

Of course, you weren't alone all this time. While Felix and Farleigh were arguing over the right to own the remote, Oliver sat next to them, unable to believe that this was happening. You were going to his bathroom. Of course, in his thoughts now (and maybe in his plans for the future) it wasn't just you and Felix's bathroom, no. You, lying in his bathtub, was the only way to say it correctly and so... luscious.

He was already preoccupied with these thoughts from the very beginning, when you innocently asked Felix about the bathroom, and was just waiting for the right moment to slip away from this company. Fortunately, Elspeth soon joined them, and James came in after her, so, thanks to new guests in the room and the still ongoing discussion about what the Catton family would be watching on TV that evening, Oliver was able to slip away without much difficulty.

He impatiently followed your footsteps, counting in his head whether it was enough time to pass for you to look around there, fill the bath, lie down in it and start relaxing. Thinking about the last words, Oliver began to tense up in a certain sense and in a certain place. Yes, he decided, enough time had passed.

Very quietly, he walked through Felix's dark room to the crack in the door, which left a narrow strip of light from the next room. You were lying in the bath. God, it was a pity that he missed the moment when you took off your clothes and lay down there, but it was also good. He would see everything again, and very soon.

Oliver breathed very quietly and slowly.

God, how beautiful you were, even that small part of your body that could be seen from the bathroom and was also limited to the door crack was inexpressibly beautiful to him. He felt like an ancient Greek myths character, some kind of satyr watching the bathing of a beautiful nymph. No, the goddess. He thought of himself as Actaeon, and you were now his Artemis, taking your bath. A hunter who made his way to the goddess of hunting in the forest and was punished for his excessive curiosity, desires and impatience.

It was also some kind of forbidden act, as if he had actually made his way into the sacred grove. The grove was sacred, but he was glaring at you in a completely blasphemous manner. If he had got to be turned into a stag or something, he was willing to pay the price right now. Every fascination has its price to pay. Although no, not right now.…

Oliver was breathing very quietly and slowly, but soon his breathing became heavier and heavier.

It was too much when you started slowly running your hand over your body, starting with your lips and going lower and lower.

His mouth involuntarily opened in amazement, and then his jaw clenched, and he gnashed his teeth almost audibly. He bit his lip. It was impossible to tolerate, no. His own hand also began to slowly descend.

What was he counting on? Probably just to see you lying in his tub, left to yourself. He didn’t know himself. But for some reason, he did not hope for what was happening at that moment. What or who is Y/N thinking about now? He would give a lot to know that. And he would give everything to change the answer to his own name.

His excitement and despair grew within him every passing second.

He did not calculate exactly what happened next. Or rather, he could have guessed only in his wildest dreams. But it must be said, Oliver always had wildest dreams, which he quickly began to believe in.

"Oliver..." - the acoustics of the bathroom and the silence around gave away your secret, and the sensitive hearing of the bearer of this name picked it out unmistakably.

At that moment, the pupils of his eyes widened to their limit, as if he had just learned the most important secret of the universe, which he had longed to possess all his life. To some extent, even on the modest scale of human life and the moment, this was exactly the case.

So, yes. All this time Y/N was thinking about him. Not about Felix. Not about Farleigh. God, it was not even about Venetia or anyone else. About him. About Oliver. About Oliver Quick.

He smiled broadly at the thought that his observations, his intuition and his wildest dreams had met at a single point of truth. He knew that he hadn't made much of an impression on you in those brief meetings you had at Oxford. But you made an impression on him, and that was enough. He was good at waiting, and he was even better at planning. All this getting closer with Felix, this whole year – it was all for you first of all. He knew that you were friends, that you were the daughter of his parents' friends, and that you were often invited to stay at the Catton family estate, and he did everything to get there too. Yes, even if he didn't make a big first impression on you, even if you didn't study together, even if Felix didn't study with you and your paths didn’t cross often enough to communicate a lot at Oxford, but Oliver knew the place where all this would happen. In Saltburn.

That was why he’d been working very hard for the last two months – even if he wasn't always a good conversationalist, he was a great listener and an even better observer. You began getting closer, and he clearly caught your attention. But to what extent, even Oliver was not sure. It seemed that you communicated with Felix and Farleigh with much more ease, even flirting a little. And not only with them, in general, your ease was expressed in communicating with anyone. With anyone but him. More and more often, you began to avoid his gaze, felt visually uncomfortable, stiffed when you were alone with him, and felt a clear relief when someone joined your company. Did you really get to know him better, and the initial indifference became a constant awkwardness in his presence? Oliver was very afraid of that. And deep down he hoped that this way you could just mask your affection for him, because sometimes people do that. This was also present in him to some extent, or rather, it used to be, because Oliver Quick decided to bury his insecurity and shyness deep inside himself. He was not quite done with it yet, but oh the boy was trying, he was trying very hard. He wanted to kill everything in himself that prevents him from becoming who he desired to be and getting what he wanted. Or who he wanted.

That brief smile changed again to a soundlessly open mouth that almost gave out a groan. Oliver held his hand tightly on his crotch, holding onto the wall with his other hand so that his knuckles turned white. After that confession of yours, Oliver was ready to burst into the bathroom at the same second, but no. He would restrain himself, he would not do that. He would be smarter than Actaeon.

He was really able to keep his composure and wait for you to relax and move away from your blessed condition a little, diving into the water a little deeper and slightly closing his eyes from pleasure and calmness that came to you. He moved noiselessly to the other side of the room. He exhaled deeply. Oliver looked at the half-finished can of Red Bull that had been on Felix's bedside table near the entrance for almost a week. Now it was time to act.

You heard footsteps approaching and shivered, opening your eyes.

"Knock, knock! May I come in?" a familiar voice asked sweetly and quite lively.

"Oliver? What are you..." you started, but he interrupted you by going into the bathroom, without waiting for your invitation or even more so for a refusal.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I need to change my clothes urgently," he began guiltily, "I-I'm not looking!"

He was actually walking past you, covering his face with his hand.

"What's happened?" you asked, half rising from the tub.

"I spilled a drink on myself. It's so unsuitable, because this is a shirt that Felix recently gave me, so that I, quote, "won’t wear the same thing over and over again, otherwise it upsets mother, we're not some kind of paupers here, she said to him." This is so damn awkward," he said frustratedly.

"Yes, of course, come in. It's okay."

"Thank you, Y/N! Once again, I'm sorry for the suddenness."

Oliver disappeared and rummaged in his room for a while, and then knocked again, but this time from the side of his own door.

"Yes? Do you want to go back?"

"Yes. And no. Not quite. It seems that I need to wash my shirt right now, before the stain is completely dry..."

"Can you just leave the shirt to the maids?"

"No, no! Disturbing people at such a late hour...And again, until I find someone and get there..."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Come in... if you won’t be watching,"

"While I'm washing my shirt, I won't," Oliver smiled.

He entered the room with his eyes closed in a caricature manner and showed a white shirt with a dark yellow Red Bull stain on the shirt hanging in his outstretched arms. He was wearing white tank top and black trousers, which were only left part from his dinner costume. He also took off his shoes.

"Yeah, I see it. Maybe you can wash it with soap or something?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do now," Oliver went to his sink under a mirror, starting to wash the stain.

You didn't promise not to look. This view of him, the combination of a formal suit with something casual, formed a knot in your stomach. The white tank top that accentuated his slender torso and exposed his muscular arms so well, which were now busy doing laundry, black suit trousers that hugged his legs and ass in such a nice way, as well as the fact that he was standing barefoot in the bathroom, created a feeling of some kind of intimacy. Few people could see him like this even in this house, as if you came from some sort of gala dinner, and now you saw him in the process of changing clothes between some business. It was like you came together, and this was just your house, and that only you were allowed to see this semi-domestic, yet at the same time very sexy look. You inhaled the air quite sharply.

He didn't promise not to watch either. Therefore, the smile slipped from his face, since you did not see him from this angle, from where he could watch you through the mirror while washing his shirt, completely not looking at it. The smile faded because he could barely contain himself again. He was breathing heavily the hot and sticky air of the bathroom. Damn if only could he pounce and ravish you right now, in this very bath. Oliver was reveling in the way you were looking at him, the way you were looking at him now, thinking that he didn't notice it. Your sharp sigh was the last drop.

"Thinking about something?" Oliver asked you in an even tone.

"What? Oh, no, I just, uh..."

"It's weird, I thought I heard your voice when I first came in here. Did you talk to someone?"

"Of course not, because it's just me... and you."

"I could swear you were talking to someone..." Oliver said wistfully.

You felt the heat in the still hot bath water again, only now your face was burning. Did he hear you muttering his name? It couldn't be, could it have happened before he came in? Or did you not remember something? You were so relaxed. And now you were tensing up, afraid that he would find out your little, or rather, very, very big secret, which you were afraid to fully admit even to yourself.

"I... don't..."

Oliver sighed and stopped washing his shirt, turning to you and leaning on his table. He stared at you unblinkingly, arms crossed over his chest. You instinctively gasped and covered your chest with your hands, crossing your legs.

"My dear, I don't bite. Be a good girl and tell me who you were thinking about while lying in that bathtub, mm?"

"You promised not to look!" It seems like your face couldn't be any redder than it was now.

"I said I wouldn't look while I’d be washing my shirt," Oliver raised both hands in front of him, looking straight into your eyes, "As you can see, I'm done with it."

"But I’m not done with you at all," he thought to himself and slowly began to approach you from behind.

"Oliver, what are you-"

"Shh," he knelt down and gently put his hands on your shoulders, carefully gathering your wet hair to the center of your neck, "I won't look if you want, but let me apologize for my intrusion, I didn't mean to bother you."

He began to gently massage your shoulders, as the pads of his thumbs moved to your neck. You sighed softly and shifted your legs. It seems like both halves of your body were burning equally badly now.

"That's it, good girl," he cooed softly, exhaling hot air almost into your ear. His measured breathing burned your neck, "So, will you tell me who you were thinking about while lying in this tub?"

He asked the question as if he knew the answer to it. You wanted terribly and didn't want to tell him at the same time. It seems that even if you wanted to, the words were stuck in your throat. His long fingers began to tighten, moving slightly towards your neck. "I won't leave it until you tell me yourself." You twitched your legs again. Were you scared or did it turn you on? It seems to be both.

"And please don't hide with your hands from me, yeah? Do you know how fuckin' beautiful you are?" he took one hand off from your neck and gently pushed your hand away, taking up space under your breasts. There was a complete silence in the room. He moved a little to the left side of the tub. At that moment, your eyes met, and everything inside you turned upside down. His beautiful blue eyes were now almost dark with longing. His breathing was slow and heavy, shaking the already hot and sticky air between your faces. The tension was too strong to resist. Yes, it seems that your feelings towards each other were mutual.

Your lips slowly met, and then everything was like a blur. After a short while, Oliver sensually ran his tongue over your lower lip, asking for an invitation to come in. You opened your mouth a little more, where he immediately had slipped with his tongue, leisurely enjoying every corner of your mouth as much as possible. Then he broke the kiss in the lips just to kiss your collarbone without breaking your visual contact. You remembered that his other hand was resting under your chest, and now it began to stroke your skin and climb higher. Oliver began caressing your breasts just the way you had done before – first cupping it in his hand, and then slowly began to lead circles around your nipple until he squeezed it lightly. You cried out softly with pleasure.

"So, darling? And now you're going to tell me who you were thinking about...?"

If earlier words did not come out of you because of surprise and sensation of a slight fear, now they did not come out of you because of excitement and disbelief in what was happening in general. Oliver grinned, closing his eyes, lowering and shaking his head a bit. Then he stood up and, cupping your face in his hands, kissed you again. But this time the kiss was greedy, almost immediately his tongue penetrated you mouth, without asking for any permission now. But you didn't need it, you almost moaned into his lips in response. One of his hands moved from your cheek to your neck and began to squeeze it lightly.

After breaking the kiss, he looked at you again. It seems that now you were ready to reveal his name, but decided not to do so, to see what would happen next, gathering all the remnants of your weakening will, and silently looked at him in response. Oliver seemed to catch this mood and, giving you a dark excitement smile, took a step back, removing one hand from your throat and moving it to your inner thigh. His other hand was on your chest again. Your body covered with goosebumps under the water. He entered you with one finger, and you finally let out a real moan. Smiling with satisfaction, he added his second finger and increased the pace. The water started splashing out of the bathtub from your fidgeting and legs movements. The hand that rested on your breast began to squeeze it, and the thumb massaged your nipple rougher and rougher. You began to moan more often and louder under the caresses of your uninvited, but such a welcome guest. Perhaps it was more correct to say that you were the guest, and he was more like the host here, but your already confused thoughts were interrupted by his hoarse and authoritative voice, "Who were you thinking about lying here, touching yourself? Whose hands were you imagining at that moment?"

You just moaned in response, and he picked up the pace.

"Say the name, say it out loud"

"Oh... Oliver! It was you, Oliver."

"Yes," his eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze darkened even more, and his mouth let out a soundless moan full of satisfaction at what he had heard. He had experienced complete moral satisfaction, and now he would give you a physical one.

He bent down to you more, greedily and sloppily kissing you, without taking his hands off caressing your body, he added the third finger, and in less than a minute you came loudly under his fingers.

You were breathing heavily, just like Oliver himself. You looked at each other, both of you had a swarm of thoughts and a hurricane of feelings in your heads. "Good, sweet Y/N. I'm so glad that tonight turned out that way," he kissed you again, sweetly and almost innocently. He sat on his knees by the bath for a while and just looked at you. You started to get embarrassed again and looked away.

"I'm sorry, you probably need some time alone, and they've probably been waiting for me downstairs. The shirt still needs to be hung up to dry!" he said cheerfully, getting up from his knees, quickly taking the shirt from the sink and disappearing into his room. When he returned, you saw that he was wearing shoes again, and another shirt was thrown over his tank top.

"Have a pleasant late evening, Y/N! If you're not tired, join us in the living room," Oliver smiled at you, and then, already standing in the aisle, added quite nicely but firmly, "And if you want or need to use this room again, put your things down and take towels from my half of the bathroom, hmm?"

With these words, he left the room, leaving you in a storm of feelings and once again thinking how observant and puzzling he was sometimes, as it may not seem at first.

He was over the moon, but of course he would like to get a lot more out of you than he got today. But he knew how to wait, a good hunter should be able to do it, and today Oliver praised himself that he did it perfectly. Actaeon was considered the best out of the mortal hunters.

He was running, almost flying down the estate towards the living room. The Cattons were probably watching some nonsense there, as they always did. But he didn't care, because all his thoughts were about tomorrow night, hoping that you would come to use his bathroom again. Hoping that Venetia would occupy your bathroom again for a long enough time, and if she wouldn't, then maybe he would consider clogging of the second tub.

Oliver knew how to wait, and even better he knew how to act at the right moment.

Surely, he would surpass Actaeon himself.

[wellwornworldwalker]

I have an obsession with assigning theme songs to characters I like. Since Linked Universe is my current hyperfixation I realized I have a golden opportunity. Sleeping at Last is one of my favorite artists and he has an album called Enneagram. 9 songs for 9 personality types for 9 Links so without further adieu here is my totally flawed assignment of songs.

One - Warriors.

The list goes on forever Of all the ways I could be better, in my mind As if I could earn God's favor given time Or at least congratulations Now, I have learned my lesson The price of this so called perfection is everything I've spent my whole life searching desperately To find out that grace requires nothing of me

In the Swords comic Warriors admits that wielding the Master sword made him feel invincible and that nearly cost him his life.

Now Warriors has learned that his true strength is his ability to work with others, a strength he brings to the chain. I see Warriors as someone that likes rules, he needs the world and people to follow a predictable pattern. That puts him at odds with the chaotic members of the chain (That’s everyone, including Warriors.) He’s a perfectionist, specifically the type of perfectionist that believes if you want something done right you’ve got to do it yourself. He’s learned to work with others, and has overcome his initial instincts as The Hero.

Two - initially I thought Hyrule was the best match for Two but as I was writing this analysis I changed my mind to Twilight.

Sweetheart, you look a little tired When did you last eat? Come in and make yourself right at home Stay as long as you need Tell me, is something wrong? If something's wrong, you can count on me

You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat

Twilight is running himself ragged. He was pulling double duty as Wolfie and Twilight. He’s trying to make Time proud, then turns around and tries to mentor Wild. A thankless task because Wild is not interested in his mother Cuccoing. He's more used to the mature blue eyed wolf that pushed him to his limits and never coddled him.

And in Twilight Princess he became The Hero to save his village. Mayhaps Twilight is a bit of a people pleaser but…

I know exactly how the rule goes Put my mask on first No, I don't want to talk about myself Tell me where it hurts I just want to build you up, build you up Till you're good as new And maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too

Twilight recently had his heart broken when Midna left and shattered the mirror. Maybe he’s trying to avoid those feelings by concentrating on everyone else?

Three - Time and Legend were fighting back and forth with songs Three and Eight. Those two are very similar . Both young hero’s that had their childhood stolen in a single defining moment. Legend watched his uncle die and went on the run. Time drew the sword and woke up seven years later having slept through his childhood. And they’ve become pessimistic and cynical because of that.

And a nice little detail that shows how similar Time and Legend are is when Legend and Warriors were betting on who Time’s wife was. War’s thought it would be the princess. But Legend correctly guessed it was someone different because he knew that wasn’t Time’s style.

But back to Time, because these two are different and maybe that just because Time has the advantage of years and age on his side but he settled in a way Legend hasn’t

Maybe I've done enough And your golden child grew up Maybe this trophy isn't real love And with or without it, I'm good enough

Time is who he is because he has Malon and the ranch. Malon loves the very normal man Time is not The Hero he had to be. The others immediately notice how different Time is when they get to the ranch.

He laughs, smiles, and jokes around. While on the road he’s tense and serious. He sees this quest as a duty and a responsibility, but he wants to be home. Makes you wonder why he’ll leave home and die to become the hero’s shade?

Four - Is FOUR

Jk jk it's Sky. The song Four is about ordinary touching divine. And if that doesn't sum up Sky I don't know what does.

Bodies fashioned out of dirt and dust For a moment, we get to be glorious

When Sky first encountered Demise the Demon King spends a lot of time pointing out that Link is human, brave for a human but still human.

Then there are these lines

But I've fallen in love with a ghost I lost my balance when I needed it most

He loves Zelda, a mortal incarnation of a goddess and in his quest to save her he is so often just a little too slow. He's there in the end and gets the job done but it's a close thing that haunts him.

Five - For real this time. This is Fours song.

The opening lines are

I want to watch the universe expand I want to break it into pieces small enough to understand And put it all back together again In the quiet of my private collection

He's a curios little guy and a smith. Always looking into the mysteries of the world, take them apart and remake them. Maybe that curiosity got him into a little trouble. He's got the four sword and one magic sword is more than enough for him.

The last lines of the song are

I finally feel the universe expand It's hidden in heartbeats Exhales and in the hope of open hands

Four has got the four sword but he is also the hero of Minish cap. He see's the large universe and the small important things that are closer to home. He's recognized this after the events of sunset and dawn. If this quest is to succeed he needs to let his brother's in. Wild knows his secret but that was more of a spur of the moment angry reaction. I'll be interested to see if he purposefully reveals his secret to anyone else.

Six - Six was originally my pick for twilight but I switched him and Hyrule. Fanon characterizes Hyrule as the healer but so far we've only seen him healing once. So I'm basing this off of his games, Linked universe canon and my hopes for his character arc.

We laugh about this line because Hyrule has what is considered the hardest game. Oh you sweet summer child. You complicated, pixilated little hero. Do you know what you've done? That's why I associate these lyric's with Hyrule's character

I want to take shelter, but I'm ready, ready to fight Somewhere in the middle, I feel a little paralysed Maybe I'm stronger Than I realize

Like Legend Hyrule lives in the fallen hero timeline. That's caused some serious problems for his kingdom. But unlike Legend, Hyrule seems to be open and friendly.

Is it courage or faith To show up every day? To trust that there will be light Always waiting behind Even the darkest of nights

It takes real courage to live in a dying world and still love it and it's people.

Seven - There was never any doubt in my mind that Seven was Wild's song. Some of these were difficult to nail down but not Seven and Wild. This song is about being restless and wanting to explore. Perfect for our Hero of the Wild

Then the song hits you with this sucker punch

But I want to be here Truly be here To watch the ones that I love bloom And I want to make room To love them through, and through, and through, and through The slow and barren seasons, too

Twilight has pointed out the Wild should talk to his Zelda about who he used to be and who he is now. But that means looking to the past and he's can't bring himself to do that yet. Instead seeing his life as two different people. The before and after.

Eight - I mentioned that I flipped flopped on choosing Time or Legend for this song but I finally decided that this is more Legend's song. Truth be told Eight could have been just about any Link's song. It's such a protagonist song. It's my favorite :)

Jojo has draw a picture of Legend with Marin and he looks so happy and playful. Something we don't see with the group.

But I can't let you see all that I have to lose All I've lost in the fight to protect it I can't let you in, I swore never again I can't afford to let myself be blindsided

He was open and loved once before but then he lost it. Not only lost it but had to be the one to destroy it himself, confront that maybe this happiness was never real to begin with. Now he's withdrawn and cynical. Legend is still all in on being a hero. (Unlike Time he's not looking to settle down.) But he wont be opening his heart anytime soon.

Can we talk about this panel from the bet

Are you talking about Time or yourself?

I'm standing guard, I'm falling apart And all I want is to trust you Show me how to lay my sword down For long enough to let you through

I can't wait to see his brother's break through that hard exterior and see the kind and empathetic person underneath. We see flashes of it.

(Memories is a gold mine for everyone's characterization, just saying.) He's emotional mature enough to know where to really lay the blame. I hope he can help Wild see that. But I think to really get through to Wild he'll need to be emotional vulnerable and he's not prepared for that yet.

But in the end Legend is a hero through and through. Since he was 11 he's been The Hero and he shows no sign of stopping.

I'ma shake the ground with all my might And I will pull my whole heart up to the surface For the innocent, for the vulnerable And I'll show up on the front lines with a purpose

He's grumpy and cynical but still a hero.

Nine - By process of elimination Wind is number Nine. I'm not really happy with this one but none of the songs really fit Wind . So I decided to speculate about Wind's future. Wind and Tetra are supposed to reestablish the Kingdom of Hyrule, a daunting task for a 13/14 year old. No wonder he admires the kings of Hyrule so much

Wake up Fall in love again Wage war on gravity There's so much Worth fighting for You'll see Another domino falls Either way

Quite the opposite of Wild , Wind is always looking to the past to build the future.

This ended up being longer than I thought it would be but I also didn't even talk about half my feeling when it comes to this album and Linked Universe. IDK how that possible. But I've said enough and I just needed to share my thought. And you guys should totally listen to the album.

[noneorother]

The secret timeline inside of Good Omens season 2 revealed, *part1*

Part 1 l Part 2

If you’ve ever watched a ballet or an opera, you know how the rhythm in the music is used throughout to determine not only the movements of the dancers, but also when lines are sung or spoken. This is almost unheard of in television, but what if I told you it was hidden in season 2 of Good Omens? If one were to, say, meticulously cut together only the scenes set in the present day into one big timeline, you would get one long video that is exactly 2 hours 22 minutes 00 seconds and 00 frames long. An ineffable cut that is so perfect it defies all logic. (I’ve burnt a timecode into this ineffable edit to help pick up the rhythm.)

Even though there are large swathes of the second season with no music, there is a constant tempo weaving its way through the show: What if the seconds ticking by in the runtime itself was the music? Here’s an example of what I found. Behold a supercut of every single time Shax shows up, or Hell is mentioned in series 2 in the ineffable edit. They always arrive on a 6 in the time stamp (ex: 00:XX:X6).

(SOUND ON is an absolute must here, otherwise you won't hear any of the triggers)

Shax rings Crowley on a XX:X6. Shax miracles herself into the car on a XX:X6. Shax knocks on windows on a XX:X6. Shax’s big scary moment at the bookshop happens at 66 minutes exactly (lol). Crowley calls out for Shax on a XX:X6. Beelzebub starts spewing flies on a 6. People mention hell and it’s always on XX:X6 etc. etc…(Bonus: I also left in Maggie flipping the damned the double-bird on a XX:X6) I’ve also left in the only appearance of Shax or hell at all in the whole series that isn’t tied to a six: the park bench scene with Crowley. Shax seems to be off by one line, showing up on a XX:10, then back to XX:X6 on her second reply: “Bills, mostly”. I can only theorise that this scene, while technically in season 2, is not supposed to *be* in season 2 (even just judging by the trees, sun and the overcoats, it’s not summer like in the rest of the season). And it’s not only sixes! Every time I go through I find more and more little beats that line up exactly with ineffable timings. I can only do one video per post, so I’ll have to cut it up into sections, but Gabriel, doors, car horns, bird calls, Aziraphale, food, drinks, Angels, dialogue, Maggie, Nina, jokes, clocks, bells… The list goes on and on. 

Neil called this season “The bridge”

Because we all know how much Neil loves double meanings and wordplay, I just have to ponder the idea that when Neil said this season was “the bridge” between seasons 1 and 3, he meant it double-literally. First, as in the bridge Aziraphale and Crowley have to cross in order to get them into position for the second coming. We even see the physical manifestation of this bridge leading everyone in the background of the opening credits. But this season is also a bridge in the sense that it’s a musical section that introduces new ideas or material in the middle of a song. This whole season is the music that deviates from the familiar, and re-contextualizes the chorus and the verses so we can appreciate them in a new way. 

Let’s not forget that 2:22 is also exactly the same timing as this (and only this) track from the good omens s2 album (read all about the soundtrack here):

Why is this so bonkers? I think GOS2 might be the first ever “Total” series of television.

Having everything in the series timed and choreographed would actually make it a very faithful adaptation of the Powell & Pressburger film The Tales of Hoffmann (read about the movie and it’s effect on all of s2 here). If you watch the tales of Hoffman, you will realize that the entire film is actually done more like animation, with the music and vocals all performed in a studio, mixed and edited first, and then the actors came back to act out their choreographed and lip-synched parts for the cameras afterwards. The result is "Total film": a movie that feels more like a ballet, with every movement, action, and line happening in time with the music. As far as I can tell, very few films have ever attempted this, with The Tales of Hoffmann and Playtime being the only two “complete” films I could find in this style. (The Red shoes has one section, and An American In Paris has a few)

“Why would ambitious filmmakers simply film an opera? Many admirers of the work of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger have assumed that their decision to make The Tales of Hoffmann (…) was in some way an admission(…) that they couldn’t go on making their edgy, over-the-top melodramas after the rejection and interference they’d suffered, (but) there’s a case for considering The Tales of Hoffmann as one of the finest and boldest works that Powell and Pressburger produced, so far ahead of its time as a wholly “composed” film... Late in his life, Powell himself said that he thought it was one of the best films that he and Pressburger had made.” - Criterion review, Tales of Hoffmann

Here’s a simple example from An American in Paris

If season 2 *is* scripted and choreographed to line up with specific timings, I’m pretty sure that would make this the first ever “total” or “composed” season of television ever attempted. Not only does this take an ASTOUNDING amount of planning, scripting and editing finesse, not to mention a completely controlled set, it takes a real understanding of how to perform as an actor using rhythm and metre, which would go a long way to explain why all of the main actors coming back for season 2, with the exception of John Hamm, are well regarded theatre performers, (especially of Shakespeare).

I’ll leave you with one last surprise I found in the discovery of the ineffable edit: remember Aziraphale’s smile at the very end if the credits? It happens on 02:23:03, as the first step off the bridge, and into season 3.

I will have much more in the next ineffable timeline post. Stay tuned…

__________________________________________

Thanks for reading all the way to the end. It’s taken me a solid month to get this perfect. There are so many hidden cuts and jumps to take into account, and I had a frame rate issue that kept exporting to 29fps instead of 25fps, but I’ve finally nailed the ineffable timeline enough that I am confident sharing in it.

Credits to @thebluestgreen and @embracing-the-ineffable for all the support and help with editing and just general good vibes. 

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

I Keep These Longings Locked In Lowercase Inside A Vault

I'll Write Your Name Chapter 10

Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader

5.9k words

Warnings: Language, angst and pining, mentions of an almost-hookup, Roy is still an idiot

A/N: I know it's been a minute, thank you for your patience! I'm trying really hard to get back into good writing habits, especially because I miss all of you (and Roy!). I hope you enjoy!!

Roy swore the pounding was in his head. He wasn’t sure what kind of tequila he’d been taking shots of all night, but it sure wasn’t anything like he’d had at the clubs of London. It’d definitely done a number on him, based on the incessant banging that wouldn’t go away, no matter how tightly he squeezed his eyes shut. No, wait, it wasn’t incessant, and it wasn’t even that loud. In fact, it was almost… timid. Like someone knocking on a door in the early morning.

He opened his eyes. It sounded like knocking because someone was knocking.

“Come in,” Roy grumbled, propping himself up on his elbows.

When the door opened, a pair of tired eyes met his. She wore pyjamas that were familiar to him now, but instead of the smile he knew so well, she wore seriousness all over her pretty face. “Hey,” she said plainly. “I know we were supposed to stay a couple days but…” She leaned coolly in the doorway. “I’ve got some things I need to finish. For the tour-” She held Roy’s eyes firmly. “For the album. So, if it’s alright with you, we’ll head out as soon as you’re packed.” She pushed herself off the doorframe.

Something in Roy’s chest tightened as he took in her stony expression. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, suddenly embarrassed by the fact that he was only in his boxers. “Listen, I-”

“We’re fine, Roy.” Somehow, her tight smile was worse than the blank expression. “Seriously. We don’t need to talk about it.” She shrugged, not quite meeting his eye now. “We both drank way too much,” she chuckled hollowly, tucking some stray hair behind her ear. “And I think the alcohol made us forget that we’re pretending.” She nodded to him, that smile becoming her charming one, the one she wore at red carpet events and celebrity-filled parties. “We’re good, Kent,” she assured him.

“We’re good,” he echoed, wishing he could say something more, something to make everything better. “Alright, then.”

Good. Roy didn’t feel good while he packed his things back into his suitcase. No, he felt that pounding in his head and that tightness in his chest. He wanted to kick himself for listening to his drunken cock and ruining things between them. The evening- no, this whole ‘fake dating’ operation- had been going so well. The two of them had become real friends, close friends even. She had managed to become one of the most important people in Roy’s life in such a short period of time. He knew, deep inside, that even after all… this had ended, they would still be in each other’s lives. The press would go on about how refreshing it was to see exes remain so amicable, the way they did about him and Keeley. And he’d watch her move on to other men, to men she truly cared about, and he’d be happy for her as he listened to the beautiful love songs she wrote about them. And he’d move on too, wouldn’t he? And she’d be happy for him, right?

“Kent? You ready?”

Instead of answering, Roy blinked at the woman who stood in the doorway. Kent, she’d called him. In that same tone she’d used when they first met and weren’t friends. What happened to Roycito? And why the fuck did he care so damn much?

Her raised eyebrow reminded him that she’d asked a question. “Yeah,” he grumbled, grabbing his zipped up suitcase. “I’m ready.”

~

Once again, I sat on a plane with Roy Kent in complete silence while I wrote a song. Unlike our flight to L.A., this time we didn’t smile at each other or laugh or tease each other across the cabin. This time, something thick and heavy hung in the air between us as Roy read his book and I kept my head bent over the lyrics that flew out of my pen.

Maybe I should have asked Roy to talk about things. Maybe I should have let him explain. But, if I was being honest, I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want his awkward mumblings about how drunk he was and how he didn’t mean any of it. I didn’t need another rejection. And I definitely didn’t need him suggesting that we end this whole arrangement. Because that would probably mean an end of our friendship, which, somehow, felt even worse than the idea of being blatantly told Roy wasn’t interested in me romantically.

As I snuck a glance at him through my eyelashes, I made a decision: it was better to be friends with Roy Kent than be nothing at all. Even if it meant pining over him throughout my tour and having him be clueless about how every word of every love song was for him. Even if it meant having to watch him move on once the end of this fake relationship finally reared its ugly head. I wanted to have Roy in my life, no matter what. Even if it wasn’t the way I wanted.

It was strange. I’d had plenty of boyfriends and plenty of platonic guy friends. But nothing quite like what I had with Roy. Everything was just so easy with him. While I was definitely attracted to him and spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about him, it wasn’t overwhelming the way it had been with other men. My feelings didn’t render me tongue-tied and unable to form a single coherent sentence; I was too comfortable with Roy for that. He set me so at ease and just felt like home.

And if I wanted to keep the home I’d found in this friendship, I needed to pretend like that’s all this was: friendship.

Feeling emboldened by my decision, I set my notebook down and crossed the cabin to plop down beside Roy. He looked up with raised eyebrows, as if he was waiting for me to break the silence. His eyes held that nervousness they’d carried all morning, tinged with what could be mistaken for a little bit of hope.

“Did you really bring the cowboy hat home?” I blurted out.

A surprised smile broke through that bearded face. “Fucking ’course I did,” he chuckled, shutting his book and laying it on his lap. “I looked damn good in it.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “And which one of my brothers told you that? You know they were just messing with you, right?”

“Fuck off.” He nudged me with ease, as if we hadn’t tumbled into my bed together the night before. “I think I should wear it to all your shows this summer. I could start a trend. Instead of those little friendship bracelets, people can trade cowboy hats.”

Pretending my heart didn’t skip a beat with each little touch, I shoved him back. “How about no,” I snarked. “I doubt Keeley wants you trying to start any fashion trends anyway, Roycito.”

His face seemed to brighten when I called him the silly little nickname. “Fine, sunshine,” he chuckled. “No fucking cowboy hats.”

“Thank you.” With a friendly smile, I settled into the seat, allowing my shoulder to brush his and stay there. He picked his book back up and resumed reading, with the corners of his mouth tugging upwards now. Deciding I had not gotten enough sleep the night before, what with all the tossing and turning and writing I’d done after Roy left my bedroom, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to rest my head on Roy’s shoulder. I was torturing myself, I knew. I was setting myself up for a future heartbreak that would stay with me long after the public relationship ended.

But fuck, Roy’s shoulder felt so warm and comfortable, like I belonged there.

Yeah, I lied to myself as my nap began to claim me. Friends is enough for me.

~

Roy couldn’t help but feel weirdly important as he sat in the recording studio. Jamie looked downright thrilled to be sitting beside him, grinning like a complete moron, wearing an outfit Roy knew the striker had spent far too long putting together. Keeley, unsurprisingly, was cool as a cucumber on Jamie’s other side; still grinning, but definitely more at ease.

Jamie had all but begged for the chance to come with Roy to the recording studio, to see the artist herself at work. Although Roy had initially shrugged the striker’s requests off, figuring the popstar would want as few people as possible to know details about the album she hadn’t even announced yet, she had surprised him by not only saying yes but by also inviting Keeley to the session. She’d even greeted the model with a friendly hug and a kiss on the cheek, eliciting a pleased smile from Roy’s ex-girlfriend. Roy scolded himself for ever thinking the popstar was jealous of his ex; he scolded himself even more when he felt slightly disappointed about that.

He turned his focus to the recording booth, where those pretty eyes were focused on her notebook. He wondered what song she’d be recording today; some part of him was hoping it was that lake song she’d sung to him back in L.A., the one that made his chest fill with warmth. It his favorite song he’d heard from her- maybe his favorite song ever now- and he was dying to hear it again.

Instead, her producer hit play and filled the studio with a different song, one Roy hadn’t heard before.

Drownin' in the Blue Nile

He sent me "Downtown Lights"

I hadn't heard it in a while

The hair on the back of Roy’s neck stood straight. He kept trying to tell himself that that night had been a blur, but he remembered every detail, every single moment- including the song he’d hummed on her front porch. It must be the favorite song of some rockstar prick she’d dated before. Because she couldn’t be referencing Roy in a song- right?

What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and fallin' back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top-lip kiss, how I long for our trysts

Without ever touchin' his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

Her eyes locked on Roy’s, eyes sparkling with something he couldn’t quite identify. It sent chills down his spine. Her face was firm, determined, as if the two of them were having a serious conversation. For a moment, he forgot about Jamie and Keeley sitting beside him. Hell, he forgot how to fucking breathe as he absorbed every word she sang.

I keep these longings lockеd

In lowercase, inside a vault

Somеone told me, "There's no such thing as bad thoughts

Only your actions talk"

These fatal fantasies

Giving way to labored breath, takin' all of me

We've already done it in my head

If it's make-believe

Why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

While Roy scrambled to understand the meaning of the words she sang- in a voice he could only describe as sultry and longing- Jamie leaned over, nudging Roy pointedly.

“Oi,” the striker hissed, eyebrows scrunched in repugnance. “Is she singing about having a fucking wank to you?”

If Roy wasn’t already blushing, he sure as hell was now. “Fuck off,” he growled, elbowing Jamie. When he glanced around the footballer, he caught Keeley’s gaze. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously- oh fuck. Keeley knew something was up. Whether they were dating or just friends, Roy had a hard time hiding things from Keeley. He must have had guilt written all over his face based on the way she was looking at him.

Rather than face Keeley’s glare- the one so harsh it would surely drag a confession of his stupidity out of him- he turned his attention back to the recording booth. She smirked as she sang; putting on an act for Jamie and her producer, Roy reasoned. He shoved away all those thoughts of her bed in Los Angeles; they’d just gotten past it, he reminded himself. No reason to keep dredging that shit up.

They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly

I choose you and me religiously

What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and fallin' back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top-lip kiss, how I long for our trysts

Without ever touchin' his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

He sent me "Downtown Lights"

I hadn't heard it in a while

Am I allowed to cry?

She closed her eyes, a look of sadness and peace crossing her face as her voice quieted. Roy felt something ache in his chest, an ache he squashed down as hard as he could. Something he’d been squashing down for a while now, actually.

He was still squashing that feeling when he was alone in his house that night, drinking a beer and reading a book. When the text alert went off, he expected his fake girlfriend, probably inviting him to another recording session, or maybe even a concert rehearsal this time; he’d jokingly asked for a sneak peek recently and had only received a teasing smirk in response. Maybe she was finally inviting him.

Instead, when he opened his messages, he found a text from Keeley:

What the fuck did you do?

~

A small groan slipped past my lips as I stretched on the floor of the studio where my rehearsals took place. I’d lost track of how many hours had just gone by, hours of dancing and jumping and strutting and singing. I glanced over my shoulder, at the dancers who were cooling down and chattering amongst themselves. They hollered my name and waved as they began to leave, reminding me for the millionth time how lucky I was to be touring with such an incredible and talented group of people.

“When do I finally get a preview?”

That gruff voice sent a shiver down my spine. I turned back around to see Roy standing over me, eyebrow quirked teasingly. He carefully sat down beside me, wincing when a small crack came from his knee. Another shiver rushed through my body when I saw his eyes rake down my bare legs before landing on my face again.

“No previews,” I reminded him, unable to help my grin as I looked at that hopeful face. “You get to see the show when everyone else does.” I shook my head. “Spoiled man, you hear a few new songs and think you get to see the whole damn show. Besides-” I gestured to the bare studio. “I want you to get the full effect, Roycito. The lights, the crowd, the costumes-”

“I bet Roy’s really looking forward to the costumes,” one of my dancers giggled as they passed by us.

My cheeks burned as I stuck out my tongue at her. “Good night,” I retorted before turning back to Roy. “The costumes are kind of amazing,” I admitted with a proud grin. “The designer I worked with is a genius.”

“You’re probably easy to design for,” Roy chuckled, shaking his head gently. “You look like a fucking Barbie doll or something.”

All I could do was blink at Roy and his compliment and his soft smile. A fucking Barbie doll. Was he really so damn clueless, I wondered. Every stupid thing that came out of that stupid mouth of his made this whole “friendship” thing harder than it needed to be. At least soon I’d be on tour, occupied and busy and distracted and working my ass off. Maybe that would help take my mind of the man who was still sitting there, smiling like everything was fine between us, as if we hadn’t almost-

Stop it, I scolded myself for the millionth time since we’d returned from L.A. Friends don’t keep thinking about the time they almost hooked up with each other- right?

“We should get going,” Roy finally said, nodding towards the door. “Sydney’s probably hungry.”

My idiot heart skipped a beat at Roy’s concern for my cat, who probably liked Roy even more than I pretended not to. “Yeah,” I sighed, standing up. “Let’s go, Kent.”

~

“Thanks,” Roy mumbled to the two beaming teenage girls who thrust friendship bracelets at him. He mindlessly slipped them onto his wrist, which was quickly becoming covered in the beaded gifts. At this rate, he’d lose circulation in his arm.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile back at the people, all dressed in sparkly outfits and wide smiles, who shrieked and waved when they saw him. He was no stranger to screaming fans, people absolutely thrilled at the mere sight of him, but this was…. different. First of all, he was usually fawned over by football fans, especially men who’d grown up watching him on the pitch. They chanted about him being here, there, every-fucking-where, asked him to sign kits and balls, praised him for Greyhound victories or chastised him for their losses.

These fans were excited to see him because he was…. Roy. The devoted boyfriend, the muse. It was utterly bizarre to see girls, not much older than Pheobe, shout his name and wave at him as though he was one of the teen idols that probably hung on their walls at home, as if he was still the hot young thing he’d been in his Chelsea days. What a strange new kind of fame, he thought as he, flanked again by Keeley and Jamie, entered the V.I.P. tent they’d be watching the concert from.

“Does that really say DADDY?” Jamie’s face was comically offended. “What the absolute fuck?”

Keeley grinned at Roy. “I think it’s cute how excited they are to see you,” she offered, nudging him playfully. “Word around the Twitterverse is that you’re quickly becoming her fanbase’s favorite boyfriend.”

Roy grunted and glanced down at his wrist; sure enough, he spotted the bracelet Jamie had been so offended by. “Don’t know why,” he grumbled. “I haven’t done shit.”

“Oh hush,” Keeley scolded. “You post lovely things about her, you showed up to her fundraiser and her niece’s birthday, you’re here accepting these cute little bracelets and smiling at her fans. Who doesn’t love a supportive boyfriend?”

Weird. Not too long ago, a comment like that would’ve had Roy’s heart skipping a beat, the idea that Keeley was reminded of what a good boyfriend he could be. But, not for the first time, he realized he wasn’t flustered or excited or anything when he looked at Keeley. She was just Keeley. Keeley, his ex, his friend, his publicist- who didn’t quite seem to believe his lies about nothing happening between him and the singer, but had still let him off the hook.

Maybe time really did heal all, he pondered as he waved stiffly at a beaming teenager who was filming him on their phone. Maybe, finally, after all this time, he was over Keeley Jones.

If that was the case, then why the hell was he still doing this fake relationship thing?

Before he could spend any time answering that question, the lights of Wembley Stadium went down, prompting the crowd to erupt into the most high-pitched shrieks Roy had ever heard in his life. Wild was the only word he could think of to describe the ear-shattering chaos. He tried to recall how loud the crowds were when he wore an England kit; were they this feral? Even if they were, that was for a team representing their nation; this was for one woman.

And before that woman appeared onstage, her voice filled the dark stadium, low and, once again, sultry. Roy’s heart skipped a beat when that familiar voice hit his ears, and he found himself fiddling with those damn friendship bracelets.

I was supposed to be sent away

But they forgot to come and get me

I was a functioning alcoholic

'Til nobody noticed my new aesthetic

All of this to say I hope you're okay

But you're the reason

And no one here's to blame

But what about your quiet treason?

She appeared, as if by fucking magic, on the now lit stage. Somehow, the crowd’s screams grew louder as she continued to sing, all glowing smiles in a sparkling bodysuit that left little to the imagination- not that Roy needed his imagination anymore.

Her movements were flowing and easy, reminding him of the way they’d danced together, with her hips swaying hypnotically. His face went warm with the memory of her body close to his at the quince, moving in sync, smiling and laughing together, exchanging light kisses for the benefit of her family.

Roy knew there were tons of cameras and eyes on him. Hell, Keeley and Jamie were both eyeing him; Jamie was smirking, teasing Roy with his raised eyebrows, and Keeley… well, Keeley looked as suspicious as she did that day in the recording studio, when they listened to Guilty As Sin…? and she interrogated him about the song’s meaning.

But he didn’t think about the eyes and cameras and the livestreams and the tweets and the TikToks, or even his friends beside him. He just watched her, amazed that one person could be so magnetic, so full of energy. She was fucking non-stop, singing and dancing and smiling and just sparkling. He couldn’t help his own grin as he watched, unconsciously bopping his head along to the familiar pop hits and tapping his fingers along the barrier in front of him. Somehow, in the crowd of thousands, her eyes met his more than once, prompting his smile to widen each time; in the back of his head, he noted that there would probably be some great photos and videos of those moments. Keeley and Lanie would be fucking thrilled. But those thoughts about publicity and gossip were buried deep behind his growing blush and racing heart.

His eyes never left the stage as he leaned towards Keeley. “D’you think you could get me and Pheebs tickets to tomorrow night’s show?” he asked over the music. “She’d lose her shit over all this.”

Keeley smirked as she studied Roy, more starstruck than she’d ever seen anyone in her life, even more than when she introduced Rebecca to Mel B at a charity event. She wanted nothing more than to ask him again about Los Angeles, about what had shifted between that had the charming singer serenading him with that song at the recording studio; but Keeley knew all she’d get were more growls and eyerolls.

So instead, she nudged him playfully. “Yeah, Roy. I think we could manage to get you tickets to your own girlfriend’s concert. Shouldn’t be too hard to arrange.”

The corners of Roy’s mouth ticked up at Keeley’s teasing tone, but, again, his gaze never left the singer.

Near what he knew was the end of the show, someone handed her a guitar and she approached a single microphone, looking, for the first time all night, a smidge nervous. But even that sudden shyness looked so lovely on her, charming and endearing. She smiled, a more timid smile now, and breathed deeply into the microphone.

“I hope you’ve all been having a great time tonight,” she said, laughter coloring her voice. The crowd went absolutely insane over the short sentence. “I love getting to share my music with you, getting to hear you all sing along and enjoy yourselves.” She strummed the guitar absently. “Would it be alright if I played something new for you guys?”

Fucking hell. If Roy thought the crowd couldn’t get any louder, he was proven dead wrong. Wembley was positively shaking with excitement and screams he felt sure could be heard well across the country. And there she stood, smiling as if this were the most normal thing in the world, as if her life wasn’t some fairy tale Roy couldn’t believe he got to see up close and personal.

It was an eternity before the crowd quieted enough for her to finally begin playing the tune that Roy was thrilled to recognize from those quiet afternoons by the lake, afternoons that felt like a distant dream now.

I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night

Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife

And if it was an open-shut case

I never would've known from that look on your face

Lost in your current like a priceless wine

The more that you say

The less I know

Wherever you stray

I follow

I'm begging for you to take my hand

Wreck my plans

That's my man

He had a stupid smile on his face. He knew it. But fuck, there was something so thrilling about seeing her finally share those songs with her fans. After watching her toil away, listening to her wake up in the middle of the night to pluck away at the piano, trying to sneak peeks at the words she scribbled down on napkins in the middle of dinner, Roy couldn’t believe he finally got to hear her debut a piece of the album he knew this crowd would love.

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in

As if you were a mythical thing

Like you were a trophy or a champion ring

And there was one prize I'd cheat to win

Roy’s apparently permanent blush deepened at the mention of trophies and champion rings, at the way her eyes locked on his with the words that were clearly supposed to be a reference to him and his job. He really shouldn’t be amazed at her ability to put on an act, he scolded himself. Yet over and over again he let himself marvel in her ability to wear those smiles on her lips, to paint a sparkle in her eye and a blush on her cheeks, to act like there was something special about him, something as magnetic and magical as her.

“This is amazing!” Keeley chirped in Roy’s ear, grooving along to the mystical tune. “Really beautiful!”

“Yeah,” Roy huffed, shaking his head, eyes never leaving the stage. “She really is.”

Keeley pursed her lips and raised a cool eyebrow but didn’t utter another word. In fact, no one said another word to Roy for the rest of the song; he was clearly under some sort of spell, one cast by a guitar and a pretty voice. At the end of the song, he added his own claps and cheers, pride beaming from his face as he locked eyes with the singer.

She returned the guitar to a waiting stagehand and took the microphone in her hand. “I’m so glad you all liked it,” she giggled, awe on her pretty face. “How’s about another one?”

How the fuck did the crowd manage to get even louder? Roy pondered as his eyes scanned the faces of the crowd, mostly women, screaming and cheering and smiling and crying. It was like nothing he’d ever seen in his life. He snapped back to attention as a bouncy pop tune filled the stadium, lights shining on the popstar striking a confident pose that complemented the bright little skirt and top she’d changed into a couple songs ago.

Nice to meet you, where you been?

I could show you incredible things

Magic, madness, heaven, sin

Saw you there and I thought

"Oh, my God, look at that face

You look like my next mistake

Love's a game, wanna play?"

Roy couldn’t help but chuckle at the exaggerated expressions she made as she sang, as if showing that she was in on some joke. He’d heard bits and pieces of this song but, like many of the other tracks she’d been working on, she’d refused to allow Roy a peek at the finished product. Part of him wanted to be annoyed with her for keeping him in the dark, but now, seeing it performed live in front of a packed stadium, he couldn’t complain too much.

So it's gonna be forever

Or it's gonna go down in flames

You can tell me when it's over

If the high was worth the pain

Got a long list of ex-lovers

They'll tell you I'm insane

'Cause you know I love the players

And you love the game

Oh fuck, did she really just point at him as she sang about players and games? It was so damn cute and flirty and fucking charming; it drove the whole stadium bonkers. Jamie threw an arm around Roy, laughing in the manager’s ear in a way that would normally have Roy threatening to throw punches. But, with all those smiling teenagers watching him and giggling to each other, he couldn’t help simply shaking his head and smirking, in absolute awe of the power a single woman could have over thousands of people.

The song was incredible. Pop perfection, one might say. It was clever and cute and, well, fucking fun. And she twirled around the stage, flanked by dancers Roy recognized from the times he picked her up from rehearsals, hoping for a sneak peek of the show he had to admit was pure spectacle. She was a spectacle, in the best possible way.

“Thank you!” she called out, miraculously not as out of breath as Roy felt. “That is Blank Space, and it is the first single from my new album, Calamitous Love!”

Roy was going to go deaf. How was he supposed to handle more of these shows, with all the screaming and cheering and hollering? But when he saw her, beaming with the album cover- with the Scrabble letters spelling out the title and the little details he knew he’d have to dissect later- on the screen behind her, laughing at the reaction from her fans, Roy couldn’t help but ponder if going deaf would be completely worth it.

Roy felt oddly proud of himself as he recognized the next couple of songs, mentally thanking Phoebe for all the exposure she’d given him and pretending that he hadn’t been listening to these songs in the car by himself these days. He knew the show was coming to an end, and some little part of him was genuinely… disappointed. But he didn’t focus on that, not when she was positively glowing as she sang, her expression sparkling as she gestured in his direction.

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well

I can see the end as it begins

My one condition is

Someone prodded Roy’s shoulder. Turning around sharply, realizing how tense his shoulders had been as he watched the popstar, Roy blinked in surprise at the sight of April looking up at him expectantly.

“Come on, Kent,” the assistant said simply. She offered Jamie a small smile before returning her eyes to Roy. “Let’s go.”

A deep frown settled on Roy’s face, his thick eyebrows all scrunched. “But…” He shook his head. “The concert,” he said dumbly. “It’s not over.”

Something in April’s face softened as she gestured towards the exit of the VIP tent. “She’s going to come out this way,” she explained slowly. She leaned close to Roy, speaking so only he could hear. “Lanie and Keeley were thinking it’d be cute if you were there when she gets offstage. A little hug and kiss kind of thing, you know.”

Without even a glance at Keeley, Roy nodded numbly. “Right, right,” he mumbled. A little hug and kiss kind of thing. Fuck, they hadn’t kissed since…

Nope. Stop it Roy, he scolded himself. Nothing happened.

April turned on her heel and led a still thunderstruck Roy out of the VIP tent. He couldn’t quite help the way he kept glancing back over his shoulder, trying to catch one final glimpse of the popstar singing about being seen in someone’s wildest dreams. He’d heard the song so many times on the radio but now, seeing her up on stage, looking like a fucking princess, he felt like he was hearing it for the first time.

It felt like an eternity before he finally could see her again, from the half-hidden spot April had led him to so they could wait for the end of the show. Her eyes found his as the music slowed, her voice deep and almost quiet.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just pretend

The lights went out as the stadium exploded into cheers and screams, the vibrations pulsing through Roy’s body as he stood still, hands behind his back so he wouldn’t fidget with his fingers so damn much. The popstar had disappeared from the stage, where Roy’s eyes were still locked, desperate as her fans to see her back up there.

Instead, he realized she was strutting towards him, flanked by her dancers, who were just as sweaty and breathless as she was. The fluffy skirt she’d been wearing onstage was gone, revealing one of those little bodysuits that hugged her beautifully. The moment their eyes locked, she broke both into a smile and a run, launching herself into his arms the way she had when the Greyhounds had been named champions.

Roy opened his arms for her automatically, chuckling into her frizzy hair and giving her a squeeze. He ignored the fact that fans were shouting their names and taking photos and videos of their embrace; he just wanted to hold her tight, to let his hug tell her how incredibly proud and impressed he was after watching her put on an impossibly incredible show.

She was the first one to pull back, laughter in her eyes as she gazed up at him. “Sorry,” she exhaled, still holding onto Roy’s arms. “I know I’m all sweaty.”

Her flushed cheeks and breathless chuckles had something short-circuiting in Roy’s still cloudy brain. “That’s alright,” he blurted out. “I like it.” Her wrinkled nose and small smirk brought Roy back to earth. “I mean, I’m used to it,” he clarified, shaking his head. “Because of football.”

“Sure, Roycito,” she laughed, releasing him and nudging him back towards the way he’d come.

Remembering April’s words- a little hug and kiss kind of thing- Roy paused and grabbed her hip. She quirked an eyebrow at him, wordlessly asking what he was up to. He pulled her to himself and cupped her face with his free hand, tilting it to his. Their lips attached effortlessly, as though no time or awkwardness had passed since that night in her bedroom. She tasted familiar, light and delightful, and she melted against him with ease. For a moment, Roy forgot where he was, content to just have her in his arms, feeling, for the first time in what seemed to be ages, that everything was alright between them.

He let her end the kiss, her eyes sparkling in that way he’d been missing. All she did was chuckle and shake her head at him, as if assuring him that she, too, was happy they were back on track.

Instinctively, Roy reached down and intertwined their fingers, giving her hand a small squeeze as they disappeared from the shouts and cameras of the crowd.

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