#blah just wanted an excuse to ramble about this series.

[shutupdia]

Well since i finished Gintama yesterday just wanted to post my overall thoughts regarding it. DEFINITELY my favorite shounen. I've watched Naruto, Bleach, one piece, etc etc and Gintama wins for me. it's mostly comedy yeah and the comedy hits better than a lot of series but bro when it gets more serious its so enthralling. I do admit it's a little difficult to get through the first season hence why i hadn't finished it sooner but after that it's SO good imo. It's hard to say which arc was the best but the Shogun assassination arc was the most emotional for me. The fights in this anime are fucking incredible too. I have a bias and every fight with Kamui was my favorite but anyway. The sword fights are so good ugh. Also the characters in this show are really good. They never sexualized minors either which i appreciate. Gintoki as a protagonist is really great tbh. His personality is not the best like he's often lazy, an alcoholic scumbag, a bit of a pervert. he's not perfect. I like that though. I like it when protags have flaws it makes them more real. But when he needs to be, he'll go to hell and back for people he cares about. Speaking of which i do appreciate there wasn't any romantic subplot. Gintoki just ends up alone by the end of the series. Personally don't mind since i cant see him with anyone in the cast despite a few women seemingly interested in him. Speaking of the entire cast though holy shit. SO many good characters. My favorite female characters are probably Kagura and Tsukuyo. And my favorite male characters probably have to be Kamui, Okita and Takasugi. They're so interesting and fun man....

Overall the show was a blast, not perfect since there was a bit of cringe here and there but no series is perfect i guess. I definitely plan on rewatching it eventually and likely checking out that spinoff series that's coming out soon.

Also i love Kamui so so so so so so much.

[anthemofgvf]

Behind Closed Doors: Jake Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction

Part Seven

description: when your best friend asks for a favor, that being having his twin move in with you, you're hesitant. you've never really liked him, but you are struggling to meet your rent, so you oblige. who knew with time that you would become more upset with his presence, or upset with the fact you have underlying feelings for him that you don't want to face?

-the masterlist for this series-

trope: enemies to lovers x roommates au!

warnings for this series: alcohol and tobacco usage, explicit content (18+, minors dni), angst, swearing

word count: 6.2k

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

As soon as Jake shut the door behind him, you held your breath for a moment. You watched as the lock turned and clicked into place and listened to the mute sounds of his boots trotting off out of the apartment complex. You exhaled heavily, bracing yourself onto the counter with your hands on the edge of it, your back arched away from it, and your head held up to the ceiling. So much had happened in 15 minutes, and you were still trying to comprehend it.

He completely shed himself to you. The vulnerability of his heart and feelings were on full display for you only, and you felt relieved that he had felt the same way you did all along. You beat yourself up a bit for being so selfish towards him, malicious and cruel. But that was in the past now, and he had forgiven you with a kiss to signify his infatuation.

You went through your routine of getting ready for the day: eating, taking a shower, doing your makeup, and dressing up into your work uniform. Your emotions were conflicting; you wanted to smile and be happy about relieving some of the tension between you two. But he was gone now, and you had to wait two months to feel his touch again. To feel his lips crash into yours. To smell his natural musk. To be held in his arms. To simply be intimate with him.

It was an odd feeling that brewed in your stomach, making you feel empty where you should feel full. The equation of you two was solved yet put on pause temporarily. At least you knew it was because you already missed him, and not because you regretted kissing him.

As soon as you got into work, you looked for Stacie. You always made sure she was scheduled when you were (the perks of being a manager), and you were ready to update her on the news.

"Y/n!" She called for you from the back, running to you with open arms and squeezing you tightly.

You had taken some time off work to spend more time with Jake. Thankfully, your job believed your fake excuse of grieving a loss of a family member. It was half true, though; you were grieving the loss of Jake for a period of time while he was here. The inevitable you thought you were prepared for, yet you weren't.

You huffed out a laugh as she bounced with you in her arms, patting her back to let her know you appreciated the affection. She pulled away with a gleaming smile, but it began to fade once she noticed your loss of expression.

"What happened? What did Jake do to you?" She kept her hands on your back and searched for an answer by flicking between both of your eyes.

You sighed, laughing once more to yourself to contain your bitter sadness that wretched at your heart. "Oh, he didn't do anything to me. He just...left. Left for tour."

You gave her a nod, and her lips pursed into a pout.

"Not taking it well?" She cocked her head to the side, as her face softened into sympathy.

You exhaled quickly. With a shake of your head, you said, "not really."

You opened your mouth to speak again with hesitation. Of course, you wanted to tell her, but there was still a lot to process on your end.

"He, um, kissed me before he left. He poured out his feelings onto me in a ramble, and I told him how I felt, blah blah blah. And, then we kissed. I mean, it was passionate, meaningful- not something you'd think would happen when kissing him. I used to think he was so pretentious, vain - all of that self-centered shit. But the way he looked at me, the way he held me and told me how much he cared about me not only with words but with...a kiss. I'm still sitting with all of this, Stace." You said to her.

Her mouth hung agape. She stuttered for a few moments before being able to form a proper sentence. "D-did he just leave? Did this just happen, y/n?"

You nodded vigorously. "Yeah, like an hour or so ago. I didn't realize how us admitting our feelings for each other and then sealing it with a kiss would make him leaving for tour so much worse. I'm still in shock, frankly," you exhaled an airy laugh, "but I guess it just comes to show that you don't realize how much you're going to miss someone until they're gone."

You felt like you were being dramatic. As if you shouldn't have been missing him this much. You were able to call him, text him whenever you wanted to. He was going to return, but the time in between that seemed like it would be longer. Uncertainty of what would happen while he was gone, like if he'd hook up with any girls that came his way. He wasn't tied down to you, but it felt like he was fully committed to you by the way he spoke to you.

"I'm so sorry," she gave you another hug, rubbing your back and pulling away from you to continue her small speech, "I mean, at least he's coming back, right? He's not moving out or anything. It gives you something to look forward to when he comes back, right? You two getting to see each other after so long; it's going to be electric. And, hey, modern technology allows us to talk to those who are far away. Shoot him a text, maybe call him after work. I'm sure he misses your voice."

You nodded to her, running your hands over your hair and smoothing it out as you tied it into a high ponytail. "Yeah, I think I will. I've still got to tell Josh, who I'm sure has already heard from Jake, but I think it'd mean more to him that I told him. He loves gossip."

You both laughed at your words. Josh always loved insights on your love life, and an insight on your regular life itself. He cared about that kind of thing, and always wanted to make sure you were secure.

"Gonna tell him after work?" She asked you, walking away to the front to begin a day of work.

"Think so. Have to see what he's doing. He's working on a film right now, so his schedule has been a bit tight." You nodded to her. "But I might call Jake first. Guess we'll have to see which twin I talk to first, huh?"

"That's a sentence I never thought you would say." She laughed. "It's funny how things change. I remember you being so dead set on hating Jake for the time he lived with you. Now, it seems like you want him to live with you forever."

You pushed her shoulder with a laugh. "I can't believe I was so spiteful to him. I truly just needed to give him a second change and get over myself. Things work out for the best sometimes, huh?"

You remembered the conversation you and Jake had when driving to the party.

"Well, and then one day, when you make enough rockstar money, you'll move out into a huge mansion. Or, a humble home, whatever floats your boat, I suppose."

And you didn't process what he said until now.

"Kind of like having you as my roommate. Maybe I'll just live with you forever until you kick me out."

This was hitting you hard, like a collision head-on. You needed to work and focus on the one thing that would usually ease your mind from what your life was like outside of the coffee house.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

When you finished work for the day and arrived at home, you checked your phone to see a text message from Jake.

"Might have already eaten all the brownies. Don't worry, the other guys helped me out. Thank you for making them for me, I appreciate it. Hope work was okay, X."

You smiled at your phone, tugging at your bottom lip and feeling grateful for his text. Before you began to type, you looked down the hall from the kitchen where you stood and decided to go into his room. Sure, you had been in there before, but only when he had occupied it.

You shoved your phone into your pocket and saw the floors clear of his guitars. His closet was open, and half empty from his clothes. A lot of the jewelry he brought was gone, along with a multitude of shoes. It didn't feel like he lived here with you anymore, because his personality seemingly left the room.

You reached for your phone as you sat on his bed and texted him back.

"Glad you and the boys enjoyed the brownies. Work was good, but my mind was kind of everywhere. Call me when you can! I'd like to hear about tour life so far, although it's barely been a day." You responded back and shut off your phone. You looked around Jake's room once more, as it was making you depressed staying in the room that was too quiet for your liking and left to your bedroom.

You washed yourself free of the coffee house, changing into clothes suitable enough to wear outside in the bitter cold, as you planned to see Josh today. You had texted him earlier while you were on break to ask if he was free later tonight but had yet to receive a response. He wasn't a great texter, so whether he was busy or not, you were sure he'd just call instead to respond.

Silence used to soothe you. You used to adore a quiet apartment; a calm environment free of distractions. But when Jake had moved in, that original opinion was flipped around. You missed the faint sound of him playing guitar in his bedroom, humming to himself and pausing his playing to probably write a lyric down. The sounds of him shuffling around in his room. His footsteps that creeped to your room and would knock on your door to come bother you. Of course, you enjoyed his company now, but you wished you hadn't been so defensive of your space for as long as you were. So much missed time that you rid because of your hatred of him and trying to make up that time within a few weeks. It wasn't enough time, and you were just hoping that time would forgive you and allow you to be more comfortable with his absence.

Eventually, Josh called you and told you he would stop by to keep you some company later that night. You were grateful that the apartment wouldn't be so quiet anymore, and he was going to bring his big personality over to cheer you up. You hadn't told him what happened, nor did he tell you that he knew of anything, so whatever tonight would bring was a mystery to you.

To kill time, you cleaned your entire apartment. Wiping off the counters and cabinets, cleaning the bathrooms, dusting everywhere that you believed needed to be. You made the decision of playing Jake's EP while you cleaned, which helped you daydream that he was still there with you. You even let yourself close your eyes and imagine him playing in front of you, singing to you in a serenade manner.

You even reminisced on a memory that you two held while he was still here. You both were at your apartment in his room, sitting on his bed, and it did involve his guitar. He was playing you the song you heard him sing when you first saw him perform, which was "Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton. Thinking on that fond memory now made you realize that the song had meaning. He was singing it for you, and the song was a translation of his feelings. God were you oblivious sometimes.

You clapped and howled after he finished the last chord, watching as his face became a hue of pink and wearing a bashful smile.

"Encore, encore!" You beamed.

"I'm a bit played out, sunshine." He said as he set his guitar down onto the bed behind the two of you.

You rolled your eyes. "Will you ever give that nickname a rest? It's corny, Jacob."

He bit back a smile. "Will you ever stop calling me Jacob?"

You raised your brows. Your lips downturned into a smile, sucking your cheek and shaking your head. "If you stop calling me sunshine, I'll stop using your government name. How's that?"

He nodded, holding his hand out. "That's a deal, y/n."

You grasped his hand with a giggle, shaking it and holding your hand in his for a moment. It was coarse, with his calloused fingertips caressing the back of your hand. How could rough hands feel so soft and welcoming?

You pulled your hand from his, setting it on your lap and looking to him. "You know, for someone who says they don't rehearse often, you sure like to play your guitar a lot."

"There's a difference between rehearsing and just playing to make sure you're keeping your skills up to date. Do you expect me not to play?" He said with a hint of a smile.

"Was just a bit confused, that's all." You shrugged. "How come you don't have a show here in Nash? I assumed you'd book a venue here for tour."

"We want to do a show here separately from tour. Like, a more intimate setting, you know? It's going to be far out from the tour, so fans can come see me if they please."

"Fans are traveling all around the world for you, huh? Got some groupies, Jake?"

He chuckled at your words. "I'm-no, no y/n," he continued his laughter, "I'm not the type to do that kind of stuff anymore. You grow out of it, I guess? I'm not a hormonal teenager anymore, believe it or not. Don't think that aspect of a rockstar life is for me. Sure, flirting is fun, but it's mainly harmless." He gave you a shrug.

"Does that mean if I become a fan, you'll flirt with me more than you used to?"

"Who knows. Guess you're just going to have to find out, huh?"

You took in a breath, pressing your lips together to contain a smile and giving him a nod. You felt your cheeks burn, running to your ears and creating a fire on the entirety of your face.

"I think I'm going to head to bed before you start something you can't finish." You pointed at him, standing up and walking to the door.

You turned to him and noticed his eyes lingering on you. You considered that he was watching you walk away. Maybe his eyes trailed to your ass in your tight sweatpants, but all you did was tell him "Goodnight" and put that thought at ease.

What shot you out of your daydream was your phone vibrating on the counter, and you turned swiftly to the device and picked it up.

"You on your way, Josh?" You said into the phone.

"Actually, I am here, y/n. Decided to drop by a bit early since we wrapped up on set faster than I expected. Mind letting me in?"

"Yeah, see you in a second." You said and hung up the phone.

You walked out of your apartment and opened the door to the complex for him, rushing him inside as you bounced up and down from the biting wind that nipped at your covered legs and face. He was sure to be quick inside, and you had a full body shiver as you closed the door.

He took off his coat and gestured it to you, but you pushed it away with a smile as you felt yourself warming up.

"Good to see you." He smiled at you, placing his hand on your back and rubbing it gently. "How's the day been treating you?"

"Did you hear from Jake?" You said to him.

You opened your door and let him walk in first, and he began to kick off his shoes and place his coat on the rack that sat by your door.

His lips were pressed together, and he gave you a shake of his head. "No, why? What happened?"

"Seriously? Does your brother tell you nothing these days?" You followed him into your living room and plopped onto the couch.

He sat down next to you, throwing one arm over the back of the couch and waiting for you to speak.

You sighed and tried to think of where to begin. "Well, I guess the major event of the day was that he admitted his feelings for me, and we kissed."

Josh's eyes lit up, and with a sharp gasp, he leaned in towards you with excitement. He blinked a few times in astonishment. For a moment, he couldn't formulate words. Usually, he was never speechless, but guess it could be because nothing has shocked him this much.

"I can't believe that fucker didn't tell me! Holy shit! How do you feel?" His words tumbled out of his mouth quickly.

You laughed at him. Composing yourself, you continued.

You told him about your excitement about it all, and the relief you felt. Then, you gave him the backstory of the lead up to the kiss, and he listened intently.

"You make him nervous? You're a special woman, y/n. Rarely does he ever get nervous. He's always been a confident guy. I knew he had feelings for you, but he never really dug into the root of it."

"You knew he had feelings for me, and you didn't tell me?" You yelled with a smile, swatting his arm and looking at him with a playful, stern glare.

"Y/n, I told you the moment you called me about him moving in. I told you he's always had feelings for you, and you said that all he wanted from you was one thing. You refused to believe me, so I let it take its course. Besides, it's not my place to get involved." He explained to you.

And he was right. He did in fact tell you that Jake had feelings for you before moved in and you were finalized on your decision. And he even predicted you turning your feelings around for him.

"He likes you, y'know."

"Well, I predict that your mind will change with time. Perhaps, you know, him moving in with you and the both of you creating a bond... It's a perfect story line, in my opinion."

"I am so fucking oblivious sometimes," you slapped your hand against your head, "but I guess I should thank you for not getting too involved. We worked things out on our own."

He nodded with a hum. "Well, have you talked to him? How are you taking the whole tour and him being gone?"

"We texted earlier, and I asked him to call me when he could. I assume he's busy, so I don't expect a call anytime soon. But I do miss him a lot. I guess the whole thing that happened today really just fucked with my head, in a good way, of course. I'm glad he didn't wait, because then I would've been left with overthinking about everything that has happened between us, you know?"

"I'm guessing you're not enjoying the quiet apartment, huh? Noticed you have Jake's EP on your record player." He nodded towards the open case, then flashing his eyes at the sleeve that laid on the coffee table in front of you two. "It's hard to be away from someone that you've grown so fond over, huh?"

"Yeah," you breathed, "I sort of feel like I miss him too much."

"I think your feelings are absolutely valid, y/n. I mean, he rambled a whole uncomposed monologue to you about how he felt, then left you with a kiss. That's kind of hard to just breeze through and not give much thought." He reached his hand to your shoulder and gave it a rub.

You nodded at him. You were unsure of what to say to him, so you averted your gaze and allowed that familiar silence to roam the air and consume the atmosphere. Only for this moment did you enjoy the silence, because it gave you a second to remember how Jake's lips felt on yours, and how he held you.

"Already feeling a bit lonely, huh?" Josh said to you.

You looked to him. "Is that bad?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, of course not. Do you want some company for the night? I know I'm not Jake, but we kind of resemble each other."

You gave him an affectionate smile as you huffed a soft laugh at him. "I would really appreciate that. You sure, though? Don't you have a lot of work to do?"

"I don't go on set until later in the day. Tomorrow is another night shoot, so I've got the day to kill. Let's just watch some movies until we pass out, yeah?" He asked.

"That sounds really fucking nice. I'll make some popcorn, and let you pick out the movies, Mr. Director." You poked at him.

"I have a few good movies in mind that I'm sure you haven't seen." He pointed at you with a wiggle of his brow, grabbing the remote off the coffee table and turning the TV on.

You stood up and walked into the pantry, finding a few packets of popcorn and grabbing a bowl from your cabinet. You set one of the packets into the microwave and let the kernels pop.

"Does this mean I'm going to be getting a personal commentary the whole time?" You said as you walked into the living room.

"Would this be a movie night with me if I didn't talk over the movie at least once?" He turned to you with a smirk.

You sat onto the couch and gave him a shrug. "I always assumed you would be absolutely mute during movies."

"Only certain ones. But some of the movies I have picked out for tonight need a bit of explanation of some kind. They twist at your mind." He pointed to his temple and tapped at it and began the first movie.

While the movie played, you made a few runs to the kitchen to finish popping the rest of the popcorn for you two and finally bringing a large bowl full of the buttery snack for you both to enjoy. You had it set on your lap and curled up next to Josh, as there wasn't any issue with physical contact between you two. Neither of you saw each other in a non-platonic light, as it's always been a great friendship where both of you were comfortable being close to each other. You were thankful to have a friend like Josh, and to know someone so caring.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

As the next movie played, Josh decided to be a bit quieter this time round and allow you to enjoy the movie. While it played, your phone rang in your pocket of your sweatpants, and you dug it out to see who was calling you. Of course, like you expected, it was Jake.

"Do you want me to pause the movie?" Josh asked you.

"No, keep watching it. I'll be back." You said, setting the near empty bowl of popcorn onto his lap and answering the call as you trotted off into your bedroom.

"Hi, Jake." You said to him as you closed your door behind you.

"Did you miss me?" He asked you.

"Back to your cocky self, huh?" You giggled with an eyeroll. You folded one arm over your body as you walked around your room.

"Was just making sure that you weren't too comfortable with my absence. In case you wanted to know, I miss you already."

You tugged at your lip. "I guess I miss you a little." You said playfully.

"Just a little? Didn't get that impression when you texted me to call you when I could."

You giggled. There was that old Jake, the one that you knew to be so confident in himself. It was good to know he was back to his old ways, but not in an annoyingly arrogant way. His nerves were soothed now that he knew you had feelings for him, too.

"Alright, so I miss you a good amount. Is that what you want to hear?"

There was a pause, but only for a moment. You heard him exhaled a staggered breath.

"Yeah, I do. Good to know you miss me, too."

There was a beat before he began to talk again.

"So, how's it going? Not getting too lonely, right?"

"Josh is over right now. We're watching a few movies, and he plans on staying over for the night." You sat yourself on the edge of your bed, throwing your legs onto the mattress and lying flat on your back.

"I'm glad he's keeping you company." He said to you.

"Did you guys get to the first stop yet?" You asked him.

"Yup. We made it to Indianapolis pretty late, so we're all in our hotel rooms right now. Kind of glad I don't have to sleep on the tour bus when we're not driving."

"Is the first show tomorrow? Are you excited?"

"Yeah, I am. It's kind of bizarre that there are people coming to see me perform, instead of seeing an opening act along with me. It feels good, like a confidence boost."

"As if you needed one." You huffed a laugh, to which he matched.

"It still feels nice!" He laughed. "But I do wish you were here with me. Sucks you have to work. Hopefully eventually you'll be able to come tour with me."

"I think I'd have to take a leave of absence to be able to do that, but hey, it's doable. Thinking about it now, it sounds fun. I'd get to travel for free while supporting you. It's a win-win." You said.

"You're just now thinking about me?"

"I've been thinking about you all day, Jake." You rolled your eyes with a smile. "You must really like hearing me talk about how much I miss you."

"Because I do. I wish you were here with me right now."

Your heart banged against your chest. The flirting that you had barely had time for when he was here was occurring now, and although you couldn't see his face, his voice was right into your ear. You squeezed and rubbed your legs tightly together, due to when he spoke, it was lustful. Frankly, both you and him knew that if he didn't have to leave, you two wouldn't have stopped kissing each other.

He continued. "You know that if I had more time with you before I left, or maybe just fessed up sooner, I would've made sure to savor our time together in a more intimate way." He spoke slowly.

"How so, Jake?" You said, pressing your thighs tightly together again to relieve some friction that you needed. You knew what he was insinuating, and you hoped he would continue.

"Fuck," he breathed, "are you sure I'm not taking time away from you? I know Josh is over."

"No, it's fine. I told him everything, so he's well aware that I'm going to be on the phone for a bit." You reassured him. You weren't going to end this phone call high and dry.

"Okay," he said, "well, for one, I want you to use your hands as a replacement of my own as I tell you what I want to do to you. What I am going to do to you the moment I see you again. Now, close your eyes for me, pretty girl."

You put your phone in the crook of your neck, leaning your phone into your ear and laying your hands on your stomach. You shut your eyes and imagined him there in front of you, as you figured that is why he asked you to do so. "Keep talking, Jake."

"I'd want to touch you everywhere, y/n. Not miss a spot on your body. Praise you, make you feel good. I'd trail my hand from the side of your face to your neck, dragging it down to your tits."

You followed his motions, using one hand to caress the side of your face, and drag it down to the cave of your breasts. You brought your other hand under your shirt, slowly creeping it up as he continued to speak.

"And of course, my mouth would explore your body, but" he chuckled, "for now, hands will do. I'd squeeze at your nipples and massage your tits."

You did as he said, exhaling a quiet sigh as you rolled your left nipple in your pointer and thumb, and massaging your other breast. You heard his choked breaths, assuming he was stroking himself, which turned you on more. You were saddened you couldn't see the sight unfold in front of you, but hearing every sound he uttered made up for it.

A long sigh was breathed into the phone on his end, which made you bite back a moan that bubbled in your throat.

"I'd then take your pants off." He said, and you quickly tugged them off and left them at your ankles with your underwear. You spit on your fingers in anticipation. "And I would be buried in between your thighs, licking at your clit."

You circled at the area, moaning into the phone quietly as a sign you were doing as he said. He groaned harshly, letting a few swears pass through his lips.

"Touching yourself like a good girl?" He asked you, even though he knew the answer.

"Yes, fuck." You whined into the phone. "Please, keep talking, Jake."

"God, I love talking you through this," he groaned, "just know I'm going to do all of this to you when I get home. Worship your fucking body, touch and kiss you everywhere I can. Make you feel so...fucking good, y/n."

You tugged at your lip, nervous that your moans would grow loud for Josh to hear. But you kept them quiet enough to be heard into the phone, and not echo onto the walls of your bedroom.

"While my tongue is on your pussy, I'd finger you slowly. Want this to last." He said to you. "Only one finger, though, babe. I'll tell you when you can add another, okay?"

You kept your fingers on your clit and managed to move your other hand around your other, sliding in one finger and curling it upon entrance. Your mouth opened as you felt your finger hit your sweet spot inside of your walls, and feel it effortlessly slide in and out of you. A high-pitched sigh escaped your lips, to which Jake groaned at.

"Keep making those pretty noises for me, y/n. And keep fingering yourself like the good girl you are."

You continued the motions, keeping true to his word and moving your finger slowly inside of you. You lazily circled your clit, as you didn't want to drive yourself to your orgasm just yet. Moans of ecstasy roamed into the phone, and they only continued to fumble out of your mouth when you heard him. If you listened closely, you could hear his hand sliding on his length at a steady pace and that had you wanting to throw your head back into the pillow.

"Go ahead and add a second finger for me and speed up your movements. You're doing so good for me, y/n."

You did as he demanded, and you bit down at your bottom lip with a whine.

"Fuck, Jake," you whimpered, "feels so fucking good."

"God, I wish I could see you right now," he sighed, "I'm sure you look so pretty touching yourself."

You let out a light giggle, grinding your hips into the motion of your fingers and leaving your mouth dropped open.

"I don't know how long I'm going to last like this, y/n. Go faster babe, I want you to cum with me."

Your eyes were squeezed shut as you let your fingers pump in and out of you and a merciless pace. Your movement on your clit had faltered, because you were so focused on your fingers hitting the one spot inside of you that was the key to your orgasm, and you began to feel the coil in your stomach tighten.

"Are you close, Jake? I'm so, so close." You whined breathlessly, making sure to keep your voice low for only his ears to hear.

"God, yes. I'm gonna cum, y/n. Keep talking to me. I love the sound of your fucking voice." He said, and it sounded like he said it with gritted teeth.

You were quick on your feet with what you would say to him. "Wanna feel you inside of me, Jake. I've waited so long for it and God do I want it badly." You moaned.

"So perfect for me, aren't you?" He said with a rushed tone. "Fuck, I'm cumming. Come on, y/n, cum with me." He said harshly.

You focused on your fingers and the sound of his choked breath as his release spewed out, and you felt your own overtake your body. A full body shiver entrapped you on your bed, with your back arching and your thighs trembling around your fingers. You held back a loud whine, closing your mouth and humming it behind your lips.

You caught your breath as you heard him catch his own, removing your fingers from yourself, putting your sweatpants and underwear back on, and getting up to clean off your hand and yourself. Your knees were slightly weak, so you were steady walking into your bathroom.

"Fuck, you okay?" He said breathlessly to you.

You closed the bathroom door and put him on speaker phone as you washed your hands. "Yeah, yeah I am. Don't think I've ever had phone sex before."

He huffed a laugh. "Glad I could be your first."

You smiled at your phone, cleaning yourself off and putting him back to your ear as you turned off the speaker button.

"I do miss you, you know. After all of this, I'd just want to be in bed next to you."

You rubbed your lips together and let another smile invade your lips. "I want that, too. Only two more months left." You said with a huff.

"It sounds longer than you think. I'm sure it'll fly by, and I'll be back before you know it."

"I sure hope so. It's barely been a day and I can't even imagine how I'm going to feel a week from now, let alone a month. But I'll get over myself. As long as you keep me updated and talk to me every now and then."

"I'll try talking to you as much as I can, y/n. Don't worry. But I should let you get back to your time with Josh, and I should catch some sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

You began walking to your door and let your hand rest on the handle. "Okay, sleep well. Goodnight, Jake."

"Goodnight, y/n." He said to you and hung up the phone.

You walked out slowly, and looked to see if Josh was awake. The bowl of popcorn was on the table, and his head was rolled back on the couch with his eyes closed. You laughed to yourself and grabbed a throw blanket from the side of the couch that you had abandoned throughout the movie night. You tucked yourself in next to him, throwing the cloth over you two, and resting your eyes.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

It had been almost two weeks since that day. You and Jake talked nearly every day, either before one of his shows, or while he was on the road. If you two weren't texting, he was calling you. You both even indulged in Facetiming each other, and it was nice to see his face after a while. You two had your fair share of phone sex once or twice, but neither of you wanted to make that a main priority. You both wanted to make sure that what you had wasn't about lust, but heartfelt feelings and pure romance.

It helped that you talked to him a lot, and although you still missed him, it helped to hear his voice and see his face. He showed you some pictures from the places he traveled, different sights that he had been to and some photos of the venues he got to perform in. Sure, they were small, but he told you they were nearly packed every night. You believed him and were also beyond proud of his accomplishments.

Now, all you had left to do was wait for his return. Sure, that's what you've been doing, but after two days, it really set in that you'd have to wait longer to see him in person again. You figured long distance would be hard, but thankfully, it wasn't too difficult. You were just thankful that he was returning home to you, and not to anyone else.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

-part eight-

series taglist: @jakekiszkasmommy @anythingforjtk @gold-mines-melting @twistedmelodies @ageofhearingloss @classicsneverdie @lmaooharry @raviolilegs @mydarlingdanny @iheartjakekiszka @edtvdf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @gvf23 @flo-gvf @madneedshelp @carlyfleet @pinkunicornsandbluecows @joshysgirl @jasminesworldd @alwaysonthemend @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @takenbythemadness @jaketlove @starcatcher-jake @hi-hi-hello11 @amygvf13 @alyson814 @char289 @becinabubblegvf @worldsgayestbonenerd @intoth3ether @m0uthfl13s @klarxtr

other tags: @songbirds-sweet @sacredjake @mountain-in-springtime @ignite-my-fire @gvfsstardust @jakesguitarsolo @fallonfatality @digitalcalamity @demolitionndann @lipstickitty @lexii-nv-c @joopsworld @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye @writingcold @loverleaverslayerbeliever @stardustcatcher @absolutely--mental @hippievanfleet @haileygvf @gretasfallingsky @dont-go-home-without-me @beckahvanfleet @threadthatssacred @indigofallingsky @audgeppp @sinarainbows @brujamagik @bowievanfleet @sam-i-am-20 @laneygvf @psychedelicsprinkles @malany-gvf @idontlikelizards @josh-iamyour-mama @julihurrr @starshine-wagner @lyndz2names @jaketswine @jjwasneverhere @interstellar-shores

[kinktae]

bitchin’ || pt. 9 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 4.7k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: fanservice. that's it. that’s the tweet.

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness!

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

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PART NINE

"Okay, just sign your name here, and she'll come to get you when she's ready." The cheery girl at the front desk told you.

You offered her a polite smile, walking over to the sit in the waiting room.

You always disliked these chairs. We were willing to bet money that these chairs have sat in this very room since your university first opened, worn out, uncomfortable, and outdated. Sure, maybe you had been in a bit of a sour mood lately – what with your fake ex-boyfriend dirty dicking you and all – but as you sat there, metal rod poking your spin, you couldn't help but frown.

As you sat there contemplating your school's renovation budget, you hardly noticed the sound of another student walking in and over to the front desk, your stomach churning as you put a face to those loose curls.

"Hey, stranger! What are you doing here?" Kiri's white teeth blinded you, walking over to you once her business with the receptionist was done.

You could feel one of your eyebrows twitch in irritation, swallowing down your scoff as she sat next to you.

"Trying to schedule my class next semester." You responded uninterestedly, contemplating whether or not the suspension from decking Kiri in the face would be worth it.

"Oh, just picking up a termination form. One of our newbies wants to pull out of Kappa Alpha Tau."

Shocker...

"Hey, so sorry to hear things with Jungkook and you didn't work out, by the way." Kiri flashed you a sympathetic look.

An audible breath left your lips, disbelief no doubt visible on your every feature. Did Kiri seriously think you didn't know it was her who home wrecked? Or was she just that much of a raging bitch?

"If you ever need someone to, like, talk to, just know that I'm here. I totally know what you're going through."

Your hands found themselves curling into tight balls in an attempt to keep your hands from shaking. Kiri looked as cool as a cucumber in front of you, perfectly composed, not a single hair out of place.

Then it hit you.

Of course. It all made perfect sense now.

From the moment she came up to you at your event offering her condolences, she had been trying to drive you off from Jungkook. She was planting seeds of doubt about their break up and his character. Manipulation and intimidation were her cards, and she played them well.

Fine. If the rules were being bent, you might as well disregard them altogether. You relaxed your hands.

"Oh, no worries. It's all good, I mean, it's not like we were actually dating." You shrugged.

Rule #2: No one can know the truth.

"What?" Kiri blinked, her smile faltering for just a moment.

You edged closer to her, cocking your head in mock surprise.

"Oh... did you not know that? That our entire relationship was contractual?"

"What are you talking about?" Her full brows furrowing.

You let out a sigh, "Yeah, so, basically, Jungkook would get his frat to fund my event if I helped make you jealous so that you'd come crawling back to him."

The polite mask that Kiri had plastered on finally cracked, her next words clipped and curt.

"What the hell is your damage, Y/N? Do you think I'm some sort of idiot how'd fall for that?"

"Good grief, did Jungkook not tell you? Weird, I feel like that's something he'd need to tell his girlfriend." You puffed out your bottom lip in mock sympathy.

Whatever resolve Kiri had built up crumbled at the way you held her stare, a note of honesty in your voice that she couldn't shake.

"I'm..." She cleared her throat, turning her nose up. "We're not actually back together yet."

"No? Really? Hmm..."

The call of your name crossed the room, and the two of you turned to look at the receptionist, ushering you over with the news that your counselor was ready for you.

You turned to Kiri with a smile, "Guess he didn't want you back as so much as he just wanted back in your pants."

Kiri looked utterly stunned, eyes wide as you stood from your seat, for once, without a clue as to what to say.

"See ya around, Kiri. Let's do lunch sometime. Oh and, happy holidays!" You fluttered your fingers at her, slipping away from her with a smugness you couldn't be assed to hide.

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"Wait... he called you?!" Taehyung laughed, eyes wide.

Yara nodded, scouring through the shelves, a specific book in mind. Belinda Carlisle was playing softly overhead and Yara found herself humming along.

As the holidays rolled around and everyone found themselves back in their hometowns, Yara was surprised to find Jungkook's frat brother browsing through the jam aisle in her local supermarket. As luck would have it, Jungkook's genetically blessed frat brother was from her hometown, the two somehow never crossing paths until now.

What started as a polite catchup over coffee, quickly turned into an everyday thing, the two of them realizing they had more in common than friend drama.

"He did!" Yara enthused. "He left a voicemail apologizing and rambled about how he wanted Y/N's address so he could go apologize, blah, blah, blah."

"That idiot." Taehyung rolled his eyes. He watched as she let out a noise of excitement, looking over her shoulder to announce that she had found the book she was in search of. He grinned in response.

"Anyway, I didn't call back. Because that's exactly how she wants to spend Christmas morning, with that jockstrap knocking at her door, right?"

Taehyung snorted, bringing the straw of his drink to his mouth.

"Miriam is gonna have your head on a stick Lord of the Flies style if she catches you with that drink in her library." Yara warned, to which Taehyung dismissed with a wave of a hand.

Yara was a funny girl; he was pleasantly surprised to bump into her during winter break. He could tell something was off when they first ran into each other, so he invited her out to grab some coffee. It was over a warm cup of coffee – with the most absurd amount of sugar he had ever seen – that she finally shared with him all that had been weighing on her mind lately.

Sure there was the Jungkook and Y/N stuff. Yara was beyond homicidal. Taehyung was grateful for winter break as he was positive she would have rung out Jungkook's neck had she seen him after what had happened. Taehyung himself was astounded to find out what exactly was true nature of the two's relationship, curtesy of Yara, of course. Even if it was fake, however, he knew Jungkook enough to know that the happiness he gave off once Y/N entered his life wasn't.

But more than that, the petite girl was worried about a boy, an irritating one who Taehyung happened to be frat brothers with. Eunwoo had approached her immediately after Kiri left him, spewing some excuse about only dating Kiri because he couldn't get Yara out of his mind.

It was bullshit if you asked Taehyung. But he hadn't the heart to tell Yara that, especially with the way she looked so torn up about it – unsure of how to respond to Eunwoo. He wasn't entirely sure what their relationship was like, but he figured it must have meant enough to her to have her feeling this conflicted.

So he did his best to cheer her up, inviting her for lunch and driving her to their local library, which he had come to find out was her favorite place growing up. They spent many afternoons sprawled out on the couches in the now abandoned children's section of the library... or at least until the crabby librarian yelled at them to leave.

If Taehyung was honest, he didn't care much for literature – he was a math guy – but the way Yara would shove a book into his chest with wide eyes and an 'if you don't read this and tell me your thoughts on it, I'll literally die,' seemed reason enough to keep showing up day after day.

"Have you talked to her about Eunwoo, yet?"

Yara flinched at the blond man's words.

"Why don't we ever talk about normal people stuff? Like the weather, or what sports team played last night."

"Yara..."

"Oooh!" She exclaimed suddenly, "I know, let's talk about President Reagan. Did you hear his speech about tearing down the wall in Germany? Crazy stuff–"

"Dude, why are you so scared to tell her about Eunwoo? You told me." Taehyung interrupted, quirking up a brow. Yara held his eyes for a moment before sighing.

"I just don't want to bring it up to Y/N, you know? She has enough going on..."

"So? She's your best friend. She'll want to help."

"Exactly! She's going to want to comfort me and make me feel better – which will just make me feel worse." Yara groaned, leaning back against the bookshelf.

"I'm... not following." The frat boy admitted.

Surely girls aren't usually this hard to understand.

"Look, I know you'd only known me for a little while, but let me pencil you in. I have a reputation, okay? Yara doesn't get hung up on some dumb boy." Yara wagged her finger at him.

"Does Yara usually talk about herself in the third person?" Taehyung chuckled.

"Yara," she continued, paying the boy no mind, "is an independent woman who likes one night stands and sex without strings. She doesn't like clingy boys getting into her head and confusing her."

Taehyung nodded, "So basically, Yara is scared of catching feelings."

"Shh! Don't tell Yara about what Yara doesn't want to hear." She turned her nose up at him, pushing herself back off the stand to march away from him. Taehyung reached for her arm without hesitation, stopping her departure with a sigh.

"Look, I don't mean to be on your ass about this, but clearly, you feel something for this kid. Otherwise, you wouldn't be spending all your time pining over him."

Taehyung immediately wished he could take back those words as an offended look fell across the petite girl's face, her hands falling onto her hips, clearly displeased.

"Pining? You think I'm pining over Eunwoo?"

Taehyung shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to navigate this situation. As much as he liked Yara, she did spark a healthy dose of fear into him.

"Well... I mean... you're spending your whole break with me just because I can give you a ride to the library so you can read sad romance novels and cry."

"First of all," Yara began, "I happen to enjoy your company. You're a good listener and, frankly, very nice to look at."

Surprise fell over Taehyung, "Nice to look at?"

"Oh, don't act like you don't know." She waved him off, "Secondly, I've never cried. I've let out a sniffle at most."

"Fine, so you're not pining over him. Just get back together with him." He responded.

"I can't."

Taehyung frowned, "Then turn him down."

"I can't do that either." She frowned right back.

"Dude."

"I'm scared, okay!" She whined, thumping a foot against the library's carpeted floor.

"Of what? What's holding you back from going back to Eunwoo?"

"...He told me he loves me."

"And?"

"And I don't even know what that means!" Yara threw her hands up in exasperation, the sleeve of her swear falling down her forearms. "I don't know how to love him back or be a good girlfriend – which I know is what he wants from me."

"Yara, I hope you don't feel like you don't owe Eunwoo anything. Because you don't." Taehyung grew serious, which only caused the torn girl to pout.

"I know, I just... I mean, I don't hate him. But it's scary. Whenever I'm dating someone, I get all up in my head like... Am I supposed to be this someone's person? Possibly forever? What the fuck!"

"No, I get it. It's a lot of pressure." He shrugged powerlessly.

"Exactly! I don't want to have to try and love someone. I want to do it. Like... not to sound like a sappy idiot but sometimes I think about all those stories I read," she gestured towards the books beside her, "about feeling a spark when you kiss your person and just... I dunno. Would be fucking nice, instead of this complicated bullshit."

Yara was far from a hopeless romantic. As much as she loved to read about romance, she had an innate urge to flee the moment the word love came around. Still, she could appreciate the idea of it.

"So then forget about that stuff. Forget about labels and expectations. Just be with whoever you want to be with. Have fun, worry about the heavy shit later."

Taehyung had a very soothing effect whenever he spoke. His tone was low and lovely, and despite the way Yara's head was still running a mile a minute, she appreciated the boy's docile nature. Certainly made her feel a whole lot less anxious.

"I want to. That's how this whole thing with Eunwoo started, ya know?" She admitted, crossing her arms over her chest. "But all men are the same. They say they're fine with keeping it casual, but they always end up falling for me, which, duh, understandable..."

The blond boy let out an airy snicker, a direct challenge to Yara's words.

"Something funny, Tae?" She pressed.

"C'mon, that's not true." He rolled his eyes breezily.

"Oh, yeah? Tell that to my four ex-partners who are all still in love with me."

"Maybe you just haven't met the one. You know... your knight-in-no-strings-attached-armor."

"I'm telling you, no such guy exists." Yara emphasized with a poke into Taehyung chest.

He grabbed the jabby finger reflexively, his long fingers wrapping around the small digit, setting his drink on the nearest shelf.

"Yara."

"Seriously, I've done my research! You're looking at a hot commodity, buddy. I may be a raging homebody, but I am very efficient—"

Suddenly, the petite was trapped against the bookshelf with Taehyung hovering over her, a large hand on either side of her head.

"Please stop talking."

Yara's cheeks flushed in surprise as she met the handsome boy's warm eyes, growing even hotter as he leaned over and pressed his mouth against hers.

He smelled distinctly of vanilla, and it sent her stomach fluttering, reeling in the way he gripped her waist, pulling him into her. She would've lost herself in the feeling of his soft lips moving against hers if it weren't for a cough ringing out from somewhere in the library.

Yara broke the kiss short, ears red as she brought her hands to wrap around her torso defensively, trying her hardest to ignore the way her heart was pounding against her chest as if trying to escape.

"You kissed me!" She scoffed, trying her hardest to seem unaffected. Taehyung shrugged.

"You kissed me back."

Oh god, this was bad. She felt all light and giddy tucked away in this corner of the library, the gorgeous tall man still close in proximity, looking at her through a smirk.

"Yes, well... I'm a very go with the flow kind of gal." She defended, brows furrowed adorably.

"Relax, Yara."

"Well, what the hell was that precisely?! Do you just make out with all your library buddies? Is there some sort of library buddy étiquette I'm not aware of?"

"I kissed you because I wanted to. Kissing is fun." He shrugged. "Some guys just want that, you know."

Son of a bitch.

"You got balls, Goldilocks. Understood. Message received, loud and clear." Yara acknowledged through narrowed eyes.

"Happy I could help, bookworm."

A corner of her mouth turned upwards, admittedly amused.

"Just so we're on the same page... you're not in love with me? You just smooched me for fun?" She looked at him skeptically.

"Sorry you had to find out this way." Taehyung joked, earning him an eye roll.

"And you don't have some ex-lover you need to make jealous?"

At those words, the frat boy laughed heartily, head shaking a firm no.

"Wicked."

Yara hopped onto the balls of her feet, hoping to catch the blond's kiss once more when her mouth met the hardcover of a book instead. She sank back down with an annoyed huff; Taehyung had pulled a book from the nearest self in reach, holding it up between them to pause the eager girl's ministrations.

Poking his head out from behind the book cheekily, he flashed her a lopsided grin.

"Easy there, tiger. What about Eunwoo?"

Yara held his eyes for a moment, wondering how she hadn't noticed what a pretty brown they were until now. She let out an appreciative hum.

"What about him?" She raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk on her lips that had Taehyung leaning back over to meet it with one of his own.

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"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me." You greeted him with a cautious smile as he slipped into the chair across from you.

You were nervous, to say the least, watching the tall man shift in his seat, trying to grow comfortable despite the uncomfortable circumstances.

"This place is disorienting." Erik scanned the mall cafeteria before flashing you a charming smile. "Thought you'd get tired of waiting and head back home. I apologize for my tardiness."

"No worries. I still don't know my way around at the mall, and I've been home for weeks." You grinned back.

A pleasant beat of silence passed between the two ex-lovers, each taking a moment to consider the other. Erik looked a lot older than he did in high school; he had on a brand new pair of glasses that suited him far better than the ones you remembered did. His hair was combed and styled smartly so that they would stay out of his eyes. A stark contrast from the long-haired boy you had come to know these past few months.

Dammit. Your eyes fell onto the red table between you two, cheeks growing warm as you realized your thoughts had drifted back to Jungkook, even with your ex-fiance sitting across from you.

Erik's voice rang out, "I'll be honest. I wasn't expecting you to call me."

"I wasn't expecting me to either." You confessed, your hands intertwining on the tabletop.

Really, you didn't have much reason to be nervous. I mean, it was Erik. Despite the end of your relationship, there was no bad blood between you two. It wasn't the first time seeing him since the breakup either... maybe it was why you had called him that had you so on edge.

You weren't sure exactly what you wanted from Erik. Company? A distraction? Maybe what you were asking of him was unfair, but as he placed a hand over yours reassuringly, you found the wall you had set up crumbling down.

"I can help you, but you need to talk to me, Y/N. If I could read minds, I would be a much richer man." His brown eyes rolled dramatically.

You chuckled. Same dry wit you remembered.

"I met someone."

"Is that what you wanted to tell me? Y/N, you're allowed to date other people. I understand your hesitation, but really, it is time you moved on–"

You let out a scoff, yanking your hand away from the now laughing man. You flashed him a feigned look of irritation, silently grateful for the change of pace in conversation, finding it much easier to talk when things weren't so tense.

"God, you are still just as full of yourself as I remembered." You teased.

Erik shrugged, "Not to sound like a cocky asshole, but is it not warranted?"

You let that question run through your mind. You suppose if anyone had reason to have a big head, it would be Erik. Intelligent, handsome, hard-working– everything a mother would want their daughter to have.

"It is. You've always been perfect..." You mused, a hint of sadness in your tone that Erik picked up quickly.

And all at once, his entire demeanor changed, a serious expression settling behind those frames of his.

"Tell me about him." He instructed calmly.

And so you did— the beginning, the end, and all the beautiful bits in between. You told him about a boy that challenged you in ways you never imagined– a boy who made you feel like the sun. You spoke of every stupid conversation you once thought of as meaningless but now weighed heavily on your heart and mind.

You were mad at him, of course. There was a reason you had been ignoring his calls and ordered Yara to keep him in the dark of your whereabouts, after all. But the more you talked about him, the more you lit up. Erik noticed it too. How could he not? It was that very way you spoke with an uncontainable passion that made him fall in love with you in the first place.

He watched with utmost concentration for the vocal inflections of your words, the slight movement of your brows that always seemed to speak your mind before you did.

It was clear to him that this boy wasn't just a boy. He could hear in the choice of words you used, words that were static and void of variables. But there were certain words you seemed to dance around he realized as you came to the end of the story... words that were evident to all but you.

"So... Analysis?" You breathed out, chest deflating as you took in Erik's frown.

"Above all... did you find out if he used protection? I don't want to presume anything about... was her name Kiri?" Erik paused, continuing once you nodded back at him, "but your health should be your number one concern."

"I had a friend of his ask him on my behalf. He says he used protection... I went ahead and got tested anyway, though, and I'm all good thankfully." You told him.

Whether or not Jungkook had passed along some sort of STI was heavy on your mind the next morning after you kicked him out. Thankfully, Taehyung was more than happy to get the answer you need but were still too damn pissed off to seek out yourself.

"Good." Erik sunk back into his seat, a hand coming up to run through his hair as he considered his next words. You suppose you were grateful to be able to talk to Erik like this still. Sure, he was blunt and sometimes stared at you like you were some case-study, but he didn't bat an eye of judgment at the news of the contract, for which you were grateful. He had known you for too long to find it peculiar that you'd pretend to be someone's girlfriend in exchange for furthering and fulfilling your passion project.

If anything, that was precisely in line with your character. He liked to think he instilled some of those traits into you.

"Well, frankly, I am sorry to hear this happened to you. You're a great girl; you deserve better than that."

Your neck warmed at Erik's words, slightly taken aback.

"Oh, um... thanks, that means a lot coming from you." You expressed your gratitude shyly.

Erik nodded back at you, "Seriously. It was very shitty of him to string you along for so long and for sleeping with Kiri despite knowing how you felt."

"Oh."

"Oh?" He frowned, not expecting your response.

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, pausing to watch a woman with a stroller walk past your table.

"Well..." you cleared your throat, "I'm not actually sure that he knows that I, um, like him... like that."

God, this was mortifying. The first time you had admitted you liked Jungkook and it was to your ex-fiancé? Sometimes you swear you were the protagonist in a mediocre rom-com film and no one was telling you.

Erik paused, "I see. And does he know now?"

"...No."

"I see." He sat up, fingers tapping against the table in interest. He quirked up a brow at you. "Perhaps it wasn't just him who was dishonest."

You scrunched your nose at him, not liking what you were hearing. It wasn't anything that hadn't already kept you up, tossing and turning in bed at 2 AM, of course. You had a feeling this was where this conversation would lead to. Erik, as genius as he was, was fairly predictable in this sense. Rational, dependable... nothing like the spontaneous boy you had fallen for.

"So? Even if he knew, what would that change? He slept with her..." You grumbled stubbornly.

"And maybe he wouldn't have if he had known."

You crossed your arms, "You don't know that."

"You're right. I don't. I don't even know the guy. But you do." He continued, offering you a suggestive look.

Huh. Did you think that would have stopped Jungkook? And even so, would that fact alone be enough to get you to forgive him?

"I... I don't know." Was your conclusion, pulling a hum from Erik.

"Guess the only way to know would be to discuss it with the meathead himself."

"I just... I don't want to get my heart broken again. I, quite literally, didn't sign up for this." You placed your face into your hands, hating how rational Erik had to be.

"My guess? He didn't either. It seems as if you both got more than you bargained for." He shrugged.

"He's definitely not at all what I was expecting..." You trailed off glumly.

When you first met Jungkook, he was obnoxious, cocksure, and grotesquely unbothered. You swore you had never hated anyone more on the first meet. But as you came to know him, you found in him a lot of what you wished you found in yourself. Approachable, flexible, spontaneous...

You just wished it all didn't have to hurt so bad.

"You and I are a lot alike, you know." Erik spoke up once he noticed you fall silent. " And I only realized this recently, but I think that was our downfall. When I asked you to marry me, what I was asking of you... Well, it was unfair. Because I know I would never accept that if I were in your shoes."

Your head shot up at his words, hands quick to wave at him dismissively. Asking him to meet you here was not to discuss what had gone wrong in your relationship, and you didn't want him to think that it was.

"Erik, that's okay you don't have to—"

"No, no, what I mean is... we made perfect sense together and it didn't work out in the end. This meathead of yours is nothing like you and maybe it's for the better. You said it yourself that he makes you feel important and formidable." He pressed on.

"Are you trying to imply the notion of opposites attract? Because I personally believe that's a myth and that we're drawn to those similar to us—"

"Puzzle pieces."

"Wha— Huh?" You blinked, blind-sighted by the calm man's sudden words.

Suddenly, Erik readjusted in his seat, leaning in close as he nodded his head.

"Think of life as one big puzzle, and everyone you meet is shaped differently, right? Yet somehow... they fit. We find those that complete us. And they're not necessarily opposites but—"

"But different pieces in the puzzle." You sighed, understanding the metaphor.

You raised a brow at the intellectual man, "That was uncharacteristically poetic of you. I thought you were a man of science... since when do you rely on literary devices to get your point across?"

Erik let out a dramatic sigh, fingertips pressed to the rip of his glasses, leaning back into his seat as if showing his greatness.

"I'm a growing man, Y/N. Science helps you understand the mind and the body, but as far as the heart goes... there's only so much it can tell us." He tutted wisely with a wag of his pointer finger.

"Wow. I dig this character development. I quite like this new you."

"Wanna get married now?" He deadpanned suddenly, a laugh ripping out of you at his unexpected words.

Erik grinned at the familiar sound, also finding the humor within his joke. He was pleased to see that if anything, he could at least momentarily take your mind off of your heart's turmoil.

"Ask me again in another three years." You rolled your eyes, grinning wide, to which Erik threatened that if Jungkook didn't by then, then he just might.

[incoherentbabblings]

Would you analyze/ show your opinions on stephanie's visions while under the black-magic-poison-flowers-simulator on batgirl #24? I just adore all of her happy endings and I like your interpretation of steph so much

I can have a wee (lol no) ramble about it yes! I think it’s interesting that her dad managed to get his paws on the Black Mercy. Arthur had been shown to have been alive since War Games/Crimes, and he’s back to doing that thing where...he loves Stephanie. Sort of. Not really. Don’t think he’s capable of genuine unconditional selfless compassion, affection, or love, in general.  But I like how – in a way – he’s right when he points out the similarities between him and Steph – they’re perpetual fuck ups. The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

I seriously doubt Arthur has ever once done anything out of genuine altruism though. However, his statement of “Regret runs in our blood too” is a reoccurring theme. Not just for him and indeed Steph, but Crystal too considering she spends most of the Batgirl run trying to make up for being a completely absent mother from Steph’s childhood.

I’d argue the thesis of Steph’s time as Batgirl is: Why does Stephanie Brown dress up? Her motivations changed over the years. Firstly, it was to spite her father. Secondly, it was to give her an excuse to see Robin. Thirdly, it was her trying to prove her worth to the bat family, specifically Batman, after half a lifetime of being pushed down. However, increasingly, nearly right from the get-go, it’s referenced that Steph dresses up because she wants to help. Simple as that. It’s why she returns from Africa; it’s why she picks up Cass’s costume etc. etc. Steph as Batgirl is the first time her motivation is explicitly not driven by her dad, Tim, or Bruce. She just wants to help and make up for past mistakes. So, even though maybe there are circumstantial similarities with her father, as Steph comes to understand that she has nothing but pure altruism and desire to make up for past mistakes as her motivation, Arthur never learns. So, he’ll always lose. The veiled threat to Crystal gives Steph enough motivation to stop her father, then you get the hallucinations. Which she fights her way out of. Which she manages pretty much solo.

Although, one thing because I have a TimSteph brain.

“Super young women in various states of undress” aka the girls who had helped Stephanie just one issue prior who – ho ho – are in various states of undress.

Plus, how most of the girls have been on the Titans with Tim thus have solid friendships with him (Miss Martian literally popping in the Red Robin title to help Tim out) plus the running gag of Tim as Red Robin is apparently indistinguishable from Doctor Midnight.

Ergo it is much more likely that Miss Martian, Supergirl and Bombshell would have gone straight to Tim for help. Stargirl probably would have gone to the actual Doctor Midnight as JSA buds but… c’mon. It’s certainly in character for Tim to do such a thing, playing off an act of goodwill with a snarky tease and call back and remember how most of Red Robin and Batgirl are mirror/sister series... Like… it was Tim. Tim helped her fight it off. He helped Crystal save her daughter.

Anyway, onto the actual hallucinations.

We know that Miller said that they were essentially story arcs he had drafted that got cut off by the New 52. You also have the people present who mattered most in this story of Steph’s. This is why, you will notice, neither Batman nor Red Robin feature. The whole point of Steph’s time as Batgirl was directing her motivations away from those two blokes.

Instead, you have her relationship with Babs, Wendy, and Damian – i.e., mentor, peer, and whatever Damian is; not quite a student but she does help him develop emotionally blah blah. You have the fairy-tale story with those aforementioned super young women in various states of undress. Stephanie is probably meant to be Cinderella looking at that broom, which is fitting! You also have the Blackhawks Batgirl time travel story which would have featured Cass. I understand Miller got pretty much vetoed from doing anything with Cass, so her importance to Steph got very much underplayed in the whole run, which I do think is its biggest weakness.

And yes, I think the lantern colours fit nicely. Though maybe less so for Damian. He is angry but he’s not…driven by it. Honestly, I think he falls more into Green, but they needed they three differing colours so Red it is for the angry ten-year-old. Babs is Green as hell, she does not know when to quit, and with Stephanie being so explicitly tied to hope this whole series, Blue is the only thematically appropriate option for her.

The final three hallucinations are less fantastical and instead very much the genuine future she sees for herself. Stephanie pulled herself up from the ground with nothing. Tim and Bruce helped and hindered before it all came crashing down, so instead Leslie and Babs ended up (somewhat unwillingly initially) helping Steph pick up the pieces. So, you have Stephanie – who has been told she is genetically pre-disposed to being a loser fuck-up who does more harm than good – graduating from university. You have her fighting crime. You give her a nice apartment with a spoiled happy child who plays with Batman plushies and giant dinosaurs. You have her inherit the most beloved Superhero Title going (because no-one is more loved, trusted and admired within the superhero community than Nightwing). You have her be a mentor, proof that her hope approach works, and has had a positive feedback loop.

Stephanie pulls herself out of the dreams because, as she says, the future is neat and all, but the present is where she wants to be. It’s hers, and Steph doesn’t get to have much for herself. And with that, she had moved past the regret of her mistakes in War Games, she had moved past her regrets with Tim and Bruce, and the future is a big whatever. It’ll come when it comes, and she’ll rise to the challenge regardless.

The last three sentences in the book do kind of choke me up a lot. And it’s why Steph matters to a lot of comic book fans:

That’s my girl – Pollyanna to the very end.

It’s only the end if you want it to be.

Here we go.

Stephanie is the epitome of her statement: The only variable you can control is yourself. If you make yourself a better person, if you care for yourself and look after yourself and be a good person… things will fall into place. Let the world be horrible, mean, selfish or cruel. So long as you are not those things, it will work out in the end for you. And I think that’s an important lesson.

Me at Steph’s Batgirl run:

[ririsasy]

After rewatching Where your eyes linger for countless time I realized something, there is no one, not a single person mention a "gay" word in this series.

Not that it's bad word but they didn't make it such a big issue like "whoaaa tae joo is gay because he likes man" or something like that. Even when Kim Pilhyeon saw them "kissing" his immediate reaction was to prevent the girl from seeing them kiss, one way or another he protect them.

Also Even though we all hate Tae joo's dad because he is the "villain" in this story, he didn't say condescending word to express his dislike about his son liking a man.

I think we can even say that his disapproval is more about Kang gook status, he is just a bodyguard in the family, and Tae joo is the heir of successful big A company, they are not a match, of course his father wants someone with high social status to be with son too right?

Like the story about this two boys falling in love, they treat it like a usual romance story, they didn't make it such a big deal it is between the same gender. That's what make this story feels so different even though the story we have seen it so many times. I guess the credits has to go to good director who has good conscience about what kind of story they want to tell.

When Tae Joo confessed about his feeling toward Gook to his father he said like "I like him only", he didn't sprinkle it or make it a big deal that he is a man, it's just not allowed for him to like Gook, they freaking live in the same house, of course his father won't allow them to stay together anymore if he knew they like each other romantically, both of them are highschool students, too young for that kind of thing in his father opinion.

Also There is no confusion or denial moment from both of them, Tae joo and Kang gook, when they realize about liking each other just because they are both men, like "this can't be, I can't like Tae joo, he is a man like me" or blah blah.

Or when Hyemi asked her mother about her suspicion regarding Kang gook and Tae joo feeling toward each other. She asked her mom with this question "it's possible to be jealous toward your friend, right?", she also didn't make it a problem that Tae joo and Kang gook are both men and shouldn't feel jealous in that kind of way of her present in their friendship.

This series treats feeling like feeling, it should cross all the gender or status boundaries, when you feel something to someone, especially romantic feeling, you didn't question why you fall for this person because they are the same gender with you, but the question should be "can I make this person happy, will this person happy if they were with me" ...and that's ..what love supposed to mean.

I don't know if all this rambling make sense 🤣 but I just can't stop thinking about this series. So excuse me for this incoherent thought.

[bessmarvins]

So, you guys got a preview of this thanks to the challenge that @knockoutqueenoftheunderworld tagged me in. It’s been sitting in my drafts for months almost finished and I think it’s rambly and just ajgwjaoig i’ve been debating on whether or not to even post it but I don’t want to put anymore energy into it. I just want to throw it out into the void lol so here ya are: another chapter of my lil ficlet series (first installment here) ok thank you goodnight happy belated birthday @ladylindaaa 

Nancy rubbed her eye, leaning over her case notes on the floor of Frank and Joe’s room in the sleeping car. She twirled a thin lock of her red hair around a long finger and titled her head, staring intently at the letter Lori had given her. She had to squint in the dim light of the bedside lamp, her slightly unkempt brows furrowed. She trailed her pencil across the paper, following every line, silently mouthing the letter word for word. 

Frank noticed all of these things. He noticed everything about her. He noticed the pea-sized beauty mark next to her eye, he noticed the chipped maroon polish on her nails, he noticed the way her breath sped up and slowed back down again as she tried to decode the letter. He was trying so hard to stop noticing. He couldn’t help it. Something kept his eyes glued on her, from the moment they met at Union Station.

The truth was he had noticed her long before that. He had always had a crush on Nancy, not that he’d admit it to anyone. Especially not Joe, who caught on fast and teased him mercilessly for it. He was always eager to answer her calls, excited to talk through her cases with her. He loved hearing the awe in her voice when she figured out a clue and the gratefulness in it when he and Joe (somehow) managed to be of help to her. 

She was so god damn smart. Frank could hear the gears turning in her mind over the phone. He was convinced she didn’t need him and Joe--she could have called anyone to use as a sounding board for her ideas and figured it out on her own. She usually chose to ask their opinions anyway, and Frank was more than happy to oblige.

But since they met for this case, it’s begun to feel less like just a crush. He and Nancy (and, admittedly, his brother) had formed a sort of bond. They quickly found their rhythm together working the case and Frank thoroughly enjoyed their dynamic. It was exhilarating: their first case with Nancy Drew on an old train chugging along through the Colorado desert.

Maybe being in such a dreamy atmosphere was clouding his mind. The romantic backstory of Jake and Camille certainly didn’t help. But the more time he spent exploring and investigating with Nancy, the more he gravitated toward her.

He was sure she had noticed him staring by now. He could usually keep his cool over the phone, but being here, in person with her, able to see her bright blue eyes, touch her soft arms and smell her perfume when they hugged at the train station...it was wearing him down.

They hadn’t seen each other in two years, their last encounter at Joe’s high school graduation party. He recalled their earlier meetings, in the midst of puberty, when his crush had first formed and he stumbled over his words in front of her. He felt like that 15 year old kid again, stuttering and mumbling around her, begging Joe not to embarrass them. Not much had changed.

In reality, Joe’s antics on this trip were probably charming her more than anything, and Frank was just making things awkward. 

Luckily, Nancy was just as excited to work with him-them-as he was to work with her. She was beaming when they met at the train station early that morning. She ran to them with every clue she found on the train, eager to put all of their brains together.

If Frank wasn’t so insecure he’d notice Nancy’s eyes lingering on him more than Joe when the three of them huddled in the dining car. He’d interpret her compliments on his abilities and intelligence as more than just friendly observations of a fellow detective. He’d realize she admired him in more ways than one. Nancy was usually the oblivious one, but for a semi-professional detective, he was being incredibly obtuse.

Then again, she wasn’t exactly being as upfront as she would be about anything else. Nancy was nothing if not blunt, but she couldn’t very well treat Frank like a suspect. She had no issue confronting everyone on this train, but confronting her feelings? That sounded like a nightmare.

She was also all too aware of the ethical reasons she couldn’t, or shouldn’t, tell Frank how she felt. While they weren’t exactly talking at the moment, she knew Ned was waiting for her at home. She knew he’d eventually apologize. She wasn’t even sure what he’d be apologizing for. She was always the one who needed to say sorry.

She hadn’t seen the boy in two years--so what if her crush had resurfaced? Was it worth risking a solid relationship for a fleeting desire? She had something real, something tangible. Frank Hardy was always just a guilty pleasure of her imagination; a fantasy her mind wandered to when she wanted to get out of her own head, out of River Heights.

But wasn’t that the life she craved anyway?

Joe had fallen asleep already, his steady, quiet snoring trailing down from the top bunk. Nancy and Frank sat close on the floor below and kept quiet. Frank was leaning against the bottom bunk he had claimed, Nancy sitting cross-legged a few inches in front of him. The dim light of the lamp on the bedside table shone warm and yellow on Nancy’s skin.

About an hour had gone by without either of them uttering a word, sitting in comfortable silence together. Admittedly, Frank had spent the better half of that hour looking at or thinking about Nancy rather than the case.

“Can you make heads or tails of this?” she asked him, waving Jake’s letter at him. “I thought I cracked part of it but I might just be sleep-deprived.”

Frank yawned and took the paper from her. He stared at the old parchment paper, the fading black script swimming in front of him. Calico, Silverado, blah blah blah...He wiped his hand over his face and handed the letter back.

“Nance, it’s been a long day. I think it’s best to just look at it with a fresh set of eyes in the morning.”

Nancy looked disappointed as she took the letter back. She made no moves to get up, just resumed flipping through her notebook. As tired as Frank was, he didn’t want her to leave, so he pretended to be looking at his own notes and tried not to fall asleep. He rested his head against the bed behind him. His eyes fluttering shut. He’d just rest his eyes for a moment...then he could spend more time with Nancy...

He jolted awake when he heard himself snore. He jerked his head up and looked at Nancy, who wasn’t looking at him, but still immersed in her notes. Thank God, he thought.

He wiped the corner of his mouth surreptitiously, in case, god forbid, he had drooled during his nap. He couldn’t have been out for long, she probably didn’t even notice...

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said, smiling slyly as she kept her head down. Frank blushed, admittedly enjoying the sound of that coming out of her mouth.

“Sorry, it’s been a long day, I guess it just..caught up to me. I-”

“No, I’m sorry, I’m probably keeping you awake.”

“Oh, no, I mean, obviously I can fall asleep sitting straight up with you here, so...” He smiled, embarrassed.

“I just...feel a little weird in my room. It’s where Camille used to sleep, apparently, and before you say it,” Nancy looked at him pointedly. He smirked. “No, I don’t believe in ghosts now. But I think John Grey has been pulling tricks to make people think Camille’s spirit’s roaming around here, and I don’t want to be a target.”

“If you say so, Drew. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Joe you’ve suddenly become a believer.”

She shot him another look.

“I do say so. After what Lori pulled on us, who knows what else we’re in for.”

“You have a point,” he conceded.

“I always do.” Nancy smiled playfully, and Frank’s stomach knotted. He was in awe of the way they fell back into this groove every time they worked on a case together. The light teasing, bouncing ideas off one another.

“Plus, Tino said something about ‘going over our notes together,’ which I think means he just wants to see what I’ve found out so far, and I don’t want to be there if or when he knocks on my door. I’d rather just avoid him.”

“What a sleazebag.” Frank scoffed. “He’s been so condescending this whole trip, and he wants to take credit for your work. Let me know if he says anything else. I know Joe is just looking for an excuse to deck him.”

Nancy shook her head. “No no no, Frank, really, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

Frank backtracked. “I know! I was mostly kidding. I-I wasn’t saying you couldn’t, or-”

“Besides, I really don’t want you to get kicked off of this trip.” She put her hand on his tense thigh.

Frank softened immediately. “You’re right. I wouldn’t actually hit the guy, you know. Joe might, though.” Nancy breathed out a laugh.

He kept talking to keep his mind off of her hand on his leg. “You can stay in here as long as you want. I mean...I’ll even sleep on the floor, if you want to take my bunk.”

“No, I couldn’t do that to you!”

“Nancy, please. As you can see, I’ll fall asleep anywhere.”

She stayed silent, reluctant to accept his offer, but inwardly groaning at the thought of sleeping on the floor of a train car.

“I’m not taking no for an answer.”

She smiled graciously.

She scooted over to lean against the bed next to him, her arm dangerously close to his.

“You’re the best.”

Frank cracked a toothy smile and he felt a flutter in his stomach.

“I’m so glad you invited me. I was really excited to hear from you,” Nancy gushed, but instantly cringed, wondering if she was coming on too strong.

“I’m glad you decided to come,” Frank’s deep voice and sincere tone sent a shiver down Nancy’s spine.

Their hands, propping them both up on the floor, were nearly touching. Nancy shifted hers so her pinky grazed his thumb.

“You know, I missed you guys, a lot.”

Frank turned to her when she said this to find her facing him, her nose just a few inches from his, her ice blue eyes gazing at him. He had never seen that look on her face before, and he was trying to pin down what it was when she whispered, “Especially you.”

Nancy’s lips curved slightly. She hoped he finally caught on. A girl could only drop so many hints.

Frank thought he might be imagining the signs due to fatigue, but in that moment he didn’t even care if he made a fool of himself. His eyes flitted across her face before determinedly, but slowly, leaning into her, giving her plenty of time to back away. She didn’t.

He hovered a centimetre from her, the end of his nose touching hers. They sat suspended in time, delaying the inevitable. Their eyelids slipped lower. Frank held himself there, thinking that as long as this was all that happened, they weren’t breaking any rules. There was nothing wrong with this. Nancy might have had the same thought. He dared to move a little closer.

Nancy closed her eyes but did not move, allowing Frank to capture her lips in his. Her lips tingled, the sensation traveling down her body, between her legs, down to her toes. Her breath caught.

Once she finally regained control of her body, her lips began to move in sync with his. 

Frank’s hand moved up to the side of her face, his fingers tickling her ear and just below her jaw, and another jolt ran through her. She placed a light hand on his chest, noticing his firm muscles below his soft t-shirt.

As the hand on her cheek slipped into her hair, Frank moved his other hand to her waist and leaned further into her. Her skin seared where he touched her. She broke away for a millisecond to breathe a shaky breath before reconnecting with him, leaning further into him, applying more pressure.

Her tongue had just found its way into his mouth when a particularly loud snore from Joe made them jump apart. Nancy’s eyes widened and pointed upwards where the younger Hardy boy rustled.

Frank held his breath until his brother stopped stirring, watching Nancy’s face shift from startled to embarrassed. She blushed, but had a mischievous twinkle in her eye. They caught eyes and awkwardly chuckled.

He felt like he was in high school again, almost caught by his parents on the couch in the basement with a girl. That was usually Joe, though.

Nancy bit her lip and looked at the ground. Frank cleared his throat to break the silence. The moment was gone.

“I think it might be time to get ready for bed,” Frank whispered, gesturing to his brother. 

Nancy laughed silently and pushed herself up off the floor, brushing off her soft white shorts. 

Frank grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and headed out of the room without a word. Nancy blew out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and sat down on the bed, leaning against the wall and trying one last time to decipher the letter. Anything to avoid thinking about what just happened.

When Frank walked back in a few moments later, Nancy forced her eyes to stay focused on the paper in front of her, but she could feel her face heating up.

Frank shuffled awkwardly, unsure what to do next. Were they supposed to talk about it? Pretend it never happened?

He was just about to ask Nancy to hand him a pillow from the bed so he could make up his sleeping arrangement on the floor when she perked up.

“Wait, I think I figured something out. Look at this,” she beckoned to Frank and he sat next to her on the bed, looking over her shoulder at the letter. 

“The oven in the dining car has some symbols on it that I saw on the scale that opened the door to Jake’s projector room. Do you think that’s what he means by a warm place?”

“It definitely could be. Either way, it sounds like the oven is significant.”

She turned over her shoulder and their eyes met. Again, Frank lost all rational thought and fought sleep away, forcing his eyes open as he grabbed his notebook again and leaned into Nancy to continue looking over the letter.

The two of them pored over the notes again in silence, this time on the small twin bed. Frank was suddenly wide awake, alert and aware of every sensation. His temperature rose every time she shifted and their arms touched, but she was clearly unruffled by the whole event. Leave it to Nancy to act like nothing had happened five minutes after the fact.

Eventually, Nancy’s eyes began to droop and her head lolled to the side, hovering above Frank’s shoulder. He shifted so her face met his arm and she could rest on him comfortably. She jumped awake at the contact.

“Ugh, now I’m falling asleep.” She smiled sheepishly at him. He chuckled.

“It’s okay, we can just go to bed and take another look in the morning. It’s late.”

Frank moved to slide off the bed when Nancy timidly grabbed his wrist.

“You don’t...have to sleep on the floor, Frank. I-I mean, it’s so uncomfortable, I don’t want you to be in pain tomorrow.”

Was she implying they could share this small bunk bed? After what had just happened? His stomach was twisting--he wanted desperately to lie down next to her, both for the comfort of an actual bed and the contact it would allow. But that would make things even murkier.

She had a boyfriend. His brother was in the room, just a few feet above them.

Frank turned to her and wished he hadn’t, because it crushed any resolve he had left in him. Her bright blue eyes were glossy with fatigue, and something else. Something he couldn’t say no to.

“Are you sure? It’s really no problem...” he said, noncommittally.

She nodded, pulling the blankets down. Swallowing hard, Frank leaned over to turn the dim lamp off and lay on his back next to her, being careful to keep his body as far from hers as possible. Although in this twin bed, even that meant he could feel the static in the space between their arms.

Nancy yawned and turned her head to the side, gazing at the outline of Frank’s profile in the dark. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch his face, to trace his hard jawline speckled with stubble. She closed her eyes and tried to just enjoy the weight of his body next to hers. In an instant, she slipped into slumber.

Despite his racing mind and pounding heart, it didn’t take long for Frank to fall asleep either.

Not much later, Frank was awoken by a sudden pressure on his chest. He opened his eyes to a mass of red tresses just under his chin, shining in the moonlight spilling through the room’s small window.

He sighed as he realized his arm had instinctively wrapped around Nancy when she sidled up next to him while they slept, her leg draped over his and her dainty hand gently lain on his collarbone. His heart sped up to the point where he was afraid it would wake her.

Slowly and carefully, Frank shimmied them both deeper under the covers and tried to slide them closer to the wall in an attempt to obscure their sleeping position should Joe wake up.

He told himself he didn’t want to remove Nancy from his chest because he didn’t want to wake her. Any other reasons, he shoved deep down. He closed his eyes tight, willing the guilt away and trying his best to ignore the warm, glowing feeling radiating from his entire body.

After another hour or so, Frank was again awoken, this time by Joe climbing down from the top bunk. Panicked, Frank turned swiftly onto his side, facing the wall, forcing Nancy onto hers and shielding her from sight. She stirred in her sleep, her hand mindlessly rubbing up and down Frank’s abdomen. 

Christ. This isn’t helping.

She didn’t wake, even when the door slammed shut behind Joe as he went, presumably, to the bathroom. By the time he came back to the room, Frank’s and Nancy’s legs had tangled further together and Nancy’s hand had slithered up onto Frank’s face, her thumb grazing his cheekbone.

She really moves a lot in her sleep. Frank’s half-conscious mind wandered. She’s probably a blanket hog, and rubs her cold feet on whoever she shares a bed with...Frank could get used to it.

Frank held his breath until he heard his brother lay back down above them, hoping he hadn’t seen the extra mass beneath his blanket. He really didn’t feel like answering Joe’s questions, or being the target of his poorly-veiled jabs in front of Nancy and everyone else for the rest of the train ride.

We’re not doing anything wrong. She needed a place to sleep. Cuddling up next to a warm body is a reflex, it just happens. We weren’t even conscious. The excuses rolled through his head on a conveyor belt. He tried not to think of whom Nancy usually cuddled with, hogged blankets from and bothered with her cold feet. He again fell into a comfortable sleep.

Frank would have been annoyed at being woken up for a third time that night, had it been anyone else. When he opened his eyes, Nancy was crawling over him, her long legs stretching carefully to avoid stepping on him. She gracefully slid onto the floor and adjusted her shorts.

A quick glance at the clock on the wall told Frank it was 6 AM--there was no way Joe was up yet. Nancy tiptoed toward the door and slowly slid it open. When she turned around to close it she locked eyes with Frank, realizing he was awake.

He felt embarrassed that he was caught watching her, but she grinned at him in a way he hadn’t seen before, like there was a secret between them. He realized the look in her eyes was the one he’d seen last night. Her gaze lingered on him a moment as he rubbed the sleep from his eye and smiled back. She slid the door shut and Frank dropped his head back onto the pillow, still feeling her warmth on the mattress next to him.

Nancy strolled back to her own room in the quiet of the morning, soft blue light flooding the train car. Too disoriented to recognize any potential consequences, she couldn’t stop smiling.

[eeemarvel]

A rant for Hermione Granger

Alright. I know I’m a grown ass adult and the road I'm about to take you down has been travelled a thousand times over, but I have some things to say about Hermione Jean Granger and her lovely best friends. I’ll say that the passion I have for this subject was reignited when I reread the series (for the upteenth time) a few months ago. As I was reading, I began climbing a hill, and now that I’m on the top of this hill, I have decided that this is where I will die. 

Hill: It made absolutely zero sense that Harry and Ron were Hermione’s best friends and she deserved far better. 

I’m about to take you down a long, rambling, ranting, tea-induced journey, so buckle up. 

Now, I am by no means saying that it made no sense that the trio were friends, because I’m a firm believer that people can have, relate to, and cherish all kinds of friends. But best friends??? Best friends are a bit different than “just friends” in my opinion. Best friends don’t just love and cherish you. They support your passions and never belittle them. They have many common interests with you and love spending time alone with you. They speak up for you when someone is disrespecting you/crossing a boundary, even if the person disrespecting you is a mutual friend. Harry and Ron constantly fell short on all accounts. 

So obviously Harry and Ron care about Hermione. In the very first book, they risked their lives to make sure that a troll didn’t kill her in the bathrooms, which solidified their friendship. To me, the thing that kept them together through the years was pretty much plot armor. Besides that, I’d say it was their love of mysteries, figuring things out, getting to the bottom of things gone wrong at Hogwarts (more specifically, things gone wrong with Harry which is a friendship red flag, imo. If your friendship is held together by the events of one person’s life, that’s unhealthy. Yeah, he had a lot goin on and he was the boy who lived blah blah blah, but tell me about 3 times out of the whole series when Harry went out of his way to help Hermione with a problem that wasn’t related to him. We could make a flimsy case in which he does this for Ron, but the case is still flimsy.). Hermione usually fought against shenanigans but always ended up coming along for the adventure. She was just as much of a troublemaker as Ron and Harry. I don’t think she’d find too many people at Hogwarts besides Harry and Ron who were willing to illegally enter the restricted section with her to look at Tomes Moste Nasty (she did that alone, but I’m sure they’d be down to come with if she asked). So they do have a connection. I just think that it wasn’t a best friend connection. 

Best friends support your passions and never belittle them. Y’all. I don’t care how silly the S.P.E.W. name was. I don’t care that house elves loved servitude. S.P.E.W. was for a good cause. Hermione’s heart was in the right place. It was definitely weird that wizards talked down on house elves and casually treated them like slaves. Hermione wanted to change that. She was clearly extremely passionate about it. And Harry and Ron never. Once. Supported her. They only joined so that they didn’t have to listen to her anymore. That’s not real support. They never even tried to have a respectful and open minded discussion about it because I do actually think that Hermione didn’t fully understand the relationship between house elves and wizards. I think the elves liked service. But cruelty should not be something that they accept from the people they serve. If Ron, who knew more about the wizarding world than his other friends, explained the relationship in a respectful way to Hermione instead of trying to make her feel like an idiot, it’s possible that she could’ve changed her organization’s goal. It was also kind of upsetting that they couldn’t have enough empathy to understand why this issue might be so important to her. I think that it’s possible that as a muggle-born, she felt sympathy for the elves who were being treated the way some wizards would want to treat muggle-born witches and wizards.They couldn’t think outside of themselves for a minute to consider why she was so passionate about this cause. 

Side bar: It’s no secret that Hermione Granger is smart as a whip. Brightest witch of her age, she is. That’s why it baffled me that she took such an annoying and aggressive approach to recruiting S.P.E.W. members. From the way her efforts were written, it seemed as if she only shook a collection plate in people’s faces and shamed them for being ok with the treatment of house elves. She never explained how the money would be used. She never explained a plan of action. She didn’t explain the goals of her organization or how people could help. Nothing. That’s very un-Hermioneish if you ask me. This is the same girl who organized Dumbledore’s Army. She would’ve known exactly how to run that organization and exactly what their aims were. She would be able to explain it in a way that is appealing to people, in a way that makes people just as passionate about it as she is. Instead, she was written like an unholy hybrid of the one of the Salvation Army Santas and one of those “YOU’RE GOING TO HELL!” protestors that stand outside of universities. That’s not Granger. She was only written that way to make Ron and Harry look better, to give them an excuse for not being a good friend. And even then, it’s a piss poor excuse. You should be able to give your best friend constructive criticism. “You know, Hermione, you can catch more flies with honey. Why don’t you try…. Instead of….” Rational, fact minded Hermione would’ve welcomed this. Instead, Ron mocked her and the organization and Harry stayed quiet while he did it. They sucked for doing that. Fight me about it. 

It didn’t sit right with me how much they ignored her whenever she talked about S.P.E.W. How openly exasperated they got with her. She rarely asked them for much. On the other hand, she was always checking their homework (I have my suspicions that she sometimes did it for them???? Ron made it seem that way. I could be remembering it wrong), always helping them with schemes, always coming to their rescue, and they couldn’t just. Listen to her. Mind you, her concern is that the elves are being subjected to slavery. Slavery is a pretty big deal. Even if that wasn’t exactly the case with the house elves, it wasn’t far off, and it was a cause worth being upset about, worth fighting for, especially since in the muggle world, slavery is a huge ass YIKES. They made her feel like her feelings weren’t at all justified. If my best friend made me feel like I was stupid for taking up a social justice cause and was constantly upset whenever I brought it up in conversation, she wouldn’t be my best friend anymore. Because that would tell me I couldn’t trust her with things that are close to my heart. It would tell me that there’s a possibility that she would belittle me for something I feel passionate about which is a bad, bad feeling. She’d most likely still be my friend… but not my best friend. 

Best friends share common interests. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all like… magic???? Yep. That checks out. But Ron and Harry’s thing was quidditch. They related on another level too. They had the same sense of humor, they complained about the same things, and just got along pretty easily. They more or less had the same attitude towards school and reacted to things almost the same way. They don’t have much in common with Hermione though. They rarely joke about things together as a group without one person feeling weird/left out/exasperated. That aside, Hermione was passionate about knowledge. She loved school. She loved books. She loved intricate puzzles like arithmancy and runes. Those are very specific interests that I don’t doubt she would want to talk about. She was positively bursting at the seams in every class to answer a question because she loved the topic so much. And because, let’s face it, our girl’s competitive. She loved being smart. She loved being the smartest. That aside, her desire to be the smartest wasn’t the only reason why she always raised her hand in class. If that was the case, she could take literally any other class at Hogwarts, but she chose arithmancy and runes specifically. She likes the material. She could never talk about school with Harry and Ron without them complaining about how difficult and tedious their homework was. Again, that’s not their fault, because school isn’t fun for everyone. But school was a huge part of Hermione’s heart and she was written as a girl who’s best friends were two boys who didn’t really like working all that much. These are the people she hung out with the most yet the thing she loved the most was information and puzzles and knowledge and figuring things out and she COULD NEVER GEEK OUT ABOUT IT WITH THEM! 

There’s a whoooooooooooole house dedicated to clever, precocious minds, but J.K. Rowling wants me to believe that Hermione didn’t have a single close Ravenclaw friend. Not a single Ravenclaw classmate that shared her passions, someone she could run to the lawn to talk in depth about their morning lecture with, to have debates with, to compare notes with, to joke about the way the textbook was written. Not a single one????? For someone as bright and perceptive as her, that must’ve been suffocating. Bright people like to talk to other bright people. They like competing with them. They like hearing their ideas. Even though Hermione was the brightest witch of her age, she wasn’t the only bright witch at Hogwarts. I’m sure there were plenty of students who would love to hang out with her and vise versa, but instead she’s written to always be around Harry and Ron who rarely ever talk about their classes unless it was to complain about them. Even Harry, who’s favorite subject was DADA, rarely geeked out about the subject the way she obviously does about so many other things. It’s the same way the other way around. Imagine if Harry was just as bright as Hermione and they always had in depth discussions about their classes and related to each other on a pretty deep level because of that shared passion. And then there was Ron. Ron who wasn’t that good at school and didn’t really care. Ron who loved quidditch and food but rarely got to talk about it with those two. Don’t you think he’d find someone to talk to about quidditch with??? 

When Ron was mad at Harry, he started hanging out with Dean and Seamus. When Harry was feeling weird and alone after Voldemort came back, he had Luna Lovegood. When Hermione was feeling alienated by her two best friends she…….. Went to the library???? And even when it seemed like she was making a new friend, Krum, the book made that new relationship about Ron and Ron’s feelings. Ron attacked her for getting close to Krum, saying that she was betraying Harry, and he only did that because he was feeling insecure. How. Is. That. Fair. People? I’m sure she liked Krum well enough to continue to be friends with him, and even if she didn’t, she didn’t deserve to be shamed for simply talking to him. Christ. The boy wrote long, heart-felt letters to her, and even if he wasn’t as bright as her, I’m sure the academic in her loved the gesture of putting feelings to paper, of choosing his thoughts carefully to craft them into a message that was special for her. Even if their relationship didn’t turn into something romantic, they STILL COULD’VE BEEN GOOD GOOD FRIENDS. It’s possible Krum had a passion for literature, something I’m sure Hermione could appreciate. I may be reaching, but that’s still one thing they have in common that she doesn’t have with Harry and Ron. It’s also important to note that Krum, though a bit aloof and moody around other people, opened up to people he became close with, like Hermione. He talked very enthusiastically with Hermione, and Hermione even described him as being kind. Thing is, what is it that Krum would talk about enthusiastically with Hermione? Quidditch? Most certainly not. Hermione couldn’t care less about the sport. Harry’s problems? I doubt Hermione is the type of friend to talk about her friend’s sensitive information to other people. So it must be something that Hermione likes or is equally enthusiastic about. Liiiiiike books and learning!! She had something in common with Krum and Ron made her feel bad about that. I think she turned down Krum’s invitation to visit him during the summer partly because she didn’t feel the same way about him and didn’t want to lead him on, and partly because her “best” friends didn’t really support her. When Harry kissed Cho and was confused about Cho crying during the kiss, who did he tell? Ron and Hermione. Hermione even gave him sound insight into what Cho was feeling so Harry would feel less lost. Hermione would never be able to do that with Krum. If she felt confused about something Krum did, who would she be able to tell about that with Ron being King DickaZoid about her having a relationship and Harry being a weird mute? She could scarcely tell them about her relationship with Krum because those boys were so damn WEIRD about it. Ron immediately got pissy when he suspected that Krum and Hermione were dating, and that sucks. She can’t talk to her best friend about her first real relationship. And because Ron was pissy, Harry shut down and was suddenly unable to talk to Hermione because he felt he would be betraying Ron. It’s not Hermione’s fault that Ron never confessed his feelings to her. ALSO, how tf is she supposed to know that he has a crush on her when his default is to be confused by her very existence? He was constantly baffled by the priorities she had. Constantly baffled by her love for school. Constantly baffled by the expectations she had for Harry and Ron, and that was at his best. Because when he wasn’t just downright confused by the things she did, he was belittling her. That’s why whenever he paid her a genuine compliment, usually for things she did for his sake, it was a huge deal. We were supposed to think that they had a thing going on just because Ron complimented her but. No. You should just compliment your friends when they do good things. Hype your friends up. Respect them on the regular. Instead, the norm was that it was rare for Hermione to openly explore a part of her life without specifically Ron taking issue with it and Harry feebly cosigning Ron’s bullshit. I digress, but the point was that Krum shared more common interests with Hermione than Harry and Ron did and Krum was just a minor character. 

This is fine for normal friends. Normal friends don’t usually have a lot of common interests. But it’s rare for best friends. If Harry and Ron were just good friends that Hermione hung out with from time to time, things would be different. It would make sense that they didn’t like the same things. It would make sense if they only hung out because they just kind of got along and shared a traumatic experience that one time in their first year. It would make sense if she often got lunch with her “troll-in-the-dungeon” buddies in Hogsmeade to catch up and joke about their professors. It would make sense if after that lunch, Hermione went back to her best friend, probably some really smart Ravenclaw chick, and told her about her lunch with her troll buddies before diving into a long drawn out rant about a contradictory paragraph in her Ancient Runes textbook. Ravenclaw chick would be like “MERLIN’S BEARD, I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE!” and she’d rant too, and then they’d laugh, and talk about some other stuff, like their families or maybe Ravenclaw chick’s equivalent of “troll-in-the-dungeon” buddies. That would be Hermione’s best friend. She wouldn’t feel the need to keep her relationship with Krum a secret from this Ravenclaw chick. She’d be able to talk openly about her insecurities or her troubles to her best friend. For example, in the seventh book, Hermione had a pretty nasty bout of jealousy when Harry started doing better than her in potions. She really wanted Harry to come clean and get rid of the Prince’s textbook. I imagined that she was struggling with jealousy and guilt for feeling jealous and lashing out at her friend like that. She would want to talk to someone about it. Just imagine her trying to open up to Ron about that. “You’ve been a right foul, git, I’ll tell you that.” That’s about the picture of it, I’d say. A true best friend would hear her out, and offer sound, non judgemental advice so that Hermione could not only improve herself but also feel good about coming to that friend about negative feelings in the future. That friend could’ve been hypothetical super smart Ravenclaw chick who totally thought S.P.E.W. was a great idea. 

And, I wouldn't be mad if over the course of the series, Hermione grew closer to Ron and Harry because she was concerned about them and wanted to help. But they still wouldn’t be her best friends. They would be friends that she cared about. And she would be helping them because they were fighting for a worthwhile cause, the defeat of Voldemort. It’s possible that this hypothetical Ravenclaw chick wouldn’t join them in the 7th book on their extended camping trip, but that’s to be expected. Hermione is a Gryffindor after all, and not many people would be willing to make the sacrifice that she made to be with Harry and Ron (she wiped  her parents’ memories and set them up in Australia for Merlin’s sake. That’s bold. And scary.)

Best friends love spending time with you. I think Ron and Harry enjoyed Hermione’s company. The reason why I think that is because they are written to enjoy her company. But it is never actually explained why they enjoy her company. It’s just plot armor that’s backing this up. I think they were impressed by her intellect and drive, but those traits aren’t things that they all had in common. If you ask me, if these 3 existed outside of the context of the books, I’d say that the boys tolerated Hermione’s company because it’s not like they all shared common interests, the same humor, etc. She was also pretty useful to them for school. So yikes. Nonetheless, within the context of the books, they enjoyed Hermione. But Hermione was never really enough for them alone. You never really got scenes where Ron and Hermione met up with Harry after just hanging out and they were smiling and laughing together. The same is true with Harry and Hermione. When Harry and Ron were fighting and not talking to each other, Harry was always in a visibly bad mood, and lamented the fact that he had to hang out in the library with Hermione. He was always more emotionally affected by Ron’s absence in his life than he was when Hermione was absent in his life the year before when Hermione reported his new broomstick to Professor McGonagall (again, a friend trying to keep her friend alive, but whatever. Harry and Ron were constantly gas lighting Hermione which makes me feel like Hermione needed to have someone in her life to vent to about it. Someone who would understand her intentions or give her some kind of advice.) Harry and Hermione, who I feel like were more similar than Hermione and Ron, rarely spent time together and thoroughly enjoyed it, content with each other’s company and not yearning for someone else to be there. That’s not what it feels like to hang out with a best friend. 

Later on in the series, we get the sense that Hermione and Ginny started to hang out, but it was implied that they only got close because Ginny had a crush on Harry and Hermione was giving her advice. I think this is kind of sad because Ginny is clearly bright. She’s fierce too. She’s not as book wormy as Hermione, and she’s kind of pranky like the twins, but she could’ve been best friend material for Hermione. But they were only just kind of friends because they spent summers together, they’re both girls, and Ginny has a crush on Hermione’s best friend. Hermione needs a healthy friendship that doesn’t revolve around the boys or her gender. 

A best friend speaks up for you if someone is mistreating you, even if that someone is a mutual friend. Now, we all remember how Ron immediately whipped out his wand to curse Malfoy into next week for calling Hermione a mudblood. That plan backfired, but I’m glad he did it, and I’m glad he stopped puking up slugs. But, friends shouldn’t just defend you when you’re subjected to extreme offenses like slurs. Friends should defend you when you’re being mistreated or belittled. Ron often mistreated Hermione by mocking her, and Harry never once corrected Ron. He never once sat Ron down and was like “Hey, mate… I think you should lay off Hermione. You’re being kind of mean…” From the fourth book onwards, it was like Harry took a sacred vow of silence whenever Ron and Hermione argued, whenever Ron took it too far. And you know what? I kind of get it. 

These are Harry’s first real friends and the only relationships he had in his life before Hogwarts were toxic and abusive. Even Ms. Figg made sure that he didn’t enjoy his visits with her because she thought that the Dursleys wouldn’t allow him to go back to her if they thought he enjoyed it. An ass excuse, if you ask me, but again. Whatever. Harry likely has zero idea how to handle conflict healthily. He definitely has 0 idea how to be a good friend. What bothered me is that he never tried to defend Hermione. Even if he blustered through it or felt awkward, he could’ve made it known that he didn’t approve of Ron’s treatment of Hermione. But he didn’t. And even though trauma likely made it difficult for Harry to resolve conflict, he handled it pretty gracefully in other situations. Snape, Malfoy, Dumbledore, Umbridge, literally anyone he had an issue with, he found a way to make his feelings known (See “There’s no need to call me sir, Professor,” and “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe Lord Voldemort,” for more details). But when it came to speaking up on Hermione’s behalf? Crickets. If someone made fun of my best friend’s ideas, was constantly gaslighting them, or making them feel weird for their interests, I don’t care who they are, I would tell them to pump the brakes and apologize. 

I actually think the trio could’ve treated each other much better, but Hermione constantly got the short end of the friendship stick. I think this is because their “best” friend relationship was forced and was therefore constantly under strain. They had this idea that they were “best” friends so obviously, they had to be interested in the same things (the boys’ sheer disbelief and outrage at Hermione’s indifference to quidditch and Hermione occasionally outwardly expressing interest in a school thing only to be met with blank, unenthusiastic stares). But they just weren’t best friends. I think they’re arguments are a result of them trying to force each other back into an ideal, a picture of what they thought their friendship to be, when they probably should’ve just accepted the fact that they were way too different to trust each other with things that went beyond the superficial stuff. I think you can be the polar opposite of your best friend, but you still have to love spending time with them, respect them, defend them when they’re being mistreated, and support their interests. Harry and Ron didn’t really do that. 

They knew Hermione liked to stay in the library. They could’ve gone to find her to make sure she remembered to eat for the day because they know how easily she gets lost in books. I’m sure Hermione had a favorite book. Even if the boys couldn’t stomach reading the whole thing, they could’ve humored her and let her rant about it. They could’ve opened it to a random page, saw a person’s name, and say “This bloke. This bloke here. I don’t like him. Thoughts?” Even if they’re just being playful, they’re showing an interest in things she lovessssssss. They knew that Pansy Parkinson was constantly bullying her. Why didn’t we get scenes where they bashed Pansy and hyped Hermione up in turn? Hermione reassured Harry in the fourth year, telling him he was attractive and it was a no-brainer that girls fancied him. She also reassured Harry that it was likely his kissing skills were fine. She broke her own morals so that Ron could get on the quidditch team. What did Harry and Ron do to make sure that Hermione felt loved and validated????? I think that teenage boys often show affection and appreciation differently from teenage girls, but they still show affection and appreciation. They are still more than capable of it. Harry and Ron just didn’t do it unless Hermione had done something for them first. 

Hermione deserved better. She deserved a real best friend. Harry and Ron were best friends. They were the peanut to the other’s jelly, the Merlin to their beard, the dung to their bomb. I still think that their friendship could’ve been improved, but hey. They were still undeniably best friends. Those 2 didn’t have that same connection with Hermione. I just think that considering everything Hermione has been through in the course of the series, she deserves someone that she could relate to without fear of being attacked or belittled. 

Now please. Lay me to rest on this hill. I would like my tombstone to read, “Honestly, don’t you two read?”  

[hookedontaronfics]

Honky Dancer series - Chapter 2

Chapter title: Contracts and options Read the previous installment here: Chapter 1 Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Slight cursing A/N: I hope you love the drama in this chapter as much as I loved writing it! More mature themes will develop, so be warned! Enjoy! X

My alarm went off far too early because I had spent most of the night tossing and turning with both nerves and excitement over my audition. I felt I had done well and made an impression; I knew I had worked my butt off, not only during the audition itself but also just to get there in the first place. I was tired enough to stop at Notes Coffee Roasters and pick up an iced latte, figuring I could spare the calories, on my way to my 6 a.m. aerobics class. I truly loved teaching but if there was one class I would gladly give up it would be aerobics; who in their right mind wanted to get up before the sun did just to sweat for 45 minutes? I was never awake enough for the cheeriness of my suburban football-mom students.

I’m pretty sure I sipped half of my latte down in one pull and groaned against the subsequent brain freeze as I opened up the studio. It took everything in me to summon up the energy to get through aerobics without shouting my instructions in a bitchy manner, and I was positively exhausted by the time I made it through conditioning, beginning basics, intermediate amateur, and one of my personal favorites, toddler tap. I mean, there was very little actual tapping going on, but the students always made up for it in the cuteness factor.

I eagerly checked my phone when I went on break but I hadn’t received the call I’d been hoping for. Mads and I quickly walked to our favorite lunch hideout, a place called Hemsley + Hemsley inside the Selfridges. I ordered my go-to cold-pressed green juice and we decided to share the orange-blossom-infused yogurt and honey-filled chestnut crepe.

“Any news?” Madison asked me as we tucked into our food and juices.

“Not yet. It’s killing me,” I admitted.

“So tell me, how did it go? You’ve got to fill me in!” she grinned. I told her all about the process and how I’d made some friends and hoped we all got in together before she asked me point blank if I’d run into anyone famous while at Paramount. My face flushed but before I could tell her about Taron my phone rang.

“It’s them!” I hissed at Mads in excitement, before picking up the call. “Hello?” I said, probably sounding way too eager.

“Hello love,” an incredibly familiar voice said on the other end, and I fairly choked on my pressed juice.

“Hi, hey,” I said, trying to recover. “Um … What do I owe this pleasure?” I asked awkwardly, and Taron just chuckled on the other end.

“I wanted to personally deliver the news myself that you’ve been selected as one of our dancers. So congratulations, love. I hope you’re very pleased, as I am,” he said with a grin in his voice.

Holy shit, I mouthed to Mads as she squealed in her seat, unaware of who exactly I was talking to.

“I ...yes, of course I’m incredibly excited,” I laughed after I managed to recover my composure. “I just wouldn’t have expected Paramount to make you their errand boy,” I teased. Mads gave me a funny look, desperate to know what was happening.

This earned a hearty laugh from Taron on the other end. “I asked to deliver the news personally,” he grinned. “You are, after all, my favorite dancer.”

“That’s entirely too kind of you to say,” I said, taken aback.

“Well I did sit through 40 solos just for the privilege to watch you dance so I feel I have a right to make that assessment,” he said lightly.

“Oh my God, I don’t deserve for you to think that,” I replied.

“Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?” he said gently before clearing his throat. “So you can stop by the studios at your convenience today to fill out the contract and hopefully that will be amenable.”

“Good, of course,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll be there as soon as I’m done with work.”

“Perfect. See you then,” he said nonchalantly. I wasn’t sure whether he actually meant that or it was just a standard thing to have said, but we took our good-byes and I sat there in dumbfounded silence until Mads couldn’t take it anymore.

“What is all of this?” she asked, making a circular motion in the air around my face, which was probably as red as a robin’s breast.

“I was getting to that part,” I laughed, hiding my face behind my hands for a second. “I ran into the film’s lead, Taron, when I was at auditions yesterday. Well, he actually opened a door into me, and I fell and it was spectacularly embarrassing,” I admitted with a laugh. “But somehow that possessed him to watch us all dance… Out of pity? I don’t know,” I shrugged as the incredulous look just grew on Madison’s face the more I rambled. “So anyway, he just called me to tell me I was cast as a dancer so... I’m in!” I squealed at that.

“Taron didn’t watch your ass dance out of sympathy, are you crazy?” Madison giggled. “He’s probably fancying you,” she said with a smirk, and I shook my head.

“No no no, we’re not even going there. Me, dancer. Him, actor. That’s like different species and different species don’t mix,” I laughed, as Madison threw an orange slice at me.

“You are so daft!” she laughed. “How can you not see when a boy likes you? You with your gorgeous strawberry-blonde locks and blue eyes and freckles. It’s disgusting, really. I just look like the boring brown blah ugly duckling next to you,” she said a bit wistfully, chin in her hand.

“Oh come on, Mads, you’re gorgeous. And it’s not like I exactly know how to pick ’em, considering Zayn and all,” I sighed, referring to my ex.

“Yes well, the world isn’t full of Zayns. He’s extra special,” she said, stabbing a bit of crepe with extra gusto and poking it in her mouth.

“If by extra special you mean extra wanker, then yeah,” I said, shaking my head as we both just giggled.

“Well I’m sure Taron’s not like that at all,” she said. “It’s not like I haven’t watched every YouTube interview out there,” she said with a touch of sarcasm. “He seems incredibly sweet to people,” she pointed out. Leave it to my best friend to be obsessed with him; I had tried my hardest to convince her to audition with me but she said her skills outside of ballet were rusty at best and she would be just be embarrassing herself. I appreciated her teasing me about it though; I couldn’t deny Taron was handsome, though I didn’t exactly download every picture to my phone.

“He’s very nice, I can already tell that. And maybe he even thinks I’m pretty, sure. But we’re only co-cast members, you know, and I’ll just be in the background. He’s really the star. Besides, he doesn’t even know me. Not like we had a chat or anything. He had to call me by my bib number first, after all,” I laughed.

“Just never say never, Juliette. Life can surprise you,” Madison grinned at me. But I had already had plenty of surprises in my life, and I was ready to be done with that. We finished our lunch and made it back for afternoon classes; thankfully I only had two more to get through before I could head over to Paramount. I was absolutely knackered by the time I packed up my dance bag and pulled sweats on over my leotard and tights. I waved to Madison as I passed her classroom and she gave me a thumbs up before I headed to the tube station, responding to a few texts from my ex and feeling once again annoyed at his lack of responsibility. You see, I had to stay in contact with him because we both had one shared thing in common: A certain precocious 7-year-old daughter named Clara.

<You promised me you’d be able to watch her while I’m in rehearsals. I really need you to step up. This isn’t negotiable and mummy can’t watch her all the time either.> I texted back, sighing slightly to myself.

I knew relying on Zayn had been a bad idea to begin with, as he’d never proven himself mature enough to handle being a father in any regular capacity. He’d do well for a couple months and then fall off the map again, drinking and losing his job and couch-surfing with friends. But for Clara to not know her father had made me feel like a terrible person, so every time he came around promising that he’d cleaned up I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I hardly knew what it was to not be disappointed in a man any more.

<I know, and I will. It’s just for tonight, Letty, we have these tickets…>

<Yeah and those excuses don’t cut it, Zayn. It’s always excuses. Your daughter is more important than some show. She needs a father so I can stop explaining at school why this completely bright student has behavioral issues. But you would know that if you were involved.> I rubbed my temple, annoyed and too exhausted to have this fight all over again.

<You’re absolutely right, actually. I’ll cancel the plans and try to sell the tickets. Sorry to bother you.> He texted back, and I groaned slightly. Of course now I felt like the asshole, and it wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy time with my daughter.

<I appreciate the offer, I do. But you should go. Just drop Clara off with my mum and I’ll get her on my way home. But I need you to pick her up first thing in the morning for school and don’t be late this time.>

<You’re an absolute saint, Letty> He sent back, making me cringe at the pet name he had given me that now left a bad taste in my mouth. I sighed and texted my mum a head’s up about the change in plans, grateful for everything she had done for me and Clara over the years. I don’t know what I would have done without her help, to be sure. Being a single mum had proven incredibly challenging and I wasn’t sure how I would have been able to afford child care and rent on my meager paychecks. I probably would have had to give up dance but my mum knew how important that dream had always been for me. I had more stability now then when I was performing, but that didn’t mean the challenge to give Clara a stable life didn’t remain.

I was lost in thought by the time I arrived at Paramount, but I tried to put all of that aside so I could focus on the task at hand. I’d also received a steady stream of excited texts from Leah, Pietre, Dennis and Markus; all five of us had made it onto the cast and it felt like a bit of a celebration. I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going but helpful signs had been posted about on the walls, so I followed the giant black arrows through the maze of halls until I arrived at a lobby, where a couple other dancers were sat waiting.

“Juliette!” someone called my name. I spied Markus against the wall, waving at me and I happily jogged over to sit next to him as he moved his bag out of the way. “I saved you a seat,” he said, flashing me a grin of exceptionally perfect, white teeth. While we chatted about our mutual love of ballet and our tragic falls from grace [Markus, too, had experienced a career-ending injury] as principals, I noticed up-close that his eyes were a lovely shade of pale grey. I’d never quite seen eyes like that before, and I couldn’t help feeling a bit mesmerized by both his gaze and his instant charm. It was nice to feel like someone was on my level and could understand what I’d fought through to get here. Other dancers came and went, and when Markus was finally called back to the office I texted Madison furiously about him, unashamedly giggly about it.

<Does someone have a bit of a crush or what?> Madison teased me lightly.

<You don’t get it, he’s rather dishy and so charming and suave. And he gets me.> I wrote back.

<Yeah and what about Taron?> Mads asked.

<What about him? He’s nice to me, nothing more.>

<Yeah sure. But don’t give me any more of that “He’s an actor and would NEVER notice a dancer like me” bullshit because I’m not buying it.>

<Besides, if Taron’s here I haven’t seen him. And what am I supposed to do anyway, hang them up next to each other side-by-side and compare their traits?>

<Just don’t be blind to what could be good for you, that’s all.>

<AND Clara. Don’t forget, this is a packaged deal.> I wrote back, smiling as my mum sent me a sweet Snapchat of my daughter playing piano. She finished the song and, beaming into the camera, smiled, waved and announced that she was going to be as good as Elton some day, which made me laugh softly. I’m glad my mum and I had passed down our impeccable taste in music already to my daughter; it was so much better than the trash punk her father listened to.

I happened to look up just then and saw Taron leaning into the lobby from the doorway, clearly searching for someone, and his face brightened as soon as he spotted me. He strode in and despite the obvious gasps of recognition from the other dancers there, he beelined straight for me. I was both flattered and embarrassed about that fact, all too aware of the jealous expressions tossed my way.

“You made it!” Taron grinned at me, as if he’d been worried I would have decided against this whole thing.

“Of course,” I laughed, adjusting in my seat at the same time he surprised me with a hug so I nearly knocked my head into his teeth. “Shit, sorry,” I apologized but he must have found my awkwardness amusing because he laughed and shrugged it off.

“Continuing that klutzy streak I see?” he teased, raising a characteristic eyebrow at me.

“Always,” I said with a laugh. “Truly don’t know how I stay employed at the dance studio, to be honest,” I continued the rolling joke.

“Oh, do you teach?” he asked, earnestly curious in me.

“Yeah, mostly young kids,” I smiled at that. “I really do love it, getting to inspire the next generation of dancers.”

“I can see that,” he studied me for a moment, and I had to look away from the intensity of his green eyes. “You always seem so passionate about it, I can’t imagine that not translating to every area of your life.”

I was about to respond but just then Markus returned and somehow seemed to have a double-take when he noticed Taron sitting in his vacated seat next to me. He came over to me and, right in front of Taron, told me he looked forward to dancing alongside me and then point-blank asked me if I wanted to get drinks with him some time. I felt absolutely flustered at his offer and managed to stammer out a ‘yes, sure, love to’ before Markus leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

“Cheerio,” he smiled to me, flicking the tip of my nose lightly before sweeping out of the room.

“Well that was a production, wasn’t it,” Taron remarked, the buzz of something low in his voice.

“Mmm, dancers are dramatic,” I tried to laugh, but Taron was no longer smiling.

“Tell me about it, love, I’m an actor. I get being dramatic but that was something else,” he replied, giving me a slight chill down my back, but I had absolutely no time to react because my name was called then.

“I should … get in there,” I said softly, as Taron rearranged his expression and put a smile on his face. If I hadn’t been so focused on him I might have lost the nuance of that.

“Of course you should,” he replied with a nod. I got up and walked into the office, Taron’s steely gaze following after me. I did my best to focus on the contract terms and everything that would be required of me as I signed form after nondisclosure form, but something had just happened back there that I was having trouble deciphering. I figured I should probably run it by Mads because she seemed to have a knack for understanding people. I was still distracted by the time I finished the paperwork and was handed a stack of information and rehearsal schedules, and so when I exited the lobby and turned the corner I ran straight into Taron, managing to drop my stack of papers all over the hallway floor.

“Jesus Churchill Jones, what are you doing here?” I asked in surprise, as Taron crouched down and picked up my papers for me.

“I thought I’d walk you out, if that was alright?” he asked. “I know you were weirded out earlier and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine, if a little miffed,” I shrugged as we started walking back through the labyrinth of halls toward the exit, Taron still carrying my papers. I realized that I was just inherently trusting Taron to lead the way, figuring he already knew the place like the back of his hand.

“It just seemed a bit possessive to me, the way that dancer acted toward you,” Taron tried to explain.

“Possessive? How?” I laughed lightly at that. “Markus and I got on quite well before you showed up.”

“But that’s exactly it. He shouldn’t have felt threatened by me at all. I’ve just seen it before,” he said, his eyes trained on the floor. But then he reached out for my hand and stopped me, turning me to face him. “I’m saying this completely as a friend, just be careful with him.” There was something so deeply vulnerable in the way that Taron was looking at me that I felt I had to take what he said seriously. I couldn’t detect any ulterior motives there, so I filed the warning away in my mind and half-wondered if Taron could sense my weakness for men who seemed so polished on the outside but could secretly be snakes.

“I’ll be careful,” I said, as much to make Taron feel better as to remind myself. We continued walking, as I asked how things were going with him. He filled me in on everything he had to accomplish as filming neared, learning the piano, working new arrangements of the music, and all of the pre-production work that had to happen. It really kind of amazed me how dedicated he was to the project, and even more so how highly he spoke of Elton himself.

“Well, I should stop boring you,” Taron chuckled as we arrived at the exit doors, but I shook my head.

“You’re absolutely not a bore. I’m sure I could listen to you talk about it for hours on end,” I smiled genuinely at that.

“If we both weren’t so busy, maybe I’d ask a certain dancer to have dinner with me some time so then I could truly bore her for hours,” he said with a wink, his demeanor completely changed from earlier. He was at once adorably flirtatious with me, and I couldn’t help but swoon slightly.

“Maybe she might just say she’d love to,” I grinned back. He fished a pen out of his pocket and scrawled his phone number across the top of the stack of papers before handing them to me.

“We’ll plan it… eventually,” he grinned before giving me the “call me” gesture and making me laugh.

I took my leave, Taron holding the door for me as the perfect gentleman he was and waving to me long after I’d hurried down the street. I felt my heart warring inside of me a bit, and I had no idea what I was supposed to think. With these thoughts burning into my soul, I took the train across London to pick up my sweet daughter. At least I still had that to look forward to, I thought as I made sure to transfer Taron’s number into my phone before I forgot or misplaced it.

<Hey, it’s me, your favorite dancer!> I sent a quick text, just so he had my number as well and definitely not expecting the immediate reply I got back.

<And saved. If you send me a pic I’ll add it to your profile.> My stomach suddenly lit on fire with nerves at that, for no bloody reason at all. I had all of my contacts with photos, so it only made sense that Taron might as well. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the request but the idea of sending him my face made me feel some kind of way. I swiped through my pictures, most of them stupid selfies, but I finally decided on the professional headshot I’d had taken for the audition. I felt it showed the best of me, and I looked half-decent enough, dare I say pretty. The photographer had at least had the sense to focus on one of my best features; my blue eyes stood out like sapphires.

Taron immediately sent me back one of his own, a decidedly more personal shot but he looked gorgeous none-the-less. I attached the photo to his profile and then stashed my phone for a moment, needing to focus on my daughter as I hopped off the train at my stop and dashed for my mum’s house. I let myself in and found them in the kitchen, my daughter drawing a picture that she immediately abandoned as soon as she saw me.

“Mummy’s here!” she squealed, running into my waiting arms and hugging me tightly. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, my darling,” I said, running my fingers through her tangled bright red curls; where she got that color was beyond me, but I loved it. “How was school?” I asked.

“A bit of a bore, really. Teacher says I’m too smart for my class,” she added importantly.

“Hmm, well, hopefully you didn’t sass her too much,” I sighed, giving my mum a knowing glance.

“I didn’t!” she said, putting her little hands on her hips.

“I’ll have to have a talk with your school when I can fit it in about moving you a grade, but otherwise I guess you’ll just have to pretend to not be bored, Clara-bean,” I said with a laugh. “Don’t want all the other students to think you’re a know-it-all.”

“They already think that, mum,” she said dramatically, to which my mum shook her head.

“Perhaps you ought to put her in the performing arts academy instead,” she pointed out as I bit my thumb in thought.

“You’ve got a fair point, mum,” I smiled. “Thanks for watching her, again. I’d say I owe you but at this point the debt is quite unpayable.”

“Oh hush now, Juliette. I will never turn down time with my grand,” she said, giving Clara a hug and helping her clean up her mess on the kitchen table while I took a chance to use the toilet.

<Mads… I’ve got to phone you as soon as I get Clara down to sleep tonight!> I fired off a quick text.

<Oohh did something happen?> she asked immediately.

<You could say that. Things have got a fair bit confusing.> She sent back a couple emojis and question marks and I sighed. <It’s too long to type out. Just have your phone on you.>

<Forget phoning me, I’ll bring the wine. 8:30 okay?>

<God I love you. See you then.> I finished my business in the toilet and made sure my daughter had all of her things before we took the tube back to our home. I made dinner, we took Troy out for his evening walk, and soon I was getting my daughter bathed and brushed and ready for bed. I read her a small story and tucked her in, kissing her forehead sweetly as she hugged her plushie unicorn to her. I couldn’t help wishing that I wasn’t the only one bidding her sweet dreams and turning off the light; what I wouldn’t give to have a man in the picture who wanted to be there for us both. But that felt as much a fantasy as the unicorns I’d just finished reading about.

I checked my phone and had a couple missed texts from Markus, just sweet messages making sure I’d made it in for the night. I texted back in affirmation and wondered if Taron had totally missed the mark; I hadn’t gotten any weird vibe from Markus until I ended up between them both.

I had just gotten the dishes cleaned up and put away when Mads rang. I popped open the door and let her in; she was carrying three bottles of wine, which made me laugh. There was no way we were going to drink that much; we both had early classes to teach in the morning. Still, I retrieved a bottle opener and glasses and we popped each of them open, having a sip and agreeing that the moscato was the best option.

“So tell me!” she said, sitting cross-legged on the couch and sipping her wine as I did my best to retell the whole scenario, her eyes growing wide and then wider after I told her I now had Taron’s number too.

“They had a mental cockfight over you,” Madison giggled over her glass of wine.

“What? You’re insane, no. No… right?” I said. “No…that’s crazy,” I added for good measure. 

“To be fair, it sounds like this Markus started it,” she smirked. “But Taron totally dished.”

“Ugh, English please,” I sighed.

“They both like you and tried to outdo each other,” she rolled her eyes. “I can practically see the puffed-up chests now.”

“Stop,” I laughed, throwing a cork at her and making her squeal. “That is not how it went down. Taron was trying to warn me, as a friend.”

“As a future person who wants to get in your pants,” she smirked, waggling her eyebrows at me.

“Mads, you’re making me mental!” I said, tossing the rest of my wine back and nearly choking as the liquor hit my throat. “It wasn’t like that with him. You didn’t see the way he was trying to look out for me.”

“In all seriousness, babes, I think you should really consider your options here.”

“My options. You say that like I have them, like I could just choose,” I said with a huff.

“Well they both asked you out, didn’t they?” she grinned, not remotely fazed by my tone. “See who impresses you more. That’s what I would do.”

“Date two guys at once?” I laughed, shaking my head. “Isn’t that a bit scandalous? I don’t wish to shame my mum.”

“It’s only dating if you call it that,” she smirked lightly.

“Oh Mads, you’re devious, aren’t you,” I said, shaking my head.

“Just live a little, Juliette. You’ve been banging on about how awful Zayn is for 6 years now. You might as well try and move on.” I couldn’t deny that she had a point there. Maybe the distraction would be a good thing.

“And what about Clara?” I asked softly. “I have to consider her.”

“She will be fine. Kids are resilient and adaptable, far more than we are. And as far as Markus or Taron are concerned, cross that bridge when it comes, you know? Just start from the beginning. Go to drinks, go to dinner. Have some fun. The good Queen herself knows you need it.”

We talked and drank some more, far more than we should have, and Madison ended up crashing on my couch because she was too wine-sick to get herself home. But I truly didn’t mind; it wasn’t our first and wouldn’t be our last late-night chat, and Clara considered her an auntie. I gently pulled a blanket around her snoozing form and made sure she was comfortable before shutting the lights off, a small headache beginning to throb. I got myself ready and changed into jammies before crawling in under the covers, bumping my phone slightly and causing the screen to illuminate. I had a text from Taron waiting, his face smiling out at me. I quickly opened it, my heart beating a tiny bit faster as I tried to focus my drunken, exhausted eyes enough to read the text.

<Get ready to dance, love. It’s going to be a wild ride. Sweet dreams.>

“Holy. Shit,” I breathed out loud, closing my eyes and totally unable to process what he meant. But oh, was I thrilled. A part of me felt more alive and excited than I had in probably ten years, when boys still meant adventure and romance and sex and love and sunsets on the beach and drinking too much and making out in the backseat and all of those magical things I felt I had given up on. To feel that breathless anticipation again made my world shift on its axis. The problem, of course, was that I wasn’t exactly sure who had caused that shift.

Find out who Juliette might choose in Chapter 3 Here!

[buckskinblues]

This isn’t writing advice per se (more like formatting), just things that I take for granted knowing that when I come across I realize that not everyone does, in fact, know about when it comes to writing. You don’t have to pay attention to it or follow it. Just take it as me rambling pointlessly if you want (or even me being a big old meanie). I’m focusing on fanfic because if you’re serious about working on OG writing I...really hope you already know these things and I mention things specific to using tags and all that (I also focus on Ao3 rather than any other site since it’s the best and also the only site I use for posting anything).

First off, if you don’t use paragraph breaks. Fuck you.

Stop using “~” at the end of sentences to denote someone saying something in a “singsong” way or whatever. Stop using it in general. It looks bad and it breaks immersion because it’s not any sort of capitalization or formatting that is usually used so it can be jarring and also just looks stupid as fuck. The dialogue itself, the dialogue tags, and the context are all you need to carry the mood and convey feeling. Anything else is you trying way too hard. (The “~” is a tilde and is used in some other languages over letters to change the pronunciation and it’s also used in math/engineering to mean something about numbers...so basically if you’re writing in English you shouldn’t be using it because there is shit all reason to do that).

Either capitalize correctly for titles or don’t capitalize at all. Stylistic choices only work if you’re consistent about it, otherwise it looks like you don’t know what you’re doing rather than making a deliberate choice. And yes, even something as small and simple as the title can come across this way. It’s the first thing people see when they come across the story so it’s important it doesn’t look dumb as hell just to capitalize the first word and none of the others. It looks like you typed it out on your phone and auto correct got the first word but not the others. This is only for titles though, if you forego using capitalization in the body of your work just know you’ve committed a grave sin against humanity--you’re damned if you’ve done this for a chaptered work and not just a “stylistic” choice in a drabble.

Stop using...those letters that are from different alphabets and symbols you pasted from unicode or wherever else. It’s not aesthetic. Some phones and computers may not read them and they’ll just be square blocks. They’re hard to read for some people. They represent completely different sounds in the alphabets/languages they’re supposed to be used in. Just...stop doing it.

Don’t mix two different characters’ dialogue in the same paragraph. Each person gets their own paragraph. This is how people know who is talking when there are sometimes just one dialogue after the other without anything else to tell who is who, besides the fact it alternates. Paragraph breaks.

Epithets. Stop using them. Pronouns exist for a reason and context works wonders. “The blond haired agent, the doctor with glasses, the grumpy hitman...” it gets old when you use such things to refer to a character more than their names, especially when you’re using epithets in dialogue tags. And it’s especially unnecessary when they’re the only character in a scene or the only other character being referred to by another who’s speaking. (Also when you use the same epithet multiple times, all the time...I wanna die). Very low level children’s books use epithets often because children are just learning about things and have the attention span of a goldfish. But I hope you have faith your audience is above a kindergarten reading level. The only time I ever use epithets is when a character’s name isn’t revealed yet to the main POV and there really isn’t any other way to get around referring to them until it is. Though you can skip doing that if they’re literally the only other person the main POV could possibly be interacting with. And you don’t want to do this for very long because it wears out its welcome fast. It’s okay to use character’s names to refer to them...that’s why they have names.

Do not do things like “!!!!!!” or “?!?!1!!” Just one exclamation will do. You can use “?!”/”!?” but don’t like...repeat it a bunch of times. Like...I get it, they’re surprised.

Is this a chapter story or a script? Are you writing a play? If you use: Character A: Blah blah blah. Character B: Wah Wah Wah! Consider...not doing that. I mean, DO do that if you’re actually writing a script...but you have no excuse for not knowing how dialogue is actually supposed to be formatted in stories because...I mean...you have read right? It’s the same in every book and story. The bar is low here. It’s not obscure knowledge. Children’s trade books use: “Blah,” Character A says. You have no excuse for not doing the same.

Walls of tags. Ugh. Walls. Of. Tags. Again, I gotta say. Fuck you. Tags are for categorization but you still want to keep them as simple and clean as possible. I’ve legit had to scroll past a wall of tags that took up so much damn space they were all that was on the screen. Do. Not. Do. This. Everyone hates you for it.

Speaking of tags: / is for romantic and/or sexual relationships and & is for platonic friendship. Do not mix up the two. Do not use both. If it’s a slow burn from friends to lovers you still only use /. If there’s no romance at all use &. Do not put “platonic but can be read as--” no. It’s up to you, the writer, whether it’s platonic or romantic so use the tags correctly.

Request booklets uwu. I hate those. I hate them because it’s a shitload of different fandoms, a wall of tags, and (usually) little to no actual content. You’ll get one-shot collections in the fandom tag when there isn’t actually any content for that actual fandom in it. It’s Ao3, it’s an archive. If you want to take requests make a Tumblr blog. In general I’m of the belief that one-shots should be...one-shots. On their own. There are lots of reasons for this. You can add a summary for what the one-shot is about instead of just giving the audience a title and shit all else. You can put it in the proper fandom tag without pissing off people who come across the “collection” and there be nothing for their fandom actually. The only time it makes sense is if the one-shots are all happening in the same universe and to the same people and they stand alone because they’re not chronological but they’re still in the same timeline for the same people. A series is fine. But it’s essentially like someone crosstagging here on Tumblr and using as many tags as possible to get attention.

If you have a chaptered story that follows a specific plot...do not add one-shots or AUs of that story to the that story. Perhaps that may not make sense but there is nothing more infuriating than thinking the story is updated when it’s just something tacked on, a one-shot or something, that interrupts the story and pisses you off because you don’t care you want to find out what happens next. If it all happens in the same universe, put it in a series. But don’t clog up the actual story with diversions. This has happened and while I really liked the writer’s stories I was fucking pissed as all hell. When I saw an update I thought the cliffhanger would be resolved, but no, it was a one-shot...

Use an author’s note for introductions or extra information NOT the body of the work. Please and thank you. Similarly you can add a tag or edit the summary to say the story is on hiatus or will be left unfinished until further notice.

Gender-neutral smut...it doesn’t work.

It’s okay to write OOC. Just like...warn people if you KNOW it’s really OOC.

It’s okay to character bash, honestly. Just warn people you’ll be doing it and that you know it’s petty but you hate writing about them in a positive way. For the life of me writing Sakura (from Naruto) was always a pain in the ass for me, so I understand. Just be self-aware about it and warn people so that they can’t come crying about it. (The power of “well, I did warn you...” is strong).

The relationship tags are only for the MAIN relationship(s). Background ships can be put in additional tags or vaguely mentioned in the author’s note. But please don’t make people think a ship will be more prominent in a story than what it actually is.

Stop using quotes for summaries when they don’t actually tell the readers anything. Summaries are for letting people know the basics of what they’ll be reading about so they know if it interests them. A vague quote from some famous person says absolutely nothing. Quotes can be used to great effect at the beginning of chapters or the end to drive home a theme or add a nice touch but they aren’t summaries on their own.

Use whatever tropes/cliches you want. Seriously. Especially if it’s fanfic. Just do what you want as far as actual content. If you enjoy it that’s all that matters.

So essentially write about whatever you want but remember the formatting is important. Basic capitalization and grammar that isn’t immediately terrible is important. Categorizing properly is important. These are things that really aren’t all that hard, seriously. Once you learn about doing them you just...do them.

[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Chapter 12

Title: Falling for the Holidays

Pairing: Dean x Reader AU

Word Count: 1390

Summary: With October ending and the holidays underway, that only meant one thing for Dean Winchester. It meant returning to his childhood home and spending time with his family. It meant listening to his parents, especially his mom, ramble on and on about when he was going to find himself a nice girl, bring her home for the holidays, and then eventually get married and have children.  However, Dean wasn’t ready for that sort of commitment, so in order to get his family off his back, he comes up with an elaborate scheme! But like the saying goes, “sometimes lies become truths.”

Warnings: Angst, Arguing, Near Death Experience?, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Alcohol Use, blah, blah, blah, A Surprise Near the End!

A/N: This may be the shortest insert for the series, but the chapter is done and it didn’t take me an entire week, or week and a half to finish it! There’s still a lot of angst in this chapter, but I’ve added a little surprise for you guys near the end! Also, I want to apologize for the agonizingly slow burn! It wasn’t my intentions, but it somehow ended this way. Thank you all putting up with me and giving me so much support. This series is literally running on the love you all give me. It doesn’t get a lot of notes, but I don’t even care about that, because not only am I writing this for myself, I’m writing it for the few that actually read this and like it. This is series is dedicated to all of you! Thank you so much!! You guys are my fuel, my motivation, and my inspiration!! xx

Series Masterlist

Dean took hold of your hand, standing there, testing the waters. It was nice to have his hand in yours again, that it made you want to cry. You missed him so much. All you wanted was to have your best friend back, but you knew that it was impossible. You could never go back to the way things were, not when you were madly in love with him. It would hurt too much. Playing his fake girlfriend was a mistake. A mistake you were sure you’d regret for the rest of your life.

“You ready?” He asked. “Ben needs us.”

All you could do to respond was nod your head, and that was good enough for Dean. With hands firmly locked together, he pulled you through town, checking in every store, restaurant, and corner.

Meanwhile, Ketch and Lisa had found themselves paired together.

“What are you doing here?” Ketch hissed, while Lisa tried to keep up with his long strides.

“Making sure that Dean is mine,” she barked back. “He hadn’t called or texted me back ever since he’s been back here. I thought you said you had it under control?”

“I did have it under control! It takes time. Why are you women always in a rush? For god’s sake, have some dignity,” Ketch reprimanded.

“Excuse me? You men are the ones who can’t keep it in your pants!” Lisa barked back.

“Oh, that’s rich. Coming from the whore herself.” Ketch immediately knew his words would sting, but he didn’t care.

Lisa stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, appalled at what he had just said. “You took advantage of me! You took advantage of us! We were drunk!” People were staring at her with confusion, some shaking their heads at the scene she was causing.

“Darling, it was a party. I’m sure everyone was drunk, myself included. So don’t try to guilt trip me by playing the victim, especially when you were the one throwing yourself at me. You and your friend. What was her name again? Ella?”

“It’s Bela,” she reminded, venom thick in her voice. “Besides, back then I was in a really vulnerable state…” Lisa mumbled.

That night, she had overheard Dean talking on the phone with his parents. They were arguing about him not attending college and how Lisa was holding him back. That if she really loved him, she would have supported him to follow his dreams. For Lisa it was some sort of a revelation. She felt guilty and terrible for keeping him away from what he wanted to do.

After that, she sought comfort from Bela, who insisted that the best cure was a distraction. A party. Then one thing led to another and Lisa found herself intoxicated… in bed with her best friend and a random stranger. Ketch.

“Can you just stop talking and help be find the little brat?!” He snapped. Lisa flinched feeling offended.

“Don’t call him that. Ben is not a brat!”

“Whatever,” Ketch rolled his eyes, leaving her behind again.

After a while, you and Dean had to let go, finding the attachment inefficient. Why go into one store together when they could check two stores at once?

“Thank you so much,” you told the store owner after giving him your phone number in case Ben showed up in his shop. As you stepped out of the store, Dean was standing outside waiting for you.

“Anything?” Dean asked.

“No. But I left my number with the owner in case Ben shows up. A four-year old kid would definitely wonder into a toy store wouldn’t they? I know I would,” you sighed, standing beside Dean.

“Let’s just hope he does C’mon, let’s keep looking.”

As you and Dean continued your search, you noticed the tension in the air intensified. He was staring at you. There was no doubt about it.

“Stop staring,” you grumbled.

“I wasn’t,” he defended, clearing his throat, startled that you had caught him.

“Mhmm, sure. I can sense it.”

“So what, now you have Spidey senses?” He sassed.

You shot a glare at him, his eyes widening and body twitching at your sudden movement. And as if things were back to normal, you cracked. A small smiled ascended on your lips, but you quickly caught yourself when you noticed the surprised look on Dean’s face. But just as quick as your smiled came and went, so did Dean’s hope. Once you were scowling at him again, he kind of recoiled himself back in.

“Don’t try to act like things are okay, because they’re not,” you spat with irritation. But you were more annoyed with yourself rather than him. That was your ticket back to becoming friends again, but your pride got the better of you and you pushed him away… again.

“Yeah, sorry,” he muttered.

“Look can we just find—”

“Ben!” Dean shouted, cutting you off. You were going to scold him until you saw the fear in his eyes. Whipping around you saw Ben about to run into the street, where cars were zooming past. Before you could even begin to think, Dean was already dashing towards him.

Glancing at the other side of the street you saw Ketch and Lisa walking out of a store. Ben must have seen his mom and was about to run after her. A loud honk drew everyone’s attention to the street and you screamed when you saw Ben step in front of a delivery truck, your body freezing with fear as you shut your eyes tight, and clasping your hands over your ears, but even then, you could still hear Lisa’s terrified voice shouting his name. “Ben!”

There was a loud screech that made your heart clench, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. It felt as if time had stopped. You were too afraid to open your eyes, not trusting yourself to be able handle the sight you might be greeted with. Ben was just an innocent child.

“Ben, are you alright?” You heard Dean’s voice.

Your eyes shot open, seeing Dean sitting on the curb with a frightened Ben curled into his chest, and you couldn’t help yourself. You rushed over, wrapping your arms around both of them, incredibly thankful to know that they were okay.

When Lisa made it across the street, Ben was flying into her arms, his mother coddling him with relief. “Ben, what were you thinking? Why did you run off?” She cried, cradling her son. Ben didn’t reply, crying heavily into his mother’s chest. The poor guy must have been terrified.

“Dean,” you called out, elated that he was safe. When he turned to you, it was as if something had taken control of your body, and by the time you realized, your lips was locked on his, your hands on either side of his face.

After the initial shock, Dean’s hands quickly wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he returned the intimate gesture with just as much need, forgetting that they were in public.

Everyone was shocked, including yourself. When you pulled away, snapping your eyes open, Dean’s eyes were still closed with his lips slightly parted.

That was it. Your first kiss. After all those almost kisses, you went and let your irrational mind steal the moment, and as much as you wanted to forget and act like it never happened, all you could think about was how soft his lips were against yours, how his body warmth heated you up in all the right ways. If there was one word to explain it, you’d say magic.

“I—” you didn’t even know what to say. Everyone was staring and any ounce of confidence you had left went out the window. “I need to go,” you sputtered, jumping onto your feet and running through the crowd.

“Y/N!” Dean shouted, about to follow after you.

“Dean, can you bring us back?” Lisa blurted, stopping Dean in his tracks.

“It’s aright. I’ll run after her,” Ketch nodded, before taking off.

Dean turned towards Lisa slowly, his piercing green eyes staring at the woman. “Lis, we need to talk.”

Say Something Nice Here!

Falling for the Holidays Tags: @hannahindie @pinknerdpanda@winchesterprincessbride @amanda-teaches @dancingalone21 @a-winchester-fairytale @dolphincliffs @oneshoeshort @brewsthespirit-blog @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @atc74 @natasha-baggins@heavymetalhauswife @linki-locks11 @spnwoman @veevm @chameleah86 @kdcollinsauthor @claitynroberts @roonyxx @rainflowermoon @ladylaylo @closetspngirl @mirandaaustin93 @salt-n-burn-em-all @flamencodiva @fangirlanotherjust @tabbyjane @shamelesslydean@couldabeenamermaid @alexwinchester23 @algud @gracefultrenchcoat494 @prettyinplaid94 @shhhs3cret @cookiechipdough @justkending

[serenagaywaterford]

1) Hey, it's me again. The idiot rambling anon. I wasn't gonna spam you again, but then I read your responses. At this point, I'm convinced you're my alter ego, lol. My thoughts are all over the place, but I'll try to organize them. So, about Nick. I've purposely avoided talking about him so far, but why the hell not? Let me make one thing clear: I'm NOT of of those thirsty fangirls. But even if I was? I wouldn't get offended or butthurt, because another person likes different fictional

2) characters (of all things) than me. I mean, big fucking deal. Each to their own, no need for apologies. ;) (My tone is a little aggressive, I know, but I’m sick and tired of some people on social media –in and out of fandoms– acting holier-than-thou and sending hate messages and even actual death threats (!) to creators or people that express unpopular opinions*. It’s reached a point where many people feel the need to put disclaimers in their posts so as not to be attacked.)

3) Back to Nick. I liked him just fine back in early S1, when he was all mysterious and his background story was unknown to us. When we did learn about it and the fandom started acting like he’s that pure, handsome angel uwu? Nah. Obviously, he’s no Fred/Serena/Lydia,but he’s not a “cinnamon roll” either. (Imo, the only decent dude on that show is Luke.) I mean, if Nick was SO altruistic, he wouldn’t have joined this job. Or even after everything went down, he could have tried to help other

4) handmaids without expecting anything in return. But no, he only helps June and that’s because he’s in love with her. I’m not blaming him for trying to survive under such circumstances, but I won’t idolize him either. Now, in s2? I’m kinda neutral about him. I don’t hate him, but I can’t say that I’m a fan either. Not gonna lie, he bores me at times, because he’s just… there. No sparks, no fireworks. Not sure if it’s the writing that doesn’t do the actor any favors, but his acting hasn’t

5) really drawn me in yet. A counterexample to this? Aunt Lydia. Her personality is despicable 98% of the time and yet. Dowd’s captivating performance makes me want to know so much more about her character.) On the other hand, I’m glad that June has someone (besides Rita) to back her up in that hellhole. She needs comfort and allies. But the whole ‘tRu Love 5eva" fanon thing? No, thanks. Not only it doesn’t fit the tone of the series, but I also believe that sharing an intense, forbidden love/

6) during such a shitstorm is not the same thing as keeping it alive after all is said and done (post-Gilead). Maybe they’ll stay together (as long as Nick doesn’t die), maybe they’ll fall apart. I can’t really see June romantically reconnecting with Luke either. After everything she’s been through… She’s a completely different person now. Unfortunately, the same things goes for Emily and her wife. Even though I’d love to see her interact with both her wife and her child in S3.

———

My inbox is so beautiful right now! Never, ever call yourself an idiot, my friend. (If you are, then so am I!) Brain twins, you see.

(Also sorry about this being out of order lol.)

I was trying not to talk about him too cos generally I just … I prefer not to think about him much. The fangirls, just, *sigh*. I try to avoid as much as possible in this fandom, esp on tumblr. Just hang out in my quiet little, not-Serena-hating corner. I always feel a need to put disclaimers these days cos as much as I don’t really care about random hate, I’d prefer not to have to deal with dogpiles or to look at it lmao. Like people can go around just hating on any character here–especially if they’re women–but say one critical (not even hateful) thing about their male fav and things just go off. 

I’m more than aware the majority of people don’t like Serena and think she’s the worst thing ever. And fair play! (I get it… cos I’m not delusional. She’s awful.) Each to their own. I don’t go around bitching at people who say shitty things or stuff I don’t agree with, or blocking anybody who doesn’t like her. (There are a few posts I do engage with cos normally they seem like they want to go deeper in The Discourse but most Serena/Lydia/Eden/Janine/June-hate I just ignore.)

ITA. S1 was, like, okay. That’s Nick. What’s he up to? What’s his deal? (I don’t really care but I’m not opposed to him either. Just like I didn’t care about Luke’s backstory/escape.) He’s trying to be good to June and she needs that.When we did learn his backstory I was not pleased cos he seemed like a twerp but whatevs. Grey characters are grey. It wasn’t until S2 that I started to get irked by him (and the hypocrisy of his fans but that’s a whole other issue). 

I can’t agree ANY more with your assessment of Nick. Like that’s EXACTLY what I’ve been saying! Firstly, he was RIGHT THERE when the Handmaid/Ceremony thing was first suggested and was like “Oh, yeah, great idea!” to Fred. I get that perhaps he was pressured to go along to keep his job but that’s a stretch imo, and if you can give him that sort of leeway, why can’t characters like Eden, Serena, Lydia and June get the same benefit of the doubt for certain things? Why is Nick’s pressure to keep his job more important and forgivable than anybody else’s pressures? It’s like that entire scene doesn’t exist to fangirls and Nick is so precious and in love and wonderful. Then there’s the rape of June. Like I know it’s pretty controversial to look at it that way, but that first time, with Serena overseeing it like a fucking creepy pimp (YUUUUUUCCCKKKKK I HATE IT THANKS) was rape. June barely knew the guy and I’m pretty sure if she wanted to have sex with him it wouldn’t be like that! And sure, after that, it was totally consensual but that first time was not. And I’ve heard the justification and excuses of “Well, Nick didn’t have a choice either!” which I call bullshit on, cos Nick is not some powerless delivery boy. 

He’s a fucking Guardian who is tight with the top Commanders. He’s a man, if nothing else. Serena can act all high and mighty but she’s still a woman in a highly misogynistic society. I’m not convinced Fred would take his wife’s word over Nick’s tbh, especially if it was like “Dude, your crazy wife asked me to fuck the Handmaid you’re obsessed with”. If he really didn’t want to do it that badly, he could have taken that chance to report Serena. Even if Fred wanted to keep it hush hush away from other Commanders, he would have gone after Serena. Men are far more likely to turn on women than each other, esp in THT. But that’s just my take. Maybe I am missing something about Nick’s status. To me, it was like double rape. Neither of them wanted to do it, like that anyway. But Nick also did fuck all to stop it when IMO he did have some power to do something. He is not a helpless victim in that society, imo. Again, probably not a well-received opinion. 

Don’t even get me started on his “Poor me!” routine in S2 when June tells him to have sex with Eden. I’m glad she called him on that bullshit. (But again, over the fangirls heads. Enough about them!)

Basically, everything Nick has done wrong isn’t his choice; he’s just a victim. In a story about women, Nick’s victimhood at the hands of these nasty women and men is the real issue. Blah. Whatever.

I just find Nick lacks total self-awareness about being part of the shitty ass system. He kind of just floats around thinking nothing is his fault and he’s blameless for it all, and he certainly can’t seem to see it from anyone’s perspective except his own. He’s upset about Fred & June’s Jezebel trips, not for her own safety or well-being but mainly he’s jealous. Of course he’s concerned about her safety but I believe it takes a backseat to his jealousy. He just seems to never take any responsibility for anything.

And BINGO about the previous Handmaid. Nothing we’ve been shown has given any hint he cares about any other woman’s plight in Gilead other than June, and only cares about her cos he had a crush/fucked her/is in wuv wiv her. Basically, she’s HIS so suddenly he cares about her. Look how fast he dumped that Martha as soon as he got brooding about June. He’s done fuckall for anybody except himself and that alone makes me dislike him. He’s no better than Fred in that way for me. But where Fred can occasionally be an interesting villain, cos Fiennes is nasty good, I find the actor who plays Nick just… not engaging. And he’s not SUPPOSED to be a villain! He’s meant to be a good guy! It’s crazy. He’s not compelling, he’s not interesting. He’s bland. He’s not even good looking, lol. I was watching with a friend once and mention I thought Fred was way better looking than Nick and she just stared at me and said, “You shouldn’t say that. But me too.” So, count me in the camp that just does not get the appeal of the character OR the actor.

I don’t hate Nick generally. I am just totally indifferent to his existence. If he left the show tomorrow, I’d shrug and probably be a little glad I don’t have to see that bland moping anymore. If he stays, oh well. Shrug. And I just don’t want his and June’s star-crossed romance shoved down my throat. It’s so… I dunno. I’m not opposed to June finding solace and hope but making it some beautiful forbidden romance, I’m not buying it. Like you said, it’s all well and good in Gilead–but it doesn’t strike me as something that can be sustainable outside it. To borrow from you last time: It’s the Handmaid’s Tale, not The Guardian + the Handmaid’s Tale.

Okay, enough about that pipsqueak. I don’t even like talking about him, tbh. He’s not worth it when there’s so much else going on.

ITA about Luke/June too. I feel like the level of disconnection and trauma that they’ve sustained, especially June, they can try to reconnect but it’s pretty difficult and I think especially with June having a sexual/romantic relationship with Nick pulls that really tight. It’s just two different planets they live on now. I don’t doubt that she still loves Luke, but actually reforming the relationship they previously had seems like an impossible task considering everything both of them have been through. It’s sad, but … sadly true for many people. Relationships can fall apart for far less.

And on the same page about Emily/Sylvia too. She is just soooooo fucking broken, and hopeless, that if they have them just rekindle with no issues, it’ll be bad writing. (I dunno if you see spoilers but there’s one about them.) She needs therapy so much more than a cutesy feelgood storyline.

Back to Lydia: Exactly! There’s a character we know very little about and who is a horrible person, yet the performance by Dowd makes almost everyone go, “TELL ME MORE!” With Nick, it’s the opposite for me. I’m just like, “Please, less of this.”

[iblamebighit]

interrupted (m) part VII : Finale

pairing: reader x ???

genre: angst. then fluff. then smut. in. that. order.

summary: THE FINALE OF THIS BLOODY SERIES. I ACTUALLY COMPLETED A SERIES GUYS WTF. 

word count: 4k LMAO (specifics: 3,941)

warnings/triggers: the usual, swearing, smut... blah

y/n pov

You turned to look at the house, a weird feeling came over you. You hated looking at the stupid brickwork… but it was almost like something was compelling you to go in. Before you knew it, you were unbuckling your seat belt.

“Woah y/n are you going in?” Hana asked, making you halt your movements to look at her.

You couldn’t explain it. You wanted to; how suddenly you were finding it hard to breathe, how a growing anxiousness settled in your stomach, how fast your heart was beating to the point where it felt like it was about to explode right out of your chest.

You swallowed thickly, trying to contain yourself even though you wanted nothing more than to burst out of the car and sprint to the house to hush that growing gnawing nauseous feeling taking a hold of your whole body.

“Shit, y/n are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

You think you nodded back to her, or at least you tried to. Your head began to swirl. You muttered an incoherent ‘excuse me’ before scrambling for the door handle before violently throwing it open for air.

“Watch it, you whore.”

You looked up to see Minah stare you down, tutting before she continued walking. You felt the blood drain from your face. You ignored Hana’s taunts, slagging Minah off from her rolled down window. All that echoed through your mind was: Jimin’s in there. You looked up to the window of his room. two figures. It’s not Minah… It was only when one started to back away you realized who it was:  Jungkook. You stumbled forward onto the pavement, ignoring Hana’s protests.

“I’ll be back.” You shout back to her, not bothering to look back as you rush through their driveway and hastily kick aside their doormat for their spare key. You shoved the door open. You already felt sick, your rushed and sloppy movement made you want to heave. Your head spun as you trudged up the stairs, bracing the banister throughout.

You fell to your knees on the landing, your heart was beating in your ears. Your breaths became shallow, was this a panic attack?

“You want the truth kook...,” Jimin’s voice.

Your ears perked up, truth? what? what is he going on about...

“I love y/n. but, the way I look at her, i-it’s the same way she looks at you… And the only way to make her yours… was to get Minah out of the equation.” You were struggling to comprehend his words, not with the pounding that was going on inside your head. He sacrificed his own happiness so you could be with Jungkook. He did it all, he defended you, he made you feel better, he took away minah… all for you. How could he? Why would he do that? Christ sake Jimin… I don’t deserve you. It took a lot of the fading strength you had to get up off of the floor. What was wrong with you? You felt like you were swallowing air. You really should tell someone about what was going on, but you wanted to speak to him more than anything; tell him he shouldn’t have put you first, how he matters as much to you as you do him and he deserves his own happy ending just as much as you did.

“Pathetic, I know… But her happiness matters more than mine.”

And that’s when you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You don’t get to decide that.” You spit, a quiver in your voice.

“y/n… what are you doing he-”

“No.” You seethed. “You. What are you doing. How dare you put me first. How dare you let you do that for something like me. Something so problematic and fucked up. Why do you think you can go and do something like that. Do you think you’re noble, pulling that shit. Do you think you’ve helped me? Solved everything? Think again. I was left confused and a drunken fucking mess on my bedroom floor.” You ignored all the pain growing in your head. You wanted to scream at him more. “WAS I SUPPOSED TO JUST GET IT!? I REALLY LIKED YOU JIMIN. I REALLY DID-”

“y/n, slow down, you look pale, sit-” Jungkook interrupted rising off the floor to grab your wrist.

“AND YOU. HE DIDN’T HAVE TO GO THROUGH ALL OF THIS IF YOU HAD JUST LEFT MINAH ALONE. WAS I NOT GOOD ENOUGH. YOU’RE JUST LIKE HIM.” You’re head flitted between the two. You felt like you were spinning, everything was a sudden blur, their faces, the room, the lights. “YOU’RE JUST AS WORSE AS EACH OTHER!” you finally burst out with everything left in you, like a final breath before falling to the ground before them.

-

Your eyes fluttered open, a gasp escaped your mouth as you forced yourself upright. You had to shield your eyes from the bright lights around you.

“Woah, woah, slow down y/n. You just had a panic attack you don’t need another one.”

It took you a while to figure out you were in a hospital bed. Hana’s hand squeezed at yours, minding the IV needle buried in the centre of the back of your hand.

“God? Is that you?” You joked, as you over-dramatically laid back down, eyes shut and the back of your other hand on your forehead.

“Nope. Satan. Welcome to hell bitch.”

You both laughed. You loved having her a best friend. She never left your side, even through all the crap you were dealing with Jung- wait. It was then you finally remembered why you were lying in a hospital bed in the first place…

“What’s wrong?” Hana asked, noticing that a sadness weaved its way into your eyes. “You know it astounds me how quickly you can change moods… it’s like pms to the extreme…” and of course it made you laugh.

“Where’s...er...how’s Jungkook and Jimin…” you mumbled, feeling stupid and selfish to ask the damn question.

“Ask them yourselves, they’ve waited outside all night. I seriously don’t think any of the two slept with how worried they were…” She sighed, a look of concern in her eyes as she sunk into her chair, folding her arms.

“Did they not want to come in…” you mumbled, thinking about the way you acted last night. an ugly side of you came out, and it was so unfair to them… you took your frustration out on them and that was a dick move.

“No, not at all…” Hana replied, making relief wash over your body, “they thought after what you said that the two should give you some space.”

“Oh.” you sigh. hana notices the tiniest downturn of the corners of your mouth.

“Do you want to talk to them?”

were you ready to? it was when you were about to respond, your ears perked at the sound of the door handle turning, and within milliseconds you were laying back down, eyes screwed trying to look asleep whilst also trying to calm the quick beating of your heart. yep. definitely not ready…

“I hoped she’d be awake by now.”

It was Jungkook’s voice, it took all of your strength to keep your eyes shut. your heart sank at the worry, concern, and guilt laced in his voice.

“She just needs a little rest, but she’ll be okay.” Hana lied, subtly kicking the underside of your bed as if to say ‘i can’t believe you're making me lie like this’

though your eyes were shut, you could feel his look linger on your still body. you heard him sigh.

“I have to go to work, my ass of a boss won’t let me stay cause no one can cover…” the tone of his voice had your heart wrenching with guilt. “I'll come straight back as soon as I can like if I go early he might let me out early, I'm not really sure when I'll come back unless she gets discharged, then I'll meet you wherev-” he paused, realizing his rambling “just… text me… please.” he sighed; and it felt like a stab to the heart, especially hearing his steps out the door.

Your eyes opened instantly, and you put a shaky hand on your chest, feeling the racing pulse of your heart. Your eyes lock with Hana’s, an eyebrow raised and a look to say ‘really y/n.’

“You know you can’t just avoid them. this. whatever the fuck you want to call this situation.” she huffed, folding her arms tighter together.

You bite your lip, “I know. I know. It’s just embarrassing…I still can’t believe I just passed out like that.”

“it’s not,” Hana insisted “you’re just a fragile thing that just got overwhelmed.” Her hand squeezing against your arm, hoping you’d believe her. you got so caught up in her words, you didn’t realize the sound of the door handle.

“I’m going to get som- y/n you’re up. Are you feeling okay?” Jimin’s words were heavy, embarrassment and guilt made it’s way to your stomach as you caught his eyes, concern ringing clear in his irises.

“I’ll give you guys some space.” Hana awkwardly sighed before shuffling out of the room.

A forced smile came over your lips at him, as you were finally alone. You were still feeling terrible about the things you said last night. He smiles genuinely at you as he perches at the foot of your hospital bed, you shuffle up resting your back against the wall.

“I’m so sorry.” You manage to finally say. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was still smiling, you couldn’t look at him, you were still so embarrassed.

“Don’t be.” He says, reaching out his arm to tilt your head up to look at him. You lean into his palm. The comfort of the pad of his thumb skimming across your cheekbones had tears beginning to form at the corners of your eyes.

“But I am,” You sniff “All you’ve ever done was put me first and I screamed at you for it… That was such as shitty thing to do Jimin and I'm so sorry.” Tears were now free-falling, Jimin tried his best to wipe them before they began to collect and fall on your hospital gown. Even after screaming at him and not reciprocating his feelings, he still doing all of this for you. You really didn’t deserve this kind of forgiveness. You really didn’t deserve him.

“Jimin…” You looked at him, through wet lashes “I love you. You know that. But you need- you deserve someone who can give all their heart to you without any hesitation. I don’t want to hurt you… well, more than what I've already put you through-”

He stops you, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, patting your back, as you grip him tightly, trying your absolute best not to start bawling in his embrace. He lays a chaste kiss on your forehead before releasing you. His hand weaves together with yours. “I wanted this to happen, remember… You and Kook… I promise. I’m happy as long as you are.” His smile falters, but only a little. “I’m not going to lie and say that it doesn’t hurt…” he sighs. He squeezes your hand “But I'll be fine. I promise.”

You both share a real smile. The smile reaches his eyes, in a way that you could feel the genuiness flowing from his words. You were so grateful for him and loved how you can trust that what happened over the past few days, would ever change the relationship you had with him.

“What about you and kook?” You ask carefully, given what you had just talked about.

“We had all night in the hallway to talk it out…” he laughed, making you smile again.

~

Jungkook pov

The two were waiting anxiously outside. It was never easy waiting eagerly outside a hospital room. With it’s clinical white walls that made every small sound echo, the uneasy chatter of others scurrying and pacing around them, as they sat on the seats right outside of your room. Jungkook began to gnaw on his bottom lip, still feeling the tension between him and Jimin who instead was sitting and tapping his feet nervously, was leaning by the closed door, with his head turning every so often looking everywhere but at him. He stared at Jimin, swallowing before mustering up the courage to say something, they had been best friends since they can remember, so it shouldn’t be this hard…

“Did you mean it?” jungkook asked, jimin’s head instantly turned to him.

“What?”

“What you said earlier… about doing it all for y/n.”

“No.” He deadpans, turning back at looking at the wall in front of him. Jungkook’s heart drops.

“What?” He barely gets out without stuttering.

“I did it for you too” Jimin replies, with a cheeky smile.

“Hyung…” Jungkook can’t help but sighs back in relief. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry.” he laughs back.

“I still can’t believe you would do that though…” The youngest yawns.

“Me neither...” Jimin sighs, before slowly walking to where Jungkook was and joining in sitting beside him, “...I think the words you’re looking for is ‘thanks for gracefully bowing out’, so say it before I realize how much I don’t want to let y/n go.”

“Thank you for gracefully bowing out” Jungkook complies with a smile. He felt good knowing that they were back in sync with joking around with each other. They both laugh silently knowing they’re okay again. Jungkook yawns again, the tiredness and the events of tonight he had been fighting was finally catching up to him.

“Go to sleep. This is like your eighth time yawning. I’ll wake you up if anything happens to y/n.” Jimin fake scolds, offering his shoulder to him.

Jungkook takes it, resting his head on the older’s shoulder adding a final “thanks” as he get’s comfy.

“The things I do for you.” He hears Jimin sigh, making him smile as his heavy lids take over

~

“And Minah?”, you ask with another awkward smile.

“I told her everything.” He sighs, leaning back into his chair, “She took it better than I expected… nothing got broken but she did scream and curse me out in front of the whole hospital cafe…”

You couldn’t help but laugh, you could easily imagine the scene… classic Minah. He smiles at you after laughing with you too, “You’re still in my life that’s all that matters.”

You take his hand in yours, and looked him in the eyes,

“always” you whisper.

The sound of the door flying open causes you to jump, grabbing hold of Jimin’s hand tighter subconsciously.

“I managed to cancel my-” Jungkook blurts but stops in his tracks as he focuses on the scene in front of him, you follow his eyes to your’s and jimin’s hands, “am I interrupting something… sorry.” he flusteredly gets out, a frown toying with his face as he turns back.

Jimin squeezes your hand before getting up, “Nope, but you guys probably have a lot to catch up on...”

Jungkook just stands there as he watches Jimin walk out and shut the door behind him. His mouth feels dry, and his thoughts have completely left him. He feels as if he lost his shot, but it’s Jimin so he should be happy. Before you get to say anything, he comes bursts out first,

“If you chose him it’s okay like honestly, it’s up to you, I'll be okay, like you don’t have to explain anything, you guys are my best friends, and I shouldn’t be anything but supportive because you guys are happy so it’s totally fine-”

Your sudden fit of hysteria at his cute rambling he always does when he doesn’t want to cry or is flustered - stops him in his tracks.

“Oh god,” you sigh wiping away tears that left your eyes from laughing too much. “It’s me and you kook.” you finally say looking at him dead straight through your glossy eyes.

“Really?” he asks, you didn’t know whether he was surprised or excited but it made you smile. “But you and Jimin…”

“We talked and it made me realise things.” You slowly say tracing the back of Jungkook's hand, swirling your fingertips over his knuckles gently; quite like Jimin had moments ago to you.

“Like?” he asks fast. You smile at the eagerness that caught the end of your sentence.

“You sound worried.” You laugh

He smiles sheepishly but genuinely. “Should I be?”

“Not at all.” you say running a hand through his tangled hair, messed up and moulded whilst sleeping on Jimin’s shoulder “You guys talked it out too, right? at least that's what Jimin told me.”

“Yeah, but it was your call in the end.”

“I guess… but I've made it.” you smile, looking at him all openly heart eyes, like you had wanted to, for so long. He grins back and it felt so right with him, in that moment, it was ‘the end of the tunnel’ kind of moment that could only go with the darkness of the moments leading to right now.

A gentle knock sounds at the door and you hated the fact you had to break this moment.

“Come in.”

The nurse comes in, a sweet smile on her face and clipboard in hand.

“Miss y/n, how are we doing?” her soft voice asks

“Much better...,” you sigh, sneaking a peek at Jungkook, who returns a smile and squeezes your hand playfully “...thank you.”  

“Well, you’re conscious again and your heart rate is back to normal…” she laughs “so it seems like you’re ready to be discharged, but if you feel as if things get worse, don’t be afraid to pop into here or your nearest clinic, alright.” she smiles to which you nod in reply.

“Thank you so much,” you say before she leaves you to your privacy.

“Ready to leave?” Jungkook says as he stands up from his chair, holding out a hand to you.

“Let’s.” you say as you steadily got to your feet, clinging onto Jungkook’s forearm, legs trembling as you stand, like a child ice skating for the first time and clinging to the sides of the rink.

“Woah, woah, woah, are you okay?” Jungkook asks concerned, as he hurriedly supports you with his body.

“I haven’t been up on my feet for hours kook,” You laugh as your legs adjust and regain stability “I promise I'm fine.” you smile before laying a kiss on his forehead for reassurance.

He wraps his arm around you the rest of the way “Just in case” he says. As you open the door, you’re met with familiar laughter bursting from Jimin and Hana, who were too wrapped up in conversation-well, hysteria- to notice you at the doorway.

“y/n!” Hana finally let’s out, finally realising your presence and the two come to greet you. You give a funny look to Hana, but she doesn’t register, you study them both instead... do they- ? “Are you ready to go?”

You look around to the three people who matter to you most surrounding you in smiles and the biggest grin comes over your face as you nod.

You wrap yourself in Jungkook’s arm as you all walk out together, Hana by your side, and Jimin by Jungkook. You were so thankful for them. You climb into the backseat, nuzzled up in Jungkook’s warmth, his hands grazing your arm, whilst Hana and Jimin bickered over what track get’s played next or who’s the better artist. It was in that moment where life just felt good again.

-

“Who voluntarily made butter popcorn when we had sweet?” You hear Hana ask from the kitchen as she pulls it out of the microwave. You finish putting on ‘Now you see me’ on Netflix.

“Sweet popcorn? Over butter? Are you dumb?” Jimin scoffs,

“Not as dumb as your taste receptors.” Hana snaps back,

“They are totally going to bang…” Namjoon mumbles as everyone else finds places to get comfy for movie night, or tries to, over Jimin and Hana’s strange way of flirting with each other...

“Namjoon!” Seokjin scolds “We’re all thinking it, but none of us said it.”

“Me and Hoseok already place bets on when it happens” Yoongi laughs as he high fives Hobi lowkey smiling whilst bringing a big blanket to cover the four sitting on the big sofa.

“I bet 10, on tonight.” Namjoon says, handing the note to Yoongi, shoving it into his pocket with the sweepstake money.

“Christ guys…” Jin mumbles, dropping his head into his hands.

You and Jungkook laugh, and you wrap the blankets tighter around your sofa, meaning Jimin and Hana had to sit next to each other.

“Can I bet too?” Jungkook whispers in your ears and you playfully smack him in the arm.

“Come on guys, movies coming on!” You call to the two in the kitchen, coming in with two different bowls of two different popcorn flavours with them.

They both spot the only seats left, look at each other, and look away.

“Jungkook move, that’s my seat.” Hana scolds, but you see the smile faltering in her words.

“Got to be faster next time.” Jungkook teases.

“Just sit,” Jimin sighs, flopping down on the couch across from you “Don’t flatter yourself thinking I'll make a move on you, I have standards”

She surrenders, taking the space next to him, “Coming from a guy who prefers butter popcorn, I don’t think you do~” She smiles, tugging her share of the blanket.

You laugh at them before pressing play on the remote.

The movie’s only half done by the time most people had nodded off. It only took Yoongi 10 minutes before he was gone - which for Yoongi was a record -with Yoongi’s soft hair against his face, it was only natural for Hoseok to be lulled to sleep, then Joon, then Jin, Hana tried to stay up, but couldn’t fight the sleep, she had already watched this movie like three times, Jimin was about to fall asleep but was startled awake when Hana’s head fell on his shoulder, he readjusted himself to make them both more comfortable before inevitably dosing off too.

You nudged Jungkook, who was actually watching the movie, his eyes followed yours, silently laughing as he scanned through the passed out bodies around you both,

“You sleepy too?” Jungkook whispered in your ear, to which you shook your head, “We have two options.” he continues, you turn and look at him bewildered. “We could stay and finish the movie…”, you raise a brow at him, “or…” at that point you feel his hand, caress over your ribs, under your sweater. You whip the blanket off, grab his wrist and drag him to the stairs, both of you cover your mouths to conceal the laughter as you try to tiptoe out of the living room and up the stairs.

Once you two even reach the door frame to his room, you latch together, with needy kisses and hungry hands. He rids you of your sweater and you follow, throwing his shirt somewhere on the floor, he peppers kisses on your neck, and they tickle a bit causing you to laugh. All of a sudden your eyes catch to the door you left completely open.

“Kook! The door.” you laugh embarrassed, gently pushing him off you. He jogs up to the door, slowly letting it shut and twists the lock.

“No chances this time…” He says, before his lust fuelled irises focus on you again “We’re not getting interrupted.”

a/n: GUYS WE DID IT, WE FINISHED A SERIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is the first of many more to come, interrupted has been my second piece of writing on here and the fact it got so much love and support has really touched and inspired me to do more for you guys! i’ve already started on the next one hehehe and i promise the next one won’t take as long as this one did ... well at least i hope it doesn’t...

anyway again thank you so much for you patience, love and support; i love guys and as always:

stay horny, stay shook and stay safe,

-eliza

jq

[ohsostilinski-blog]

You Get Me: Part 1

Pairing: Eventually Stiles Stilinski x my character, Astrid

Authors Note: So here it is, my first imagine and my first series! I got a lot of my inspiration from The Vampire Diaries, and tons of other writers on here! So thank you :) Since it is my first piece of writing, don’t go too hard on me! Hope you guys enjoy it :)

Warnings: Umm some blood/gore I guess? Swearing once or twice.

Word Count: 1,381

All I wanted was to be normal. A normal teenage girl who goes out on dates, hangs out with friends and does normal teenage girl things. Normal. That word seemed impossible and out of reach. All because of this stupid thing I call being a vampire. Yup, I said it, a vampire. I know what you’re thinking, vampires aren’t real, blah blah blah, and there’s no way they exist. Well here I am, living proof (excuse the pun), that they do. Almost a year ago, my family and I were having our usual Saturday movie night. We made popcorn, gathered tons of candy and blankets, and watched whatever movie had recently come out. It was what I had always known. My family and I were so close and loved spending time together. They were my rocks and kept me sane. So, to think that anything would disrupt this normal, weekly activity, was unthinkable…until that one moment. It was around ten o'clock. The movie had just started getting good. suddenly from upstairs we heard my little sister screaming at the top of her lungs. For about a week she had a severe fever and wasn’t feeling up to watching a movie, so we just thought it was the fever causing her to have a bad dream. We all sprinted up the stairs and barged into her bedroom, only to find her lying in blood soaked blankets and her neck nearly off of her body. My dad jumped to her side, checking her pulse only to find nothing. I couldn’t breathe. I gasped for air, lunging into my mom’s arms while her tears fell onto my head. What was happening? Who did this? Through tears, my dad searched the house while my mom and I stayed by my little sister’s side. My older brother was always calm and collected, but he couldn’t contain himself. He punched at his walls, not even attempting to hold back his emotions. I had never seen my brother cry. Not until now. Another scream rang in my ears, but this time, it was my dad. that was when we saw it. A dark haired man plunging his teeth into my dad’s neck. Everything that was going on was too much for my anxiety to handle. I collapsed at the sight of it. The next morning I awoke in my bed with a pounding headache and an aching heart. My sister.. MY DAD. I threw the blankets off of me and ran downstairs to find my mom sitting on the couch watching TV. “What happened last night?! Was I dreaming?!” I shouted, begging for answers. “No, honey, you weren’t dreaming. Layla… she’s gone,” My mom said, tears swelling in her eyes once again. My heart dropped into my stomach. My arms and legs became floaty and I could hear the blood coursing through my veins. “Who was that man that was attacking Dad? How did this happen? Who was he? What did you do with Layla’s body? No! This can’t happen, this could not have happened. I’m dreaming. Yeah, that’s it, I’m dreaming,” I kept rambling on and on, unable to wrap my mind around the events that took place the night before. “Astrid!” yelled my mom, trying to pull me back in. “We have to talk. I know all of this can’t be processed this fast. But right now, it has to. We have to be strong for Layla. I’m going to tell you something that’s going to be hard to believe. Hell, i can’t even belie..”I cut her off, “What are you talking about? What could be more important than mourning my little sister? And where is dad?” At this point I was crying again. None of this made any sense. “Honey, a long time ago your great grandma told my mother something. Then my mother told me, and now I am going to tell you. My grandpa was walking to the mailbox one night. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights or tell my grandmother because it was one of those neighborhoods where you don’t really have to lock to doors at night. When he was out there, he was attacked, just like your father was last night. But he wasn’t just attacked by a man. He was attacked by a…” She paused mid sentence, leaving me anxious as ever.“Mom! What? What happened?” I couldn’t take this much longer. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and said the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard. “He was attacked by a vampire.” “Are you kidding me? How could you be doing this right now?! Is this is a sick joke? What did I ever do to deserve this? My little sister is dead and you think it’s funny. I can’t believe you. That was your daughter!” I yelled as i began to run for the door. I fumbled with the lock, attempting to open it while rivers were flowing down my face. My family was insane. I finally made it outside, but to my surprise, my mom was already standing out there waiting for me. “How…how d-did you do tha-at so fast?” I said choking on my words. “Astrid, I’m telling you the truth. I would never lie to you, especially not now.” She paused again. “Last night, a vampire attacked your father. He was apart of the family of vampires that took my grandpa from me. My grandma tried her whole life to find them, and when she was nearing the end, she succeeded. She was able to kill the leader of their family. Now, they’re back for revenge. I knew this would happen someday, but not this soon. I should’ve told you.”I knew she was telling me the truth. My mom was my best friend, she would never do this to me. I just didn’t understand. My whole life I thought things like this were make believe. But my sister is dead because of a vampire, and now my dad is one. It was almost as if my mom read my mind, “Sid, your father isn’t the only one that the vampire turned.” “What? Mom…no! Did he get you too? Is Gabe okay?” My emotions were all over the place. I couldn’t compose myself. One minute my life was perfect and it just got completely flipped upside down. “Gabe is fine, honey. But…yes. He got me too. Not just me, though. Astrid, he turned you too.” Her words hit me like a slap to the face.No. No way was I a vampire. Oh my god. OH MY GOD. There it was again, the floaty feeling, the sound of the blood flowing through me. I tried to speak but nothing came out. It was just air escaping me, even though I desperately needed it.From that moment on, my life changed. Everyone in my family was a vampire, except for my brother, Gabe. I still don’t know to this day how he was able to avoid getting turned, but in some ways I don’t want to know. That night was awful, and I don’t need anymore details. Since it took place almost a year ago, I have been able to hone in my abilities that I have. I can run fast, I’m super strong, but that whole “you have to drink blood to survive” thing, sucks. That was the biggest transition I’ve ever made, but I have the hang of it now. I don’t feed on humans, mostly just little animals. And I don’t really crave people anymore, which needs to stay that way. My family and I decided it would be best to move away, and attempt to escape any other mishaps. We didn’t want that vampire to ever find us again. He ruined our lives. So, we moved to a town called Beacon Hills. My mom said it was like a supernatural explosion happened here. I still don’t understand why we would come if that was the case. Although, I’ve only been here a few days, so I guess I should give it a chance. School would be starting next week, on the day of what is supposed to be my eighteenth birthday. Hopefully I could meet normal people…hopefully I could meet someone who gets me.

[life-in-a-labrynth]

Kinda drunk right now but I feel like spilling out my feelings that have built up, I mean why the hell not? I found myself in the nth moment of feeling disturbed and afraid and hugging my elbows just a minute ago. I don’t think I’ll go all into why I’m disturbed but let’s at least give an update, yeah?

Okay so this might be an interesting dynamic but in my last post I was worrying about whether this girl Laura was basic or not. Okay let’s be a little kinder and say, whether we’re compatible. So I finally went on a real goddamn date with her and guess what? she fat. That whole “average weight” thing on okcupid was a sham. She just set her profile up a couple days before she met me (purportedly) too, so okay, guess she’s a liar or in denial. And ya know, sorry to be a hardass about the weight/looks thing, but you know, it’s important to me to be physically attracted to someone, okay? And what does it say that she’s deceitful about that?

In any case, more I wanted to unpack. So now I went on a date and yeah, she fat, and I thought about how we had the phone call and after it was over I felt kinda meh, because it didn’t feel like she stimulated my brain. She talked about this and that and yeah that’s cool and all, but she just didn’t seem to be operating on a high octane teh brain galaxy bullshit that I wanted. And yeah, hate to say it, but Dawn. I remember having a convo with Dawn about Game of Thrones and Martin’s method as a writer and how a character of his had felt ambivalent and even resentful about having a son and it was a good fucking conversation. I didn’t have that with Laura.

Should have gone with my instincts and not second-guessed myself. I wanted to believe that I was just bullshitting myself and this could be something good, can’t I just accept a good thing? Maybe I’m being overly critical, like Dawn was with me.

But eh, nah, not really. Look Dan, you’ll *know* when you feel thunderstruck. Kayla had better convos with you about politics. Laura didn’t even talk about politics, just a bunch of halloween bullshit and serial killers and blah blah and I guess we had some good conversations but it just didn’t stimulate me and make me think like some of the others did.

Like for christ’s sake, look at... I can’t remember her name, but we went for a walk in Wissahickon and I felt like we had really good conversations about racism and maybe I was blowing a lot of fucking hot air about Jonathon Haidt and she probably thought I was an obnoxious, droning goober, but damn it, it felt fulfilling! That girl didn’t feel basic. Maybe I was an obnoxious, droning goober, but I had the opportunity to be, because the conversation organically went to interesting political topics, not some other bullshit about whatever Laura was talking to me about.

And so yeah, it felt pretty decent to talk to Laura for 4 hours on the phone, but it just didn’t fulfill me the way that talking with Lis did, who on our first date, we talked for 6 fucking hours. For the love of god, why did I fuck that up? Ugghh... it was probably the right decision, I shouldn’t let my own loneliness get in the way of things. I shouldn’t regret a decision I made when I wanted so much and tried hard in good faith to make things work with Lis. But it just wasn’t natural. It’s not that I didn’t want it, it’s that it wasn’t working.

Okay, anyway. So I had the date with Laura and the moment I dropped into her car and set eyes on her I thought “oh no, nah, sorry, this ain’t gonna work.” We had a nice date and we chatted and ate french fries and mozzarella sticks and talked about serial killers and whatever other nonsense. I brought up free will on a concept but she didn’t really engage with it, bleh.

So yeah, okay, fine. It’s mean to say, but yeah, sure. Basic. That’s what she is. Good on her for going into nursing and trying really hard at it and getting good grades, though (yeah, she hasn’t even started nursing school yet bleguk lol) but whatever, stop judging you asshole.

Sigh. Okay. Sorry. Let’s get back on track. So I said soiya to her and she was cool with it. I felt kinda bad because I could see she was disappointed when I told her that I didn’t think we had a romantic future together, but she took it fine and said she hoped I found what I’m looking for.

And but so that ended, and I did what I always do and hit up dating websites and probably try way too hard. Hey Dan, try Tawkify, The Elite (or whatever the fuck it’s called) and Hinge next, because at this point it just feels like you’ve exhausted the possibilities on the other sites.

Tinder: no one’s fucking responding, except the one girl who was just a few messages.

OKC: same, except literally no one is responding. Why did they like my profile to begin with??

Bumble: Same exact thing. Matched with 4 women, extended all 4 of them, nothing. Messaged some other girl I had chatted a bit with, nothing. Messaged some other girl who said before she wanted to meet up with things felt “safe-ish”, but truthfully it’s been like 5 months so whatever, that’s fine and makes sense, but all the same, nothing.

idk OKC has always been a pretty good source to meet women but it’s just low, low, low quality these days. Like 14 out of 15 women who like my profile aren’t attractive, let alone that 90% of the rest just sound basic. Probably higher, like 99%. When was the last time that I felt thunderstruck? With Gina. But she was kinda crappy at convo, like she wasn’t even trying.

It’s all so frustrating and disheartening. I feel like there was more I was going to say. About how I became way less forgiving towards Laura after I found out she was fat. I was glad to slip into the conversation, organically, that sometimes people don’t look the way they do in profile pictures. I hope she took that to heart. Don’t put “average” weight in your profile when you’re a good 20 pounds overweight, honey.

Sigh. I’m sorry to be a dick, it’s just annoying. I wouldn’t normally care but she insisted upon chatting for a week before meeting up. Maybe she was apprehensive simply because she was insecure about the way she looked. Hey hon, a week won’t make a fucking difference. You were nice to talk to, but if you’re a heffer, it ain’t happening.

I’m sorry, this is so mean. But god damn it... like that’s the exact reason I told her that meeting face-to-face soon was convenient. I told her that’s the best way to determine whether there’s chemistry. I feel like a dick but I hope she’s learned something from that. Oh well. At least it’s not like with Adrienne, where I was totally god damn into her and she was smart and beautiful and face-to-face was just as wonderful as text messages, and... ghosted!

At least I wasn’t just another asshole who ghosted Laura. I was straightforward. I would never ghost someone, but it’s unusual that at the end of the date, if I’m not feeling it, I’ll outright say it. But Laura told me how important it was that people be honest, so I’m happy to have been able to give that to her, and not chicken out and wait until the next day to text and say I wasn’t feeling it. Or to kid myself into saying “well i just need another day to figure it out lol” when I knew very well that with whatserface (the one where we hung out and drank beer by schyulkill river and then went and got pizza afterwards) where I said “um idk lol  lemme think about it” then texted her the next day to tell her I wasn’t interested.

Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. At least you’re keeping an open mind. Not saying No outright.

Blah, meh, whatever. I think I already said that dumbass Mary finally got back to me to say “omg i’m liek so teh sorryz!!!11 I felt overwhelmed by whatever the fuck and consequently shut down and didn’t look at my phone at all!!!11″ So fucking dumb. You knew I texted you stupid bitch, don’t lie and say “well liek i mean lieko mg i just liek didn’t check my phone and didnt know u texted!!11″

But props to her to admitting that she needs to grow up. That couldn’t have been easy to admit. So I need to have grace with her. She admitted that she didn’t have a good excuse. So I had no reason to eviscerate her. I just said “Sure. Take care.” At least she felt bad. At least she was self-aware. At least she had the strength to come back and apologize and admit that she was wrong. I give her props for that, and so probably shouldn’t be so angry, but whatever, by the time that dumbass texted I was already over it.

Okay and so what now? This is weird but okay fine I’ll admit it. What sparked me to come onto here was because I had a few drinks and I cheated and bought another pouch of tobacco, bad Dan! How are you supposed to git gud at kickboxing if I’m a huffin-and-a-puffin all over the place? But I feel good because I got praise from the guy I partnered with at muay thai and I think I did a good job with him, and my knee-throwing is getting better! Hurray for me!

Okay and but so sorry, so the reason I came here was because I was drinking and smoking and watching Jonathon Haidt and Malcolm Gladwell and the roundtable was fantastic and then I started drinking and I was talking to this cunt on tinder who decided to stop messaging back after literally two messages (I fucking hate people), then I got sad and insecure and watched a couple episodes of Cowboy Bebop (almost done with the series)

Sorry to ramble on and fucking itemize everything I did this night, it’s so trivial and tedious to the reader but whatever, I don’t care. So I did all that and was feeling tired and decided to go back up to bed and thought of my shaven testicles and maybe fondled them without realizing it or maybe I just got horny, whatever

So then I came upstair sand I was going to masturbate and a common thought came to me and it’s been stronger lately, where I get scared. I’m scared about what I masturbate to. And even though it’s never really happened... I mean, not really... I don’t think? But I became afraid that I’ll become too addicted to what I masturbate to and won’t be able to have a meaningful sexual relaitonship when I do eventulaly get into a romantic relationship.

I don’t want to get hooked on certain sexual thoughts and have to use them when I’m doing the deed. Like I don’t want to have to be sleeping with a woman and start fantasizing about something else to achieve orgasm. This is scummy, but I don’t want to have to be getting my dick sucked by some smart and interesting and sorta cute but fat girl and be fantasizing about how she’s only doing it because she wants me to like her, like we’re on a date, first date, and she’s sucking my dick and it feels amazing but to push myself over the edge I had to give a voice to her thoughts

And the voice is “okay, this guy is really hot, I want him to like me, first impressions and all, I need to suck his dick really good. I don’t particularly like it, but you gotta do what you gotta do.”

RIGHT NOW. I’M GETTING A BONER RIGHT NOW AS I THINK OF IT. Then part of me wishes I saved her pictures so I could look at them again and remember her and think about her sucking my dick and get off on how maybe.. I mean probably not but what if that’s what was really going through her mind?

She was really sex-positive and communicative and awesome, and I was giving, and it seems like I mean she obviously enjoyed it when I licked her pussy and got her off, and it was kind aweird becaus eshe said that she came and the first time I didn’t beilev eher because it seemed really low intensity, almost an afterthought, “yeah I came”, and I jsut figured “well I guess she wasn’t that into it and didn’t want to keep at it, or maybe she was insecure, or this or that, but this whole ‘i came’ thing is a lie, she just wanted to move on and spare my ego.”

But then we went at it again the second date and she supposedly came twice and this time I outright said “are you sure?” and she kinda chuckled and she said “yeah, I think I’d know”, and so I believed her, she seemed sincere. Micro-orgasm, maybe, or maybe she’s just not super reactive/performative/exaggerated about her orgasms, I mean that’s prefectly possible, it was just weird, like I just had this powerful and irrefutable notion that she was faking

Wahtever, I don’t kven know why I’m still talking aoubt it. This all started beacuse I said that I felt bad about the things I masturbat eto. I think maybe I was molested. I think maybe I nede to see a sex therapist and it’s really strange and I don’t know. So and then like maybe I need to um like I don’t know but so maybe I can hit up Collette and se eif she has any colleagus I can talk to.

idk man but I had fantasiez about me seeing Collette and her giving me “sex therapy” and tehy were super sexy at the time, kinda sad and disappointed that those powerful fantasies didn’t last, the way that the ones with Lis do, they just keep coming, she’s the second fucking sexual partner I’ve had where I’ll consturuct all these elaborate fantasies about nonconsensual sex (or barely-consensual, no pun intended) and write literally dozens of pages about all these situations they get into about being humiliated and degraded, these sexcapades where they don’t want to be slutting themselves out and sucking all this dick but they hav eno choice because they’nve being blackmalied

God I’m such a fucked up person. I know I Shouldn’t be ashamed of nfantazies, isn’t that a truism now? No kick-shaming? lol kink-smaming. DAMN IT .Kink. Shaming. So anyway, yeah, I know, that’s the montra, and I know that people will know that but not take it to heart beacuse a lot o people are ashamed of their sexual fantasies. There are even women who hav fentasies about non-consensual sex and forced gang-bangs and shit like that, thank you to kink.com for showcasing some of these porn actresses who rae getting interviewed and telling their fantasies.

Hey bruh it don’t make no difference whether the scene I see is also their fantasie, not in particular, but knowing that some women fantasize about such evil, rapey things also exist and make me feel less bad about degrading women in my own fantasies.

Things are really strange and I love porn and porn star sand they’re super sexy and I shouldn’t be masturbating so much to them lmao literally I hav eno idea what i’m even talknig about anmyroe ,my mind just keeps gkinda going to lunch, I mean I Don’t think I’m more drunk than I was when I started this entry? Just giving less a fuck, but definitely more tired, I def feel tired now, I feel strange and sad and I want s’ much to fucking meet the love of my life but I can’t do it but whatever. I’ll probably beat off about Jackie (hell Dan write a story about her!) but maybe and maybe not but I’m just really fucking tired.

Goodnight.

[therealbenkatz-blog]

Craig Foster - Part of the problem, not the solution!

We have all heard the half time and full time rants of Craig Foster, disapproving of everyone and everything that has transpired since the outstanding success of our Golden Generation, first qualifying for the world cup after a 32 year hiatus from the world stage, and their fairytale journey into the knockout stage.

2006 since, SBS (and the bogan twins Bozza & Slater at Fox to be fair) has been winge after moan after sook after problem after ‘just not good enough,’ like a broken record of disapproval of everything about the Aussie game, ignorantly looking straight past the obvious realities.  

Me, as a fan and viewer, am sick to the teeth of it.  So much in fact Fozz has become a part of the problem, not the voice of some kind of football prophet he clearly sees himself as.  The constant negativity and disapproval has an effect on viewers, including many new fans to the game (after the 2006 triumph)  who don’t have that long term deep understanding of the game.  Constant bemoaning is echoed by fans of other codes and there we go, football is once again tarnished with an unwanted stigma, and ‘coincidentally’ crowd numbers drop, TV viewership drops and we’re all wondering what the hell happened.  Bloody negative media muppets happened thats what!  

We are seeing an increase of delusional expectations and criticisms of our top players as a result, punditry bordering on cringeworthy whinging like that seen in the UK... and as we see time and time again, British fans behaving badly, embarrassing their nation, and top players getting booed off the field.  Its no wonder many don’t even want to represent their nation, and/or are afraid to go anywhere near social media.  Instead of building them up with national pride, the British fans tear them down crushing their pride and self confidence .. its no wonder they haven’t succeeded at a World tournament since 1966, despite arguably hosting the worlds top league. Why on earth we want to be like them god only knows.  What happened to great Aussie spirit, encouragement, support, getting behind our players etc etc  

I’ve listened to Fozz on countless occasions waffling on about our sporting culture and translating that into the great game... whats good for the goose clearly is not good for the gander on SBS these days.. or maybe its the pent up frustration of never having qualified for the World Cup himself.  An ambassador for THAT game against Iran, and the silly excuses over a serial pest streaker. Whats more Aussie than a streaker at a World Cup qualifier?  You sir are not one to be criticizing this young squad who worked harder, and travelled farther than any other nation to qualify for this Cup in Russia.  They didn’t lose concentration at the final hurdle, like you and your mates Bosnich and Slater. They battled, persevered and ultimately triumphed in the end.  

You still seem to believe the world cup is a football academy and ramble on about development - NO the World Cup IS the pinnacle, the highlight for generations following to aspire to - we play our best team, put allour eggs in one basket, leave it all on the pitch, old or young, irrespective of what happens after - we play to win, leave our stamp on the world stage, full stop!

I recall Bosnich being labelled a terrible professional by Alex Ferguson, testing positive for cocaine at Chelsea, and refusing to represent the Green & Gold when called upon... has anyone else in any other sporting code in Australia turned their back on representing their nation? A real example for the rest of us to follow hey Bozza,  Every single player in this current 2018 squad is a greater professional, example and success story than these 3 stooges... and I for one am a fan.  A supporter... to the true meaning of the word - not a critic.

The late great Les Murray was loved by all, for his passion, while managing to remain impartial.  He understood his responsibility and impact on the football public with his commentary and remarks... the current ‘football analysts’ as they love to call themselves, do not.  They are like the fathers that never made it, who are living through the lives of their children, barking and carrying on like sideline lunatics at everyone along the way.

The current generation of Socceroos should be admired, and held in high esteem. They have elected to travel the tough road as Ange once said, and deserve that respect.  Any one of them could have easily achieved domestic success in another code. But their drive and passion for the world game have taken them on the hardest road there is, to the distant corners of the planet, scorching conditions in the middle east, ice and snow, hostile nations, war torn countries... you name it!  Only footballers endure these kinds of hardships when playing away, trying to qualify.  It seems only Ange Postecoglou understood this.  

Despite the controversial back 3, Ange lead a brave young squad, birthed a new, younger generation, auditioned them on the world stage enabling many signings to bigger clubs and leagues, and implemented (not just waffled on about it) a football strategy reflective of our sporting culture. He has built the foundation to a squad that will be peaking 2022, and in Qatar we may see the boys reach the heights of 2006. His mandates - win the Asian cup, qualify for the World Cup.. tick, tick!  And the first Aussie manager to do it!  All the way under stinging criticism from Fozz & his croneys, their sentiments being echoed through the football fraternities, into living rooms, schools, football clubs etc etc  Armed with new juicy criticisms straight from King Troll himself, cue the online social media troll onslaught, attacking our best young players for not being as good as Messi - despite their outstanding achievements.  

And then what happens after qualifying?... leaving us all gobsmacked...  Ange steps down just months before the Cup, blaming the unrelenting attacks on him and the effect of it on his family... leaving us in this bloody mess, and again the ranting and raving of football philosophies and blah blah blah from our lovely ‘analysts.’ 

Bloody good job you muppets - Fozz, Bozz and Slater you twats need to take a good old look in the mirror if you are looking for someone to blame.  “Ange needs a stronger back bone I hear you say,”... maybe, but he clearly doesn’t, and now here we are!  Would we have lost 4-1 to Norway with Ange? I doubt it. 

Fact: The boys are not all playing week in week out in the EPL, Serie A, Eredivisie & La Liga like the 2006 squad, get real!  We need to encourage, support our talent, and help to build the game at home, like our great Aussie sporting culture is world renowned for.

And Fozz, mate, coach, do something about it, if you are the expert of all things football! Or go back to reading the cricket and AFL scores on the 6 o’clock news, grease your own pocket & keep your criticisms between you and your posse of failed World Cup campaigners - we are sick of your hypocritical bloody whinging and moaning!..especially at 3am tired AF after sweet FA sleep!