#cline looks good as fuck here too as always

[somewhere2start]

coming out as a mullet jj enjoyer

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

best game in the league

nico hischier x actress!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, not proofread

liked by madelyncline, charles_leclerc and 472,973 others

ynofficial: hot girl shit w/ jimmy fallon tonight

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fan1: slay bestie

fan2: you literally never miss

charles_leclerc: ferrari admin thanks you for repping

liked by ynofficial

fan3: charles?

fan4: i always forget they're friends

madelyncline: u make me question things about myself

ynofficial: i mean, if you ever need help with that...

liked by ynsuperfan, maddiebaby234 and 1,292 others

enews: Days after announcing she's officially off the market, Daisy Jones and the Six's y/n l/n and Glass Onion's Madelyn Cline spotted leaving the New Jersey Devil's NHL game tonight. The two have a history of flirting on Instagram and many years of friendship under their belts - could Madelyn be Y/N's beau?

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fan5: pretty sure madelyn has a bf?

fan6: y/n swings both ways but madelyn does not unfortunately

fan7: does enews not know what friendship is?

fan8: they always go to hockey games together lmao it's nothing new

liked by sukiwaterhouse, reneerapp and 592,163 others

ynofficial: 13

and no, enews, madelyn is not my gf (she's my wife)

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enews: interesting

njdevils: blasting red rn because of you

ynofficial: taylor's version?

njdevils: only ever taylor's version

fan9: i think that women-

madelyncline: ur my good looking girl

fan10: mommies

fan11: i need you to do vogue's 73 questions in your new house

ynofficial posted to their story

liked by ynofficial, charles_leclerc and 213, 186 others

britishvogue: a sneak peek into y/n's new home as requested...featuring a familiar face in a photo frame

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charles_leclerc: of all pictures ynofficial you have that one?

ynofficial: it was the only one i had where you didn't look like a goblin

fan12: the mat!! the mirror!! charles!!

fan13: they knew each other when they were babies???? I HAD NO IDEA

fan14: probably to avoid dating rumours :/

fan15: not yn out here having a frame photo of charles like a proud mum

liked by charles_leclerc and ynofficial

fan16: what if it's charles?

fan17: she said in an interview she still lives in america, and charles lives in monaco

fan18: they're completely platonic

liked by jhughes, madelyncline and 48,173 others

nicohischier: swipe for a soft launch

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jhughes: NICO??? I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING???

trevorzegras: dude you have the best game in the league

fan19: honey we agreed not to tell anyone

fan20: and another one bites the dust

liked by nicohischier, gracieabrams and 629,123 others

ynofficial: i might not do crystal meth in the bathroom but i definitely do a hockey captain

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fan21: OH MY GONWJ

fan22: i need to know if she's sober is she sober

madelyncline: absolutely not no

charles_leclerc: LMFAO WAS THIS SUPPOSED TO GO ON YOUR MAIN?????

fan23: icon behaviour

fan24: NICO???? OH

ynofficial: that's what i say too

fan25: fuck ok

jhughes: nicohirschier

nicohirschier: wOw she's hot

jhughes: you're just as wasted aren't you?

nicohischier: yah

fan26: literally how did no one get this???????? all the twitter threads and no one thought the reason she was such a devils fan was because she was dating their captain?????

fan27: GUYS TWITTER CRASHED WTF

liked by charles_leclerc, ynofficial and 123,862 others

nicohischier: i'm the captain in case you didn't know

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ynofficial: yeah you are

charles_leclerc: oh we knew

nicohischier: oops

ynofficial: wait this means people know i have feelings

nicohischier: feelings? ew

madelyncline: are we in fifth grade or something?

comments for this post have been limited

liked by madelyncline, sukiwaterhouse and 823,134 others

ynofficial: i'm a wag now, and as a wag i'm going to create a little (emphasis on little) list of things i've learnt over the last 2 years: if he bleeds he's not going to die, he might just need extra cuddles for a few days; fighting is BAD, it is definitely not something to encourage *wink*; nico will feel physically ill if he doesn't have a glass of orange juice each morning; roadies suck but the sex is phenomenal; jack is like our pet dog - feed him, give him shelter and love him unconditionally

also, i'm now gonna log off social media for a while because this is all the simping i'm comfortable with this month sorry

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nicohischier: am i a wag too?

ynofficial: omg you ARE

nicohischier: oh my god i love the wag lifestyle

_quinnhughes: i'm gonna frame that analogy of jack

ynofficial: i can send you a print i already did it

jhughes: rude

charles_leclerc: from one red guy to the other, can i be best man?

ynofficial: you can be my man of honour, madelyn's would be my maid

madelyncline: when is the wedding

fan28: WEDDING? WTF

fan29: i love how yn went from completely avoiding all questions about a romantic relationship and now she's hibernating because she's been figured out

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N = I've been on a really weird music kick - for me, anyway. Stuff like Otis Redding, Etta James, Solomon Burke, Bill Withers. And originally, I had Sanemi as the leading man. This goes along with For The Record a little bit in that the music is similar. I may keep trying to work on these damn things until I feel like I've gotten it right. Maybe I'll start a small collection or something where these older songs inspire me to write. Idk. Funny blip, I actually typed out 'Nemi at one part instead of 'Nami. Could you imagine? Living with both men, fucking Nanami and you say 'Nemi or the other way around. Sanemi and say 'Nami. They're so close. It's the perfect threesome. Hmm.

C/W = Sex. Overused italics. Spanking with panties. Nothing too horrific. But ... MDNI.

Sir 'Nami

You stood at the kitchen sink, mindlessly preparing the green beans you were going to cook with dinner. Your favorite mix, the one Nanami made for you, was playing over the inlaid speakers in the ceiling as you swung your hips from side-to-side to Misty Blue.

Nanami had good taste in everything; Clothes, music, cars, houses, investments. Right down to his toothpaste.

You were about halfway through the bag of beans when the garage door opened.

He was home at 5:19, just like he always was. Unless he had to put in some overtime.

He pulled into the driveway, ready to park the car away for the weekend, gathered up his briefcase and anything else he'd need and came in through the door to the side entryway.

You never cease to amaze him.

At first it was day after day, then weeks turned to months and months turned to years. Tonight is your 5 year anniversary and you still look at him with that same warm, sweet smile when he comes in and kicks off his work shoes for his house slippers.

He looks forward to it every evening. And he's elated every evening when he sees you standing there to greet him.

You act like newlyweds whenever you're together. In public places or in the privacy of your own home. Always kissing on the other, holding waists and hands, interlocking arms as the pair of you cross the street.

"Smells good, swee'heart." Nanami says as he stands behind you and joins you in the swaying. Turn Me On now playing softly through the air.

"Thank you, 'Nami. I missed you today, y'know that?" You said, turning around to face him.

He leaned down and put his head in the crook of your neck and took a deep breath in. "I'll never get over how lucky I am to have landed you, y'know that?" His arms wrapped around your aproned body; one around your waist, the other on your butt.

You pulled your head to the side and looked at him quizzically. "How you ... landed me?"

He kept his face in your neck, not bothered by the weird look you gave him. He didn't want to have to defend his choices to the woman he loved with all of his heart.

"Hmmm mhmm." He hummed. "You just have to accept it, darling. I'm the lucky one here."

Your arms made their way to rest around his neck, the two of you still swaying together. 'Crazy' by Patsy Cline, filling your ears as you stood with your husband in your custom-built home that he gave to you on your wedding night.

"I have to accept it, huh?" You said playfully as you nudged his face with your nose to rest against yours. "Well, you are the man of the house. Whatever you say goes, I s'pose."

"I may be the man of the house, but you're queen of the castle."

He untied the apron strings from where they sat at your belly and hung it carefully in the pantry. A place for everything and everything in its place, he'd always say.

"Whoo! 'Nami!" He scooped you up in his arms and carried you bridal-style to your king size bed. Laying you down so gently like you'd break any other way he released you from his hold.

"It's Friday, my love." He said just as calmly as he'd say anything else. "We have the whole weekend to do whatever we want." He kissed between the knuckles on your hands, looking up at you as his lips brushed your soft skin there.

You played dumb. "I - no, it's Thursday, 'Nami. You're losing your mind. Come, let me show you the calendar."

He pulled you back down as you tried to stand from the bed.

"Mm-mm. I know it's Friday. I have been living for this day since Sunday. Now," he began to nuzzle into your chest and kiss your collarbone, "what sort of trouble can we get ourselves into this weekend?"

He had the dress pulled down off of your shoulder by now. Licking little circles into your exposed skin before he kisses it all away and starts over.

"We could ..." he continued as his hand slid from your knee to your thigh so lightly it gave you goosebumps, "go to dinner?"

You scooted back a little on the bed, "'Nami, I almost have dinner ready to cook."

"That's right, that's right, darling, forgive my thoughtlessness." His fingers were squeezing the fattest part of your thigh now, his kisses trailed down further toward your breasts.

"Mm," you said, breathing a little harder now. "I - I don't know, honey. I mmm ... I might have to punish you for your foolishness." Your fingers found their way into his belt buckle and you started to toy around with it.

"'Nami, do it ... do the thing you do." Your face got a devilish little look on it as you tilted your chin and looked up at him.

Nanami stood and undid his belt with his right hand and ripped it from around his waist. How hard he already was became more evident as the seconds passed.

Now on your knees in front of him. "Please, sir, please give me your belt." You begged. You were ready for anything, even if it meant being submissive to your husband.

"I can do that, my love, but I think I have a better idea." He pulled his belt back up to his pants and tucked it into the pocket.

"You wanna know what I want to do to you, sweetheart?" He was pulling at the button on his pants now.

"Yes, sir. Tell me."

"I want to lay you down on your back," he said as he did just that. "I want to take my belt and tie your wrists together. And I want to take your pretty panties off and spank you with them."

Your mouth was open in anticipation. "Sir, please."

He pulled the panties from your waist and rolled them up to the top of his fist. "Don't worry, my love. I'll be gentle at first."

He tied your wrists together with his belt and then pulled the panties out from his fist.

"Are you ready, my darling?" He asked.

You nodded your head in agreement.

He brought the panties down on your backside with a loud crack.

"Oh! Sir, please. Again."

He spanked you again, harder this time.

"Mmhm, yes. Again, please."

He hit you again and again and again. Each time you would beg for him to do it harder.

You could feel yourself getting wetter with each slap.

He stopped after a while and flipped you onto your back. Your pussy was throbbing, begging for his touch.

He leaned down and kissed your lips softly, his hands tracing your body. He trailed his tongue down to your chest, leaving a wet trail in his wake.

His fingers found their way to your clit, circling around it gently before slipping a finger inside your folds.

"’Nami, fuck me." You said, trying not to sound as desperate as you were feeling.

He pulled his pants off and threw them to the floor.

His cock was rock solid.

He grabbed your panties from the bed and rubbed the head of his dick with them before tossing them to the side.

He lined himself up with your entrance and pushed himself inside you.

"Ohhhh, yes’sir." You moaned as you felt his cock fill you up.

He started thrusting in and out of you, slow and steady at first.

You could feel yourself getting wetter with every thrust.

"Ohhh, sir, please fuck me harder." You begged.

He picked up the pace and started fucking you faster.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes. 'Nami oh my fucking god ..."

He grabbed your tits in his hands and started kneading them, his cock still pounding away at you.

You were so close to cumming, you could feel it building up inside you.

"Sir, m’gonna cum. Please ...?"

"Go ahead, baby. Cum for me." He said as he fucked you even harder.

You came with a loud moan, your whole body shaking.

Nanami came right after you, his dick twitching as he filled you up.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily.

"Fuck, 'Nami." You said as you looked at him with a smile. "That was incredible."

"Yeah," he said as he kissed your cheek. "It really was. Thank you for letting me have my way with you, baby." He chuckled.

You both lay there for a while, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies.

After a while, you got up and started to get dressed. You had dinner to cook, after all.

As you walked to the kitchen, you couldn't help but think about how lucky you were to have a man like Nanami in your life. He was everything you could ever hope for. 

[adelaidedrubman]

MUSIC MONEY + WAY TOO MUCH WIP

i was tagged by my loves @simplegenius042 @shallow-gravy for music monday, thank you!

have been recently possessed to do some finishing damage to my spotify wrapped by working on the america’s sweetheart verse playlist, so here is track number one from that. sorry after so many weeks of no music monday to let everyone down by not having a hl&s fishing themed song to share, but it is at least still 90s country and my favorite kind of jestiny soundtrack feature: songs with innocuous upbeat lyrics that become extremely dark when actually applied to her situation

she used to tie her hair up in ribbons and bows / sign her letters with x’s and o’s / got a picture of her mama in heels and pearls / she’s gonna make it in her daddy’s world / she’s an american girl / an american girl / well, she’s got her god / and she’s got good wine / aretha franklin and patsy cline

aaaaaand here’s some america’s sweetheart actually dotting her letters with xxx’s and ooo’s. pretty lengthy excerpt, so reminder there’s always no pressure to read! also warnings for vulgar sexual banter and references to sexual situations, psychological and emotional manipulation, passing reference to retaliatory leaking of intimate messages, and jestiny catchall warning

Jestiny’s shoulders shook hunched over the table as her laughter deepened into low booms shaking through the flimsy walls of the trailer, half hugging herself as she looked up at Andrea with eyes bulging wide and gilded with a hot blaze of mania. 

Her laughter sputtered to a stop with a punctuating snort as her smile tightened and tugged to the side, her teeth digging into the scarlet painted plump of her bottom lip and a dimple sinking into her cheek. “Pretty fuckin’ good, right?”

“Good? Good? It’s deranged, Jestiny,” Andrea said plain and clear, lowering herself to sit atop the coffee table so that she was eye level with Jestiny. “You’re using a pen name to send sexually explicit love letters to an incarcerated mass murderer who kidnapped and tortured you. That’s the least ‘good’ sentence I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s like, a gag —” she replied with a wave of her arm and a few huffs of laughter that sounded far more strained this time. “Don’t you get it? I’m catfishing him!” She tapped her fingers against the pages in a short, frantic drumroll. “Did you know it was called that, by the way? Catfishing? Flynn taught me that. It’s pretty —”

“Jestiny, I fail to see the humor in —”

“And you know they also call it ‘phishing’ when they send you those fake emails that steal your password and give you a virus? It’s like, how do you fish with a computer —”

Yes, of course Andrea knew — she was the sender of most of the emails, anytime she needed to lock Jestiny out of her social media accounts. 

“Why the hell would you even want to catfish him?”

“Well, why the hell do people go actual fishing, for that matter?” she asked with a frustrated roll of her eyes. “Why do people put in the work of buying a rod and baiting a hook to catch something they could have probably saved money just picking up at the fuckin’ supermarket? Why do people do anything?’’ She shrugged. “I did it because I knew he’d fall for it.”

“Why —” Andrea asked with eyes still pleading for a real answer, because that might have been the closest thing she’d ever heard to honesty from Jestiny, and maybe not all hope was lost after all, “Why would you even want him to fall for it? What were you hoping to gain?”

“I don’t know, I —” she threw her arms up into the air; rolled her eyes more dramatically. “Build his trust up, then see how far I could push it. Maybe it’s one of those situations where over the years I lure him into confessing to a bunch of unsolved murders nobody’s pinned on him yet. Win an investigative journalism award and get a bunch of headlines about how brave I am for facing my own trauma to bring closures to other families, or what the fuck ever. Maybe I just humiliate him by leaking his Dear Penitentiary House letters to the tabloids. I’ll play it by ear.”

“So you started doing this — paid for a P.O. Box under a fake name in a city two-thousand miles away from where you live — without even having a desired end result in mind?”

“No, my end result just so happens to be a moving target.”

“And why would you catfish him with the name Gertrude Winston?”

She scoffed, easy and airy, the third roll of eyes once again softened to playfulness by a sweet flutter of her lashes. 

“Well what name would you have wanted me to use, Andrea?” she asked with a gentle, patronizing rise. “Would you rather I had fucking wrote him saying I’m Madison Hughetits — a happy and successful heiress and model in LA, until I saw him on TV and felt suddenly I would find it far more fulfilling to be a stay at home mom to a prison baby conceived from ninety seconds of under the table visitation room action?”

“I would rather you not write to John Seed at all, per —”

“He woulda seen straight through something like that,” she continued undeterred, tapping two fingers against her temple. “But a letter from Gertrude — a lonely older widow from Clearwater who thought he sounded very polite when he spoke to the judge and had sad eyes that made her wonder what his childhood was like?” 

Jestiny dropped the fingers from her head with a swift snap, swooping the hand down to jab against the stack of papers in the same motion. “That’s someone he writes back to. Someone he feels safe telling things to, because he thinks she’ll just feel so special he’s paying her attention at all. Someone he opens up to, because she’d never dare betray him. Gertrude gets results.”

Andrea’s jaw dropped, in spite of herself. Jestiny always found a way to shatter her normally unwavering professionalism. “You —”

“Now, of course, I did send him a few of the Madison Hughetits style ones, so he’d feel smart for seeing through ’em and let his guard —”

“You need help,” Andrea interrupted in stern command, desperately trying to keep a firm grasp on the reins of the conversation. “I mean it, Jestiny. This is…” She shook her head, gesturing towards the pages. “This is beyond the pale, even for you. You need serious help. Whatever is going on in that head of yours, you — You need to share it with a mental health professional. Please. You need help.”

Jestiny scratched her nose, rubbing a hand across her mouth as she scanned the pages. She looked back up at Andrea with two slow, owlish blinks of confusion. 

“I read that BetterHelp ad on the podcast just last week.” She tilted her head to the side, brow furrowing with hurt that looked oddly genuine. “Do you not even listen to my podcast?”

tagging my sweethearts @socially-awkward-skeleton @cassietrn @wrathfulrook @nightbloodbix @direwombat @inafieldofdaisies @g0dspeeed @shallow-gravy @roofgeese @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @afarcryfrommymain @poetikat @just-another-wasteland-merc @voidika @captastra @confidentandgood @belorage @deputyash @blissfulalchemist @shellibisshe @thedeadthree @nightbloodbix @ladyofedens-blog @miyabilicious @quickhacked @jackiesarch @v0idbuggy @orionlancasterr @stacispratt @8bitpizzacoupons @strangefable @henbased @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @corvosattano @strafethesesinners + like here to join wip day tags (or unlike to be left olone)!

[notmorbid]

the guest.

dialogue prompts from the guest: a novel by emma cline.

you've always been good at seeing things clearly.

compared to the city, this is heaven.

what are people seeing in my aura?

i have no memory of it, but it's possible.

things i touch start to seem doomed.

it's always best not to know too much.

we had fun, didn't we?

you're nice, in your demented way.

a date? an actual date?

this is real, you and me. or it could be.

isn't it better to give people what they want?

you aren't close with your family?

i'm no longer vulnerable to your opinion.

do you need anything, before i head out?

this is a convincing substitute for a life.

no problem is unsolvable.

who could be threatened by a girl scout?

people just want to hear their own voices.

certain places make you feel like all problems have solutions.

what would it take to get you to break character?

i don't really think it's that kind of party.

am i misreading the vibe?

there are many ways to keep knowledge for yourself.

i should've put on real clothes. shoes, at least.

do you have something you want to tell me?

we were friends, weren't we?

i think we've met, maybe, right?

my life before seems a million miles away.

everyone here has known me too long.

do you want a beer?

i'm a vegetarian, mostly.

it would make sense if none of this were real.

whenever i'm scared, i just make myself believe it's all a movie.

i actually like cooking. it relaxes me.

i'd rather sit in here with you.

you don't seem old enough to have a kid.

you can kick me out whenever you need to, really.

come sit with me. please. i'm lonely.

i can make literally anything you want. i went to bartending school.

who would want to fuck ____?

what do we think? good or bad?

i did something that can't be undone.

just get out, okay?

do you think it's not obvious, what your deal is?

sugar doesn't grow your bones.

sorry, i'm visiting. i don't know the rules.

i'm not even a grownup.

i have you. you're okay.

wait. are you feeling sorry for me?

i didn't feel well. i left early.

i'll bet you were one of those kids who never seemed young.

you're, like, really pretty.

people's unhappiness can infect you.

what's your accent?

i kind of wondered if i'd see you.

you don't actually care. you care about seeming like you care.

it's easy to be nice to you.

good to see you out and about.

where'd you go? i missed you.

is there some place quieter?

what bad things could ever befall you?

when you cover something up, it makes people look harder.

i'm gonna kiss you. yeah?

how come you don't tell me anything?

i wish we could just stay here and never go home.

most people never feel how they're supposed to feel.

i'm tired of you keeping tabs on me, acting like i'm a kid.

it looks worse than it actually is.

where are you? how come i'm all alone?

you can't just make this disappear.

it sounded true when i was saying it.

all is good. all is well. lovely, even.

you'll forget it all, with a little effort.

[whoiwanttoday]

Hey guys, looks like I am still on the Oscars. And still talking about @femalecelebrityoftheday , too. This is sort of a symptom of the Oscars, there are so, so many huge stars at the event and twice as many at the associated parties that it can be a week before pictures come out of some people. I have noted the looks of 53 different people so far at Oscars orbiting things. It's a lot. Decent Charli XCX pictures for instance have not really shown up anywhere other than her instagram. I am sure they'll come but she is close to my heart and an example of how this thing can have a life of it's own. Anyway, the night of the Oscars usually calm and collected @femalecelebrityoftheday was mad about the state of American clocks, in that we move them forward ahead of the UK. This is a fact I know, we also move them back after the UK, so there are 4 weeks a year when your mental math about, "What time is it in England" or in his case, "What time is in on the East Coast of America, as opposed to the time here in Scotland, which is not England!" is off and it can throw you for a loop. I often have in my head, "Oh, it's an hour off from usual" but then move the hour the wrong way, so I get that he was shocked the Oscars red carpet started at a different time than he expected. I think he was behind and trying to catch up but he noted that Fan Bingbing looked very nice. I agreed with him and then the next day he was like, "Have you seen pictures of her anywhere except tumblr?" I realized I had not. I was able to dig up some low quality stuff on various social media sites but somehow they were hard to find in any sort of quality from any sort of decent source. This is not confusing even if it feels unjust. I love Charli XCX but I get why she isn't first in line, I love her but a lot of people don't even know who she is. Because they are terminally lame. But Fan Bingbing? She's a major international star. I posted Deepika Padukone the other day and those pictures were not an easy find either. It's just interesting that both of these people are probably more famous in the sheer number of people who know their name then almost any American at the Oscars other than a small handful but aren't famous enough to get much attention from celebrity press. Which I guess is because at the end of the day, only American Eyeballs matter and Madelyn Cline is more likely to bring in young, American eyes than Fan Bingbing. Also, side note, now that I have willed the phrase, "Only American Eyes Matter," I fulled expect that to be some dystopian cyberpunk campaign slogan before my death when we all have robot eyeballs that beam commercials into our corneas. I am getting distracted though, I do that to myself. Well, I blame the Scots a little bit for making me notice things. Anyway, Fan Bingbing did indeed look very good. Very classic Hollywood in her elegance and her look but with some bits of home sprinkled in, especially with her viewing party dress. I am not surprised because she first of all is absolutely beautiful but second of all she has some of the best fashion sense in the world. I have always marvelled at how well she dresses. It's always distinct and unique and she looked great. So here she is, today I want to fuck Fan Bingbing

[taylorcline]

oh, thank you. she's about to open her mouth to say. the tour was her livelihood for the past five months. her baby. she was so unbelievably proud of it. but before she can, the air is instantly sucked out of her lungs in record time. oh my god. oh my fucking god. it takes a moment to register what's actually going on and what he's actually saying to her. it's like she was transported into a dream like sequence. where nothing felt real, where everything felt super hazy instead. taylor's adamant on steadying herself though and focusing on everything he has to say because she could so easily drop to her knees in this airport. he misses her. he thinks of her as his north star. he's a mess without her. oh, her fragile heart that had been through hell and back aches. his hand, his touch, the one thing that makes it known that this moment is very much real. his touch bringing her back down to reality, earth. i love you. i'm in love with you. and i've been in love with you since we met. since they met. since they met? if she would've known that at the time... everything would've been different. the era of her life where she deemed herself unlovable. of course she wasn't unlovable, she was just a kid. and when you're a kid, you think something's seriously wrong with you. but it wasn't. she was just a teenage girl who had the entire world's expectations on her shoulders and took everything to heart. it didn't make her a bad person, it just made her a teenage girl. but at the time, it was so easy to convince herself that of course he didn't love her. that revelation would've changed everything. but they can't go back and change the past. no matter how much time she's spent wishing she could. "you — loved me?" it's a soft question, still trying to find her voice in the midst of it all. because no matter how she thought this day was gonna go, it definitely wasn't this. "baby..." the blonde's free hand comes up to cup his cheek, her thumb swiping his tears away gently, her own pooling in crystal blue eyes. the name falls from her lips so easily, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. it was. "i love you. so much." there was something so sacred about looking into those emerald eyes that often dominiated her early songwriting and telling him those three little words and knowing they were wholeheartedly reciprocated. no matter how good it felt to hear those words from him after all this time, to say those words to him face to face and not through a song, fear was creeping in. fast. taylor was fully aware how insane her life was and how no one in the world could handle it. she's terrified that he'll change his mind when he gets fully immersed into her world. they always do. it wasn't like the last two times, no, fourteen and nine years ago, her fame was hardly scratching the surface on what it could be. right now it felt other worldly. the tallest mountain in the world, that's where taylor cline stood. "but taylor, i'm —," nothing you want. the first thing that comes to mind. too much. a handful. was that too harsh to speak about herself in front of the guy who was here confessing his love to her? probably. "not sure i can give you what you need. i'll be all over the world next year. i won't be home for nine months and i just — don't want you to have any regrets, okay? i know my life and i are a lot and it's not exactly mayberry," giving him an out. out of habit. maybe he doesn't want it, but it's there. it has to be. the white picket fence fantasy in her head was thrown out a long, long time ago. it's simply not possible anymore.

maybe his exacerbated state of mind post engagement — disregarded as dead on arrival as of the night before — was a perfect reason to blame for his impulsive tendency. alarm bells resounded in the confines of his dirty blonde headed skull. his former girlfriend was hours out of the last night of her us leg of tour, should he be at the foot of the airport doors, briskly trotting as if he were skating to beat the inevitability of the short window of time? absolutely not. not even a day before, his fiancée of five full years — together for seven — has ended the relationship on account of irreconcilable differences. however, deep within his soul he knew. those feelings that he bubbles up to the surface that he was certain were tucked away in the far off distance soon were banging on the metaphorical door of what was once shut off. maybe the past relationship was a sheer distraction from what he couldn’t seemingly run away from. to be rejected not once, twice but thrice? there was only so much tolerance the man could withhold. taylor abbott shouldn’t be this selfish. as long as taylor brooke cline was thriving and in a successful roll, why should he assume that he could disrupt it with his open wounds that were unable to be covered by the sleeves of his heart. his broken organ was still cracked at every weakness. that was just par for the course when the honey blonde entertainer crossed his mind.

palm clutching his upper left shoulder, the painful thuds of his ribcage ricocheting again glass bones that were at the wits end of wear and tear. he had placed all of his abundant time into a woman who simply wasn’t his match. and it was possible he would end these morning hours as the same way he did the night before: alone. if he could say his piece without regret, that was more than enough redemption to at least fall in with aligning himself with that sinking weight that constantly burrowed itself into crush his lungs. many nights were spent imagining the fantasy of what could be while dangerously outliving the complete opposite with taylor cohen goldsmith. of course, the media was eminent in framing him as a self involved hinderance to someday allow a potential pair of taylor abbotts in the world. as if fate were to have it, he had fallen for two women, both sharing his same name as a complete and utter coincidence. most often times, abbott steered clear of the eye-catching storylines that were simply created for fake clicks and petty jokes. in his true heart of hearts, the ingenuity was always there.

cut to today, his impulsivity landed him at the gate of the airport, searching for what he could finally lay to rest. at least at the feet of the one person he missed so immensely, it caused him discomfort to be away from her. forest green eyes bounced from one aisle of the building to the other, nearly stumbling over onlookers carry on luggage and strung electronic cords at charging bases. that was until, at long last, he spotted the deep midnight green t shirt that hopefully was filled by the only girl in the world he was tentatively finding. “hi, taylor,” the interjection filled with a voice crack that wavered so emotionally that he felt the brigade faltering as tears warmed at the corners of both hues. how confident he should feel right now and yet he felt the measure of about two inches tall.

it was her beauty, at any point — especially in that moment unceremoniously where it drew his breath away. his hand stayed placed at the beat of his chest, quickening in pace as each step he carefully pointed toward his costar. tay tay. the nickname ring like a melodic tune of pure euphoria. no one else in the entire world ever dared to call him so, as that was reserved for one girl and one girl only: taylor cline. “i — i wanted to congratulate you on your tour, and catch you before you had a chance to leave…” his words slurred in pace, collecting himself before inhaling a deep, syncopated breath that would last him. “i miss you, taylor. and i hurt when you’re not around. my heart ph-physically hurts knowing i’m not with you. this is so incredibly selfish of me, but i just can’t go on pretending that after all these years that i feel any different than i have for thirteen years. you’re my guiding light, my north star and without you i’m a mess. i’m just a fucking tragic mess. you have will always mean the world to me. and i felt like i had to get this off my chest so that you know. and i don’t want you to say anything if you don’t want to, i just need you to listen to me say these words and i’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want me to do,” tears began to shimmer in streams down his cheeks, softening at the sharp edge of his jaw, plummeting to the floor. carefully reaching out to take gentle hold of her hand, his unbearable shaking as his digits caressed the backside of her palm. “i love you. i’m in love with you. and i’ve been in love with you since we met. and i know that sounds so convoluted and cliche, but i think of our time on set as being the most natural and fun times i’ve ever had. you make me happy to be alive and i just you to know that…you’ve never left my heart. not on new year’s eve, not nine years ago, or any time in between then and now. you’ve captured my heart like it’s no one else’s. you’ve changed me for the better and i just had to let you know that i love you, taylor brooke cline. with all my heart, mind, body and soul. you have me,” he paused, choked on the words that were colliding from his brain to his mouth in record speed. no filter could satisfy this confession, laying all vulnerability on the line for better or worse.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬3

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death'; violence, attempted rape.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So this is for black Friday and then I’ll be working all today and tomorrow and schedule’s are super late so I dunno when Im working after that. Hope you guys enjoy and don’t hesitate to drop by my asks.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Arvin let you pick the record. You found it among the box of your daddy’s music. It was one of your favourites and you were glad he wasn’t bothered by Patsy Cline’s droll tones. He seemed to enjoy it as he sat and read a magazine and you searched for a button from your large tin to match that missing from Roy’s jacket.

“You ever listen to Elvis?” He looked up from behind the pages.

“I… I heard him on the radio but you know we haven’t got new records since Daddy died,” you said as you continued your hunt. “And Roy don’t like all that new music. He says it’s no good.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to like much, does he?” Arvin sniffed, “I always knew he was a grouch but I just thought it was the job.”

“He’s not… He’s just stressed. He works so much.” You looked down and settled on a button that was close enough. 

“You do too,” Arvin hid behind the magazine again. “You should be the one goin’ out and doin’ what you like on a Saturday. Hell, if he ain’t gonna spend his time with you, you should do something of your own.”

“I like sewing,” you shrugged as you threaded the button, “You know, it’s not so bad. I get time to myself. A lot of people can’t say that.”

“Sounds pretty lonely to me,” he flicked the page.

You were silent. You didn’t know how to respond. He was skirting around what he really wanted to say, what you didn’t want him to talk about. The tension in the air thickened as you feared he would admit that he knew or you might confess that your husband wasn’t much of one. Hell, you’d yet to accept that yourself.

Your fears were assuaged by the sudden clatter on the porch and the hinges of the door as it was swung open. You sat up and set aside Roy’s jacket. You stood as he staggered inside. He always did like to drink when he fished, or did much of anything else. You frowned as he tracked mud in on his tall rubber boots.

“Roy, you’re making a mess,” you said as you went to the doorway and watched him stumble around the entryway.

“Keep ya busy,” he slapped a hand on the wall and wiggled his leg free of a boot. “There’s a whole pail of fish out front too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed as his cheeks glowed. You doubted he’d be awake that long. “Well, I’ll just fry those up while you sit down.”

“Agh,” he tripped over his other boot as he slipped it off and Arvin brushed by you to catch him.

“Hey, Roy,” he took his arm, “How was the fishing? Why don’t you sit down? We’ll have a beer.”

“I almost forgot about you, boy,” he shook free of Arvin and ambled closer to you, “Maybe you can hide away after dinner for a while?”

He dragged his hand up your thigh and slapped your ass as he passed you. Arvin turned as Roy clumsily traipsed into the living room and fell onto the couch. He looked at you but you couldn’t stand to meet his.

“Sure,” Arvin uttered, “I’ll just go get those fish first.”

He disappeared through the front door and you crossed your arms as you turned to watch your husband. His head lolled as he chuckled.

“You think he ever fucked a girl?” He asked, “Boy tiptoes around like a virgin.”

“That’s crass, Roy,” you reproached.

“Don’t act so innocent,” he snapped, “If you didn’t, maybe I’d… well.”

His words trailed off and he closed his eyes. He yawned and sighed loudly. You grimaced and listened to the door as it hit the frame again. Arvin continued onto the kitchen as Roy began to snore. It must have been a record how quickly he’d passed out this time.

You went through to the kitchen as Arvin drained the water from the pail of fish. You went to the drawer and got a knife. You rest it on its end as you gripped it and looked out the window.

“He’s already out for the night,” you said, “You hungry?”

“I said I’d make the fish, I meant it.”

“Nah, I’ll flay them and put ‘em in the fridge,” you swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That you’re stuck here with us. Sorry he’s always drunk.” You looked down at the blade. You didn’t say what you really wanted to. Sorry you were stupid enough to choose Roy.

“That isn’t your fault and you know, I don’t mind it so much.” He neared, “We’re friends now, aren’t we? That’s worth it.”

You nodded but couldn’t smile. He always tried to make things seem nicer than they were. He was much better at it than you were.

“You comin’ to church tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he answered like it was obvious.

You turned away and laid out the fish across the cutting board. He stayed behind you, the record silenced and began to skip.

“I think I got somethin’ nice I can find.” He left you and the crackle of the Victrola died.

You slice the fish, careful not to cut your fingers as you deboned it and tossed away the heads and tails. You heard Arvin speak in a low voice and a grumble. Then heavy footsteps interspersed with lighter ones. The stairs groaned and you kept on, wrapping the filets in paper and tucking it away.

You cleaned up and washed the smell off your hands. The living room was empty so you climbed the stairs and found Roy face down on your bed. You turned to the open attic and Arvin descended the ladder.

“You got him to bed?” You tilted your head.

“Wasn’t so hard. Poked him a few times.” He grinned. “So what time do I needa be ready for church?”

“We leave about twenty minutes before service. It’s at eight.” You answered, “Oh, you know what--” You raised your index finger, “One sec.”

You spun and scurried into your father’s room. It was just as it had been before he died except now there were boxes stacked along one wall. You pushed open the closet and fluttered through the clothes hanging within. You pulled out the old grey suit and white shirt that had yet to yellow. You grabbed a tie from the drawer as you passed the dresser.

You smelled them as you went back to the door as Arvin peeked in.

“For church,” you held them out, “My daddy was a bit taller but he got skinny near the end. I can pin up the pants for you and you’ll look just fine.”

“Oh,” he face paled, “You-- I can’t--”

“Roy’ll never fit into these so please,” you pushed them against his chest. “And I don’t think he’ll be up in time for church so I need you to drive.”

He smiled and took the clothes. He hugged them as if they were precious. “Thank you. I’m gonna sound like you for a moment but you really didn’t have to.”

“You think I’m gonna forget that you promised to make the fish? It’ll be a nice Sunday night dinner.” You inhaled deeply, “I think that for tonight, I’m gonna lay down though.”

“Alright,” he let you past, “You have a good night.”

“You too,” you neared your bedroom door as Roy’s snores grew louder, “Might have to stuff my ears with cotton.”

🚬

As you expected, Roy was too hungover to get up for church. You didn’t really go for the sermons but your daddy made it a habit when you were young to make sure you got to see the other kids in town. Sunday school had socialised you in the circles of the small town but they had proven less than welcoming. And since you’d grown out of your education, you went to trade recipes with some of the other wives.

Arvin was awake before you. As you pulled a cardigan over your blue dress you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and he appeared from the front room.

“Oh, Arvin,” you smiled, “That suit looks real nice on you. And the pants…”

“I sewed them myself last night,” he lifted his foot, “Remembered a few stitches.” He straightened the jacket, “You look real good too.”

“Well, aren’t we a pair?” You chimed. “Gonna have to be since Roy hasn’t moved since you dragged him to bed.”

“After you,” he waved to the door, “Think we should get goin’. My daddy woulda whipped me being late for the lord’s prayer.

You led him out the door and climbed into the truck opposite him. He turned the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. You felt calm as you smelled the early morning dew and you looked out the window as he shifted into gear. The lush green grass passed you by and trees swayed as he steered along the old country road.

As always, the church was crowded. You and Arvin squeezed in at the back. He was quiet and sombre as you entered. As you sat, you looked over at him. His jaw squared as the preacher came out and began his weekly scourge. A fire burned behind Arvin’s brown irises and he scowled for a moment before his face went placid.

You looked forward and folded your hands as you listened to Father Milton. You never cared much for his talk of hellfire and brimstone, to be fair, your daddy didn’t either, but in a small town, everyone knew when one was away from service. Roy never cared what anyone thought but you had to deal with Noreen and the other ladies at the grocer or around town about their own tasks.

When mass finished, you stood but Arvin hesitated. He stared up at the altar before he finally rose. He nodded to you and followed you and the other worshippers out into the sun.

You heard your name as you headed for the truck. You stopped and Arvin did too. You turned as Noreen, a woman older than yourself who fashioned herself to be the model for all society ladies, approached you. She wore a wide-brimmed hat over her blonde hair and took short steps in her heels.

“You promised me that carrot cake recipe. The one with the raisins.” She said. “Now I’ve been hounding you for three weeks.”

“Oh, uh,” you unclasped your pocketbook and fished out the card you’d made sure to stow after last Sunday. “Right here. I’m sorry, Noreen, but I gotta get back.”

“Where is Roy? Was he off drinkin’ again? You know, the lord did warn us all against excess.”

“Well, perhaps we can get him to come next week and you can warn him,” Arvin intoned and Noreen looked over in shock.

“Excuse me. And who is this… man you have as your escort?”

“Roy is letting the attic out to him. They work together. This is Arvin.”

“Arvin Russell,” he introduced firmly. 

“That’s an unusual name,” Noreen remarked, “You’re not from here?”

“No, but from a place like this.” He countered, “I’m gonna go get the truck goin’.”

He turned without courtesy and marched away. You looked back to Noreen as she curled her lip.

“Oh, he is a rough one, isn’t he? You have that scoundrel livin’ with you?”

“He’s a good man. Helps around the house. It’s a big place and Missy Grable has a tenant of her own.”

“Missy Grable has a farmhand to tend the fields,” Noreen lifted her chin.

You weren’t certain what to say. Noreen always found issue with whatever you said and you hated to give her further reason to.

“Well, here’s the recipe. I really ought to go.” You said.

“I understand, honey,” She smirked, “Your husband needs his caretaker… oh sorry, wife.”

You flinched but said nothing else. Your shoulders dropped as you turned away and dragged your heels through the dirt. You opened the truck and climbed in without a word. You clutched your pocketbook and stared ahead as Arvin back out of the lot.

“Pardon my saying so and I don’t use this word often, but she was a bitch,” Arvin said. “Remind me why I ain’t go to church.”

You looked down and nervously unclasped and unclasped your purse. “You didn’t have to come.”

“No, it’s your house and I wanna be a good guest,” he said, “It’s nothing to do with you.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “My daddy hated goin’ too but he didn’t want me to be ostracised, you know? He told me, near the end, that he stopped believin’ durin’ the war. He said no god would let the things happen that he saw.” You leaned against the door and watched the buildings pass. “Seein’ how these Christians act, I can’t blame him.”

Arvin was quiet as you left the main street and the house began to thin out until the country sprawled out around you.

“My sister…” he said so low you barely heard him. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “My cousin, she was tricked by a preacher man. She was young and too willing to love. And he was just a liar. He knocked her up then refused her.” His voice was brittle and you glanced over as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “She hung herself but it was that snake-tongued charlatan who killed her.” He shook his head. “No god would take her like that. No god would let a man sworn to him trick the innocent.” He rubbed his forehead as his eyes bore into the distance, “I’m sorry. Just been a while since I sat in a pew.”

“No, I’m… sorry. Sorry about your cousin.” You said, “I didn’t-- You can stay home next week.”

He pondered it and a little smile curled his lips. “Don’t think I will. Think I’d like to see that Noreen again. Maybe say a prayer for her soul, wherever it may be.”

🚬

Roy was still in bed when you got home. You tried to rouse him and he swatted you away. You brought him a sandwich and some water and left it beside him. You went back down to clean up as Arvin sat in the front room, As you wiped your hands, the record player buzzed and a tune rose on noontime air.

You went to the living room as Arvin stood straight and you listened to the smooth tones of Sinatra. He turned to you as you entered. 

“I like this one,” you said. 

“Me too,” He had shed the jacket and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, his tie disposed of. He turned his palm up as he stepped away from the player. “You dance?”

You giggled and shook your head. “No, not much of a dancer. Roy wouldn’t even at the wedding.”

“Come on. It’s a good song.” He got closer and began to sing out of tune, “I get no kick from champagne. Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all…”

You shied away and he caught your hand. You let him draw you closer and smiled as your cheeks warmed up.

“Just follow my lead,” he urged as he moved his feet, “Don’t look down, just one, two, one, two…” 

You moved your feet around his as he swayed you and turned you on the spot. His hand settled on your lower back and you grasped his shoulders. You were jittery as you moved with him in time to the music.

“Arvin…” You breathed. 

“Every pretty girl should dance,” he said, “I’d say you’re a hell of a dancer for a beginner.”

“Thanks,” you trilled and settled into his embrace.

“I mean it. You deserve more.” He leaned closer and you felt his hot breath on you. “You deserve the world.”

You smiled as he gazed across at you. Your heart leapt as there was a sudden clamour by the stairs and you pushed away from Arvin as Roy stomped into the doorframe. His hand fell away from your back and you tiptoed over to your husband.

“Roy, you’re awake? How ya feelin’?”

“All this goddamn noise you makin’ down here,” he grumbled, “Shut off that dang thing. There’s a game on.”

You flitted away and turned off the Victrola. You looked at Arvin as he watched Roy. He looked irritated and repulsed by the man.

“I gotta do some chores,” you muttered. “You boys enjoy the game.”

“I think I’m just gonna go upstairs,” Arvin tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be down to cook that fish in a bit.”

You watched the younger man leave and Roy turned the dial on the radio. Your husband flopped onto the couch as the commentator’s voice filled the room.

“How about a beer?” He demanded, not asked.

🚬

The day turned to night. Dinner was quiet and tense. Roy didn’t drink as much as the day before but the alcohol made little difference. Arvin was pensive and seemed to lose himself in thought. You were nervous as you thought of the dance and your temperamental husband.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. It was just a dance. How come Roy could spend his days drunk and dozing and you couldn’t do anything you liked?

You cleaned up after supper. Arvin retreated to his room once more as Roy sat in the living room with another bottle and you tidied up. You cleared the last of the mess and looked out into the front room. Roy belched and sneered as he saw you.

“Wife,” he beckoned you forward with two fingers, “What did you do today?”

“Went to church. Cleaned.” You edged closer. “That’s all. I was real worried about you, Roy.”

“Were you?” He snorted and stood as he dropped his bottle on the table. “You didn’t seem too bothered when I came down.”

“What do you mean?” You stopped a foot away from him.

“You and that kid. You get on real well, don’t ya?” He snickered. “You down here dancing.”

“Just a dance, Roy,” you said meekly, “I didn’t wanna be rude.”

“You just wanna be a whore,” he snarled, “Huh? What you doin’ with that boy? I’m your husband.”

“I know, I know that, Roy. I never-- I didn’t do nothing.” You pleaded as he stepped closer. “I was just waitin’ for you to wake up.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he hissed as he grabbed the back of your head and thrust you close to him. “You been doin’ everything but what a wife is meant for.”

He tore open the front of your dress and you cried out. “I’m gonna fuck you and let that boy hear who you belong to.”

“Stop, please.”

“Stop!? This is what you promised me, dear wife.”

You struggled with him as the smell of alcohol on his breath made you cringe. He spun you and shoved you so hard you stumbled back against the couch. You got up as he ambled after you and were knocked back by his fist. You cradled your cheek as you fell onto the cushions.

He pushed you up against the back of the couch and tried to wrench your legs apart. You squeezed your knees together and slapped at him blindly as fear bubbled in your veins. He forced your legs open and knelt on the couch between them. He grabbed your throat as you tried to wriggle away and he struck you again. He never hit your face; he didn’t like people to see what he did to you.

“I’ll show you,” he muttered, “I’ll show you, you little whore.”

He reached for his fly but his face mirrored your shock as he suddenly stilled and for a moment, he froze in time before he fell back onto the floor. Arvin stepped aside to avoid the crash and turned to hit him across the face. Roy’s brow split and began to stream with blood.

Arvin struck him a third time and pointed the gun at his head as he laid prone on the floor. Roy touched the back of his skull as he stared up barrel. The whack from the butt of the gun would likely leave a worse lump than his punches.

“Get up and go.” Arvin growled. “Or I’m gonna smear this carpet with your brains.”

“Are you crazy? This is my house!” Roy barked and pushed himself up. The pistol clicked and Arvin pressed it to his head. 

“It’s her daddy’s house.”

“She’s my wife, boy.”

“You don’t act like no husband,” Arvin said gruffly, “You think I’m scared? Think I haven’t shot a man before?”

“Sure you have, boy.”

“It’s different. You go out and you hunt your bucks and they don’t know what’s comin’, they don’t even know when they shot. But a man, oh he knows to the end. He begs, even if he can’t speak, he does. It’s in his eyes, in the way he gurgles as the life drains from his lips.” Arvin kicked Roy, “And once I pull this trigger, you’ll be begging too but it’ll be too late and there ain’t no words you can say to stop the blood. So you shut up and you go before you can’t.”

You were paralysed on the couch. Your head throbbed as you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You trembled as Roy stood slowly and winced as Arvin followed his movement with the muzzle of the gun. Arvin followed your husband to the door and you heard the sharp whine of the other before it clattered shut. 

Crickets chirped as dirt stirred beneath feet and you heard the old truck shudder to life. The door snapped shut and locked loudly. Arvin appeared and lowered the gun. You stared at it as he came close. He set it on the table and sat beside you as he touched your face and you winced.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he pulled you against him, “I’m sorry he hurt you. I shoulda-- shoulda been faster.”

“Arv…” Your voice turned to a wisp and you let him hold you.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I got you now.”

[12yeahiminluvwu]

I Think He Knows

pairing - Drew Starkey x Reader 

summary-  a game of truth or dare unlocks the secret relationship between y/n and drew...

word count- 1036.

warning(s)- swearing? Talk of hand fetishes and choking lol. 

Another taylor song fic lol, what’s new? 

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

A long night of laughing, dancing, and goofing off with your friends had boiled down to a game of truth or dare. Childish, but fun. Everyone had done their fair share of crazy things so finally, you decided you’d choose truth. 

“Ok… have you ever written a song about one of us? If so, play it!” Chase asked and you felt the heat rush to your cheeks. 

You had written quite a few songs about one of them in particular… Drew. You guys had been dating behind everyone backs for a while now, and you being the total songwriting freak you are, had written multiple songs about him and the encounters you’ve shared together. 

You racked your brain, trying to think of a song that wouldn’t give too much away... 

“Uh, yeah I have actually! Uh… do I really have to play it?” You asked, avoiding Drew’s blue eyes staring at you from across the room. Everyone agreed that you did in fact have to play it and you sighed, getting up to grab your guitar. 

“Uhm, ok. Here goes nothing… it’s called I Think He Knows…” You said and started strumming the chords. Everyone waited in anticipation, already trying to debunk who the song was about. You could practically feel the smirk forming on Drew’s face as he sat there, waiting for you to play the song as well. 

“I think he knows his footprints on the sidewalk, lead to where I can’ stop. Go there every night. I think he knows his hands round a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it’s mine.” Your eyes scanned over the group of friends sitting around you, the pick you were holding brushing against the strings. 

“He got that boyish look that I like in a man, I am an architect I’m drawing up the plans, It’s like I’m 17, nobody understands. No one understands.” Cline’s eyes had widened as she began to put together who the song could be about. Your character in the show was the same age as Drew’s, but you had a line that went “I feel like I’m 17, dealing with all this dumbass drama.” 

“He’s got my heartbeat skipping down 16th avenue. Got that, oh! I mean, wanna see what’s under that attitude. Like, I want you, bless my soul. I ain’t gotta tell him. I think he knows.” 

You finally caught your boy’s eye as you sang the second verse, Bailey followed your gaze and realized who you were looking at. Everyone else was watching you play guitar, not paying any attention to who you were looking at. 

“Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh, we can follow the sparks, I’ll drive. Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh, we can follow the sparks, I’ll drive. So where we gonna go, I whisper in the dark. Where we gonna go? I think he knows.” 

The smile on Drew’s face was nothing close to subtle. Everyone looked around the room as the song came to an end. They all looked at each other as if to ask “is it about you?” When they all realized it wasn’t them the song was about they looked at Drew, who was already looking at you. It finally clicked for them.

“I knew it…” Cline said lightly before springing up from her seat excitedly. “You and Drew! I fucking knew it!”  The blush on your face grew at her confession and he laughed. 

“It took you long enough! We weren’t exactly subtle about it guys….” Drew said and you laughed. He came over to sit next to you on the floor and you happily accepted being pulled into his arms. He quickly placed a kiss on the top of your head as you snuggled into his chest. 

They all had their mouths wide open in shock, which made you giggle a little harder than before. 

“Yeah, I mean y/n literally put lines from the show in that song! It’s like I’m 17, He’s so obsessed with me and boy I understand. She was practically screaming it at you guys.” He continued. Chase and Rudy were the first to start bombarding you with questions. 

“How did you hide this from us for so long?”

“Why did you hide it?”

“Does anyone else know?”

“When were you planning on telling us?”

“How did it happen?” 

“Guys, guys calm down! It’s been almost 8 months at this point… our moms know, and it happened after a scene we did together.” You said, stopping them from asking you anything else. JD reached up and flicked your arm, making you look over at him with a glare. 

“We need more detail than “it happened after a scene!”, that’s too vague.” He whined and you laughed. Drew lightly brushed his fingers across your hip, his arms wrapped tightly around you now. 

“I’d had my eye on her since auditions, and there was always this tension between us. Then one day I approached her and we talked, went on a few dates, and here we are.” Drew explained and you rolled your eyes playfully at how nonchalant he was. 

“Well, I love the song and the fact that you guys are together! Y/n, you really know how to write a hit! Also, this just furthers my theory that you have a hand fetish…” Chase laughed and you blushed, hiding your face in Drew’s chest. It had become a running joke (that honestly wasn’t really a joke, because you did, in fact, think your boyfriend’s hand were sexy) that you had a total hand fetish after pointing out guy’s hands to Chase many times. 

“Yeah, I think we all know that y/n would let Drew choke her out.” Rudy said. You choked on your own breath and you felt Drew do the same as everyone laughed. 

“Shut the fuck up!” You said and Rudy only laughed harder. 

“Y/n’s sitting over here like “I want Drew to choke me but I think he knows…”” Bailey said and you shook your head. They all kept laughing, and you eventually did too. 

It felt good that they finally know the secret you’d been hiding for so long.

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

@afterglowsb-tch13

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Harvest Moon, pt. 5

Steve Rogers x Reader, Summer AU

A/N: Every chapter will have a designated song to it, so please take a listen! Will be linked below. I don’t own any Marvel characters.

Summary: For five summers, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes and you had been a trio; spending the summer at a lake with your families. While Bucky tagged along, there had always been a special bond between Steve and you. Every summer the lake had been something to look forward to until you stopped going and life moved on. Now as adults, Steve and you return at the same time, for different reasons. Can you rekindle that friendship or was it just youthful summer magic?

Masterlist

Chapter Five: (They Long to Be) Close to You

The bar was exactly how he pictured it would be years ago when he was 13, but what took him by surprise was Patsy Cline crooning from the jukebox – it was making him feel as though he was a kid again, walking by this place with Bucky and you; the three of you always trying to sneak a peek in. Or at least that’s what he was telling himself – the truth was, that song always reminded him of you. It was the same song you had made him listen to a long time ago, declaring it was your future heartache song. The song had embedded itself into Steve’s memories and he often found himself seeking it out in the most tiring times in his life – like after his first real break up and his mother’s funeral.

Bucky was saying something as they walked toward the counter, but Steve’s eyes wondered to the only other patron. It was the woman who walked by the cabin earlier, he recognized you and gave a quick smile in your direction before following Bucky to the bar. The two ordered drinks and decided to play a few rounds of pool, but every so often Steve’s attention would go back to you sitting alone. After the second round, he couldn’t help but say something. 

“That’s the woman from earlier, the one you said hello to.”

Bucky glanced up from his shot. “She’s here alone?”

“Seems like it,” Steve said, noticing that you were getting up from the booth. It was abundantly clear how inebriated you were by the way you struggled to stand still as you flung your bag over your shoulder. He watched with concern as you slapped a few bills onto the table and started toward the door, holding onto the tables and chairs as you made your way out. “She’s fucking smashed.”

“It would be weird for a pair of dudes to go after her, huh?”

Steve understood Bucky’s hesitation, it would look a little unseemly if they went after her, even walked her back to her cabin but the good intention was all there too. He looked to his friend who seemed to come to the same conclusion and nodded for him to go ahead. “I’ll buy out the tab and catch up.”

Leaving the pool table, Steve rushed out the bar and looked to his left and then to the right, where he saw you two stores door walking into the ice cream shop. He walked calmly passed the late evening crowd, a few families getting dinner in town, and came to the shop. Staring inside, he saw you talking to the woman behind the counter, you seemed agitated and the woman looked a little nervous. Throwing the little cautious he had left to the wind, Steve walked inside.

…

“You don’t understand, I need to see those photos, please.”

“Lady, like I said earlier, I don’t have access to them.”

Not even 24 hours had passed since your arrival and you officially had hit the lowest of the low – accosting a waitress over some photos…but it wasn’t just some photos, it was a specific photo. Tears welled in your eyes as you explained again, in your drunken slur, that you just needed one picture.

“I just need one picture, please. I can look for it, I promise I won’t cause any trouble. ” you cried out, fully aware of the audience surrounding you – the place was packed and even though the Carpenters was playing loudly in the background, everything seemed so quiet. The pain in your voice was evident and the waitress had a look of empathy in her eyes, but it wasn’t enough.

“I just need my picture back!  I just need it back, it’s the last time we were happy! Please,” you yelled, slamming both hands on the counter. The woman flinched and reached for her cellphone, but then someone said something behind you.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, she’s clearly had a little too much to drink next door.”

Lifting your hands off the counter, you turned to see the blond man from the bar; there was something so familiar about him – his eyes, but you couldn’t put a finger on it. It might have also been the fact that   the room was suddenly spinning. He asked if you were okay and if you remembered him from the cabin.

“My friend and I were sitting out when you walked by, we were also in the bar…”

“I just want my picture back…. that’s all,” you said, jaw unclenching as you turned back to the waitress. Shame was written all over your face as you quietly apologized and brushed passed the man to leave the shop. Outside, your emotions got the best of you and you began to cry – you felt like a child who had gotten separate from her family, lost in a crowd of strangers. Tears fell down your face and you stumbled over to a light post, holding on to it with one hand. It was getting dark; people were walking around. You wanted to feel embarrassed, but you had nothing left inside you, it had been that way for a while. Nothing made you happy, mostly you were just sad. Friends stopped calling to go out, work became mundane, even your own mother kept her distance – it was true, evident now, as you stood alone in a crowd of happy souls, drunk and emotionally gutted; you were a half empty girl.

“Miss, you okay?”

You looked up from the ground and wondered how drunk you were, because the face in front of you seemed to morph into someone you used to know – which would seemed absurd considering the man talking to you was about your age and the man you remembered would be much older today.

“Mr. Barnes?”

It was uncanny how much this man looked like Bucky’s dad, except this guy had much longer hair. In fact, you were sure he was one of the guys from the bar – god, everything was such a blur.

“Excuse me?”

You felt stupid and quickly apologized. “Sorry, I’ve had too much to drink and obviously living my best life. I…better go.”

“No, don’t go,” he said, holding back a smile. “You called me Mr. Barnes, no one calls me that. That’s mostly reserved for the old man.”

Your heart raced as you really looked at the guy in front of you and it seemed to sober you right up – this wasn’t Mr. Barnes but it was someone you hadn’t seen  in nearly 15 years. It was so surreal to be standing in front of the ice cream shop with Bucky, two full fledge adults.  

“Bucky?”

His face softened and he shook his head with a huge smile. “What are the odds, huh?”

Unable to hold back, you laughed and when he reached out for a hug, you held him tight. “Holy shit, I can’t believe this.”

It was strange because the last time you saw him, he was fifteen – you were fifteen. You gasped at the thought, as he pulled away, and before you could ask about Steve, Bucky spoke to someone behind you.

“Punk, you won’t believe who the drunk chick is.”

Turning your back to Bucky, you found yourself staring into the eyes of the man from inside the ice cream shop, the one in the bar that smiled at you and you knew then why you had felt at ease with him.

Your looked at him, nerves building up in the pit of your stomach so badly you would have thought you were having an anxiety attack. His blue eyes went wide as he too realized what was going on and as he stepped forward toward you, your voice cracked as you spoke his name.  “Steve?”

 .....

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[georgiafm]

            big  boobs  ?  what  ??  ummm,  chile,  anyway...  soo.  hey  angels  !  xD  fun  fact  ?  positions  has  been  on  repeat  for  like  4  days  straight  <3  i’m  c / cely  (  she  +  her  ),  whatever  floats  ur  boat,  i’m  a  23  yr  old  from  the  eastern  tz  who’s  110%  struggling  to  adult  properly,  and  i’m  rlly  not  all  tht  interesting,  so  let’s  move  on  to  The  real  star  here

p.s.  i  promise  i’ll  try  but  9/10  i  am  terrible  at  ims  😔  so  feel  free  to  hmu  on  the  disco  @simp 4 shawn 5ever#1305

chicago’s  very  own  georgia  ‘gigi’  madigan  has  been  spotted  on  madison  avenue  ,  with  a  striking  semblance  to  madelyn  cline  !  you  may  know  them  as  @gigipuffs  or  hitting  the  front  page  of  tmz  as  shamed  child  star  gigi  goes  gaga  on  pedestrian  on  broadway  street  .  according  to  tmz  ,  you  just  had  your  twenty-third  birthday  bash  .  your  chance  of  surviving  new  york  is  uncertain  because  you’re  irascible  ,  but  being  congenial  might  help  you  .  things  that  would  paint  a  better  picture  of  you  would  be  head  held  high  despite  the  sooty  markings  of  a  dirty  neck  ,  deafening  music  blaring  from  a  convertible  speeding  down  residential  streets  ,  cherry  chapstick  on  a  pouting  mouth  .  (  cisfemale  +  she/her    )

stats.

full  name  :  georgia  stormy  madigan.

nickname(s)  :  gigi.

birthdate  :  sometime  in  october  during  ‘97.  

zodiac  :   libra. 

sexuality  :  bisexual / biromantic.

hometown  :  born  in  dallas,  texas  but  moved  to  chicago  at  age  5  when  her  mother  remarried,  then  eventually,  nyc  at  16  after  her  step-father  received  a  huge  job  offer.

father  :  sullivan  “sully”  madigan--  retired  soccer  player  &  hall  of  famer.  now,  currently  lives  in  honolulu,  hawaii.  gigi’s  best  friend.  she  goes  to  him  often  to  either  whine  about  her  family,  or  laze  in  the  sun.  leads  a  normal,  modest  life  with  a  new  family.  mellow  &  altruistic. 

mother  :  gwendolyn  mayfair--  talk  show  co-host  (  the  view  reimagined  ).  was  miss  texas  in  ‘84,  then  miss  america  in  ‘86.  ambitious,  but  superficial  &  overbearing.

step-father  :  michael  mayfair--  sports  commentator.  basically,  sukie’s  second  father  as  he  married  gwendolyn  while  gigi  was  still  young,  therefore,  was  instrumental  in  raising  her.  was  once  sully’s  biggest  fan,  then  stole  sully’s  wife.  funny,  but  flighty  &  unreliable.

siblings  :  riley  mayfair--  half-sister.  4  years  old.  if  it  was  still  a  thing,  you’d  without  a  doubt  catch  her  on  a  toddlers  &  tiaras  episode.  keith  madigan--  brother.  27  years  old.  currently  serving  life  in  prison  for  3  counts  of  manslaughter.  a  painful  detail  the  family  doesn’t  talk  about.  it  always  makes  gwendolyn  cry.  it  makes  georgia’s  blood  boil.

occupation  :  host  of  one  of  the  most  popular  podcasts  in  america.

traits  :  -  irascible,  sardonic,  skeptical,  flippant,  scatterbrained,  tactless,  insubordinate.      +  congenial,  benevolent,  resilient,  individualistic,  waggish,  uninhibited,  candid.

character  inspo  :  pinterest.  viola  hastings  (  she’s  the  man  ),  maeve  wiley  (  sex  education  ),  miley  cyrus / ashley  o  (  black  mirror  ),  alyssa  (  end  of  the  fucking  world  ).

* 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞  :  georgia  madigan’s  most  scandalous  articles

sully  madigan’s  problem  child  throws  tantrum  on  set.

“  i  know  madigan.  nice  guy.  but  that  daughter  of  his  is  out  of  control  !  ”  director  leopold  lincoln  recounts  georgia  madigan’s  horrific  attitude.

racy  photos  of  nearly  nude  georgia  madigan  leaked  !

mental  breakdown  ?  georgia  madigan  attacks  paparazzi  !

meltdown  madigan  at  it  again  !  georgia’s  meltdown  with  boyfriend  caught  on  tape  !

disney  axes  contract  with  georgia  madigan.  is  this  the  end  for  the  child  star ?

ex  disney  star’s  fall  from  grace  *  tmz  image  of  a  19  year  old  georgia  on  her  hands  &  knees  vomiting  outside  of  a  nightclub  * 

why  no  one  in  hollywood  wants  to  work  with  georgia  madigan.

* 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭   𝐢.

when  gwendolyn  first  learned  she  was  with  child,  she  was  ecstatic.  she  prayed  &  prayed  for  a  girl.  she  daydreamed  often  about  what  it  would  be  like  having  a  mini  her;  pictured  her  in  pageants  (  dominating  the  competition  if  she  was  anything  like  mommy  ),  in  ballet,  getting  their  nails  &  hair  done  together  like  close  mommies  &  daughters  do.  

when  she  found  out  she  was  having  a  boy,  she  begrudgingly  accepted  it  as  her  fate,  but  vowed  to  try  again,  already  planning  her  next  pregnancy  while  still  pregnant  with  her  first;  a  child  she'd  name  keith,  &...  she  liked  him  okay.  the  first  born  always  occupies  a  special  place  in  the  heart;  but  she  wanted  a  girl.  keith  would  grow  up  knowing  a  subtle  kind  of  rejection.  the  second  time  gwendolyn  learned  she  was  with  child,  she  was  over  the  moon.  this  time  she  knew  it'd  be  a  girl--  a  psychic  had  told  her  so.  she  didn't  listen  to  anything  else  the  psychic  had  to  say.

* 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭   𝐢𝐢.

georgia  was  her  mother's  perfect  little  doll...  until  she  wasn't.  but  until  then,  she  dressed  her  up,  ensuring  she  only  adorned  pastels,  bought  her  lots  &  lots  of  barbies--  replacing  the  ones  that'd  turn  up  with  their  heads  missing  with  dozens  more--  forced  her  into  hosiery  &  leotards  while  the  child  cried  &  cried  &  cried,  smiled  through  the  embarrassment  when  she'd  sabotage  her  own  performances  at  pageants,  smiled  in  polite  agony,  face  colored  crimson,  when  she'd  pick  georgia  up  from  school  with  her  dresses  covered  in  dirt,  pigtails  lopsided  &  drooping  sadly.  this  wasn't  what  she  pictured  having  a  daughter  would  be  like.  

but  instead  of  letting  up,  letting  georgia  explore  her  own  interests,  she  pressed  on.  her  sights  eventually  set  on  the  silver  screen.  by  6,  georgia  was  crying  on  disney  sets.  by  10,  she  had  no  more  tears  left  to  cry;  &  what  would  be  the  use  anyway  ?  they  never  worked.  by  15,  georgia  was  acting  out  in  a  very  different  way.  her  father  was  gone,  driven  away  across  the  country  &  an  ocean  by  gwendolyn,  her  step-father  mostly  looked  the  other  way,  complicit,  her  brother,  in  prison--  gwendolyn’s  biggest  disappointment  &  heartache.  georgia  was  alone.

* 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭   𝐢𝐢𝐢.

by  16,  georgia  had  been  dropped  by  disney,  &  a  deep  depression  would  befall  her.  when  she  was  younger,  friday  night  lights  used  to  glint  off  of  warm  starry  eyes.  her  father  &  step-father  would  take  her  to  all  the  games  &  teach  her  all  the  happenings  on  the  field  until  they  made  up  their  own  little  game  of  guessing  plays--  up  until  there  came  a  time  when  georgia  would  always  emerge  victorious.  she  dreamed  of  following  in  her  father’s  footsteps  when  she  was  young,  but  now,  it  was  too  late.  her  youth  had  been  wasted,  &  she  felt  utterly  drained.  she  used  to  think  she  had  all  the  time  in  the  world,  but  adulthood  was  rapidly  approaching,  &  all  she  could  do  was  lament  over  all  that  wasted  time.

she  eventually  dug  herself  out,  some  time  an  ocean  away  from  her  mother  doing  her  good,  but  when  she  returned  home,  gwendolyn  had  replaced  her.  this  time,  this  baby  would  be  a  mini  her.  like  her  brother,  georgia  would  come  to  know  a  subtle  kind  of  rejection.

generally  easygoing  &  big-hearted,  over  the  years,  georgia’s  earned  a  bad  reputation  she’s  undeserving  of.  while  she  has  difficulty  controlling  spurs  of  anger,  said  anger  is  never  without  reason,  it’s  simply  exacerbated.  she  doesn’t  take  too  kindly  to  aggressive  authority  figures  or  injustice.  after  she  established  a  podcast  on  youtube  &  spotify  when  she  was  20,  however  (  the  subject  matter  is  some  of  everything;  football,  soccer,  pop  culture,  racy  content,  politics,  think  pieces,  philosophy,  she  even  hosts  people  on  occasion  to  keep  things  fresh  &  exciting  ),  people  were  finally  able  to  get  to  know  the  real  her.

[flowercrown-bucky]

Walkin’ After Midnight

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Modern!Loki x Reader, Modern!Thor x Reader, Loki x Wanda (Mentioned)

Series Warnings: Cheating, affairs, swearing, legal alcohol consumption, smut later on

Summary: What do you do when you fall in love? Embark on a clandestine affair with their brother, of course.

Prologue | Chapter One

Chapter Two - In which our unwitting lovers take a holiday abroad.

—

The first time you ever flew on a plane was just after yourself and Thor had celebrated your one-year anniversary.

It was a family tradition, you'd learnt, to visit their Italian holiday home (Or "summerhouse", as it had initially been described to you) in the summer months, typically in August. You were excited to have been invited, of course. Italy was beautiful, and this was a sign, you later realised, that the family had accepted you as one of their own.

You'd sat on the immense people-carrying jet sandwiched between the two brothers, practically bouncing out of your seat in excitement. Whilst boarding the plane, Loki had dashed ahead, thus securing the window seat, with you in tow, leaving Thor in the aisle seat, despite his heavy protests. You arrived at your destination a few hours later, and following an incident regarding the handle of Frigga's suitcase and Loki's toothbrush, you'd piled your luggage into the Jeep sitting in the car park.

Loki glanced at you as you fanned yourself with your hand, attempting to create a little breeze. He rolled his eyes, endeared by the silly gesture.

You'd become friends over the last year, the three of you spending a lot of time together. It wasn't uncommon to step into your flat and find the brothers with you, eating pizza or squabbling over the correct way to chop onions. Often, you'd get fed up with their bickering, opting to knock their heads together when they became too much.

He'd gotten over his little crush on you a few months after you'd met. He wanted you to be happy, wanted his brother to be happy, and he'd come to realise that he could be friends with you. He'd gotten over you, moved on, started putting himself out there a little. He'd been seeing someone, a little over a month since they'd made it "official". She'd met his mum, met his brother, but somehow he couldn't bring her to meet you. But nevertheless, he was happy.

Most of the time.

There had been just one moment, where he thought he could feel that same sense of belonging he had felt that very first time he'd met you.

It was a Saturday night, and he'd come thought he'd pop by your flat on his way home from his date. They'd set a time for a fourth date, and he was looking for some advice on wether it was the right time to suggest they head back to his flat for drinks and, well, fonduing.

He'd found you curled on the sofa, a tube of pringles on your lap and your eyes glued to the episode of The X-Files playing on the TV. You'd been a little surprised to see him, explaining that Thor was out with his friends, and was everything alright? He'd bashfully said he was looking for some advice from his brother, but that it didn't really matter.

Somehow you'd ended up engaged in an intense game of scrabble, squabbling over wether tnetennba was actually a word.

"There's no fucking way tnetennba is a word, Y/N." He'd argued.

"It is, it is!" You'd replied.

"If it's not in the dictionary, it doesn't count!" He'd waved the small book at you in frustration.

"It's only been recently added, that one is from five years ago!" You'd countered.

And so on and so forth.

You'd both gotten to your feet as you quarrelled, and at some point you'd started waving your hands wildly in his face, trying to physically as well as verbally express your point. Neither of you had noticed how close you'd gotten until you accidentally bumped shoulders. Silence fell over the room, the tension becoming palpable.

Your chest heaved with your heavy breaths, not quite able to bring yourself to look him in the eyes. You weren't sure why.

He took your chin gently between his fingers, lifting your head and forcing you to look at him. Your breath stalled in your throat as his other hand gently traced your cheek.

"Eyelash." His voice dropped almost to a whisper, a low rasp in his throat.

The door opening had sent you both staggering backwards.

The Villa was easily the most beautiful place you'd ever been. The modestly sized rustic farmhouse sat in the southernmost province of Italy, and you thought it was paradise.

The villa, with its white painted bricks, stone floors and wall climbing plants had most certainly captured your heart (Although the aged housekeeper, Elina, had not), but what had truly enraptured you was the beach. Less than a minutes' jog from the villa, you'd truly fallen in love with the immense dunes and rolling white sands.

You spent your days lounging by the pool in the blazing sun, drowning in sunscreen and Aperol Spritz, and your evenings swimming in the ocean, if you could drag Thor down to accompany you.

Loki, too was rather enjoying his time abroad. Holidaying in Italy always meant good food and good drink, and he'd always prided himself on enjoying the finer things life had to offer. He rather enjoyed reading in the shade, enjoying the continental heat without it burning his remarkably pale skin.

What he was rather not enjoying was the crippling insomnia the ridiculously hot nights brought. By nature, he liked the cold, was just fine in temperatures that had other hiding under eleven thermal layers. So, thirty degree nights left him sleepless and endlessly turning in his tangled sheets. Plus, the mosquitos bothered him no end, and the linen curtains he'd hung from the bedposts didn't seem a particularly efficient deterrent.

Sighing, he pushed himself up on his forearms and swung his legs out of the bed, stumbling to the window. He dropped his forearm to the ledge, leaning out of the window. The air outside was not much cooler, but the sea breeze offered a little relief.

A twig breaking made his head snap round. Were those footsteps he could hear?

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a dark figure scurrying by the pool. Slight, smaller than him, smaller than his brother. It was you?

What the hell were you doing?

Grumbling to himself, he pulled on the tshirt he'd earlier discarded on the floor, heading for the door. He couldn't just let you wander off, could he? God knows where you were going, or who you were going to.

He remained a few steps behind you as you walked. Eventually, he realised you were heading for the beach. Were you meeting someone?

You settled between the dunes eventually, stretching your legs out on the sand, staring out at the sea.

"What are you up to, little bird?" He said softly. "Do you have a tendency to go walking after midnight?"

You gasped, turning to see Loki's tall frame standing behind you, his dark hair almost glowing in the reflection of the moon.

"Loki." You replied. "You followed me."

He said nothing, opting instead to sit beside you on the sand. You had one knee hugged into your chest, your skin bronzed from hours in the sun. Your face, he noticed, was free from makeup, your hair pulled away from your face. It suited you, he thought.

You sat together in silence for a while, staring at the sea. The waves rolling and crashing on the shore was relaxing, and the sea breeze was cool on his bare skin. Your proximity to him set him on edge, unnerved him. He wasn't doing anything wrong, he knew, so why did he feel like he was?

"How's things going with, um, err.." You turned to look at him, your voice trailing off.

"Wanda." He finished. "Good."

You looked at him, his handsome face illuminated by the moonlight. Why had he followed you?

Neither of you had spoken about the scrabble incident. You'd thought it best not to, to ignore the tension and the angst that had built between you. But here, with him next to you, shoulder to shoulder?

"We should swim." You broke the silence.

"What?" He turned to you, incredulous, but you'd already taken off. Your footsteps were heavy as they landed on the sand, your top and shorts lying discarded on the beach behind you. He watched as you dived into the water, resurfacing not thirty seconds later.

Sighing, he jogged onto the sand after you, wriggling out of his tshirt and placing it on the sand next to your forgotten clothes.

Seeing where you stood in the water, he waded out, stepping carefully so as not to lose his footing, until he eventually reached where you stood just below shoulder deep in the cool water. Wet tendrils of your hair clung to your neck and back, the water gently lapping at the bare skin of your shoulders. He tried very hard not to stare.

"Beautiful." You murmured, gazing up at the clear sky above you. Where you lived, in the city, there was so much smog that the night sky looked as if it was covered in a thick blanket. Here, you could see so many stars you lost count.

"I know." He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from you. A rock slipped beneath his feet, causing him to stumble, cold water splashing out at your face. You squealed, turning around to spray him with water.

You played in the water for a few minutes, splashing, squealing and giggling in the cool water, almost as if you were children once more.

You looked incredible, Loki thought. Your bare skin glistened, a single droplet of salty water running down the soft skin of your neck, your upper body covered only by your bra. Your breasts heaved as you tried to catch your breath, and he tried very hard not to stare.

What was he doing? What were you doing?

Why were you doing this while your boyfriend, his brother, slept, unaware, in his bed? The bed you should’ve been in? Why was he doing this while his girlfriend was waiting for him back home?

“Loki,” You turned to look at him, the sudden silence uncomfortable. “Have you ever fallen in love with someone you shouldn’t?”

Yes, he thought to himself. You.

Chapter Three - Dream A Little Dream Of Me

[prettylittlehargrove]

Party Crashers

Request - Here

Summary - Billy and Mayor Clines daughter are in a super secret relationship, but things become a little restless and the truth gets revealed by accident... but not in the best way...

Warnings - Tommy being a bit of a creep lmao, Alcohol consumption, Mentions of underaged drinking, a small mention of drugs

Word Count - 2048 , I finally counted them yay!! x 

Authors Notes - This was a hefty one and i’m so sorry it was so late, ive been super preoccupied and I also wanted to make this to the best of my abilities and I hope you enjoy it! x 

Everyone in Hawkins knew you. Everyone.

A lot of people would think of this as some popularity dream come true, but in all honesty it was a nightmare. Any hope at a relationship was diminished due to a lack of privacy, even going to the store at the weekend people made a fuss.

“The mayors daughter bought meat? Does she hate animals?” Or “Y/N L/N caught smoking!” And your personal favourite “The Mayors Soon To Be A Grandad”. That was after a certain Harrington got caught making out with you behind his car.

That was another problem with relationships, you were constantly being set up with rich kids who owned islands and beaches. Steve was the most casual relationship you’d had after his parents started to cozy up to your father. Unfortunately that didn’t end on the best of terms, both of you growing apart romantically and only really wanting to keep in sexual contact till you officially broke it off.

But then he came. Sun kissed skin and golden curls, he was the definition of a bad boy. Someone your parents would hate the thought of you dating. Billy Hargrove.

He was the everything you’d been told to walk away from. But instead you walked towards him, and soon enough you’d formed yourself a secret relationship.

Making out in his camaro at midnight, down by an old wreck on the outskirts of town. Fucking in your bed at the dead of night whilst he held your hands. Cuddling up on his sofa whilst you got out of your mind high.

He was a rush of adrenaline in your boring and plain life.

Every event you went to, your mind would wonder to the way his hands felt on your body, or how soft his lips were.

Everything was simply divine.

Tommy pulled a flyer from his bag and waved it around in Billy’s face. “There’s a fancy ass party up at the lakeside mansion, and I’d say we crash it tonight, theres gonna be beer and shit, they probably do drugs too man, all rich people do drugs right?” He blabbed, a sure fantasy made up in his mind about some crazy party going on.

“Sure whatever, but you’re in the shit if there’s no beer k?” He chuckled, flicking his cigarette on the floor. His eyes gazed around the parking lot, trying to scope you out. Usually, he didn’t have that hard a time, your elegant stature and bounce in your step drew obvious attention towards you. Finally he caught sight of the familiar heels that clicked against the concrete.

“Y/L Cline man... fuck if I wasn’t with Carol I’d fucking-“ Billy elbowed him harshly and dragged his eyes to look at the rest of you.

“I gotta go” he mumbled, heading to your usual make out spot, the back of the school, behind the bike shed.

You did the same, waving goodbye to your friends to go ‘do some errand’.

Quietly, you looked around to make sure the coast was clear before heading behind the shed to meet with Billy.

“Heya Princess” he winked, his arms were open as he engulfed you into a strong hug. Squeezing you a little before pulling away. You leaned up on your tip toes and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

“Can we pretty please hang out tonight? It’s my birthday tmr and I wanna make sure I get to spend as much time with you as I can before I have to go to some shoddy event...” Billy sighed, remembering back to Tommy.

“I wanna so bad princess, but Tommy asked me to do something with him... and I’ve kinda stood him up like 5-6 times already, I’m an asshole but not a jerk” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek one last time.

“Well be safe and don’t get too drunk or high, because I’m not prepared to try and heave a 5,10 brute through my window again... mr muscles..” giving his bicep a quick squeeze. “Oh and before I forget, here’s your lunch... Maxine told me to make something with jam in it” Billy’s face lit up, food being something that always got him in a good mood.

“Thank you angel, and you can call her Max if you want... I only call her Maxine because it pisses her off etc..” His voice lowered a little in embarrassment and slight shame.

“Don’t worry, I tease my younger cousins all the time” you giggled, handing him his sandwich and giving him a tight hug. “See you when I see you, and I’m expecting a birthday kiss tomorrow!” You giggled and headed away from the spot.

9pm headed around the corner as Billy waited outside Tommy’s house.

“Thought your parents were rich as shit, why aren’t you going?” He muttered, lighting a cigarette.

“Not as rich as these fuckers... probably related to royalty or something.. gonna get so wasted tonight” Tommy chuckled. “So we sneak in through the back and head across the hall towards the wine cellar, and then figure it out from there” The plan was stupid enough, let alone Tommy’s fantasy that he was gonna get beyond wasted.

Your mother fussed around the house, dressed in a gown with her hair tied up and prepped. “Y/N! Why aren’t you ready? The party is in an hour and you’re in your dinner wear?” She scolded, heading down the hall, muttering something or other about how irresponsible you were.

In all fairness you’d completely forgot about this party, it was a small celebration by your fathers lake house. A few kids from your old middle school would be there, probably dressed in diamonds and crystals. Private school wasn’t your favourite place in the world...

Quickly, you shoved on a gown from your wardrobe and did it up. Your mother rushed into the room, pulling your arm to take you to her bedroom where she curled your hair and applied some makeup to your face. “Can’t believe you’re wearing this old thing darling... there’s a pink dress in there that I bought especially for this event” she huffed. So you scuttled off down the hall and carefully stripped yourself of the green gown, being aware that you had a full face of makeup and hair was sprayed perfectly into place. The pink dress was pretty and hung perfectly on your frame... a bit flouncy but still beautiful.

Finally you were ready, getting into your fathers car and heading straight for your birthday party thingy.

Billy heaved Tommy up the wall and over into the garden.

Tux on and everything. If he was to say so himself, Billy thought he looked quite handsome, might keep it on and surprise you later.

They both landed on some bush and wiped themselves down, climbing from the foliage.

“There it is, the lake house. These really are some rich fuckers” Tommy smirked, admiring the huge mansion, lit up with classical music coming from it.

“Right, but I don’t see any bear?” A low growl causing Tommy to twiddle his thumbs.

“Eh well maybe there might not be beer, but! There might be... ok truth is these guys have a daughter and I’ve heard that she’s hella hot so I kinda wanna see for myself ya know” Billy rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“You have a girlfriend”

“You don’t”

“Yeah I - I don’t” Billy stiffened up, remembering the pinkie promise you’d forced him to make.

“Right so let’s go get you laid, and then you can tell me everything” He smirked, eyebrows wiggling as he pushed Billy towards the house.

“Look man I’m tired”

“Bullshit” he chuckled, pushing him through the doors. The house was indeed grand, marble check floors with beautiful fluffy rugs and a glamorous chandelier hanging in the middle.

“Who the hell owns this place?” Tommy shrugged and dusted off his tux.

“No way... I think there is beer” The mischievous grin played on Tommy’s face as he spied a rather large old man swigging back some liquid.

You sat glumly with Sabrina, she chatted on about how ravish her private school life was and how perfect everything was going, something like that. Your mind wondering to Billy, how he’s probably high as hell right now without you. Everything was boring and dull without him.

“Dude! Let’s check out upstairs” Tommy grabbed Billy’s arm and hauled him up the stairs a long corridor of various doors facing them. A voice started to make its way up the stairs to, quickly Tommy shoved himself and Billy into the first door. They both stumbled and fell into the huge room.

“Holy shit dude... this is the chicks room” Tommy slurred, that clearly wasn’t beer that he was chugging back.

Slowly Billy took in the surroundings. His eyes focusing on a picture on the dresser. Was that him? Then it dawned on him.

Who was rich, had a lake house and was a chick? His girlfriend.

Fuck.

Tommy started to shift through the closet, grabbing a pair of panties and holding them up.

“Woah... she’s foxy” he was hammered.

“Give me those” Billy snatched the panties out of Tommy’s hand.

The voice that had been following them got louder. Quickly Billy grabbed Tommy and pulled him into the other side of the bed, forcing him to duck.

“So this is my daughters room... goodness, it’s quite a mess, I apologise she doesn’t-“ A loud thud cut off your mother’s words. She let out a screech as two teenage boys stumbled from behind the bed. One drunk and laughing, the other looking like a deer in the headlights.

And that very moment led to Billy sat in front of the very Mayor himself, you sat right next to him and Tommy sitting against the wall.

“He’s my boyfriend and I tried to sneak him in” you mumbled, fuddling with your fingers, trying your best to not get Billy into trouble.

“So you snuck him through the window? Look I don’t want to hear it anymore, you can’t see him again, and you boy, if you come near my daughter again I’ll have you out of this town fast” Your father was beyond mad. He looked about ready to kill.

“But dad-“

“She didn’t sneak me in, it’s not her fault, I just wanted to surprise her and I chose the wrong night” billy piped up, looking at the floor.

“Surprise her? Why?”

“Because it’s her birthday tomorrow and we probably wouldn’t have seen eachother on the day because you usually plan stuff out for her... so I came early”

“Without a gift?”

“Dad-“

“I don’t have much money sir but I do have a gift for her”

“What is it?”

“DAD?!” You squeaked, “look I’m tired of this, it doesn’t matter anyway, I love Billy but clearly you only ever care if he’s got money or if he’s some private school kid but I don’t care because he’s amazing and none of that matters” You sternly presented your point. Grabbing Billy’s hand and squeezing it.

“Fine, be with him but don’t expect to come running to me for comfort when he leaves you high and dry, and also if you break my daughters heart-“

“Dad... he gets it” you muttered, looking in Billy’s eyes. A small smile on both of your faces. Quietly your mother stood smiling to herself, rembering when her own father had yelled at her for dating some bad boy, turns out that bad boy became the mayor so jokes on him she chuckled to herself. History sure does repeat itself.

Tommy’s snores came from the back of the room.

“Dipshit wake up” Billy shoved his leg.

“Fuck off” Tommy grumbled, eyes still closed, Carol was gonna kill him.

“Langauge” you scolded both of them, taking Billy into the party again.

“I think we should head to your room” Billy whispered. You gave him a playful smack on the arm.

“We just got told off we can’t do that now-“ Billy held his hand out, a certain pair of lace panties in his palm.

“Why do you have those?!”

“Tommy’s a fucking perv” he grunted, as you both shuffled back into your room.

It was gonna be nice not to have to hide Billy anymore.

[whoiwanttoday]

The Critics Choice Awards were last night and wow was it an event. I was really impressed with how nice the red carpet was. There was a lot of competition to be posted here and I'll be honest, even the stuff that wasn't mind blowing had a lot of elements that made me go, "Oh, hey, that's really nice". It was an impressive event where just a ton of people looked great. Some of my current favorites looked great. So hold that knowledge as I tell you it wasn't even close today when I chose, it was always going to be Janelle Monae. She looked amazing, her dress was great, she is great and just... it's been too long since I posted her. I almost did after watching Glass Onion but went with Madelyn Cline instead. Not a slight against Janelle Monea, I just watched that movie with a lot of older family members and she brought up the same comment from like 4 different family members. The exact quote was, "That woman is absolutely beautiful. Who is she?" I would try to explain who Janelle Monae was. None of them knew who she was. It did mean that I thought about posting her but it turns out I didn't want to post someone who kept making me think of my Great Aunt in the moment so I skipped it. In general I haven't posted her a lot because I find her extremely intimidating. I was thinking about that last night when I saw that dress and I was like, "Man, she's so hot, why don't I post her more". Then I realized it's because she's like Wonder Woman. I have mostly, through most of my life, had trouble sexualizing Wonder Woman. I say this as a child who had a crush on a lot of superheros. But Wonder Woman was so perfect, just so elevated that she felt above such petty concerns. It's weird but it's like that person is on a different plane. Janelle Monea isn't even an actress really. I mean, clearly she is but that's not her whole thing. She's a musician. Yet she is this staggeringly talented actress. Of course, she's also a staggeringly talented musician. I flat out love her music, I listen to Dirty Computer pretty regularly still. And she just seems... I dunno, too good for all that. It's a weird thought but it exists sometimes. I am posting her today though cause man she looked good. She's just so beautiful. And she flat out won the Critics Choice Awards in my opinion. Today I want to fuck Janelle Monae.

[khh-writings]

True Friends - Part 9

As your mind had so accurate fantasised, spending the weekend in bed was your new favourite thing. Besides all the typical stuff from new couples, and you weren’t precisely thinking sex had been bad but quite de opposite, having someone around for so much time, hugging you, kissing you and simply talking to you or holding you while you binge-watched tv shows... Damn, it did feel great. You didn’t know you needed it that much.

Of course, you had done it a lot in the past, with your ex-boyfriends and even with your friends, especially with Christian, although not the kissing part. But it had been a while, and feeling understood and cared about was something you had almost forgotten. Not that you needed someone to be whole or something, but it was nice simply feeling that someone was there for you, that they would hold you if you fell.

Not having any brothers or sisters, Christian was always the one person that would come up like a hero when you felt lost or broken. He would fight anyone and anything even though you could fight them yourself, because “you are so much better than these people that they don’t even deserve that you waste a minute on them.” That’s what he would say when someone picked up a fight with you. And somehow It happened more than you would have imagined.

After Dabin left on that gloomy Sunday evening, because he needed to work the next day and be a functioning adult again, the house felt cold and empty. When the warm feeling that resulted after two wonderful days of being cared about and satisfied in every possible way faded away, nothing remained.

And even if you tried to avoid all the negative feelings, and you managed to do it for a while, they came out as strong as ever. You were confused, angry, and sad, and at the same time happy and calm. Could that even be possible? Such an emotional roller coaster was draining.

Not bearing the silence and emptiness anymore, someone came to your mind. It had only been a couple of days, but you missed him already.

“U up for a beer?” You sent in a message.

“Sure!” Cline answered almost immediately.

“Just the two of us,” you clarified. “It’s a date!”

“Won’t your boyfriend get jealous?”

“Let it be our little secret :)”

You threw on a pair of black jeans and your favourite black sweater, that had been with you since your teenage days and you hadn’t wear in a long time. You put your vans on and tied your hair up in a messy bun. You almost had a dejavú seeing yourself in the mirror, as if you were seeing a younger version of yourself, waiting for Ian and Cline to come by your house to play some games. 

___________________________________________

The street was dark and cold, so you hurried up, wishing to get a hot cup of coffee and a nice spot inside the bar for a change. However, the promise of spending a nice time with your friend was ruined as soon as you saw them outside.

You tried to turn around and go away, already thinking of the excuse you could make up, but Christian raised his head and saw you. He looked at you until you sat down with them, so intensely that you almost felt forced to look away.

“I thought this was a date,” you said in a cold tone, looking at Cline.

“How nice,” Christian answered, although nobody had asked him anything. “So it’s true. We are no longer friends,” he laughed bitterly. “Can you believe it, Cline? Because of a guy.”

“Fuck, guys,” Cline sighed. “This is so messed up. We ARE supposed to be friends, aren’t we? I thought we were over this childish stuff,” neither you nor Ian said anything. You just looked to the table, afraid of looking at Cline, feeling somehow guilty. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to lose neither of you. So... Work things out. Please?”

He got up and left.

“Maybe he’s right,” muttered Ian before taking a sip from his beer.

You were about to answer when the waiting came out of the bar.

“A cup of tea, please.”

“No beer, hmm, “ said Christian.

You looked at him for the first time since having sat down. He was pale and looked tired. Not much sleeping, you guessed.

“So you think Cline’s right.”

“I mean, You are in basically every memory of my childhood. I don’t want to lose you. The three of us have always been on the same page.”

“Yeah, maybe before, but people change.”

“Who changed?” He lifted his right eyebrow, as he always did when he was inquiring.

“You tell me, Ian. You’ve drifted apart from me, you’ve had countless of girls coming in and out not only your life but MINE as well. You don’t tell me anything anymore. It’s like you’re trying to push me away from you.”

He didn’t say a word, just looked at you. His eyes were fixed on you, but he had a blank look on his face. Then, you realised. And, finally understanding that what was going on was so obvious that only a fool wouldn’t get it was so hurtful and you could swear you felt something hit her on the chest, making you breathless. He was pushing you away because you loved him.

“Just tell me one thing. Did you know?”

He kept looking at you, now with pity in his eyes. But it was the kind of pity that you feel for someone whose life is destroyed when you don’t know them that much. More the type of feeling that results from knowing that it could happen to you, but when you can’t help but feel relieved because it’s not you.

And that look was what made you realise, truly realise.

“You were trying to push me away because you knew,” you laughed almost hysterically, tears running down your cheeks. “Of course. After all, if it seems so fucking obvious to everyone, why shouldn’t it be obvious to you,” your words were full of pain and sarcasm. They were like sharp blades, but instead of hurting everyone else, they hurt only you.

You got up. Your untouched cup of tea wasn’t steaming anymore.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well, good job then, Christian.”

Christian. Not once had you called him Christian. You had always said that Christian sounded too unnatural to you, that he would always be Ian, your best friend Ian. And of course, he noticed. One simple word that hurt him more than anything, because it meant that what you never thought would happen was happening: he had lost you. You had lost one another.

You walked away. And walked, and walked. And when your home looked too close you kept walking. People in the street looked at you, pitied you when they saw tears in your eyes, on your cheeks.

Why did everyone pity you?

____________________________________________

I’ll stop here for today. Gosh, everything’s so sad TT.TT Tell me what you think!

[masonsfm]

better late than never , am i right folks ! 

。· . ˙ ☀ ⌈ madelyn cline + cis female + she / her + the maverick ⌋ yo , have you meet that POGUE , mason sterling , yet ? — no ? well , to give you a little heads up before you do , they’re a TWENTY-TWO year old , FREELANCE PHOTOGRAPHER / BARTENDER , and have been living in coston for TWENTY-TWO YEARS . since i’ve known them , they’ve reminded me of GRAINY PHOTOGRAPHS DEVELOPED ON FILM, LIGHTENING BUGS MAKING THEIR FIRST APPEARANCE OF THE SUMMER, NOTES SCRIBBLED IN THE MARGINS, WHITE COTTON SHEETS ON A CLOTHESLINE, AND A MIDDAY NAP UNDER THE SUMMER SUN . usually they’re quite INTUITIVE & EMPATHETIC but just make sure you keep an eye out for them around town because i heard can be quite RESERVED & UNFORGIVING as well so here’s hoping they aren’t the ones to undo this whole peace pact they have going on this summer . but just between you & me , i kinda hope it all falls apart . the rivalry keeps this whole boring town interesting 

hi kids! i’m b and this is my sweet mason who is a lil too curious . . . a lil too stubborn . . . and prob shouldn’t be climbing trees anymore . i’ll tell you why in a minute .

BACKGROUND.

near the muddy waters of the cut, surrounded by tangled woodland, there was a two-bedroom house with a leaky roof and an old dog named arlo constantly snoozing on the front step. the sterling residence was nothing to look twice at, but it was home for the first eleven years of mason’s life. she lived there with her dad, matthew, and her mother, charlotte, and things were never quite easy.

mason was a save the marriage baby, a last ditch effort to rekindle love that was slowly fading to nothing... and it worked, for a little while. but as she got older and the novelty of a shiny new baby wore off, things between her parents got rocky again. they were constantly fighting over, well, everything, but money was the root of a lot of it. her dad worked two jobs and still didn’t make much, especially when her mom had a habit of blowing it on things that were far from necessary.

everyone in the cut knew it, too, the way the sterlings were falling apart.. mason knew it was bad when her friends parents’ started bringing it up to her, just checking in to see if she was okay. and she was, for the most part, until the other shoe drop and her mom moved out, revealing she’d been having a long term affair with someone on the other side of the island.

charlotte (mason’s mom) moved out and went full kook in no time. she remarried in a lavish summer ceremony, taking on two picture-perfect step children who were just a little older than mason, and beginning her picture-perfect life in an old plantation house turned mansion. back in the cut, matthew (mason’s dad) still struggled with two jobs and was rarely home, but if you asked, mase would’ve told you she was perfectly happy with that.

a judge presiding over the custody battle for mason, however, was not, and due to her father’s work schedule and lack of supervision in the cut, her mother was granted nearly whole custody of their daughter and at twelve, she moved to the figure 8 and, for five days out of the week, wasn’t allowed back on the rougher side of the tracks.

they called her macy and insisted she always wear shoes when leaving the house. she had a new room, a new wardrobe, and come fall, a new school. her mom signed her up for piano lessons and shoved her back into ballet classes, to keep her occupied, and without any subtlety at all began molding mason into the kind of kook princess that her older step sister was. one day she’d have a coming out party. she’d wear a white dress and take a knee on the stage as a debutant. high school would come and she’d be a cheerleader, a prom queen. her mother had what’s best for her planned out to the very last detail.

her only saving grace was weekends with her dad. she got to head back to the cut for two or three days most weekends, and there she could be whatever she wanted with her father’s full support. unfortunately, though, a lot of her friends noticed the prim and proper new clothes and the perfectly manicured nails. those who didn’t know better saw mason going full kook as well.

with the friends she grew up with slipping away, and the first year of a new middle school being an absolute nightmare, mason decided to give in... mostly because her father, whose heart is too big for his body, asked her to. she was macy, kook princess in training, taking after her older step sister and quietly doing as her mother said. she kept to herself, for the most part, ran through the motions with only so much as an occasional eye roll, but as time passed, it became more difficult.

she missed the cut. she missed friends that liked her for her. she missed having weightless shoulders. it seemed that everyday she was trying to live up to expectations her mother had that she could never meet, that she would never meet because they just weren’t her. so if she couldn’t be prim and proper, she could at least be pretty, right?

tw eating disorder, anorexia

early on, around the age of 14, she started to become hyper-critical of how she looked . . . and how it wasn’t reflective of this older stepsister her mom was in awe of. over time she developed anorexia nervosa, which took form in habits of rarely eating, at first but then progressed into compulsively exercising. it took a toll on her physically and mentally, and eventually she was just kind of the shell of who she used to be.

her father was the first to notice, and thus began a fight that would last two years between her parents. custody was called into question again, all while mason was in therapy and on a prescribed diet to get back to normal weight.

by 15, her father had accepted a newer higher paying job as a director the wildlife center, and he’d stepped back into the dating game. mason spent every other week with him, and her mental health seemed to only increase when she was back home in the cut.

by 16, a final decision was made, granting matthew full custody of mason after a judge took her health and wants into consideration. this was the same time that they moved in with the bauers , and none other than miss finley bauer became, after a little bit of a rocky start, the sister she’d always wanted.

things were good for a long while, and they’ve stayed that way for the most part. heading back to school with the pogues had its hitches, and there are still people who think she might’ve gotten a little too close with the kook side of things, but for the most part, mason moving back was a homecoming. she saw her mother every other weekend and on some holidays, and though she wasn’t made to be a deb, she still had to participate in a few things like midsummers and what not. this time with a little more of a mason spin on it, quietly causing a little trouble where she could. 

she did exceptionally well in school, and by the time she graduated high school, she’d saved up enough and snagged enough s

cholarship money to attend columbia university in new york where she studied journalism. she loved the schoolwork but sorted hated the culture of the city and struggled to find her place. sophomore year she had an ED relapse, but got through it with the insistence of her family.

she recently graduated from columbia with honors, and now she’s back in pogue territory with no idea what the fuck comes next. she doesn’t know where she wants to live, or even if she’s ready for the real world. with grad school and a big girl job on her mind, she’s preoccupied and lost in her thoughts a lot of the time, but she’s happy to be home and happy to be taking a year off to figure it out in coston.

PERSONALITY. 

mason’s got a quiet sort’a nature about her. she’s never the center of attention or the star of the show, and she doesn’t really care to be. part of that quiet nature comes from the unacknowledged lack of self confidence that still lingers under the surface, but most of it just stems from the fact that she was an only child or a misfit child for a long time, so she’s used to keeping to herself. quiet gives her the ability to observe.

that said,.. she’s a bit of a nancy drew type. definitely intuitive, definitely curious, definitely a little too nosy for her own good. it’s what makes her so good on the journalism front, her need for answers and her ability to act on a hunch. if mason’s gut is telling her something, it’s generally right.

she’s an introvert for sure but that doesn’t mean she’s... not friendly. she might not be the first to strike up a conversation, but she’ll hold it for sure. with a bit of a dry sense of humor and a straight faced delivery, she might even shock you. overall, she’s very sweet. very easy to be around.

being observant and intuitive really leans into her being empathetic in that she’s . . . good at people. again, you might not know it since she does a good job of keeping to herself, but she’s very easy to be comfortable around, very easy to spill your secrets to, very easy to trust. which is fair!! because she’s quite trustworthy

though she doesn’t give out her own trust so easily and that absolutely stems from her mommy issues

she’s quite .. .. unforgiving with that sort of thing, too. once you lose it, it’s gone. once you break it, it’s broken. 

super laid back which occasionally looks like apathy . . . but. that’s far from the truth

she’s passionate about a lot , but she’s not going to waste her breath arguing with someone who isn’t willing to learn or compromise.

fearless in a very quiet way like . . . the way i explain it is this: if a whole group was arguing ab who was going into a haunted house first, she wouldn't participate in the argument. she'd just kinda .. . blink . .. and then turn her flashlight on and walk in first

always up for adventure. that little shrug and ‘why not’ sort’a vibe when you ask her to do something is actually a hard yes from miss mason

level-headed as fuck, will keep you sound of mind in a fight

loves being outdoors, especially by the water

rides a longboard everywhere despite having a car

has broken her left wrist twice due to falling out of trees. still has not learned her lesson and will continue to climb trees bc it’s a nice place to sit and read ig chill out tarzan

super mellow. if she were music, she’d probably be a bob marley song

will answer your question with a question bc one: she doesn’t like talking about herself and two: she’s genuinely curious

honestly very smart . . . like clever as the devil and twice as pretty but book smart too . . .. good for her bc her mun could neVer

will not take help if her life depends on it i s2g this idiot could be sinking in quicksand and she’d be like ‘it’s fine i can gET OUT ON MY OWN’

freelance photographer, mostly for the coston paper

bartends at a local dive on fridays/saturdays, otherwise catch her in an ugly tennis skirt lookin uniform at the clubhouse serving old men shitty bloody marys and wishing she could commit murder when they hit on her 

loves her people relentlessly but chooses them very very carefully

did not like living in new york one bit lemme tell ya

always carrying around a film camera. always. 

writes in the margins of all of her books... and even in the margins of her own notes for annotation purposes

brain always running at 139871 mph which is why she’s in her thoughts a lot like she rly is just trying to sort it out

CONNECTION IDEAS.

childhood friends . . . that stayed friends even as she crossed into kook territory . . . and that didn’t stay friends and have since drifted 

the one (1) kook that prob welcomed her and honestly is still pals with her because there’s a genuine friendship there not just a toleration

a skinny love that was at it’s prime during childhood like these two were gonna grow up and get married, had their first kiss on a dare while sitting in a literal tree, old old friends that idk mayb they’re still pining because that like never went away!! or maybe ‘you’ve changed’ and now it’s uhhh.. different

an ex on the kook side would be a fuckin adventure especially if it was after she moved back to the cut and was like i waNT nothing to do with ANY of them . .. , except that one i like that one

an ‘enemy’ aka someone she just never clicked with and they’ve been at each others throats since high school

u KNOW miss mason sterling is all about her girl gang shit so gimme that

the brother she never asked for! never really wanted! but, begrudgingly, needs

ANYWAY THAT’S MASON!!! overall. . . .. she's mellow. v calm, v levelheaded, v to herself. observant and a lil nosy. fearless to a fault on occasion, and stubborn in her independence. loves her people, but chooses them carefully. shouldn't be climbing trees. uHhHhhHhhH hit me up on discord or like this and i’ll come bother u for PLOTS so we can get this thing poppin’ ok that’s all