#but my feed didn’t have any skam in it anymore

[folerdetdufoler]

just an fyi the ol’ twitter account was suspended, because i posted too many edits with pop songs. i don’t know if i’ll ever get it back, or if i even want to bother, because i’m sure there was some embarrassing henjei shit on there. maybe twitter did me a service. anyway, i tweet about other stuff on @jegheterkerry if you’re interested. otherwise be prepared to see more posts that should’ve been a tweet posted here instead.

[maybankiara]

IF I SAY A CLICHE (IT’S CAUSE I MEAN IT)

pairing: Pre-Canon!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

summary: Despite knowing his name, or perhaps in spite of it, Y/N only ever calls him Rafael, even as he goes above and beyond to get her to go out with him. (Especially as he does that.) -- loosely based off Noora x William from SKAM

w/c: 6.3k

a/n: @snkkat suggested this like three months ago and i recently remembered this and wrote it in two sessions. this is a lil baby of mine and i adore it with all my heart and i really hope y’all enjoy it, too!

masterlist | tag list

‘Hey.’

 It takes Rafe Cameron three years to notice you. When you moved to the Outer Banks, to the outskirts of what the locals called Figure Eight (‘Without a doubt, the prettiest, most extravagant part of the island,’ said your dad), you built your way out of nothing. It was a fresh start – new school, new friends, new opportunities.

 And obviously, new assholes who think they’re all that in high school.

 Rafe Cameron is, easily, the worst of the crop.

 It’s your third year of high school when you’re walking down the staircase in the northern wing of the Robert Cooke Academy, and Rafe Cameron intercepts your way.

 He’s all gelled hair, preppy-boy clothing that consists of a muted-yellow polo and black trousers, and a grin that somehow encompasses his entire personality.

 You raise a single eyebrow. ‘Hello?’

 ‘You’re Y/N, right?’

 ‘Yes, I am, Rafael.’

 The thing with boys like Rafe is that they’re easy to know. You didn’t have to look at him twice to see he thinks of himself as the prince of the school—the island, actually—and that just about every person who lives and breathes in the Outer Banks knows exactly who he is. Not long after that, you heard some talk of Rafe constantly giving those “filthy pogues” from the south side of the island what they deserve. He’d show up to school with bruises and stitches, but never without a smug look that’s just as prominent than the injuries themselves.

 You hear your friends move behind you, letting some people pass. Rafe doesn’t budge, and you don’t either.

 His eyes search yours with the same crook in his smile. ‘It’s Rafe.’

 ‘That’s what I said,’ you state. ‘Rafael.’

 The look he gives you is puzzled. He stares, just for a moment, and then you push yourself past him without another word. Your friends follow suit but he doesn’t, which you consider a good thing – Rafe isn’t used to girls not falling at their knees around him.

 When you’re finally away from the staircase, leaving him behind, your friends ask you about the whole ordeal. They don’t ask much—they know you’re not someone keen on whatever the social hierarchy of the school is supposed to be—but they ask why you decided to consistently call him the wrong name.

 A teacher enters the classroom and the talks turned into hushed conversations. You turn around in your chair with it letting out the tiniest squeal, and smile at your friends sitting beside you. ‘I just thought he’d hate it if I called him by the wrong name.’

 ‘He’s going to hate you,’ one of your friends deadpans.

 ‘And therefore leave me alone.’

 The teacher calls on your for talking, so you get your attention back to the class, instead. Contrary to what might be the popular belief, you don’t really think about Rafe. What you did was what you thought necessary to keep him away from you.

 Boys don’t like girls who poke at their ego.

 Except.

 Except Rafe does.

 When he approaches you two days later, it’s in the corridor of school where you’ve never seen him before (‘Which means one thing and one thing only – he was looking for you’, your friend concludes later).

 You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, pretending not to see him even when nearly every head around you is turned towards him. You clutch your books close to your chest, getting ready to return them to your locker for the lunch break, when he steps in your way.

 Again, you raise an eyebrow. Your back shivers at all the eyes staring at you, now.

 Rafe gives you a fox-like smile. ‘Hi, Y/N.’

 ‘Get out of my way, Rafael.’

 The corridor stirs, or so it seems.

 An exasperated sigh comes from the boy in front of you, yet he looks as sure of himself as ever. ‘You know it’s Rafe.’

 You cock your head to the side, eyebrows furrowing. ‘Is it?’

 Rafe laughs, for the first time, and it’s a sound that somehow fills the space between the two of you. You tell yourself Rafe is just a boy, but it doesn’t ring true this time.

 His eyes drill into yours for a long moment. ‘Go out with me.’

 ‘Ha! Not gonna happen.’

 You pull your shoulders back, straighten your spine, raise your chin and step around the boy with ease. He’s quick to react, though, so it’s less than a second later that your hear heavy steps catching up to yours. His presence at your side is something that takes a lot of effort to ignore.

 ‘Have lunch with me, then.’

 People stare. You ignore them, too, and take a turn into the corridor that leads to the cafeteria. ‘That’s not going to happen, either. I’m having lunch with my friends.’

 ‘Fine,’ says Rafe, and you have to repeat the word in your head to be certain you’ve heard it correctly.

 ‘Fine?’

 ‘Yeah, fine,’ he reaffirms. ‘What, were you hoping for a different answer?���

 Part of you wants to admit that you thought he’d put up a fight, keep you entertained even for a bit (no, you tell yourself, i’m not looking to rafe cameron for entertainment!), but you keep your lips pressed tight as you look him up and down.

 The smile you give him is sour, far from reaching your eyes. ‘Not in a million years, Rafael.’

 ‘Rafe,’ he says again.

 ‘Mhm.’

 You reach the cafeteria and he is still at your side, but you ignore him. That is, until you feel a hand clasp your arm and bring you to a halt – firm and decisive. It’d take a fool not to know who it is.

 When you turn around, there’s a question on your lips, but an answer already falling from his, ‘Go out with me.’

 ‘I said that’s not happening.’

 ‘If I buy you lunch?’

 ‘You can buy me lunch,’ you say, ‘but I won’t have it with you.’

 ‘Fine.’

 All you do in response is quirk an eyebrow at him, arms crossed at your chest. He’s still holding onto it, and when he finally lets go, you feel cold where his hand once was.

 Rafe smiles at you and, surprisingly, it’s a smile with charm and no cockiness. ‘What do you want?’

 With only the slightest bit of hesitation, you tell him your order for the day. It’s more than you’d usually take—some of it is for your friends, too—but he doesn’t seem to care, even if he notices. He tells you he’d bring it to your table and you join your friends who, naturally, have about a million questions.

 The two of you weren’t particularly unnoticeable with your conversation.

 You’ve got no answers of substance, though, because the story repeats itself – Rafe Cameron asks you out and you deny him.

 True to his words, about two minutes later, the blond arrives to your table, tray in hand. ‘For you.’

 ‘Thanks, Rafael! You can go now.’

 Rafe places the tray in front of you, hands firm and steady. You don’t even look at him, continuing to talk to your friends instead, but you do feel the air whoosh around you as he turns and leaves, without a word.

 You snack on the fries as if nothing just happened. When your friends ask, you pretend it was nothing.

 It wouldn’t be a lie if you said that you never intended on communicating with the school’s half-official (if all those football trophies are saying anything) king. He’s not looking for a queen – if the rumours you hear are half as true, his bed is warmer like this, anyway.

 One of your friends accuses you of playing mind games with him in an effort to make him fall for you, and you nearly flip out. ‘Rafe Cameron is a misogynistic, self-obsessed, narcissistic pig. I’d rather go out with an actual pig than him.’

 Your friends let it go, because you sound convincing enough, but you can’t seem to let it go anymore. On your way home, you tell yourself you have every right to feel no guilt or remorse for the way you act towards him – you tell yourself he’s never shown you to be anything other than the person you think him to be.

 But then – he bought you lunch, knowing he’d be getting nothing out of it.

 maybe that’s the plan. lull me into believing him to want nothing and then have me give him everything.

 The thought is annoying enough that you get on Instagram when you get home, finding yourself scrolling down his feed. Friends, football, family, travels. His tagged is worse, though – mostly partying, him with a variety of girls as his arm candy.

 Your phone ends up thrown on your bed with a little too much force.

 This is it, you tell yourself, no more thinking about Rafe.

 It lasts until morning, anyway. He catches you on your way into the Academy, relentless at your side.

 ‘So,’ begins Rafe, ‘misogynistic, self-obsessed, narcissistic pig.’

 Your heart sinks into your stomach and your blood runs cold – you’d never meant for him to hear that. But you keep walking as if his words can’t touch you, even if you have to stuff your hands into your pockets to keep the embarrassment from showing. ‘I wasn’t wrong.’

 ‘You were.’

 ‘Interesting theory.’

 The two of you pass through the entrance. People are looking, again, without even hiding it anymore. You wonder what they are saying, whispering when neither of you are within earshot. Do they think you’re a slut, just one of Rafe’s conquers? Do you think you’re an ice-cold bitch? Do they think you’re stuck up, or doing the right thing?

 Maybe they don’t notice, you find yourself hoping. The moment Rafe decided to start talking to you, you lost any semblance of anonymity you might’ve had before.

 He smells like a fancy cologne, you realise. A mountain forest with a sprinkle of something from the sea.

 ‘Let me prove you I’m none of that.’

 ‘Not happening.’

 He steps in front of you, making you stop. ‘Go out with me, one time, and if you still hate me, I’ll never bother you again.’

 You ponder for a hot second, shifting weight from one foot to another. ‘I don’t hate you. I don’t care about you enough for that, Rafael.’

 Rafe’s neck tenses just the slightest bit, and you think that maybe you’d finally found something that does put him off. But then he relaxes, lips stretch into a comfortable smile, and he shrugs. ‘All I’m asking for is one date.’

 ‘And you never talk to me again,’ you clarify.

 ‘If that’s what you’ll want.’

 ‘Fine.’

 ‘Fine?’

 The smile you give him is coy. ‘Were you hoping for a different answer, Rafael?’

 He shakes his head. Against your will, you notice that he looks far more relaxed than before, and you aren’t as indifferent to noticing that as you’d told yourself you’d be.

 ‘Not in a million years.’

 For a moment, you try to figure out if quoting one another to one another is cringe, and then you give up, because you already know the answer.

 It should be yes.

 But it is this: he notices. He pays attention.

 So you let out the tiniest of sighs. ‘Friday, six o’clock.’

 ‘I’ll pick you up at yours.’

 ‘You know where I live?’

 ‘No,’ he says, ‘but I’m guessing you’ll text me your address.’

 Rafe puts out a hand and you know what he’s meaning. The bell rings as you’re taking your phone out of your pocket, signalling the start of the first period that you’ll most likely be late to.

 He saves his number to your contacts and you put it back, already on your way.

 Naturally, he’s quick to fall into step with you. ‘You’re not going to text me the address?’

 ‘Not giving you my number before I need to.’

 You stop in front of a classroom and peek through the small window on the door to ensure the teacher hasn’t arrived yet. When you glance at Rafe, your hand on the doorknob, he’s smiling.

 ‘Whatever you want, Y/N.’ He takes a step back, just about beaming, and you do your best to ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach. ‘See you Friday!’

 ‘Whatever, Rafael.’

 He blows you an air kiss as he walks away and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from smiling. When you finally get into the class, mere seconds before your teacher, you spend most of it thinking about none other than Rafe Cameron himself.

 At the end of the day, you’re just human, and he is just another hot guy. It’s human nature to feel things for people you don’t necessarily want to. And, to be fair – aside from being slightly annoying and fairly inconvenient, Rafe has been nothing but a gentleman to you.

 No one has ever bought you something without expecting anything in return. And fair enough, it could be argued that Rafe did expect you to eventually agree to him asking you out—which you did—but he couldn’t know for sure.

 And, despite what you might be saying, you like the attention from him. You like feeling seen.

 Monday to Friday passes with occasional glances, bare conversations. Rafe approaches you several times, buys you lunch every day and brings it to your table without hesitation. You hear what people begin to say – how they begin to call him “pussy whipped”.

 The bell rings just as you’re about to deny the rumour, and you’re quite literally saved by the bell. You get into the classroom unable to believe you were just about to defend Rafe Cameron, and it’s only Thursday.

 If he knows, you don’t notice. The rumours—about the both of you—simmer down to whispers by Friday afternoon, and when Rafe brings you lunch this time, there’s a note on it.

 You look gorgeous, it reads. I can’t wait for tonight. – Rafe

 There was no need for him to sign it but he did, and when you glance at him,  inadvertently, you catch him looking at you.

 Rafe smiles, and you return it.

 When the last bell rings, you text him your address. Your friends don’t know about the date – if they knew, they wouldn’t let you live it down for the entire week. What they know is that Rafe kept trying to do something with you. Whether it meant to sleep with you or marry you, didn’t matter.

 Not like you know either, anyway.

 Rafe shows up at six on the dot, driving a car that you’re not sure if it’s his dad’s or his own. Could be either. He opens the door for you, lets you decide the music, and tells you he’s not letting you know where he’s taking you.

 ‘If you kill me,’ you say, ‘my friends know where I am.’

 ‘They don’t.’

 ‘How would you know?’

 ‘I know you’re embarrassed of being seen with me,’ he says quietly, ‘and I know you wouldn’t tell them we’re on a date right now.’

 You manage to stop an apology right just as it’s about to fall from your lips, innocent and all too earnest. You don’t want to be sorry for keeping this a secret, even if Rafe’s done you no wrong.

 He pulls up at a hill, in the heart of the island. There’s a bench right in front of you, no streetlights in sight. If he wanted to murder you, he couldn’t have found a better spot.

 Rafe pulls the handbrake. Turns off the car. Looks at you with a look in his eyes that you can’t read.

 ‘I’m not expecting anything,’ he tells you, as if it were a secret. ‘Just so you know. If you leave still not caring, then… I guess that’s the way things are.’

 There’s nothing you could say to that, so you say nothing. He leaves the car and goes to sit on the bench. For a few excruciating moments, you remain in the car, until your curiosity gets the best of you.

 Fresh air feels like water on a hot day. You wrap your jacket around you tighter, aware of Rafe’s back turned to you. He’s facing the town, instead – from where you are, you can see the entire island. The lit-up Figure Eight and the faded-away Cut all the same.

 The moment you sit down, Rafe looks at you. His expression is the one of quiet relief – as if he didn’t think you’d join him.

 He notices you shivering. ‘I have coffee in the car.’

 ‘It’s nearly seven o’clock.’

 ‘So no? I’ve got tea, too.’

 ‘Tea would be nice.’

 Rafe comes back a minute later, two cups and a thermal one in hand, as well as a blanket. He sets the cups on the bench and places the blanket on your shoulders, gently, with far more care than you’d think him possible. He pours tea into a cup and hands it to you, then pours some more into his own.

 You’re surprised that he isn’t talking. You can hear the crickets in the distance, and some birds chirping away, too.

 The calm is odd. Peaceful, if you dare say so.

 ‘You like the view?’

 You nod. ‘It’s quite pretty.’

 ‘Yeah, it is.’ He lets out a shaky breath, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. ‘I come here when shit gets tough.’

 A chuckle passes your lips before you stop it. Rafe doesn’t look at you, but you see him tense. It feels wrong, so you clear your throat and ask, ‘Tense?’

 He glances at you, but doesn’t speak for a while. You can’t tell if he’s gathering his thoughts or gauging whether you’re worth it or not. If you were him, you wouldn’t know what to decide about the latter.

 The blanket around your shoulders is warm, so you wrap it around yourself more tightly, taking a sip from the cup in your hands.

 ‘Why do you think I’m a misogynist?’ he asks. ‘I get the others, but…’

 You take your gaze away from him. The street lights look like little fallen stars, and you try to search for an answer within them – an answer to a question you’re still too afraid to ask.

 ‘Is it because I sleep around?’

 ‘Maybe,’ you say. He’s putting you on the spot and you haven’t got the answers he’s looking for, either. ‘You’re always with others girls, and you just let them throw themselves at you, like you don’t care about them. Like you use them and leave.’

 ‘When I sleep with a girl, she knows what she’s getting herself into,’ he explains. The words seem to fill out his mouth and come forth slowly, as if carefully weighted. ‘None of them expect anything more than a one-night stand. And it’s not my fault they throw themselves at me – the least I can do is give them what they want.’

 ‘So it’s all on them.’

 ‘Yes.’

 ‘You’re never the one pursuing them.’

 ‘No,’ he says. ‘When I’m pursuing someone, it looks like this.’

 Gentle, you think. Quiet.

 Two words you’d never connect to Rafe Cameron. Not until seeing him at the top of this hill, leaning over the Outer Banks, a warm cup of tea in hand, looking ready to pour his heart out to you. Ask and I’ll answer, it’s as if he’s saying.

 You glance at him and for the first time, you think about him without stopping yourself. You wonder how much of who he is, is a front – the bad boy, the desirable one. There’s no doubt that he’s enjoying it, but how much of it is he working for himself? How much effort goes into keeping up the image?

 If half of what he’s saying is the truth, then he’s just entertaining what people already think of him.

 does that make a difference?

 You’d like to think it doesn’t. He still sleeps around, then doesn’t look at them twice. He still pesters you, can’t take no for an answer, basically throwing you an ultimatum in order to get you to go out with him.

 does it make a difference?

 ‘Does it make a difference?’

 Rafe turns to you and holds your gaze. Even under the dim shine of a new moon, you can see the pandemonium inside it – he’s trying to find the answer to the very same question.

 He sighs, then lets his head fall down. ‘I was hoping you’d be able to tell me that.’

 ‘Is that why you wanted me to come here?’

 ‘No,’ he says, no louder than a whisper. ‘I just wanted someone to try to see me for who I am, not who other people say I am. Guess I was wrong.’

 ‘Or maybe you just are what others say you are.’

 The look he gives you is pained, and his face distorts as if someone had backhanded him across the face. His knuckles go white from the intensity with which he’s gripping the cup and, for a moment, he looks outraged – eyes bewildered, lips slightly parted – and then he blinks, and all of it is as good as gone.

 A moment of weakness. A moment of seeing into the Rafe you had no idea existed.

 You wonder if that’s who’s hiding behind the front – a boy of barely seventeen, maddened by the fear. You wonder if there’s more to the ‘things getting tough’ than you’d thought.

 Rafe clears his throat. His eyes are fixed onto the street lights, far into the distance. When he speaks, his voice sounds the same. ‘I can drive you back now, if you want.’

 You can’t tear your eyes off him. ‘I think I’d like to stay a little longer.’ He looks at you, face unclear. ‘The view is nice.’

 The smile he gives you is tiny and modest, but it’s thankful more than anything else.

 The one you give in return is kind.

 Time passes, and the two of you do nothing but spend it together. He’s sitting on one side of the bench and he on the other, not touching, not talking, not acknowledging one another.

 is he lonely? you wonder. This doesn’t look like a place he’s brought many people to, even if you haven’t asked. He’s always got friends around, but he didn’t hesitate to ask to have lunch with you, and you know how those football friendships tend to be – nothing more than convenience for convenience’s sake.

 does he have any real friends?

 Against your will, you pity him. You pity the boy who’d fooled everyone into thinking he had it all sorted out, yet his front shattered the moment he stepped out of that car.

 A few more moments with him won’t hurt. Maybe he just needs someone to be around.

 ‘What makes you come up here?’ you ask, after nearly half an hour of silence.

 Rafe frowns, then side of his face you can see stretches out into an empty smile, never reaching his eyes. ‘It’s peaceful. No sides. No obligations. No other people.’ until now – he doesn’t say it but you hear it, anyway. ‘No pretending to be who they expect me to be.’

 ‘Freedom,’ you say.

 ‘Yeah,’ he echoes, ‘freedom.’

 Eldest child and only son of one of the wealthiest men on the island. Star quarterback. King of the Academy, prince of the Figure Eight, prince of the island.

 Where does a royalty like that get freedom aside from place with no other people?

 ‘Why me?’ you ask.

 He deserves some credit – the actually thinks before he talks, this time around. ‘You don’t like me. It’s nice, for a change.’

 Your laughter seems fleeting, but it earns you an earnest smile from the boy. ‘That’s fucked up, Rafael.’

 ‘Tell me ‘bout it.’

 ‘Is that your thing? Liking girls who don’t like you?’

 He shrugs, even laughs, a little. ‘Maybe. It’s nice when people don’t have expectations of you.’

 ‘I expected you to be a douche.’

 ‘Am I?’

 ‘A little bit,’ you admit, ‘but not as much as I thought.’

 He smiles, his face turned to you. He appears to be shining a little, under the moonlight, and his hair appears far blonder than it is. He looks fragile, almost – you don’t think it would take much to shatter him into pieces.

 ‘Thanks, Y/N.’

 You only give yourself a moment to smile before scoffing. ‘You’re still arrogant and self-absorbed.’

 Rafe shrugs, but he does it with ease, as if weight had been lifted off him. ‘Nobody’s perfect.’

 At this, you just roll your eyes.

 The silence that befalls is comfortable, if not comforting. Neither of you talks, and you feel like you are finally starting to understand the boy at your side. One evening together is far from enough to change your entire opinion on someone, but it’s enough to shake it up – make you think of them differently.

 You’re willing to give him a chance.

 ‘I think I want to go home now,’ you say quietly.

 He nods. You’re back at your house one relaxing ride later, but you don’t get out of the car right away. The music playing on the radio is low and in the background; nothing is in front of you except street lights that appear to extend into eternity – it feels different than the world you left at the hill.

 ‘Thanks,’ you tell him.

 ‘What for?’

 You look at him, gentle. ‘The tea.’ And everything else.

 It’s the last you see or hear of him until Monday morning, when he shows up at the front door of the Academy just as you’re about to enter, holding to coffee cups that smell distinctively of tea.

 ‘Mornin’,’ he tells you, smiling wide. You greet him back and he falls into step with you, handing you one of the cups. ‘Tea?’

 You take it – it would be rude not to. People are staring, again, and you realise you’d forgotten that you and Rafe exist outside of your small world on the hill.

 Other people exist, too.

 The two of you stand in front of your locker. He holds your tea while you take your books and put others away. There’s still some time before the first bell and, surprisingly, you’re not too mad about spending it like this.

 ‘Aren’t you worried?’ you ask.

 Rafe hands you your tea back. ‘About what?’

 ‘People,’ you say, ‘rumours. Expectations.’

 ‘Not when I’m with you.’

 It’s just a statement, just an answer to your question, yet it feels more like a confession than anything else. You wonder what it must feel like to be so open about one’s feelings – putting them out for everyone to see, everyone to do with as they please.

 Or just you.

 You tear your eyes off the students filling out the hallway, hoping they’d do the same. Rafe is leaning against the locker beside yours, sipping on your tea, looking at you like you’re the only thing worth his time in the whole wide world.

 Your locker closes with a click. ‘You said I’d never have to see you again after the date.’

 For a heartbeat, he’s the same boy you spoke to on that hill – fragile, angry, broken. ‘Is that what you want?’

 ‘I don’t know,’ you admit. ‘Thanks for the tea, Rafael.’

 ‘Y/N—’

 Before he gets another word in, you march off, turning around the corner, making your way to your classroom.

 Chatter is what you arrive to; friends unaware of your entire perception of a whole person shifting in a matter of hours. If people paid attention to your and Rafe’s exchange before class, the whispers hadn’t arrived to your friends, yet.

 You don’t need to wonder what they’ll ask.

 Instead, you wonder about Rafe – you wonder about what to do next.

 He’ll leave you alone, if you say the word. You’ve learnt enough about him to know this to be nothing short of truth. Do you want someone like him in your life – someone who sticks to what people think of him like paper to glue? Do you want to see if he’s better on the inside than you’d think, kinder, nicer? If the Rafe you began to be introduced to at the top of the hill is who he truly is?

 You wish the answer were no. Things would be easier.

 Instead, come lunch time, the rumours have reached your friends, and you don’t deny them this time around. Yes, Rafe Cameron brought you tea in the morning. Yes, you were semi-nice to him.

 Yes, you plan on talking to him again.

 So, come lunch time, you are the one to approach him. He’s sitting with his football group that includes Topper and Kelce, two of the biggest airheads—in your humble opinion—Kildare has ever seen.

 He doesn’t notice you, because you walk up behind him, until Topper nods in your direction. Rafe raises his eyes to meet yours and you see the shape of his face change – soften. Rafe from the Academy morphing with the Rafe from the hill.

 ‘Rafael,’ you say. ‘You want to get some real food after school?’

 The eyes of the people burn into the back of your head – little daggers, stabbing at your privacy, privy to what’s none of your business.

 His lips stretch into a smile. It suits him, you think.

 ‘Meet me at my car?’

 You nod. ‘See ya.’

 In your head, the entire cafeteria watches the exchange with googling eyes. In reality, maybe a few people noticed. Your friends did – for the better or for worse, you’re unsure.

 As agreed, Rafe waits for you outside the building, on the adjacent parking lot. He’s leaning against the very same car he picked you up in last Friday, arms crossed over his chest, one ankle over the other, a lazy smile etched into his cheekbones.

 If anyone watches, you don’t notice. You try not to. He opens the door for you and when he finally drives away, after making a bit of small talk about your day—is it small talk or does he… care?—he pulls up at the Wreck. Something you’d always been told was for the tourists, not the locals.

 ‘Odd choice,’ you note.

 ‘It’s quiet.’

 He leaves the car and by the time you’ve taken your phone out of your bag, he’s holding the door open for you. You thank him and watch him do the same for the entrance into the restaurant, a bubbling feeling inside your chest.

 It doesn’t feel forced. It doesn’t feel out of place.

 If anything, it feels right.

 When you enter the restaurant and chatter fills out every inch of the place, you understand what Rafe meant by quiet. It’s where the two of you can have your own conversation, with a guarantee of seeing nobody you recognise, and the tourists that are coming around for the beginning of the winter season are loud enough that whatever you say, remains between the two of you.

 Rafe orders for you. You make him take a guess and he stares at you for a hot second before ordering something that you already know you’d like. ‘How did you know?’

 He gives a nonchalant shrug. ‘I was getting you lunch for a week. Kind of figured out what you like.’

 The sentiment is small, but it’s still here. You can’t stop the smile in your cheeks.

 ‘I thought you said you didn’t want me around,’ he says.

 ‘Changed my mind.’ You twirl your finger around the straw from the coke bottle, noticing it’s paper rather than plastic, like in other Figure Eight restaurant. ‘I wouldn’t mind getting to know the guy I met on the hill.’

 ‘Is that your way admitting you were wrong about me?’

 ‘The most you’re getting is that I’ll say there might be more to you than I figured,’ you counter. He groans with his head in his hands, but peeks at you between his fingers. ‘You’ve still got to prove me wrong.’

 ‘Okay,’ he says. ‘I’ll prove you wrong.’

 When he extends a pinkie to you, you can’t help but take it, not even caring about holding back your laughter.

 In the end, you spend the rest of the entire day with him. You learn bits and piece, here and there – Rafe is like a puzzle you need to solve to get to the truth. He’ll never say his father hates him, but you see it from when he talks about their relationship, and how many excuses he has to make for Ward to seem like a decent father (you don’t have the heart to tell him that he’s failed, both of them).

 A lot of things are noticeable only between the lines, and it’s something you learn over the course of the next few weeks. You and Rafe grow closer than either of you anticipated – a friendship forged out of unlikely circumstances. Him having his fucked-up childhood that makes him seek out approval from those who don’t give it to him, and you letting yourself care for someone who’s broken, seeing if you can help him fix himself.

 You don’t fix him. That’s not what friends are for. But you do point out things that aren’t okay around him.

 At school, he becomes a lot more like Rafe from the top of the hill. His smile is brighter and bigger, and his laughter echoes the halls with its fullness instead of sharpness. Even Topper and Kelce seem to be less of airheads eventually, and people don’t care that much.

 His tagged section of Instagram isn’t being filled with any more pictures with random girls – just you. At parties, at school, at wherever you go.

 He continues to get you lunch, even after you try to stop him. He greets the girls he’d slept with and he respects when you say that you don’t want to see him at certain times, even if he does ask twice.

 He asks about you – a lot. It’s the one thing you’ve been wrong about this whole time, and it’s the one that’s taking the hardest to admit.

 You’re at the top of the hill, just as you usually are on Friday evenings, before a party or whatever’s going on that night. Sometimes you’d just go to his or yours and watch a movie, go home or fall asleep together.

 Rafe brings you tea. You take it with a smile, feeling his thigh against yours. ‘Thanks, Rafael.’

 He watches you with fondness in his eyes. Sometimes you wonder if it’s reserved just for you – you never see him look at anyone else like that.

 ‘How’s studying going?’

 ‘Good,’ you reply. ‘It’s tedious, like it always is, but I’m getting there.’

 The arm looped around your shoulder is familiar, and the closeness of Rafe’s body when he tugs you closer is familiar, too. ‘You’ll get into a good college, Y/N. I’m sure of it.’

 ‘What about you? Aren’t you supposed to be studying?’

 ‘Doesn’t matter,’ he says, and you take note of the bitterness in his voice. His thumb caresses your shoulder as if it were a lifeline, and you feel him relax as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. ‘My dad will send me to UNC regardless of my grades.’

 ‘I’m sorry.’

 ‘It’s okay.’

 Freedom, you think – the one thing Rafe longs for the most.

 The one thing he says he only has when he’s with you. Freedom of judgement, of time, of future, of family.

 Just you, and him.

 You shuffle away from him, enough so that his arm falls from your shoulder to your waist, holding on. He looks at you with a wrinkle between his brows, lips slightly parted, tea cup in the other hand.

 You smile.

 And then you press your lips against his, your hands cradling his face. For a moment, nothing happens—you’re worried you made a mistake—and then he grips your waist and tugs you a little closer, his lips part and he kisses you back ferociously, as if you were the breath he’d been longing to get into his lungs.

 Rafe rests his forehead against yours when you break the kiss, the taste of him lingering. He’s warm and soft, and you feel at home in the arms of a boy you resented not too many months ago.

 Neither of you speaks. His thumb slips underneath your shirt, brushing against your skin, never travelling any further. His breath smells like tea and he tastes like it, too.

 All you hear is breathing, heartbeat, and a bird singing somewhere far away, or right next to you.

 Rafe lets out a quiet laugh. ‘I’m glad you don’t hate me.’

 ‘How could I?’

 You hear him putting the cup on the bench, knowing it even with your eyes closed. The tips of his fingers trace the line of your jaw, resting on your neck, with only his thumbs gentle at the place where your neck meets your jaw.

 He doesn’t say he loves you, and you don’t say it, either, but it’s one of those things that goes between the lines.

 Rafe kisses you and you realise it’s enough that you no longer worry about people seeing you, and he no longer tries to be who they think he is.

 ‘Everything that’s ever happened to us led to this,’ he states.

 ‘To a boy and a girl, on a hill,’ you say, words slipping off your lips akin to a dream. ‘Just Y/N and Rafe.’

 He kisses you with fire between his lips and holding onto you as if letting go would kill him, and for a moment, you feel it to be true. Your fingers are lost in his hair, pulling him as close as physically possible, and it truly feels like everything in your life led up to this very moment.

 Rafe and you, against all odds.

★

tagging. @jjtheangel @teenwaywardasgardian @thelocalpogue @jjmaybanky @sacredto @chasefreakinstokes @drewstarkey @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @margaritatimebaybee @outrbank @yourlocalauthor @justawilddreamerchild @snkkat @mynamewontwork13 @sunwardsss @storiesbymads @koufaxx @drewstarkeyobx @ilovejjmaybank @jjmaybanksbaby @mahleeyuh @starkeymarkey @nicolewithasoul @kiarawilliams127 @butgilinsky @bricksatanakinswindow @starlightstarkey @copper-boom @starrystarkey93 @hotel-colson @stargazingstarkey @outerbanksbro @anonymous0writer @annedub @outerbongs @jjandreidsgirl @jjmaybanqs @kaitieskidmore1 @maybanksbaby @yelyahryan @obx-direction-sos @stfukie @dustyjjumpwings@abbiesthings @tempestuousjj @coconutroseowl (i tagged you cause you said you were interested by the excerpt!) @solllaris @k-k0129 @queenofthepouges @jroseron

[skamamoroma]

Episode 3: Wtfock S3

(Sorry for the lack of Read More - it ain’t working!)

That opening shot of Robbe lying awake, uncomfortable, arms crossed over himself as Noor holds onto him is pretty heartbreaking. There’s no comfort there, no resting into the moment or anything of the sort. He’s even checking the time...! The fact that he sneaks out to be alone and chooses to sit, isolated at 8am on a cold beach rather than be in that bed makes me clutch my heart. That’s discomfort at its very finest. I love that in his quiet moments he thinks of his mamma and even if he doesn’t reach out this time, he always thinks of her. She’s always on his mind and the way he writes to her is so sweet and full of genuine love. You get these little glimpses into the truth of his heart and he’s such a sweetheart.

And after the disconnect and the isolation and anger and pretending, he goes from being completely alone to walking directly into Sander’s path and it’s JARRING but in the best possible way. I never realised this before but Sander’s weird ass role play (I love him so) is the first time we see Robbe genuinely flustered. He looks snapped out of himself and I hadn’t realised it till now quite how much of a whirlwind Sander was. He always felt like one but seeing it like this really makes you realise how much Sander changed for Robbe in an instant. You really get to feel what Robbe feels. This ‘oh my god there’s a handsome cool looking guy talking to me and he’s making jokes and shaking my hand and telling me to go with him’... Sander feels strange and yet weirdly familiar but I just love so much that Robbe has no idea who Sander is or why he’s suddenly in their accommodation but follows him anyway.

That passiveness really pays off for him (!) but, most importantly, I can’t get over the difference between THIS Robbe and the Robbe I know he becomes.

Sander’s “come” is legendary at this point but it really hammers home Robbe’s passiveness. The difference here is that we see Robbe actually giving it a moment’s thought and he still goes through with it. The supermarket scene was always so fun but OH MY GOD I didn’t realise how jarring it is - again! Robbe is smiling and giggling and being silly and FLIRTING. It’s a total joy and it’s the first time we see any of that in any genuine form from him. Willem H nails that far away swoony kind of look because Robbe looks kind of mesmerised by Sander for the most part... this total whirlwind of a human.

It’s so funny because I also never realised how much Sander seems like he’s trying to impress before. Knowing Sander as we do now, he’s like a peacock! He’s overly showy, overly cool and edgy, overly mischievous and his whole “name three Bowie songs” kills me. So pretentious! 😂

Ok I’m only minutes in and there’s SO MUCH TO SAY. I’m always obsessed with that moment when Sander hears Rebel Rebel because Robbe loses his shit. Sander is kind of overwhelming and a little too much but Robbe still feels able to stare at him like THAT. Robbe is all kinds of not coping...!

The whole sequence from then is when I think we see Robbe most comfortable so far. He’s interested, smiley, keeps leaning forward on the shopping trolley, he’s soft and genuine and engaged. I can’t get over how quickly it happened around Sander. And Sander is still being this over amped version of himself. It’s so funny seeing it this way because you definitely get this feeling Sander is showing off... and we know exactly why but it’s so adorable. We know Sander and he ain’t as suave as he appears here. The fact that Robbe just listens and listens and listens though. He’s... interested. How much that must have meant to Sander at the time!

I’m completely smitten with how they just instantly connect. Sander’s all chatty and silly and enthused opposite a softly spoken, enamoured Robbe who smiles so genuinely. Knowing Sander really liked Robbe before he met him properly makes this whole moment so much sweeter because Robbe is so LOVELY. I swear the noises he makes during this sequence are some of the cutest noises I’ve heard any human make 🥰 It’s like Sander gets so swept up though. From then on it’s all playful spinning and messing around and shopping trolley races... I really think Sander was just entirely wrapped up in the moment and in how nice it felt to connect with this guy he likes.

For Robbe though, for his story, this scene feels like a metaphorical firecracker. Everything feels shaken up and brought to life again. It’s so well done when you watch it as a whole.

The cut from the chaos to the little cramped kitchen and Noor feels a little jarring but it’s meant to. Suddenly, Robbe isn’t in this bubble anymore, he’s back into his reality but the funny thing is that his reality feels different to the viewer now. Sander is still holding a major presence and I LOVE how that’s reinforced by the fact that Sander kicks everyone out of the kitchen...! He’s like “nope, just Robbe and I are allowed” and pretty much ensures he gets quality one on one time. He doesn’t mess about!

This whole sequence is so precious though. We’ve seen Robbe not respond well to touch in quite a few ways but Sander is so close to him and you can feel Robbe’s head and heart spinning. He’s so sweet in his moment. He can’t stop staring at Sander, is listening to intently and Sander just looks completely smitten.

I think my favourite thing is that this is the first time someone asks Robbe something about himself. We don’t even see Noor doing that. People have enquired about how he is but nobody so far in the season has really asked him fun interesting things about himself and poor Robbe doesn’t even have an answer. Says kind of wistfully that’s he doesn’t have traditions. I love that it doesn’t stop Sander and he shares a lot of little personal bits of information freely, clearly WANTING Robbe to know him.

This little moment almost feels choreographed! Robbe’s little crouch leading into Sander’s eye roll at Robbe’s adorable uselessness, then the reaching around one another and gentle brushes against each other... the way Sander allow himself to touch Robbe’s back in such an affectionate way as he steps away and the way Robbe can’t stop staring as Sander licks the joint...you can feel that little swarm of butterflies in both of them. It’s the loveliest.

Sander is so dorky too. I love that they threw that in there like Skam Fr did with Eliott early on. With other Evens we had to wait a little bit Sander is full on dancing and pretending ketchup makes any meal healthy!

He’s much more relaxed and himself in this moment and I like to think it’s because Robbe is so lovely. He’s this gentle soul and Sander looks endlessly smitten with him so kind of eases into being more authentic and calm around him. I think it’s what makes him so intent on doing anything to make Robbe smile or look flustered... even down to feeding him. You can FEEL how soft Sander is for Robbe’s sweet ways so early on. I bet he couldn’t believe the boy he liked from afar was so lovely in person.

When Britt arrives, you can see that flicker in Sander’s eyes. Regret. He doesn’t want Robbe to see this and doesn’t want to leave the moment and then the rest of the episode forces that distance so enormously that you feel that pull to have them in close proximity again because it’s all space and distance and antagonism from Sander’s rocky relationship with Britt. Sander looks a little rigid and unhappy and Robbe is existing in some perpetual carousel of pretending while pining and feeling so uncomfortable about the whole thing. It’s a little exhausting to watch but it feels like that’s exactly the point. You WANT it to be different but you feel what Robbe no doubt felt...

It’s only heightened by his frustration with his friends. He shows his friends moments of kindness and then keeps being “rewarded” by being left out, unseen and goaded. It feels so unfair and it’s little wonder Robbe loses his temper. His mind is mangled and he has no release at all because he’s stuck in this one isolated place facing all of it over and over again. It feels stifling and it’s little wonder that Robbe gets drunk and a little sloppy. What makes their version of Call Your Girlfriend so great is that it’s at the end of the week and that distance feels huge... so they close it in their minds. It’s kind of urgent and charged and desperate with this added edge to it and I love that it’s their way of being together without being together. That kissing through someone else feels like the purpose here whereas the og and other remakes had their own spin!

The fact the episode ends with the morning scene makes me giddy... I hadn’t realised how much of a whirlwind this week was!

Aside from Sander’s “let me having my coffee, woman!” face, the entire last scene is Sander saying SCREW THE DISTANCE, I want him back near me. The engineering Robbe to help him, the stepping close to Robbe and the opening up about feeling unable to be loved for who he is... Sander keeps his eyes on Robbe the entire time, always checking his reaction and it’s like the week tried to keep that distance and it only sought to make them want the quiet close connection even more. It feels like such a MOMENT for Sander. He might seem bold but you can see the vulnerability in his eyes, Willem DS is so wonderful at that.

The fact that the moment ends with them moving closer in an almost kiss is near god damn poetic!

But the special part is the way Robbe effectively explains the unspoken reality of the entire week. Sander arrived as a stranger, Robbe arrived as an isolated and kind of broken guy. They end the week weirdly connected and it worked... Sander came along and met new people and Robbe stands there and for the first time is allowing himself to say, a little cryptically, that there’s something there and he recognises it too.

Ugh. The whole episode is a total whirlwind and it ends on a moment that flips everything over once more. You feel so shaken up and like Robbe is feeling a little more alive but a whole lot more confused!

[toddandersvn]

I see a lot of people don’t liking skam italia S3 I didn’t watch it live so I don’t know what was being said during the season but why do a lot of people think it didn’t live up to the potential?

hey anon!

quick disclaimer: i liked season 3, but it’s definitely not my fave out of all of the ‘noora’ seasons, like season 2 was for the ‘isak’ season.

quick disclaimer bis.: this is my opinion. If any of you are reading this and want to add your opinion in the replies or reblogs or tell me why you think i’m wrong, feel free:)

and i’m a blabble mouth so it’s all under the cut because i dont wanna clog the tag and feeds🌻

basically, i loved incantava in s1, i loved the banter they had. If you remember Besse changed edo’s line after ele said ‘what a nice person you are’. In the og he said ‘who are you’ or something along those lines, but besse made him say ‘thank you’ and ele bounced right ofg that line into her perfect roast. Even the ‘sei bellissima cazzo’ clip had the same level of banter and chemistry. ‘you haven’t answered my texts’ ‘yeah’, but also the way she kept sayin ‘ahhh’ when he was talking. What I think changed the most in their dynamic for me was the long wait and how nervous edo looked before saying it, like you could feel the nerves and that he really meant it and by that point they had everything I had and I was hyped.

Then came the summer, i’m setting the scene here: i log on to twitter, to see there are rumours that skamit may have decided to swap s2 and s3, cue the_best_of_both_worlds_hannahmontana.mp3 because it was. It, for one, meant that i would get martino’s season sooner (but that’s not what you asked) and two, that incantava’s dynamic would be different. It meant that when the season would start they would have known each other for a year, grown together, talked more, their friendship or banter would have evolved. perfection. i kept imagining scenarios in my head even though i knew i probably wouldn’t see much as it was a boysquad season but still, i was hyped and my imagination was going wild.

Then came season two, such a good season, yes you can ask antis and they would tell you otherwise but i can tell you what i know, this season did so much for me, and it means so much to me. It helped me through so much and i’m really glad i watched it live. Besse did some minor changes that in the end changed the story but still made sense and made me want to walk through fire if it meant any of the characters would never be hurting again.

And even though ele essentially wasn’t in s2 i think that her talk with edo during the first clip again showed how well they worked together and how great they could have been

Then s3. In my opinion too many changes happened at once so it’s difficult to pinpoint exactly where things sorta fell through but, just a reminder, timvision (the production company) changed ceo or ceo-equivalent to a greedy money hungry guy who didn’t want to produce anything for free (aka a show like skam) so skamit became private and only for people who paid for a specific italian streaming service and besse was too busy editing and working on s2 so he hired ludovico di martino aka ludo 2.0 to direct on s3. And he did great, honestly props to the man because artistically s3 is amazing. but it’s not a skam.

For s3 most of the episodes were under 16 minutes, probably due to money hungry McGee (but maybe not) but different directors have different views so having the show be seen from someone else’s point of view, the outcome was bound to be different from besse’s. We don’t know exactly how much besse worked on s3, we know he edited some of it, but maybe he wrote it and did the storyboard and s3 would have had the same outcome if he shot it himself, but that is still a mystery.

As far as scenario goes, because the episodes were so short, and t*mvision gave up on the transmedia entirely and we barely got chats, the show (at least to me) felt empty. It felt like nothing really happened because we got like 4 minutes of clips during the week and a longer one on fridays, but since so many seasons were going at the same time, 6 epsiodes dropped on fridays and skamit sort of got lost under the pile because it just wasn’t really exciting? i dont know if that’s the right word but yeah. ALSO i have to say i have not done a full rewatch of s3 yet, i have only rewatched clips and parts i really liked, but i’ve heard it does better as a tv show than as a “skam format” which makes sense to me when i look at the way season three has been filmed. Basically a mutual of mine (hi elle if you’re reading this!!) has said that it actually works when you watch it as episodes as a whole and don’t wait for clips. So that, anon, is probably why you don’t see what we saw watching it live.

To conclude (yes i’m writing a conclusion, it feels appropriate), i think the reason why we live-watchers were disappointed and thought it didn’t live up to its potential was because they were set up so well in season one and two, but also we saw season one and two and how good those were so our expectations were so high, and maybe that’s where we fell through. If we didn’t have expectations we probably would have *loved* this season, but we expected martino, but dude this ain’t it. Also ele was like one of my favourite skamverse characters because i see so much of myself in her and i think i just wanted the best for her because i was projecting?

so yeah anyways that’s my very long take on it, i never wrote anything about it before but it felt good to write:) if you have anymore follow up questions or things weren’t clear feel free to drop by my ask, i’d be so happy to answer🌻

[double-tequila-squared]

13 and 26 for the I'm not American ask prompt, please 😊

Does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders?

I have no idea about norwegian superstitions, but my mom had some. From the top of my head: Don’t turn a chair upside down bc someone close to you might die, don’t leave shoes upside down or you’ll get told off for something by your superior (boss, parent, etc.), don’t step over people’s legs or whatever because they won’t grow tall, and don’t wash your hair on tuesday, thursday or saturday or you’ll never get married. I don’t believe in those superstitions but you just go along with it so your mom can relax lmao (except for the hair washing thing, I wash it when I want to and she doesn’t mind anymore). As for traditions, whenever I have an exam my mom always feeds me a spoon of yoghurt and sugar, it’s supposed to bring good luck. 

EDIT: FUCK I just realised I didn’t answer the second question I’m so stupid. 

Does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?

The only popular show I can think of that had a lot of Norwegians in it is Skam lmao. And it was okay, brought up a lot of important issues and all that but never really understood why non-norwegians were so obsessed with it. Let me just say that not every Norwegian teen’s biggest concern is about “russetiden” as the show made it out to be. The drinking and partying all the time was kinda accurate tho. Norwegians use any excuse to drink and they drink a lot. Then again, that might just be my impression from where I live. Other than that, there’s not a lot of brown girl rep in western media, we had Kala Dandekar but we all know what they did to her in the end…

[lightsandlostbells]

Skam France episode 5

Wanted to say thank you to all translators of this show … it’s really generous to keep up with the clips, especially on top of how many social media updates there are. You are the best <3

Episode 5 reaction

Clip 1: coffee with Lucas

This scene felt so sterile to me? Largely because of how it is shot. The coloring is cool and blue, not bright and warm (watch the original clip and notice the stark difference), there are these big windows taking up part of the frame and this table with almost nothing on it that puts all this space between the camera and the characters. Part of this conversation is filmed at table-level, not at eye or face level, and it feels so removed. The space between them and their body language makes it look like an awkward first date and one of them is going to fake a sick grandmother in order to leave in 10 minutes. 

I don’t know what to make of Lucas’ performance here. It’s like he enters the cafe knowing something is up and he’s alert to any relationship dysfunction. Almost like he’s humoring Emma. And he’s holding back amusement at her troubled romance with Yann.

I mean, if they’re keeping Isak’s involvement in this season much the same as in the original, Lucas bothers me a lot more? Because honestly, Isak’s meddling seemed more opportunistic than anything. I don’t think he had a grand master plan to break up Jonas and Eva, I think was just stumbling onto chances to mess with them and (with telling people about Eva and Chris) acting impulsively/drunkenly. That doesn’t excuse him, but I also don’t think he was sitting down and making bullet points about how to break them up. Lucas … I’m not saying he has a grand master plan and he’s writing bullet points, but this seems like he’s putting more effort into playing her. Like his “good advice” feels more like an act. Maybe it was Tarjei’s acting but I think he did a good balance of Isak being a snake but also kind of not keeping it entirely under control. You can see him start to smirk a little when he questions Eva about why she’s with Jonas. With Lucas, the way he walks in kind of smirking about Yann and Emma’s problems and then puts on this wide-eyed, concerned tone once he’s feeding her bad advice is a little alarming. 

Might be worth asking whether people have a different read on that original scene with Isak and Eva. Because I always thought Isak met up with her not really anticipating that she was going to ask about Jonas, and only caught on due to the nature of her questions, and pounced on that. But maybe other people thought he was expecting this conversation when he walked into the cafe?

If I wasn’t aware of the storyline, I’m not sure what I’d think here. On social media, Lucas and Emma seem to be pretty close and always doing goofy stuff together with Yann, but this really doesn’t feel like a conversation between friends. 

Clip 2: Daphne’s O-tales

I did like the opening shot leading into the girls on the bench.

FOR FUCK’S SAKE, CHARLES. Wrap up your dick. You grown-ass man.

Actually, adding a scene in which they establish Daphne buying condoms, only to tell us that Charles didn’t bother, makes him seem so so much worse.

Between Emma and Manon, the hat game was strong in this clip.

I wrote a post about this but Manon does seem like a more genial, easygoing kind of person than Noora. I like her and found her sweet here; her feminist comments are more gentle than Noora’s. But she’s also less forceful and confident, and that’s perhaps why some people are finding her more forgettable.

Wow Charles comes across like a MASSIVE dong here. Way more so than William. William kind of hurriedly walked by Vilde and kept his eyes averted and muttered hello. Charles seemed like he wanted to establish eye contact with Daphne for the specific purpose of ignoring her.

I did like that Emma approaching Alex seems like a more deliberate fuck-you to Yann. 

Daphne is so cute.

Clip 3 - Emma and Yann argue, then make up

The POV. …. ARGH

Whyyyyy did the camera follow Yann. Why.

Rewinding a bit, Yann and Emma are so much more forward then Jonas and Eva. Eva was a little hesitant to bring up the issue with Ingrid and Jonas was floundering a little when coming up with a story. You could see he wasn’t totally confident in his lie. Emma just gets straight to the point and Yann fires back at her. They’re very assertive in this argument. It’s way more confrontational, as are many things about their relationship.

Though it’s worth mentioning that when Eva did bring up Ingrid to Jonas, she was pretty assertive. She was reluctant at first but she held her ground.

Yann is so much more of a giant asshole in this conversation! He keeps telling her she’s annoying. Now Jonas told Eva to stop being insecure all the time and that also stings, but Yann is really out of line. He also seems a lot more aggressive when he asks if Emma wants a break. Jonas seemed fearful that Eva really wanted a break. Yann doesn’t say it like he’s scared of her saying yes. He just throws it in her face. 

I’m glad that Emma sticks up for herself and tells Yann not to speak to her that way because it was really inappropriate. (To a degree, though, I’m like … Eva’s character arc doesn’t exactly map onto Emma, it won’t feel as earned if they try to keep it exact.)

I do like this song. I’ve liked it before the show and when I saw it in the credits I was waiting for it to show up.

So this part in the original is very distinctive, when the camera keeps Eva and Jonas at a distance, and we watch them fight and make up without hearing them. It’s especially memorable because of how Skam tends to put us up close with the characters’ emotions, and in this instance they don’t let us in on the conversation. And I can see why Skam France didn’t want to just recreate that, because even though they’re redoing much of the original series, to redo that scene exactly as the original is … sort of pushing it. So I get it, they wanted to find a different outcome for the scene, but it really annoyed me that they went with this because of the choice of POV.

Emma walks away and they keep the camera on Yann. We see him make the decision to go after her while the music plays dramatically. But this is so strange, because it puts the emotional emphasis on Yann and his thought process when this is Emma’s season. We should see her thought process, we should have seen her walk away from the table heartbroken and upset and angry, done with Yann’s bullshit. It’s her decision not to put up with it anymore, it’s her development, her emotional state as a character. It’s just really odd that all of a sudden they gave this moment to Yann.

A comparison would be toward the end of season 2, when William is leaving for the airport and we see Noora walk away and call Eva on the phone. We see her emotional reaction to William leaving, all the way up to the car pulling up in the background and William going to her. We could have had that here, where we see Emma distraught and eventually see Yann run after her in the background. I just don’t like that they shut us out of this very important emotional moment for our lead character. We didn’t even see her face as she was walking away.

I know the original show didn’t stick to the POV of the protagonist 100%  of the time, but it did for the most part, and when it diverged during the season they were typically very brief moments. Off the top of my head, I can’t think of a comparable scene where most of the camera work and the emotional emphasis went to the love interest rather than the protagonist. It would be as if William got in the car and we saw him thinking it over as Penetrator Chris drove away, and we saw him tell Chris to go back, and we followed him as he went back to Noora. Or if, for example in season 3 when Even leaves the hotel room, we follow him as he goes out in the streets naked and we leave Isak behind. IDK, it’s just bizarre and a blatant divergence from the show’s structure. 

Clip 4 - Daphne, Daphne, Daphne

The intro effect was kind of odd, as if the girls had been plunged into a nightmare from which there was no escape and it was all about Daphne nonstop telling us about Charles.

I don’t know if we’re supposed to take Charles’ texts as legitimately about his basketball game or him just giving Daphne some BS excuses, but the part with him saying “the coach is putting so much pressure on me” is a thing I hope is real. Give Charles some motivation outside of his love life.

Alex asking for the topless pic of Daphne - well hello. Can this be foreshadowing for gay/bi Alex?

I actually like how this scene was paced and how the girls were kind of humoring her until it got to be too much.

So I found some of Imane’s previous interaction with Daphne unnecessarily mean, because it felt like she was putting down Daphne even when Daphne hadn’t merited that reaction (rather than being a response to Daphne saying something ignorant) but I liked her more here even though this is the most blunt she’s been so far. Maybe because she had a real reason to be blunt.

Also I haven’t commented on the social media much but there are texts where Imane acknowledges how harsh she was and says she will apologize to Daphne, which is nice. 

I think some of why Imane can come across harsher than Sana is because Daphne doesn’t really push back as much as Vilde did. Vilde would seem pretty steamed about the way Sana talked to her (like shushing her) even if she didn’t argue to her face. She was still mad about it to the other girls. In this scene she openly asked why Sana is rude to her. Daphne doesn’t even stand up for herself here, she just leaves upset.

Imane’s words about guys also resonate with Yann’s dramatic speech (showering you with compliments, etc.)

Clip 5 - Horror Comics

Right off the bat, I LOVE the costumes. Love love love. I would have the time of my life going to a party like this.

Alex as Annabelle and Manon as Georgie from It <3

The opening is a fun way to set up the party vibe and establish Daphne looking wistfully at Charles. I don’t know if this was intentional, but Harley Quinn is absolutely the costume you would wear if you were trying to get a guy’s attention. I don’t mean that in a “fake geek girls” way or that Harley cosplayers do so to look good for men. There’s just a sexual connotation with the character that doesn’t exist in demonic dolls or little boys in rain slickers who get murdered by evil clowns.

Alex sitting on the couch and not moving, just smiling creepily, is so perfect and IC for her costume, I love it.

Not to sound like a creep but Ingrid looked kind of hot in her horror makeup. 

I waver between whether they’re trying to make Raptor Alex/Emma a legit ship or to make him more of a jerk. Because kissing her forehead might seem kind of sweet, but then it’s like … oh yeah, that is actually inappropriate to do to a girl you barely know who has a boyfriend. And he doesn’t seem happy that she pushed him away.

It’s kind of funny to me that Camille is giving her this very, very teenage advice. Honey, at least one of you is in her 20s.

Camille is a sweetheart and I liked that she offered her number to Emma.

But also … the look of her confusion on her face as Emma left … c’mon dudes. I don’t mind little things like this, but you know, you can establish that suspicion/confusion while Emma is in the room witnessing it, like when Camille first walks in on her and Alex. That’s enough. We’re good.

The shot of Daphne watching Charles (with some random girl, btw, not Sara) was very Dramatique~ but I thought it was well done. Daphne sold it with her heartbreaking reaction.

Oh, Charles dressed as the Joker! That is actually great. Did Daphne know that he was going to dress that way, and planned to go as Harley Quinn accordingly? Or was it a coincidence? I’m going to take it as planned; she found out and decided to have a matching outfit with him, as a sort of couples’ costume. Even though he probably didn’t know about it. Ouch, Daphne.

(Was that an Edward Cullen at the party when Emma leaves? Lmao.)

The reveal of Yann smoking weed is dumb when Emma straight up saw Not Elias smoking with Yann and Lucas at the cabin. Like did it not occur to her…

And Yann posts about smoking weed on IG, what the fuck, this shouldn’t be too much of a surprise.

It really doesn’t make sense when Yann says that he didn’t tell Emma about smoking weed because of exactly the reaction she was having that moment, when Emma is just like, okay you’re smoking weed, meh. Eva actually got upset that Jonas was smoking weed and treated it like it was a big deal, so that made sense for him to say he didn’t tell her due to her predicted freakout. Emma barely gives a shit about Yann smoking weed and openly says so. She was more upset that he hadn’t told her and had lied. Yann is then like, well I didn’t tell you because of the reaction you’re having now. What?? So you lied to her about smoking weed … because you were afraid of her reaction where she is upset that you lied to her about smoking weed. The fuck? 

Sometimes I get the sense that they go through the scripts and make superficial changes but don’t bother with follow-through. Like someone said, “I don’t think Emma would care about him smoking marijuana,” so they changed that part, but stopped there without considering whether the dialogue and character motivations still made sense. This isn’t the first moment like this but it’s probably the most important, since Yann’s behavior in the first half of the season hinges on it.

Props to them for having some silence in this conversation, and for having Yann kiss Emma on the forehead - repeating the gesture Alex did earlier, unintentionally twisting the knife. Although the dialogue went a little OTT, as did Yann’s following text message, in terms of dramatic irony. I TRUST YOU SO MUCH EMMA, I’M SO HAPPY WE PUT THE LIES BEHIND US, I WAS STUPID TO THINK WE COULDN’T TELL EACH OTHER EVERYTHING. We get it. You don’t have to bang us over the head.

General Comments:

Daphne is still my favorite part of the show. Between her stealing the show and Lucas being not all that great so far, give her S3. 

Maybe I should get used to the POV not being as tight, but then you have to ask … what is the point of sticking to the story from Emma’s POV, other than the original doing it? For example, I’m watching the new season of Jessica Jones. The show is about Jessica Jones. She is the main character and has an arc. But she’s not the only character with development. The supporting cast has scenes without her, with their own story arcs, where they acquire information and do things that Jessica Jones does not know about. There’s nothing wrong with this because it’s the setup of the show. In fact it’s the setup of most shows. 

On the other hand, Skam’s one-person POV is pretty rare in terms of television shows. Actually I am struggling to think of another series told exclusively from another person’s perspective for more than a special episode. If you think about it, it’s rather inconvenient for most overarching plots. So why would you consciously choose this rather limited format? What is the benefit of it? To immerse yourself in the main’s head, to walk through their struggles and triumphs. If you’re going to cut that character out of their own emotional reactions, then why not do the multi-POV? And if you’re sticking to the single POV, then yeah, it is sloppy and worth mentioning. 

I mean, if you’re writing a book, you’ll be advised to keep your POV consistent. A novel with third person limited POV will receive criticism for messy writing if it strays. Harry Potter books don’t randomly jump to Ron’s POV in the middle of scenes. I feel like the same mindset is applicable here.

Not to Start Shit but at this point I definitely think the whole song and dance about “contractual obligations” to be faithful to the original Skam were mostly said to appease fans who didn’t like that the remake was such a close copy. I was skeptical about it when it was first said, but I mean. We’re now past the halfway mark, past when we were supposedly going to have the season diverge, but uh, it’s not. They have clearly been able to change some small things and add a few scenes here and there, so what exactly were these nebulous conditions that the remake had to follow? Did Julie Andem hand them an outline and say, “Here, you gotta do all the stuff on this list but go wild with everything else?” 

I’ll happily admit to my mistakes if there are more official details on the remakes’ obligation to the original, and with four episodes left they could still throw a few curveballs. But do I think that’s likely to happen? Nah, not really. Possibly a slightly different outcome for Yann and Emma. I think maybe they’ll omit some scenes and some smaller story points for time reasons, but that’s it.

[shame-in-german]

Just thought I’d introduce myself (apologies if you read some of this twice, I’m posting it to my Skam Italia blog too) so you know who is actually answering your asks on here. Basically if you see any blog called shame-in-[insertlanguage] etc, it’s me. Also if @tailsbeth​ replies to you, that’s my main.

I’m Taylor, 24, bisexual gal from Scotland. I’m a huge fan of the original Skam and of European culture in general, so I’m rather excited for all these remakes. Druck is one I’m particularly excited for as I lived in Germany for a semester in 2013. I lived in Koblenz and while I didn’t speak a lot of the language (I was studying English, and I had the easiest accent to understand so everyone wanted to practice with me, it’s all a very long weird story), I just love hearing it again and also the culture. I’m determined to learn the language and move back because I honestly felt so at home that semester.

You’ll probably hear me say ‘from a writing POV...’ a lot and that’s cause I’m a writer, I’m currently studying for my MA in creative writing. While I love the characters, its sometimes easier to assess things from this perspective as I’m not that age anymore and also its not my culture. Oh also, I write Skam fanfic occasionally, check it out on @tailsbeth-writes​ (Yes I have tons of sideblogs haha)

I might take a while to answer your ask but its usually cause its lost in my phone feed/I’m thinking how to answer. I tend to write essays it seems! I love discourse, I love hearing different POVs.

Anyway, hello! So far I’m feeling good about Druck, keen to see more.

[littlespoonevan]

Always the Guest, Never the Groom

Skam Fic Week Day 6 - Wedding Guests au

i hope you like it, friends!!!!!

*

Isak hates weddings.

He didn’t used to, back when he was a kid and every relative and older person he came across would slip him money just because he’d gotten taller or something. But now- now Isak is at an age where it’s socially acceptable for him to get married. As such, all his friends keep fucking getting married.

Meanwhile, Isak sits, single as ever, at reception dinner after reception dinner watching happy couples feeding each other cake and make speeches about love. So yeah, he really hates weddings.

They’re at Julian Dahl’s wedding tonight and Isak doesn’t even know how the fuck he and his friends were invited. He’s pretty sure none of them have seen Julian since school but Isak had been out-voted when he suggested they not go. He supposes the open bar and ridiculously lavish food Julian paid for kind of makes up for it.

And a couple of months or years ago, Isak could’ve actually enjoyed himself at an event like this but as it currently stands; he’s his groups’ seventh wheel. Jonas had brought Eva, Mahdi had brought his new girlfriend, Magnus had brought Vilde – they’re not even together anymore but she’d nearly had a conniption when she found out they were going to Julian Dahl’s wedding.

And maybe Isak could’ve found a date but what would’ve been the point? He’d just have to mind them all night – though that’s possibly preferable to what he’s doing now which is grouchily stirring his drink with a straw while he watches all the couples on the dancefloor.

He’s just considering the merits of making another trip to the snack table – where the last remnants of the sweets and cakes that had been brought out an hour ago still remain – when someone drops onto the stool next to his.

Isak raises his eyes from his drink to check if it’s one of his friends and almost falls off his seat when his gaze lands on the guy next to him.

Tall, top two buttons of his dress shirt undone and tie loosened, his hair is swept up in a quiff that’s somewhat deflated considering how late in the day it is but still looks so soft. And his eyes- jesus fucking christ Isak never knew he had a thing for blue eyes but he does now apparently. It’s the stranger’s knowing smirk that knocks him for six though.

Fuck, he’s handsome.

“You look far too lonely sitting over here on your own,” Handsome Stranger observes with a quirk of his eyebrows.

Isak fish-mouths a little, needing a moment before his brain kickstarts again so he can find an eloquent response. In the end all that comes out is a lame, “Got tired of dancing so…”

Handsome Stranger nods thoughtfully before offering Isak his hand and a charming smile. “I’m Even.”

“Isak,” he breathes, trying not to squeak when Even’s warm hand closes around his. Again, he didn’t know he was a hand guy until just now.

“Can I get you a drink, Isak?”

Isak frowns at him. “Isn’t it an open bar?”

Even laughs and wow, okay, that’s the only sound Isak wants to hear ever again for the rest of his life. “I can’t believe my attempts at flirting are being foiled by an open bar.”

Isak’s heart fucking screeches to a halt at the word flirting and he takes a sip of his drink – that’s mostly melted ice by now – in a vain attempt to compose himself. He’s got just enough alcohol in his system that he might be able to pull this off. Keeping his face as unreadable as possible, he asks, “Are you flirting?”

Even grins, a playful spark dancing behind his eyes. “I’m trying to.”

“We’ll pretend you didn’t say the drink thing then,” Isak quips. “Start over.”

Even looks terribly amused and Isak tries not to feel too delighted by it. “Alright then,” Even says. “How do you know the happy couple?”

Isak pulls a face. “This is your new attempt?”

Even huffs, nudging Isak’s elbow where it’s braced on the bar-top. “Just answer the question.”

“I went to school with Julian,” Isak replies obligingly. “What about you?”

Even contemplates the question for a second and Isak doesn’t really get why – it’s not a hard question and he’s the one who asked it in the first place. Finally, he says, “Julian’s one of the financiers for my movie.”

Isak raises his eyebrows. “So that’s your plan? Use an innocuous question to get a chance to drop the fact you’re what? A fancy director?”

Even nods proudly, looking like he’s biting back a laugh. “Yes, to the director part but no, I wasn’t trying to impress you.”

Isak eyes him doubtfully and Even huffs out a laugh.

“Okay fine,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. “Maybe I was trying to impress you a little. Did it work?”

Isak bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling, taking a haughty sip of his drink and answering with a vague, “Maybe.”

If anything, his answer just seems to make Even even more pleased as he signals the bartender over and points at Isak’s drink which is now officially gone. When the bartender sets down another drink Isak looks back to Even and an involuntary smile upturns the corners of his mouth.

They talk for a while, with Isak nursing his drink while Even regales him with stories from set. Isak only feels a little bit smug when Even’s expression goes slack with surprise upon learning Isak is a scientist. Two can play at the impressive job game. And Isak finds himself becoming more and more endeared by Even with every passing second. He’s really nice but he’s also funny and interesting and complimentary and Isak really wants him to stick around.

“So how come you were actually sitting here on your own?” Even asks when Isak’s drink has been reduced to melted ice once again. “Because I find it pretty hard to believe you don’t have a date to this thing.”

Isak flushes at the compliment, hoping he can blame it on the alcohol. He clears his throat, looking out onto the dancefloor and catching sight of Eva and Jonas laughing together while they drunkenly engage in some approximation of dancing. “Nope, no date,” he answers quietly. “I’m actually seventh wheeling it.”

“Seventh wheel?” Even asks incredulously before bumping his shoulder against Isak’s. “If it makes you feel any better, my buddy Mikael who was invited too ditched me like five minutes into the dinner.”

Isak shakes his head in exasperation. Friends definitely can’t be trusted. “Guess we’re both alone then.”

“Not anymore,” Even reminds him softly and Isak’s heart definitely skips a beat. Even hops off his stool then, turning to stand in front of Isak and holding his hand out. “Wanna get out of here?”

“And go where?” Isak asks, mostly because he’s afraid if he takes Even’s hand again he’s not sure he’ll be able to convince himself to let go.

“I’ve got a joint in my suite plus any drinks or room service we order will go to Julian’s bill.”

Isak gives him considering a look before allowing himself to grin and slipping his hand into Even’s. “Lead the way then.”

With an offer like that, how can he refuse?

(After that, it turns out weddings aren’t so bad as long as Even’s there.)

*

[milominderbindered]

thirty days of skam fic: day fourteen aka isak and even go food shopping after moving in together

beginning. accusation. restless. leaves. rainbow. flame. formal. under. move. silver. prepared. knowledge. denial. cans. order. thanks. look. summer. transformation. tremble. tent. mad. thousand. paper. winter. luxury. letters. promise. simple. future.

[ READ ON AO3 ]

“Is that -- Even, are you seriously putting mung beans in the cart right now?”

“Mung beans are nice! I put them in that vegetable soup thing I make.”

“We have a list, though.” As if to prove his point, Isak leans over the handles of their shopping cart and waves the piece of paper in Even’s face. It’s only the torn-off side of an old essay that Even had scribbled on, but holding it does make him feel rather grown up.  “What's the point of making a list if at all you're just gonna keep putting random shit in the cart as we walk around.”

“You're only saying that cus it's something healthy. Don't think I didn't notice those two bags of tortilla chips going in.”

Isak just rolls his eyes. “Even.”

He actually thinks he deserves some credit here. Yes, he'd sneakily added some store-brand Doritos, but back when Isak lived at the Kollektiv, his shopping list pretty much solely consisted of those, instant noodles, frozen pizza, and some oranges so he didn't end up getting scurvy. He is totally moving up in the world.

“Ugh, fine, no mung beans!” Even finally gives in, big lips pouting as he puts the beans back on the shelf.

“Thank you. Get regular beans instead. And, um -- fuck, what does this word say? Why the hell did you have to make a list on paper instead of just on your phone, you have the worst handwriting."

“My handwriting’s great.” Even pauses to come over and lean on Isak’s shoulder, squinting down at the list. “Uh, yeah, I can't read that either. It probably wasn't important.”

Isak sighs, and shoves the list back into his pocket. Maybe that was an over-optimistic level of organisation. He's sure they’ll vaguely remember everything they need to buy.

He starts pushing the cart down the aisle again, but Even stops him two seconds later to dump a bunch more cans in. Chopped tomato, sweetcorn, tuna, spaghetti hoops -- Isak’s pretty sure he's just grabbing these at random off the shelves.

“What's your obsession with canned goods?” Isak wonders, as he takes the tuna back out and abandons it on a wrong shelf. He leaves the vegetables, figuring they'll at least probably get eaten. “You've tried to impulse buy twice as much stuff down this section than anywhere else.”

Even, who is halfway through stretching up to the very top shelf to grab some frankly horrifying looking canned meat, turns around and affects and overdramatically shocked expression.

“Baby! This is our first ever time grocery shopping for our own place. We don't have any of the -- you know, those weird cupboard staples. Mysterious tins that have been in there for eight years but that you might use someday if you're desperate, so you don't throw them out. It's things like that which turn a house into a home!”

“We don't have a house,” Isak points out. He blocks Even from putting the mystery meat in their cart, so Even turns around and starts looking at canned peaches instead. “We have a two-room flat with only one reliable kitchen cupboard. Also, you're ridiculous. I just want you to know that.”

“You love it,” Even teases, as he adds a gross looking fruit-salad tin to their collection. Isak hates that he can't help but smile back, no matter that he's pretending to be annoyed; Even is totally ruining his reputation as a grump.

The truth is, the tiny details Even is putting into making their new flat feel like home are ridiculously endearing. A cupboard full of canned goods isn't something Isak would ever have thought of himself -- mostly because there was never anything like that at his childhood house. His mum would sometimes go on a cooking spree, but the cupboards were always sparse, most of their food either takeaway, or the easy defrostable kind that a kid can make in the microwave if their dad happens to work late while their mum is having a bad day. It's no wonder he didn't do a great job of feeding himself when he moved out.

But Even’s life has been so very different to Isak’s. It's one of the things that makes their relationship so strong, he thinks sometimes; they balance each other out, even when it just comes to their pasts and experiences.

“Okay, fuck it,” says Isak, and reaches blindly for the newest shelf, pulling a can off it at random. “So do you think our home’s special weird can cupboard needs -- ew, mushy peas?”

Even beams at him. “Absolutely,” he says, reaching around from behind Isak to make sure the tin gets dropped into the rest of their shopping. Once that's done, he lingers where he is for a moment, curling his arms around Isak’s shoulders and dropping a few kisses onto his cheek.

That alone still seems like a novelty. They've picked a quiet afternoon to come shopping, but there are still other people around, yet Isak doesn't spare them a second of thought before spinning around and kissing his boyfriend back. He has reached a point he never thought he would reach, not even in his dreams -- the point where he's so happy that he just doesn't care anymore.

“I love you,” Even murmurs. Isak sighs, content.

“I love you,” he agrees, voice coming out all quiet, almost drowned out the by the tinny noise of the shop announcement system above them. But he knows Even hears him. “I can't wait to make a home with you.”

Even squeezes him tight for one more moment before stepping back, smiling so beautifully that Isak’s heart skips. Oddly, he doesn't mind the loss of contact. He knows they'll have plenty of time for that later; they'll have plenty of time for anything they want. They're about to start the rest of their lives together, and there’s something so fitting about the ways they're trying to focus on the small things, even when it comes to something as big as moving in together. It feels very them .

“Do you love me enough to let me buy mung beans?” Even asks through his smile.

The truth is, Isak does . He reaches for the can and puts it in with the rest of their shopping himself.

[scripts4dreamers]

Shameful Behavior pt. 2

Part One

AN: William decides to pick on someone his own size for once. Pairings: William x reader Characters: William Magnusson, Christoffer Schistad, Vilde Hellerud, Noora Saetre, Sana Bakkoush, Chris Berg, Eva Mohn Spoilers: None Warnings: None Prompt: “Can you please do a William from Skam x reader where she’s his friend and they fall in love and stuff?”

Of course, William had hooked up with Vilde. You should’ve seen that coming, considering that she was exactly his type. It brought a bitter taste to your mouth whenever you thought about it, especially because you’d actually become quite close to Vilde and her friends, so you had to listen to her obsess over him almost every day. Conversely, William hadn’t even mentioned Vilde since they’d slept together and, somehow, that was painful too.

You were standing in front of your mirror, inspecting your outfit for the seventh time that day and wondering if you should change. You were hosting a party at your house and, by the sounds of it; most of the school was planning on attending, which meant that you had to look stunning, or at least interesting. The top you had on was more low-cut than was normal for you, and the skirt was something you’d never imagined yourself wearing, but put together, you were feeling good. A faint tapping on your window knocked you out of your daydreaming and you spun around, clutching at your chest.

William’s smiling face met yours and you breathed out a sigh of relief, unlatching the window and stepping back so that William could clamber into your room with all the grace of a baby gazelle. You giggled as he tripped and scrambled to right himself, fixing his hair as he did.

He gave you a fond smile that made your heart pinch and pulled you into a hug.

“You ready?” He asked, with his chin resting on your head. You nodded and he let you go, taking your hands in his, “Let me see you then,” he said, scanning your body with his eyes.

You blushed, but didn’t move away. A muscle in William’s jaw jumped and his eyes hardened. It was a look you’d seen him wear countless times and it always made you feel a little breathless. When he looked like this, he was unknowable. He opened his mouth, ready to speak, when you heard a knock at your front door.

“Coming!” You called, shooting William an apologetic look as you darted down the stairs.

You flung the door open and pulled Chris into a hug, before turning to face the pretty, dark haired girl on his arm.

“Hi, I’m Iben,” she smiled shyly, “I’m Chris’ girlfriend.”

“Naaw, that’s so great, welcome guys.” You gushed, ruffling Chris’ hair with your fingers, “I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Come in, come in; you’re the first to arrive.”

Chris frowned as they followed you into the large living room that looked out onto your back patio.

“Really? Isn’t William here? He left before we did.”

“Indeed I am here,” Will answered, striding into the room confidently. He looked like himself again, and you relaxed, “I just don’t think than Y/N/N really counts you and me as guests anymore.”

“Fair enough,” Chris laughed, “Iben, I’m sure you know William?”

The girl nodded and shook his hand, looking nervous. You couldn’t exactly blame her, she was standing in a room with three third years who went way back, and who were well-known throughout the school. That would intimidate any second year.

“Did you guys tell the other Penetrators to bring drinks?” You asked.

“Of course, who do you think we are? Julian is bringing enough alcohol to feed an army.” Chris answered.

William put his hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. He knew how nervous you got before hosting a party, especially one this size.

“Don’t stress, we’ve got everything under control.” He promised, “You just worry about having a good time alright? The boys and I will make sure everything goes smoothly.”

You leant your head against his hand and breathed out, making a concerted effort to calm yourself down. This was just a party, it was just like every other party you’d gone to and it would be fine. The doorbell rang again and, as you welcomed in the floods of guests that were arriving, you sent a silent prayer to whoever might be listening. Please let the night go well, you prayed, please don’t let there be any drama.

--------------------------

“No, but don’t you think that we, as women, have a responsibility to not perpetuate stereotypes?” Noora asked.

You thought for a minute. You’d had quite a bit to drink already, but you were still sober enough to make decisions for yourself, which is why you were curled up on the couch with Noora and not out doing something dumb, like dancing on the bar, or crying over William. Both of which were pretty normal for you during your second year at Nissen.

“I think that, as women, it’s not our place to tell one another what our responsibilities are, you know? I mean, there are tons of women out there who want to be housewives, or who like wearing make-up and cooking and cleaning, just ‘cause that’s who they are. I think it’s only a problem when it starts to be expected of us just because we are women.” You answered, “Plus, we’re all guilty of being a bit of a stereotype every now and again.”

Noora nodded in agreement as Sana collapsed onto the couch next to you, looking mad.

“What’s up?” you asked, nudging her with your arm.

Sana rolled her eyes, “Vilde. She’s chasing William down again, as if stalking him is going to make him like her.”

You swallowed hard, torn between pitying Vilde and being horribly jealous, “Where are they?”

Sana shrugged, “I tried to tell her that it was a bad idea, but of course she didn’t want to hear any of it. Couldn’t you talk to her Y/N? I’m sure she’ll listen to you.”

You snorted and refilled your glass from a half-empty bottle of champagne that was left on the coffee table, “I’ve tried, multiple times actually.”

“And she ignores you?” Noora asked.

“It’s more like, she knows that I’m trying to be nice, but she doesn’t think William would talk to me about girls anyway.” You explained, “Which is ridiculous, because girls are pretty much all that Chris and Will talk about.”

Okay so that wasn’t entirely true, but you were annoyed with William, so you didn’t really care, and what had started off as a light buzz had deepened into something dangerously close to full blown tipsiness.

Noora and Sana laughed, “Boys are ridiculous,” Sana declared, “all of them.”

You nodded in agreement, “Truly, they are. If you girls stay away from boys, you’ll stay away from drama. Mark my words, everything bad that happens during your high school career will somehow be related to a boy, they’re pests.”

“Oh come on Y/N, don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Chris asked, appearing out of nowhere.

You shot him a look, “Don’t act all innocent Christoffer Schistad, you know that I’m right.”

The boy relented and nodded, shooting you an apologetic smile before turning back to the first years, “Listen to this one, girls. She knows her way around the block.”

You smiled dopily and nuzzled into Chris’ side, resting your head on his shoulder as he draped an arm around you protectively. The drinks had finally caught up to you and it felt like you were floating on a cloud of calm. Your head was pleasantly light and your body felt warm and heavy. The noises of the party buzzed around your ears like flies and you nuzzled further into Chris to block them out. He smelt like soap and something else that you were too drunk to recognize and it was comforting how familiar it all was. You’d always been able to rely on Chris. He made a questioning noise in the back of his throat and gave you a gentle squeeze.

“You alright Princess?” He asked softly, “Do we need to send everyone away?”

You shook your head, “William is off somewhere with Vilde, did you know that?” You said, the words bubbling out of you without your consent.

Chris looked confused but answered slowly, “Um, yeah I think I saw them together a while ago, why?”

You sighed, your head spinning but your chest feeling lighter than it had in ages, “They’re probably having sex right now, in my house too. How messed up is that?”

“Uh-“

“I mean, I know it’s William and I know he can’t help how many girls like him but, really? Can’t he just let me have this one party? Can’t I go one night without picturing him with another girl and just wanting to die? Is that too much to ask, Chris? Is it?” you asked as you sat up.

Chris’ eyebrows shot up and his mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to order his thoughts.

“Y/N,” he started, slowly, as if he was carefully choosing his words, “do you…have feelings…for William?”

You frowned, “Of course, I thought everyone knew that. See? That’s why it’s so unfair of him, because he knows how I feel about him and he’s still off somewhere sleeping with my friend, in my house!”

Chris threw his head back and let out a bark of laughter, his chest vibrating as he chuckled.

“Trust me on this Y/N/N, William has no idea that you like him, like, none. If he knew-you know what? I think you should just go talk to him.” Chris suggested.

“You know what? I think I will. He can’t just keep doing this to me anymore, no sir!”

Something in the back of your mind screamed that that was a terrible idea, but the warm haze of alcohol told it to be quiet and you stood shakily, swaying on your feet as your head spun. Chris held your arm to steady you and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Just-just remember that he didn’t know, okay?” he reminded you, “He really didn’t know.”

You nodded and gave Chris a lazy grin as you turned to stumble your way towards the back of your house, where you knew people had gone to hook up. If you’d been more sober, maybe you wouldn’t have gone, but you were angry and hurt and you needed it to be over, once and for all.

[folerdetdufoler]

hey there may i ask you something? how do you manage to stay active in a fandom that it's all about the remakes nowadays? its come to the point you have to specify which skam you're talking about which its ridiculuous cause skam is one and only, the rest are just remakes and in my eyes its almost the same as fanfics just in tv form. how you don't get discouraged? i'd love to hear your advice, thank u have a nice day.

mmmm, i guess i just ignore the remakes. i agree that they’re just fanfiction, and i do the same thing for that too. i have to block the remake tags on here and twitter, though it’s harder to avoid stuff on twitter because after a while people stop tagging. but if it’s not in my feed it definitely helps! out of sight, out of mind.

i’m not sure how active i am. i talk less to people now, mostly because i don’t see their posts anymore, so i don’t have anything to talk to them about. but there are still a few people who are creating nice edits and making silly memes and they get reblogged into my dashboard by other people. i don’t go into the skam tag anymore because people tend to tag their skam posts with remakes content (possibly to get more attention for it? idk) so most of it is blocked anyway. in terms of creating stuff myself, i kind of just watch the rest of the world for jokes or connections and apply skam to it, like that’s just how my brain processes things these days. i wear skam-colored glasses.

i do wish the remakes had different names just so things wouldn’t get confused, because i’m sure there are people who are watching the remakes who haven’t seen the actual show before, and they’re automatically shortening the title to just skam. i also didn’t like that a remake would use the skam name when it did something stupid. but it’s enough for me to just stick to my own naming system, where skam is skam and the remakes get their full titles to distinguish them (or joke titles to disregard them). it does annoy me when people say “skam og” or “skam norge” because it feels so unnecessary. skam is skam. it’s the remakes that need those country modifiers, because they didn’t bother with a more accurate title.

ahhhh okay that was more a rant than any advice. i’ve settled into the idea that the skam fandom that i love doesn’t exist anymore, so i’m just shouting my appreciation for the show into a void. which i’m actually a little more comfortable with anyway, because then i don’t feel like i’m forcing other people to have conversations about something they’re not interested in. but i’ve had people chat with me privately when they’ve found me, and we can still gush over the show together. everything is just on a smaller scale.