#coke bottle arch

[jmpphoto]

Coke Bottle Arch by James Marvin Phelps Via Flickr: Nestled amidst a labyrinth of dramatic canyons, south of the meandering Kaolin Wash, you'll discover the breathtaking and delicately poised Coke Bottle arch. Coke Bottle Arch Valley of Fire Nevada October 2023

[xneens]

wasted summer - one

series masterlist

watching jj like someone else hurts, thankfully, you finds comfort in rafe’s arms … and his bed.

Music boomed in your ears, the party in full swing as you made your way upstairs, away from the guys smoking weed and girls dancing to Kanye West. Using a guest room on the third floor, you opened the window and crawled out onto the roof. With a drink in hand, you watched partygoers jump into the Cameron's pool, observing the party from afar.

Taking a sip of the cheap vodka JJ had gotten, you glanced at the blond, a frown on your lips as you saw him sweep Kiara off her feet, jumping into the pool with her. Kiara likes JJ, that much you know is true after she had drunkenly confessed during a girl's night out. Bitterness grew inside you as you watched him respond to her subtle flirting, praying desperately he didn't return her feelings but your own.

You look away, downing the rest of the cup before throwing it off the roof in hopes of it hitting someone. Hopefully either one of them, but they were still playing in the pool. Together.

"Littering on my property? Harsh." a voice behind you murmurs as he crawls out the window, sitting beside you on the roof. Rafe grins at you, bringing the blunt to his lips.

You roll your eyes, keeping them on him instead of the heartwrenching scene below you. "Like you haven't littered at my house before. Payback."

"So vengeful ever since you started hanging out with those Pogues." Rafe chuckles, offering you a hit off his blunt. You decline it with a wave of your hand and he shrugs, taking another hit off of it.

Glancing back at JJ and Kiara, you can't help the pang in your heart as you watch them play in the pool, splashing each other with large smiles on their faces. Sighing, you look back at Rafe, suddenly wishing you'd brought a bottle of Titos with you.

Rafe arches a brow, a smirk dancing on his lips. "What're you doing up here, anyways? Shouldn't you be hanging out with the Scooby gang?"

Not wanting to be in his eyesight, you lay down on the roof, staring at the night sky, the lights from the party polluting the starry sky. "I needed a break."

"From those dirty Pogues?"

You smack his arm, causing the blond to burst out laughing. "Stop bullying my friends."

"Bullying works," replied Rafe, shifting to mirror your position. He groans softly as he lays back on the roof. "Remember Agatha Haynes? She no longer smokes fifty cigarettes a day after you called her Hagatha."

A snort escapes your lips before you can stop it. You shake your head. "God, I was a bitch."

"You still are." Rafe dodges another smack, a teasing grin slapped across his face. "Still the spoiled, snobby, selfish girl you were. You're just better at hiding it now."

"Oh, and the hits just keep coming." You groan out dramatically, smiling back at him. "I'll have you know that I am very empathetic and care about other people's feelings.”

The blond shakes his head, taking a hit from his blunt. "Is that why you're hiding out from your gang of mutts? Because you care about them so much you don't want them to know you're suffering in silence?"

"I wish you'd suffer in silence."

"Woah, don't violate the thirteenth-year truce," Rafe replies, drawing out a reluctant smile from you.

Rafe was ... Rafe. Born with a golden spoon in his mouth, acted like every rich kid from Figure 8, only worse, and knew how to get his way. The only fight the blond had lost was to a coked-out tourist to who Rafe ironically sold the coke.

Most people didn't see that he could be nice when he wanted to. You always held it above everyone that Rafe Cameron had a soft spot for you, even if it only came from being his little sister's best friend. Still, it was nice to be one of the few people not to be on the receiving side of his hostility, a side Sarah was constantly on.

It was a weird friendship built on a truce made by four and six-year-olds. During your fourth birthday party, Rafe had gifted you with a promise to never be the cause of your tears and you promised to never cut holes in his tighty whities again.

After a few minutes of silence, Rafe turns his head to look at you, exhaling out smoke. "Seriously, though, why are you hiding?"

"Not hiding, taking a break." You correct him, refusing to meet his eyes. He wasn't completely wrong, you were hiding from your friends, specifically two of them.

"That's such bullshit." scoffs the man next to you, rolling his eyes at your words. "Tell me."

You groan, covering your face with your hands in hopes of hiding your embarrassment from him. "No. It's nothing."

"Tell me."

"Stop being nosy."

Rafe snickers, putting his blunt out before grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your face gently. Eyes filled with serenity, a sight only you and Wheezie ever got to see. "Tell me, you know I won't tell anyone."

Your playful pout makes his grin widen. "You'll make fun of me."

"Me? After our truce?" asks Rafe, throwing his head back in laughter. "Never."

After contemplating whether to lie to his face, you sigh, rubbing your temples. It couldn't hurt to tell him, it's not as if he ever told anyone stuff you've told him before. "Kiara likes JJ. And ... I think he likes her back."

An awkward moment of silence hangs in the air before Rafe inhales sharply. "Oh. I didn't realize you wanted to fuck the help."

"Rafe." your tone made him throw his hands up in surrender. Staring back up at the sky, you scrunched your nose. "I kind of like him. It just sucks a little seeing them so touchy with each other and flirting in my face. If they become official, then I'll literally be the only person in the friend group without anyone. I'll be a seventh wheel and that's so fucking pathetic."

"You're getting ahead of yourself," says Rafe, scoffing. "My sister found someone who puts up with her shit, you'll have an easier chance finding a boyfriend. If you don't like anyone, I'll volunteer."

You can't help but roll your eyes at his not-so-comforting words. "Thanks. You really know how to make a girl feel better."

The blond chortled, sitting up. "I'm serious. Anyone who isn't blind can see you're clearly much better than those idiots you hang around. The girls you hung out with were annoying as hell but at least they were better than those group of Pogues."

"How very Kook of you to say," you mutter back, not taking Rafe's words earnestly. Shifting, you sit up, eyes flickering back to the pool, immediately spotting Sarah and John B., Pope and Cleo, and JJ and Kiara still playing with each other. "I don't know, they probably don't care I'm not with them right now."

You could feel Rafe's eyes burning a hole in your face, his lack of insults to throw at your friends making you uncomfortable. Anything was better than silence when it came to Rafe. Silence meant he was thinking and you almost always never liked what he was thinking of.

He stands up before holding his hand out, gesturing for you to take it. "Come on, let's get you something to drink. It'll cheer you up."

You immediately take his hand, standing up. "Don't need to convince me."

"None of that cheap shit you've been drinking. My dad has some expensive whiskey he keeps in his study." Rafe adds, climbing back through the window with you right behind him. He doesn't let go of your hand, even after you climb back inside.

Rafe leads you through the swarm of people in the hall, heading towards the second floor for his dad's office. He pushes a guy away from the door, unlocking it and holding it open for you to enter. You step across the threshold, glancing around Ward's office as Rafe shuts the door behind him.

You'd been in Ward's office a handful of times, most times with Sarah and one time with Ward himself when you had skinned your knee riding a bike and he bandaged it up. Being inside the warm-lit room with Rafe felt strange and slightly tense.

Plopping down on the big leather couch, you watch Rafe walk towards the desk, raiding his father's desk drawer until he finds the big bottle of GlenDronach. He grabs two glasses, sitting down beside you as he pours the amber liquid.

You scrunch your nose at the smell. "God, I can smell the hangover."

Rafe smirks, pouring too much into both of the glasses, capping the bottle back up. "Nah, if anything this will help you sleep. It goes down smooth."

You take the glass from Rafe, wincing at the strong musk of the whiskey before downing half the bottle like a shot, immediately coughing after swallowing it down. Rafe's brows furrowed as he watched you slam the half-filled glass down on the coffee table, exasperated. "That did not go down smooth."

"It's sipping whiskey, you don't drink it like a shot of vodka." the blond clarifies, judgment and confusion in his tone. "Who the hell takes a shot of whiskey?"

Glaring at him, you cough out the burning in your throat. "Get me a Sprite, motherfucker."

An amused smirk dances on his lips as he stands up and opens Ward's mini fridge, pulling out a cold can of Sprite. He opens it before handing it to you, sitting back down. "I just witnessed a crime."

You gurgle half the can, soothing your burning throat before glaring at him. "I don't like the taste of alcohol, I just drink it to get drunk. Besides, people who actually enjoy the taste are psychopaths."

"You never miss the chance to tell me I am," Rafe replies, grinning as he takes a more moderate sip of his whiskey. He makes an approving expression, swirling the liquid around the glass.

"You can have mine. I hate it." You push the glass in front of Rafe, leaning back on the couch. Rafe sipped his glass of single malt whiskey while you drank a can of Sprite. "Worse thing I've swallowed. And there's competition."

Rafe makes a face at that, shaking his head. "Please, no details of how the help was in your mouth."

Smacking his arm caused a drop of his whiskey to spill over the side. "Stop calling my friends the help, you snarky asshole."

The blond gives you a look, setting his glass back down on the table. "Maybank helped me carry my golf clubs at the club last week. I can't think of a better title for him. It's in the name."

You roll your eyes, downing the rest of your drink. Rafe could carry his own golf clubs so you knew he sought out JJ's help specifically to taunt and mock him. "If I get the lifeguard job, are you gonna start calling me the help?"

His eyes softened slightly, head tilting towards yours. "No, of course not. You're far better than anyone else, even if you decide to get an unnecessary job.”

"Even better than you?" you arch a brow, watching his lips quirk up in a genuine smile.

"Always," replies Rafe.

Heat pools in your stomach, the whiskey's delayed effect. You glance away from Rafe's sharp eyes. Clearing your throat, you shift on the couch, making yourself more comfortable. "It's not unnecessary, by the way. The job. It looks good on my transcripts."

"Hm, still going to Charleston?"

You shrug, staring at the insurmountably large portrait of Denmark Tanney in Ward's office. "I don't know. My parents want me to, and I'll get into it but I don't wanna be so close to home, you know?"

Rafe's brows furrowed, a frown tugging on his lips. "Where are you thinking?"

"Either New Orleans or London," you answer, pulling a laugh out of Rafe. "Yeah, a wide range of possibilities for me."

"You don't wanna go to Charleston?" questioned Rafe, his eyes never leaving yours. A look of displeasure passes his face. "It's not that close, seven hours."

You make a face, shaking your head. "Seven hours is too close for me.”

The blond scoffed, leaning forward to sip his whiskey.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you observed him. Teasingly, you ask. "What, you gonna miss me when I leave?"

"I thought it was obvious," Rafe replied, downing the rest of his glass. He shifts on the couch, placing his arms on top of it, giving you a sardonic grin. "I think Charleston is far enough."

Rolling your eyes for the millionth time that night, you lay your head back, sighing. "You can come visit me anytime. Just don't bring anyone. Especially not Topper or Kelce."

"Ah, I wouldn't wanna walk in on you and your victims." jokes Rafe, patting your thigh softly. "Wouldn't be the first."

You laugh, winking at him. "Maybe you'll be my next victim."

Rafe raises a brow, leaning back slightly as he stares at you. "Don't tease me, I have no self-control when it comes to you."

"Yes, I think that was clear when you sent Tom Schnitzel to the ER for trying to drug me," you reply, inhaling sharply at the memory. You were positive you still had Tom's blood stained onto the white top from that night. "Thanks for that, by the way. I don't think I properly thanked you for that."

Rafe waves it away with a hand, standing. "Don't worry about it. I needed to get it out that night, anyway. Come on, I have something to show you."

Curious, you follow Rafe out of the office, walking down the hall to his room. He opens the door, motioning for you to enter. Immediately, you plop down on his bed, laying out on the soft mattress as he closes the door behind him. You watch him walk towards his dresser, turning around with a small jewelry box, a bow sitting on the top.

"What's that for?" you ask, taking the box from Rafe, and inspecting it.

He sits on the edge of the bed, eyes watching you fiddle with the box. "Your birthday present."

"It's not for another month."

Rafe shrugs, grinning. "Consider it your early birthday present, then. Come on, open it."

Tilting your head, you lift the top from it, the diamond tennis bracelet sparkling as soon as the light hits it. You gasped softly, taking the bracelet from its mold, watching in fascination as the diamonds danced in the light.

"Holy shit, Rafe," you mutter, inspecting the bracelet. "What the fuck? How much was it?"

The blond chuckled, taking the bracelet and unlocking the hook. He gestured for you to put your wrist out. "Real diamonds. None of that lab-grown bullshit. Don't worry, the cost didn't even dent my account."

You give him a look, allowing him to put the bracelet on your wrist and shake it as soon as it's on. "I told you before that I don't want expensive gifts from my friends. Just my parents."

"I'd like to think I'm more than one of your obnoxious friends," replies Rafe, causing you to give him a look. He snickered, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Last time, I swear."

"Highly doubt that." you turn your attention back to the bracelet, smirking at how it looked against your skin. "Thank you, though. It's really pretty."

Rafe stares at you, blue eyes watching you admire his present. "Yeah, beautiful."

You glance up at him, cheeks flushed from the whiskey and drinks prior. Heat pools in your stomach as your eyes meet his. Clearing your throat, you tuck your hair behind your ear. "Best present I got this year."

He smirks, laying his head down on a pillow, watching as you mirror his movement. "Yeah? Do I get to be your favorite until I piss you off?"

"Of course. I give it five minutes." you tease, grinning when Rafe smacks you with a pillow softly. You dodge his second hit, rolling closer to him, your arm pressed against his. "I was kidding! You'll be my favorite forever."

"That's more like it," Rafe says, a satisfied grin slapped across his face.

You groan softly, rolling onto your side to face the blond, eyes closing. The party was still going on downstairs, the loud thumping of the music heard two stories up. Your mind briefly flickered to what was happening with JJ and Kiara until Rafe's fingers ghosted over your side.

"I swear to god if you're gonna tickle me, Cameron," you grumble, eyes still closed, feeling his fingers roam around until they hit your stomach.

Rafe chuckles quietly, fingers stroking the ribcage tattoo you had gotten with Sarah. "When did you get this?"

"A week ago." you giggle as he runs his fingers up, touching your neck. Your eyes snapped open and you immediately slap his hand away, your brand new bracelet swinging slightly from the movement. "Rafe. You know how ticklish I am."

"Sorry," he smirks, tone unapologetic. His hand drifts to your hips, fingers playing with your cutoff shorts. "Wouldn't want a repeat of the Jenga incident."

Your nose scrunches at that, remembering the night you spent at the ER. "It was an accident."

"Still sticking to that story?"

"You moved your head."

"You threw a glass at my head." Rafe corrected, a smile tugging the corner of his lips up.

Scowling at him, you shake your head. "No, I threw it at the wall behind you. You moved your head at the last second and had to get five stitches."

"If you weren't so fucking competitive ..." Rafe teases, trailing off.

You bite your tongue, letting the subject go with great difficulty, but managing to not bite back. Closing your eyes again, you let your muscles alleviate. "Hm. Whatever."

You both lay in silence for a few minutes, the alcohol in your system and Rafe's soft bed allowing you to relax despite the loud music creeping through the walls. Despite feeling his eyes on you, you felt your body intense, the bed cradling you.

Rafe's hand drifts slowly up your hip, fingertips softly brushing against the sliver of bare stomach before slipping slightly under the hem of your top. Your eyes flutter up at the movement, watching as his thumb draws circles on your skin.

Goosebumps arise, and you suddenly realize how close he is, not even a foot away. His eyes flickered to your lips, his tongue peeking out to wetten his own. Your breath gets caught in your throat, his face somehow closer now.

Maybe it was the alcohol you've consumed trying to forget your own despair or an excuse to get your mind off JJ and Kiara, but you watched as Rafe brought his lips to yours, not pulling back when the taste of whiskey invades your mouth.

A hand caressing your cheek, Rafe rolled over on top of you, his elbows holding up his weight as he kissed you. His tongue sought entry to your mouth, biting your bottom lip. You gasped slightly at the feel, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You melt into his touch, your lips parting slightly as Rafe's tongue sweeps in.

Rafe breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, leaving a string of soft kisses along your collarbone. Tilting your head back, you give him better access, running your hands through his hair, a soft content sigh escaping your lips.

He nips at your collarbones before sucking a mark into your skin, just right above your breast causing you to mewl at the touch, your hands drifting to his shoulders, freshly manicured nails digging into his skin. You meet his eyes, his ocean blues now darkened like the water during a storm.

Something comes over your body, seeing Rafe in a new light. Suddenly needy and impatient, your hands tugged at the hem of Rafe's black polo, pleading silently for him to take it off. Taking your hint, he sits up, taking it off in one swift move, tossing it on the floor.

You'd never admit it, not even to Rafe–especially to Rafe, but you'd always loved his abs. The definition of the, so toned, tanned, and delectable. He may have been your friend, but you weren't blind to his looks, and definitely how his abs looked when he flexed them.

As your fingers traced the defined line down his stomach, Rafe's hands slid under your top until the tips of his fingers met the fabric of your bikini top. Needing more, a lot more, you sit up, ridding yourself of the offensive clothing. You heard Rafe groan, pushing you back onto the bed, eyes roaming the sight of the hot pink bikini top you still wore, the top so little it was hardly covering your nipples.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmured, reaching out and pulling off the top quickly, the thin string breaking at the force, your tits spilling out. You gasped, nipples hardening in the cold air. Rafe groaned at the sight, hands cupping your breasts, his breath hitting your nipples. "Fucking incredible."

You arched your back, moaning softly as his tongue wettens a nipple before taking it into his mouth. His teeth nibble it, sucking and teasing the hard bud while his fingers play with the other, rolling it between his fingers. Rafe pinches it gently, looking up at you with a smirk when you mewl.

Running your hands over Rafe's back, you feel the warmth and firmness of his muscles, wetness pooling at the thought of kissing every single inch of his torso. Before he could take the other nipple into his mouth, you pull his lips back to yours, wrapping an arm around his neck as a hand runs down his back, nails scratching his spine.

Rafe's hand moves down your sides, fingers playing with the button of your shorts. Pulling back from the kiss, he unbuttoned your shorts, slowly–and agonizingly–sliding them off. The cutoffs pile onto his shirt on the floor.

You know Rafe's experienced, so are you, but you swore he almost looked nervous as he stared down at you, his hands slightly shaky as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your matching pink thong. Those join the discarded clothing on his bedroom floor.

He looks like a man starved as his eyes focus on your bare cunt, hungry and almost animalistic as he leans closer to your glistening pussy, nose nearly touching the clit. "You're already so wet."

Instinctively, you spread your legs wider, hands grasping the sheets as his finger leisurely dips into your wet pussy, your lips parting slightly. His thumb touches your clit, rubbing it gently. You groan, hips bucking at the feel, needing more. "Fuck."

Rafe smirks, pushing a finger into your cunt, watching as your face contorted in pleasure. He adds a second before you could come down from the small high. "Look at you, so needy and desperate."

Before you could think of a retort, he leans down to replace his thumb with his tongue, licking and sucking at your clit as his fingers continue to thrust inside you, gaining speed. The sight of Rafe's head between your legs, his tongue flicking your clit was so erotic, the vision enough for you to get wetter. You throw your head back, your fingers tangling in Rafe's hair as you pull his head closer to your dripping pussy, a moan filling the room.

His fingers hit that spot inside you, causing a surprise whimper from your lips to escape. Rafe pauses, glancing up at you, pride in his eyes before he doubles his efforts, his fingers curling to reach that spot. He sucks your clit, nibbling it when you tug his hair.

"Rafe," you moan, arching your back. You push his head deeper between your thighs, pussy clenching around his fingers, so close to falling off. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"That's right, say my fucking name when you cum on my fingers," Rafe grunted, his fingers plunging in and out of your soaking wet cunt. He licks your clit, staring up as you come closer.

A dripping mess, you buck your hips up as Rafe continues his relentless actions on your pussy, moans of pleasure filling the room. His free hand moves up your torso, cupping your breast before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

You lose it when he pinches it harshly, moaning loudly as you come undone, pussy clenching around his fingers, throbbing. You whimper out his name, your hand gripping his hair. "Fuck!"

Rafe laps it all up, replacing his fingers with his tongue, hands holding your legs open as you attempt to close them, your clit sensitive. He runs his tongue along your pussy, lapping up your juices, groaning at the taste, unable to pull himself away.

He licks his lips, staring possessively at your cunt before looking up at you with a proud smile. "You taste so fucking good."

He then proves it to you, lips meeting yours in a kiss. You taste yourself on him as you kiss him back, lips moving against each other. As you come down from the high, you roll him over, straddling his torso. You move your lips to his neck, marking it until you kiss down his chest. Meeting his eyes, you run your tongue down his abs, kissing every individual one.

You move to straddle his legs, quickly unbuttoning his pants, much opposite of his agonizingly slow approach. Rafe lifts his hips, helping you take off his jeans, sitting up to pull you in for another kiss. Giggling, you push him back onto the bed, your fingers sliding underneath the band of his boxers.

You bite your lip as you take out his cock, your hand wrapping around it immediately. The size of it made your mouth water, licking your lips in anticipation as you stroked it slowly causing Rafe to groan. With an approving hum, you lick the tip, meeting Rafe's hungry gaze.

Smirking, you run your tongue along the length of it, pulling back when Rafe bucks his hips up, glaring at you for teasing him. Chuckling, you decide to end the shortlived torture, taking his cock into your mouth, your warm, wet lips wrapping around his cock.

He groans, fingers pulling at your hair, guiding your movements, and urging you to take more of him. The sight of your soft, pink lips wrapped around his cock was something he'd never forget. "That's it, baby. Suck my dick like a good slut."

You felt your pussy clench at his words, growing wetter as you suck him off, eagerly bobbing your head up and down his dick. Pre-cum drips onto your tongue and you savor the taste, moaning around his cock, Rafe grunting at the feel of the vibrations.

Not wanting him to cum down your throat, you stop, slapping his cock on your tongue, smiling innocently when he narrows his eyes at you. He looked so hot staring down at you, chest heaving as he panted lightly, his knuckles white as he tried to restrain himself. His cock bobbed up as if begging for attention.

Shifting, you move up his body until your pussy is inches from Rafe's cock. You tap your clit with his cock, whimpering quietly, your clit still sensitive. Rafe's hands drift to your hips and you smack them away, giving him a smile as you rub your cunt against his dick, wanting to tease him just a little bit more.

He grits out your name, hands by his sides as he clenches them into a fist. "Stop teasing.”

"Or what?" you arch a brow, smirking as you let the head of his cock slip into your wet cunt. Temporarily speechless, Rafe lets out a guttural groan as you sink down unhurriedly, watching as your pussy wraps around his cock until he bottoms out. The size of his cock stretches you out, your walls fluttering around him as you rock slowly. "Holy shit."

"Jesus Christ." Rafe growls, his hands cupping your tits as you begin to bounce on his dick. He squeezes them, watching as your pussy swallows his cock like a vice. "So tight. Made just for me."

You moan at his words, leaning back and placing your hands on his thigh, giving him a view men would kill for. You ride his cock, throwing your head back at the feel of his cock stretching you out. Rafe reaches down, slapping your ass as you ride him, and you mewl at the gentle pain. "Rafe."

Rafe's thumb touches your clit, rubbing it as he watches you ride his cock, his lips parted slightly like he is seeing one of the seven wonders of the world. His eyes dart between his cock sliding in and out of your cunt and your face contorts with pleasure, moaning every time you slide down his cock.

"Fucking gorgeous." Rafe whispers, thrusting up into you, his pupils dilated when you whimper loudly. He sits up, his hands gripping your waist, moving his face in front of your bouncing tits, taking a nipple into his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. "So much better than I imagined, baby."

You place your hands on his shoulders, pussy clenching around his cock. You moan into his ear, kissing his neck as he thrusts up into you, your legs trembling as you draw closer to cumming. "Rafe, I'm gonna cum."

The words cause him to double his efforts, gripping your waist so tight it would leave bruises, his cock filling you up as he fucks you fast. His lips drag across your neck, leaving a mark as his cock brushes against your cervix. "Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like a fucking slut."

You cry out as you come, your cunt tightening around his cock. You bite Rafe's shoulder, muffling your ungodly loud moan. "Fuck, fuck!”

He pulls you back in for a kiss, spilling his seed into your awaiting pussy. Rafe slows to a stop, groaning against your lips, his cock nuzzled deep inside you. Rolling you on your back, he doesn't separate from you, keeping his dick warm as he kisses you languidly. Taking a breath, he breaks the kiss, staring down at you, a small smile gracing his lips. "You alright, sweetheart?"

Tired and content, you return his smile, pussy throbbing around his softening cock. You nod, eyes heavy. "Yeah, you?"

Rafe chuckles quietly. "Yeah, me too."

As your eyes drift close, you feel Rafe press a kiss to your forehead.

[crookedteethed]

Just discovered your blog and the startlet reader fic was amazing, I can totally see that becoming a series!!! Idk if you're into it but can I request an even darker fic related to that one shot, where producer!rafe does take her in as his own, but he's really mean and toxic to her?

Hope you have a good day 💗💗

A/N: Ahhh thank you for the request! 💕 I'm thrilled you enjoyed the Producer! Rafe fic, and I hope you have an even better day!! producer!rafe is literally the king of mind fucking reader in this 😭

Pairing: pornproducer!rafecameron x starlet!reader

Warnings: 18+ Oral (male receiving) + (mentions of fem receiving) con-non-con, drug usage, cursing, Rafe slaps reader with his dick, praise kink, power imbalance, Possessive!Rafe, reader is a p*rnstar, Rafe is a delulu asshole, slut shaming, low-key I think Rafe likes seeing reader have sex with other men but want to shame her for it : (

As your male co-star's plump lips encircled your swollen bud, you couldn't help but feel unease at the ominous gaze that appeared to track your every move, the gaze belonging to Rafe Cameron.

Rafe's intense body language clearly communicated frustration and anger, creating an intimidating presence on set. His cerulean eyes turned dark, and his puffed-out chest conveyed a sense of power and dominance, making it clear that he was not to be crossed. 

You didn't know what you were doing wrong. 

Could I be too lifeless? you think, leading you to arch your back from your co-star's touch, run your hands through his perfect Ken doll hair, and tell him, "How amazing this feels." This then prompted Rafe to call it "cut."

You were given a silk bathrobe to use as a cover, and a water bottle was offered to you before you departed the set, designed to resemble a feminine bedroom's interior.

Your heart skipped a beat as you stumbled upon Rafe, sitting on the couch in your trailer--doing a line of coke on the porcelain heart-shaped tray you brought from home. 

More so shocked to see him doing lines, not shocked to see him inside your trailer because he was always sniffing around your trailer and seeing what you were up to between breaks. 

You're the first to speak: 

"Whatever it is I'm doing wrong, I swear I'll do better on the next take, please don't fire me." 

The bustling nerves, the bright lights, and the presence of the camera all contributed to your performance feeling surreal in the moment. Now, as you stand before a visibly and deeply disappointed Rafe, you can understand why he appeared so frustrated.

Rafe scoffs. And through hooded eyes, he cuts another line with the credit card in his hand before he goes nose-first into the white powder. 

"I bet you fucking like that shit." he sniffs. 

The sensation of tiny insects crawling on your skin commenced, and before you had the chance to inquire, a response was already pouring out of Rafe's mouth: 

"You like having him fuck you." He spits. 

You were confused, to say the least, because when it came to your films, Rafe had a preference for only allowing oral activities rather than penetrative sex due to his belief that "Pretty girls don't do disgusting things."

"Rafe what are you talking ab--" The limited confines of your trailer emphasize Rafe's larger stature as he rises, interrupting your interaction.

"Fucking come here." He snatches your forearm in a bruising grip, hurling you onto the couch. 

He looms over you, his powerful physique obstructing any chance of you moving.

"Rafe, please--," you say, squirming as he forcefully removes your bathrobe, his strong hand then trailing down to cup your cunt. He seizes control of your body. 

"You're wet." He states. "You're fucking wet." He says again, this time with a laugh that lacks genuine amusement. 

"God, you're such a slut." He says, his calloused fingers cradling the edge of your chin, tilting your head up so his cerulean color eyes meet your glossy ones. 

"Always wanting it." he says insincerely. "That's why you really wanted to become a 'star', not because of fame, but because you always want your pretty hole dicked down." He spits. 

"No, I swear." You whimper.

Rafe's thumb wipes the tears that fall from the apple of your cheek, and he fakes a pout. 

"Somehow, I don't believe you." He says in a phony whimper that sounds similar to yours. 

"Y'know I can have you fired for some shit like this?" He says, back in his tantalizing tone. 

"Please Don't--" you choke over a sob. 

"I can fucking blackball your ass, make sure no one sees your name in the big spotlights." 

You were so close to achieving fame, with it practically within your grasp, your fingers nearly grazing the prize, only for it to be taken away at the last moment.

"Rafe, I swear I'll do better. Please don't do this to me," you say between choked cries. You start to forget what the dispute is about, but all you know is that your career is in jeopardy, and you must do anything to protect it. 

"Prove it to me," Rafe says. His favorite four words. "Prove to me you'll do better."

His blown-out eyes motioned down to his bulging cock. 

You blink slowly at him. 

His hand once cradled your chin, then yanks on your hair. 

Hastily, your trembling fingers work to undo his belt, your slender digits encircling the sturdy leather.

The moment your fingers unfastened his belt and tugged on the waistband of his jeans, Rafe's finger, still intertwined with your hair, pulled on it as he muttered impatiently, "Hurry up."

For the sake of your career, you obeyed Rafe's commands, freeing his hardened cock from the confinements of his briefs. 

Your body does that thing again when it goes against you, similar to what it did when your co-star was eating you out; your mouth waters at the sight of Rafe's hard pink cock. 

For one second, you look up at Rafe with wide, doe, teary eyes; it's a silent cry for help, hoping he sees your distraught state and thinks to himself that you could do no wrong. 

To your dismay, Rafe finds your pathetic look amusing, which only turns him on even more. With the movement of his pelvis, he uses his reddened—mushroomed—tip to slap your cheek lightly, snapping you back into the moment. 

Before putting him whole into your mouth, you slide his cock in between your lips slowly, flicking your tongue under the head of his dick where it meets his shaft.

Rafe winces at the feeling your slobbery tongue, praising you about how much of a "good slut" you are.  This urges you to take him whole, his wet, girthy length sitting in your mouth, weighing down your tongue. Rafe again yanks your hair, whispering, "I thought I told you to hurry up." 

And with the same hand that previously yanked on your hair, Rafe guided your head in a fast-paced—throat-burning—motion—his dick now effortlessly sliding in and out your throat.

The girth of his member gradually penetrated deeper into the back of your mouth with each bob of his splayed hand.

As Rafe started thrusting his pelvis into you, the sound of your strained throat was the sole audible noise emanating from your trailer:

"glug, glug, glug."

Rafe mumbles something to you, something about how he'd be an idiot to let you go, not with a pussy and mouth like this. However, all you can focus on is the discomfort in your mouth, how Rafe's size grows with each movement, and how you keep pressing your nails into Rafe's exposed thighs because you feel like you're struggling to breathe.

Your body was filled with conflicting sensations, pleasure, and discomfort. The burning in your throat and the soreness in your mouth were reminders of the intensity of the encounter. Yet, amidst the physical pain, an undeniable pleasure coursed through you, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

Which causes you to moan when Rafe announces that he is about to cum. 

You felt your eyes start to water as you gagged around him, your throat tightening. Rafe's grip tightened, his thrusts more intense as he came, his orgasm ripping through him. You continued to swallow around him, your throat burning and sore as he finished.

"Swallow it." He spits at you, his warm, thick seeds sludge down your gullet. 

This wouldn't be the first time Rafe came inside of you, so you happily swallowed his cum, opening your mouth wide to him to show your proof. 

"What did I tell you, always fucking wanting it." He smirks at you as he fixes himself. You wipe the drool and caress your draw as he does so. 

Then, to your surprise, Rafe takes your jaw in his fingers again and brings you into a passionate, sloppy kiss--tongue and all. 

"You do know that you're my favorite girl, right?" He says, a boyish smile tugged on his lips. "My star girl." 

The sudden change in Rafe's behavior left you feeling conflicted and uncertain. Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of the situation, questioning your desires and boundaries. It was a stark reminder of the complexity of human emotions and the blurred lines between pleasure and discomfort.

"So you're not going to get rid of me?" you squeak.

"Baby, I'm never letting you go; you're stuck with me." He says this in a lighthearted manner, but his words hold a much more profound significance than they may initially appear.

But who really has time to dissect every word Rafe says? After all, your career was saved, and you had nothing to fret about anymore. 

So, as you and Rafe walked back to set, Rafe's arm wrapped around your side, you had to regain your composure quickly and smile as if you could do the take all over again.

You knew you had to stay in character, and your reaction had to be perfect. You had to ensure Rafe was satisfied with the result and that you would remain a star, whatever it may take.

[billskeis]

Could you do giving 2010 Tom the best head hes ever had :p

ᡣ𐭩 tom receiving the best head ever

after a good day out of shopping with your friends, you all decided that it was time to head home. your head was foggy, needy, and you were extremely frustrated with a certain something.

a certain, someone, occupying your mind.

you enter your apartment throwing your keys onto the counter, plopping all the bags your held that left your arms and fingers arching. turning red from all the tensions of the handles that almost brought you down with gravity.

“what’s up baby? how was the mall?” a voice was heard from the side as a small kiss was placed onto your cheek. the figure passed you and sat down on the couch in the living room.

tom cracked open a coke bottle and took a sip of the fizzy beverage while watching whatever was on the tv. giggles were heard after there was an assumingely comedic scene from the screen.

again, you didn’t really care to make note of that, or the bags that once filled you with so much excitement as you swiped your card like at least twenty times.

to you, the person who was watching the tv, was veryy important right now.

you walk, making your way towards the couch and standing in front of the television, blocking tom’s view. he tries to lean his head to each side of your body but you still stood straight within his peripherals.

“baby, move please, ‘m watching,” he asks politely, and as much as you really wanted to listen to him and just let him go along with his day, you were extremely needy. you don’t say anything to him. just standing there, he raises an eyebrow at you.

slowly, you begin to get down on your knees.

“s-schatzi?? what’re you doing?” “just lemme relieve some stress, i need this, okay?” he first held your shoulders in concern as to why you were knelt down in front of him, but instead he just leans back into the couch.

he could tell that after all that time outside, you just needed this to calm down. why like this? he doesn’t know, not that he’s complaining but this is the first time you’ve ever wanted to give him head.

he was always a giver. and he never asks despite his libido. tom wanted to wait for you to ask him. he was patient, surprisingly. you bring your hands to fiddle and undo the tie that held his sweatpants together, bringing them down mid-thigh to expose his boxers.

palming him, tom groans softly and shuts his eyes tight. “y/n…” you then free his dick from his boxers, springing up. you look at it in shock.

you had sex, you knew of tom’s size and length, it filled you. in a good way, of course. but never had you really had the time and effort to actually take a good look at it before. you’ve never blown him, or even given him a handjob.

well! i guess today was the day.

you lick a long stripe up his length, closing your eyes, all you can hear from his reaction is a deep inhale. opening one of your eyes, you peak to see your boyfriend clutching very tightly onto the couch. his head rests on the top of it as he just lays there.

“you okay tomi?” “yeayea, just—fuck keep going..” you then take him into your mouth and begin bobbing your head up and down, ensuring to coat his entire dick with your saliva.

you swirl your tongue along his shaft, not missing a spot or leaving an inch of his penis neglected. because he’s so big, you can’t have his whole length in your mouth so instead you jerk the bottom half of his shaft while the top remains in your mouth.

“a-ah, shit schatz just like that.. being so good f’me.. know how to work your mouth just right,” for your first time sucking him off, you’re doing pretty well!

opening both your eyes, you can see how tom clenches his jaw shut and how his stomach caves in, “tellin’ me this ya first time?” he questions, you stop sucking him off with a pop sound, saliva running down your chin.

“yep! i was just really in the mood.. been outside for too long,” “could tell, couldn’t wait to put my dick in your mouth huh?” kissing his tip, you watch as tom’s hips jerk slightly upward at the sudden sensation.

“don’t get ahead of yourself, this is for me. not you,” “whatever you say baby,” continuing, you bring his tip into your mouth once more, swirling your tongue around the head slowly to ensure he feels allllll of your mouth on him, again bringing your hands to rub the rest of his length.

tom brings a hand to pat your head, “coming.. ‘m gonna come soon,” you don’t stop, you overstimulate him. he deserves it, he’s the best boyfriend you’ve ever had and he deserves such treatment.

bless his heart for letting you suck him off.

you fasten the pace of how you move your tongue and hands along his member. quickly but swiftly, tom brings both hands to the back of your head. gripping on your hair, he shoves his dick down your throat, releasing his load along the walls of your esophagus.

you don’t choke. why? that’s a mystery we’ll never know. maybe you’re just made for sucking dick. because after this first session, tom’s fucking addicted.

“fuckbabyfuck!” as his hips jolt into your mouth, he slows down his small thrusts into you as he finally lets go of your hair. you stick your tongue out at him to show your boyfriend that you had swallowed his load.

“y/n! why did you do that!?” he immediately grabs a tissue from the coffee table to wipe off the saliva and cum around your mouth and chin, “s’fine, you literally just deepthroated me without warning..” “fuck—yeah sorry it just felt good…head so good you got me acting insane schatz…”

smiling at him, you stick a tongue out at him, “i know, thanks for letting me do that, i really needed it,” you begin to get up and leave to put away the shopping bags and begin cooking dinner.

that was until a hand grabbed your wrist and stilled your movements.

“tom?” “but we still have to fix this..”

you look down to below his torso, he’s still hard. you swallow a hard lump going down your throat. even though you just gave tom the best head of his life, you felt yourself becoming nervous. as if you were a virgin.

oh boy.

[lumosinlove]

Day three of @oknutzy-week-2024 !!

On The Line

Part Two

Logan took his time getting dressed. Finn was no where to be found. Maybe he knew just as keenly that if he entered their suite, there was no way they were going to leave on time.

The thrum of the want between them, the ache that was always there, had reached a summery sort of fever. Logan hadn’t stopped sweating with it. He could see a thin sheen across his nose and cheeks—which were flushed. He looked at himself in the mirror as he did up his tie and smiled a little, shaking his head.

Was he really going to get everything he wanted this year? Winning at home and—

Finn. For the first time. Finally.

There was a knock at his door and Logan had to cover his mouth for a moment, his pulse jumped so hard. It was Finn. No one else knocked like that. Bum-bum-ba-bum. Logan put a hand against the wardrobe and closed his eyes. He had to calm down. High off the win, high off Finn…

“Hel-lo?” Finn called. “I’m looking for Logan Tremblay the famous—what was it? Baseball player? Hockey? Oh, that’s right, ten-nis.”

“Coming,” Logan gasped out, laughing. His voice sounded strange to himself. “I…” He swallowed. He looked at himself again.

He looked good. Really good. But when he opened the door, Finn made him want to die. He hadn’t changed yet—had probably been giving Logan space by charming the pants off his parents and sisters. He was just in a t-shirt and shorts, but Logan had kissed him now and it was like he was glowing. The way he was smiling at him. Logan’s mouth went entirely dry.

“Let me guess,” Finn said. He stepped inside, letting the door swing shut and making Logan back up until they were chest to chest. “Armani suit, night-forest green is what they call it. A subtle velvet lapel and a black satin tie. And the trousers…well, look at those thighs. They’re custom made.” Finn arched a brow. “Am I right?”

“You picked it all for me,” Logan said.

“Oh.” Finn grinned. “That’s right.”

“You look really good,” Logan said softly.

Finn made that face he did—that smile-frown—and looked down at his sweaty clothes from the match.

“I think that was my line,” he said.

Logan just blinked at him.

“But thank you,” Finn said softly. His eyes flicked down to Logan’s mouth. “I have to change.” He looked at something behind Logan. “You didn’t pop your champagne. The ice is going to melt.”

“Why would I do that without you?”

“So…You’re scared of the cork.”

“Ouais.”

Finn slipped past him, and when he untwisted the wire and wrapped his hands around the champagne bottle, Logan understood that he was being teased.

“Finn—”

Pop. It smoked but didn’t overflow. Finn poured Logan a glass and brought it over to him. When Logan just stared at him, he brought the glass to his own mouth, took a sip, and then held it to Logan’s.

“Go ahead, champion.” Logan drank. Finn put the glass in his hand. “Finish that. I’ll be ten minutes.”

“Twenty,” Logan said faintly, and Finn sent him one last smile over his shoulder before shutting the bathroom door.

~

People were definitely trying to talk to Logan and Logan definitely kept losing track of what they were saying. Finn was in a navy suit. A black tie. He was wearing one of Logan’s watches and holding a glass of whiskey and ice that was sweating and sending droplets down his wrist. Logan wasn’t trying to be rude, he just had to excuse himself to get a drink or else he was going to drag Finn out of the party.

“Rum and coke,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” the bartender said in French. “And congratulations.”

“Merci.” Logan smiled.

“That was an amazing match,” said another voice.

Logan looked up at the bartender, thinking he’d spoken again and wondering why his accent had changed. It had been French but…odd French. Besides, the bartender was at the other end of the bar, cutting up a fresh lime.

“Hi.” Leo Knut leaned against the bar at Logan’s left with those blue eyes and—dimples. Logan hadn’t noticed those before.

“You speak French,” Logan said in English. “Strange French.”

Leo laughed. “If you say so. And you’re welcome, by the way.”

“What?” Logan looked up at him. He wasn’t wearing a jacket—it must have been draped over a chair somewhere—and the sleeves of a white button-down were rolled up to his elbows. His hands were huge and Logan caught himself before he stared too long. He knew how fast a serve they could create, how powerful a stroke. “Oh. Thank you.”

Leo nodded, looking out towards the crowd. Logan did the same and caught Finn watching him. Be nice his eyes seemed to say. The bartender brought Logan his drink and he took a long, much needed sip.

“Sorry about your run,” Logan offered. He was blushing again, why was he blushing? “Archer’s a fucking baby.”

Jack Archer had beat Leo and been a complete fuck about it. Holding his hands up to his ears for the crowd, holding his racket and miming playing a violin, like he was some kind of master. At least some of the crowd had been in the right mind to boo him.

Leo laughed and took a sip of his drink. “Oh, you got that right. For sure.”

“You used to train together, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Leo said. “Before I discovered that he was a fucking baby.”

“Lo,” Finn said, appearing at Logan’s side. He smiled briefly at Leo. “Your sisters are looking for you. Hey, Leo. I’m Finn. Thanks for the waffle.”

Now Leo was definitely blushing. Logan pressed minutely closer to Finn.

“Hi…Um. I’m a big fan,” Leo said, eyes flicking to Logan. “And, yeah, that definitely wasn’t my finest moment.”

“No, it was delicious. Send me some syrup next time—well actually…” He wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “He’s the sweet tooth.”

Logan shrugged. “Ouais.”

Leo laughed. “I saw you at breakfast have some coffee with your sugar.”

“Hey.” Logan ducked his head to play with his straw. “I’m a champion.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Leo raised his glass to Logan and Logan clinked it against his. Logan couldn’t help but laugh a little, too. It was so like Finn to break the ice like this. People came so easily to him and it impressed Logan every time.

“Well…” Leo hesitated. “Yeah. I just wanted to say congrats.” He looked between them. “Will I see you at Wimbledon?”

It took Logan a moment to realize Leo was asking both of them. He watched Finn realize it, too. Maybe the coach rumors were more widespread than Logan had known.

Oh,” Finn began and looked at Logan. He was obviously asking Logan and trying to be subtle about it.

As if Logan could go a single moment without Finn at his side. As if he wasn’t already planning to take Finn back to his house in Nice until Wimbledon started. As if he would go anywhere with Finn. As if he hadn’t already started looking up apartments in New York City because that was Finn’s home and that’s where Logan would go if Finn wanted it. Because this had to be equal. This had to be equal. A partnership.

“Ouais,” Logan said. “You will.”

Talking. Congratulations. Thank you. Yes, Wimbledon. Shaking hands. This is my mother and father. Yes, so proud. Are you the coach? Oh. Finn, bashful. I’m a friend. Helping out.

So far from the truth. There was that condensation droplet, tracking down his wrist, disappearing into the cuff of his suit. The curve of his throat. Finn, who could talk to anyone. Finn, who was looking at him. With a slightly raised eyebrow.

Logan blinked and looked away from him, at the circle of people.

A woman—what was her name?—was looking at him with expectance that was turning awkward.

“I’m so sorry,” Logan said. “I…”

Finn grinned and clapped a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Got a tired champion on our hands.”

The woman laughed, the awkwardness fading.

“I only asked,” she said. “What you might be planning for your time off?”

They escaped to the hallway at one in the morning. Goodbyes. Good nights. Congratulations. Thank you. Thank youThank youThank you—

Logan began walking towards the elevator quickly. If one more person stopped him he would—

Finn caught up to him just as he turned into an empty hallway of heavily curtain windows. The wrong way, he’d gone the wrong way, but it didn’t matter, and Logan let out a small sound when Finn’s hands caught his hips and pressed him up against one of the windows. They disappeared in the curtains and Logan could hear nothing but Finn’s breathing, smell nothing but Finn, whiskey, and velvet.

His world narrowed down to Finn’s voice and and those brown eyes.

“What have you been doing all night?” Finn whispered. “Ignoring your admirers.”

“I need you,” Logan’s voice shook. He put his hands on Finn’s chest. “Finn, please. Please—”

Finn pressed their foreheads together and Logan felt Finn’s breathing jump. He was just as desperate. Logan’s fingers closed around the lapel of his jacket.

Finn's hands smoothed down Logan’s hips to his ass. Logan could only pant, head tilted forward against Finn’s shoulder, and hold onto him. Like the clay, Logan wanted to roll around in everything that was Finn. He wanted to be covered.

There was a smile in Finn’s voice when he spoke again. “Lo.”

And then Finn was finally kissing him. Logan let himself be pressed against the window, lost in the thick folds in the curtain, and pinned by Finn’s hands.

Aren’t you lonely? Finn had asked him.

He had been. God, so lonely he thought he would die. But not now. Logan threw his arms around Finn’s neck.

“Finn. Up—the room.”

Finn kissed him again, then pressed his forehead to Logan’s temple, breathing hard. They stayed like that.

“God…” Finn whispered. Like he couldn’t help it, he gently cupped Logan’s chin and kissed him again, again, again. Soft things, like sips of water, of whiskey, like he couldn’t stop. The teasing temper was gone.

Logan smoothed his hands through Finn’s hair, stole four more kisses, and then pulled back to look at Finn’s closed eyes. He kissed one lilac eyelid, then the other.

“Come with me,” Logan said. His hands trailed down to Finn’s and he held them fast. “Come.”

Logan took Finn’s hand in his and pulled them from their secret folds of velvet—and face to face with Leo. Finn stumbled and pressed himself up to Logan’s back. He began kissing Logan’s neck, as if that’s why Logan had stopped. Logan’s hand went to his neck as if that would stop him. It only encouraged him.

“Oh,” came out of Leo’s mouth, soft and breathy.

Finn looked right up. His hands tightened on Logan’s hips.

Leo took a step back. Another. His blue eyes were wide, surprised…And then he seemed to settle. His shoulders relaxed. He put his hands in his pockets. He gave them a smile so slight that Logan wasn’t even sure it was a smile. He inclined his head, just a little, and turned, disappearing back down the hall.

Finn’s breath washed across Logan’s neck. “Lo?”

“C’est bon,” Logan whispered. He turned in Finn’s arms, looking up at him. “It’s…It’s okay.”

He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. Leo Knut might be his opponent, but he wasn’t his enemy.

Logan wasn’t sure, with Finn in his arms, that he had enemies. At least none that mattered.

The suite could have been a cell. It could have been underwater. It could have been not their room, it could have been a different hotel, a different planet. The heavy door slammed, locked, and Finn was against him again.

Logan was more careful when it came time to lay Finn out on the bed. He removed his clothes. No more need for satin or velvet or forest greens and navy. He wanted Finn’s pale ribs and lean, strong arms and narrow waist that Logan had to stop and put his mouth on. He kissed the pink scar on Finn’s knee, the soft skin of his inner thigh.

“You have no freckles here,” Logan whispered. “Only here.”

Finn looked down at him from the pillows, breathing hard. “I—I know.”

Logan brushed his mouth over the skin. He felt the muscle jump beneath his lips.

“Should I put something here?” Logan smiled. “Ouais, I think so.”

“You have to come here,” Finn said. “I’m going to die, you—come here.”

Logan went. How could he not? He sat back on his heels and began unbuttoning his shirt. Finn sat up and reached forward for Logan’s belt, but he got distracted and ended up kissing Logan until they both tumbled against the bed again, Logan’s shirt hanging loose. God, his kisses. Logan wanted more and closer.

“I’ve wanted you,” Finn said, words dragging when he was unwilling to break the kiss. “Lo, you have no idea—”

“Yes, I do,” Logan countered. “Yes I fucking do, you—I…You think I—Finn.” Logan kissed him so hard he felt their teeth knock. It startled a little laugh out of Finn and Logan kissed that, too. “I want…”

Logan pulled back to look at him. “I want you more than anything.” He put a hand against Finn’s hot cheek. “I want…I want to play cards with you, I want you to yell at me on runs, I want…”

How did he begin? How did he use words to make Finn understand?

But this was Finn. Finn who Logan knew understood him like no one else. He held Logan close to him, pressing until Logan let all of his weight go on top of him.

“Forget about my knee,” Finn said. “Say I was still playing and I was good. Winning and everything.” He reached forward and curled a lock of Logan’s hair around his finger. “If someone said to me, ‘Finn, you have to choose. You only get one thing that you really want in your life. What do you choose?’”

Logan tried to disguise his sharp intake of breath.

“You know what I’d choose?” Finn whispered softly. He was already smiling. “You,” Finn said. Then he leaned forward and kissed Logan’s forehead. “You.” He kissed Logan’s closed eyes, his cheek. “You.” His jaw, and his neck. “You.”

Aren’t you lonely?

“Logan, I love you.”

Logan wrapped him up, he let Finn ease his shirt from his shoulders, and couldn’t help his tearful laugh.

“I love you,” Logan said. “I love you…”

They fell together.

The sun of their sport was in Finn’s hands. Logan’s heart rushed like a win and he couldn’t keep quiet. Some accused him of never shutting up on the court—Finn inspired it. He coaxed sounds from Logan until Logan threw his head back. He didn’t care who heard him. He had Finn O’Hara. He had Finn O’Hara, he’d won.

Finn was no better. When Finn eased Logan down on his knees and forearms, Logan hoped his hips would be bruised by Finn’s grip on them. He hoped his neck and shoulders would hold the marks of Finn’s teeth forever. When the sun began to rise and Finn put Logan on his back and hitched Logan’s thighs around his hips, he fingers knotted in Finn’s hair, the other hand snapping to grip Finn’s ass. Finn ignited something vibrant inside him, raw and bright.

“I’m—” Logan tried to say. His thighs splayed over Finn’s hips now, his hands firm on Finn’s chest. He felt Finn’s palms round over his waist and everything in him melted. Finn tilted his head up to see his face. The grin Logan received looked blissed out, nearly drugged.

“Lo.” Finn’s mouth dropped open at the drag of Logan’s nails over his chest. Warmth. Sun in his veins. Logan bent and pressed his face into Finn’s neck. He smelled the traces of sunscreen and earthy clay, and let himself shake apart.

When the sky was pink, Logan got some ice for Finn’s knee, just in case, and Finn laughed at him. He brought them water and called room service to bring them two chocolate sundaes even though it was six in the morning. One melted while Finn fed Logan spoonfuls of chocolate covered vanilla, before kissing tastes for himself.

“I want you to stay,” Logan said.

Finn smiled. “Where would I go? Look at me.”

Logan took a moment to actually do so. Sweat cooling, hair a wreck. Logan touched a scratch on Finn’s shoulder, mumbled something about healing ointment, but Finn put a hand over it protectively.

“Stop, I like them.”

Logan pushed his face into his neck. “Well, non, I wouldn’t let you out looking like this.” Logan accepted another bite of ice cream. “But I didn’t mean that. I meant…”

Finn was looking at him so—hopefully. Logan felt himself blush—Finn laughed at that, too.

“Your blushing.” He kissed the heated skin and dropped his voice to a playful whisper. “I don’t think you need to blush with me.”

“Shut up,” Logan said, and kissed him to prove it. “Listen.”

“I’m listening.” Finn put the ice cream aside. “I’m listening.”

“I know—in the hospital, you said you might want someone separate from this life, but I—” Logan cut off again and sighed, laughing bit at himself. “Okay, there are two parts to what I want. You can say yes to only one or both. Or—or none, I guess—”

Finn rolled so they were even closer, so he was propped on a forearm and leaning over Logan, now on his back. Finn brushed his nose against Logan’s. He trailed his fingers up Logan’s chest. “Ask me.”

Logan swallowed. He sort of wished Finn would do what he always did and just know. But he’d also been holding in the words for so long that he needed to say them before they burned him up.

“I want you,” Logan said. “I want to be…I want us. Do you…”

Finn sort of fell against him. It wasn’t a kiss, though Logan’s bottom lip was pulled between Finn’s teeth.

“Yes,” Finn whispered, and then it was a kiss, a kiss like the one in the locker room. Hard. Sealing a fate. “Yes…”

“Again,” Logan heard himself say—embarrassing.

Finn tilted his head back and laughed, but Logan grabbed his shoulder and he was back, sharp teeth biting gently into Logan’s bottom lip, and then dipping to scrape against his neck. For a moment, Logan lay there with his eyes closed, feeling Finn’s teeth work his skin up into a bruise.

“Ask me the other part,” Finn said.

Logan settled his hands on Finn’s waist. “I’ve never loved this game so much as when I’m going through it with you.”

Brown eyes on him again. “Ask me.”

“These past few months, even when it was just over the phone—” Finn kissed Logan’s words and Logan held him tighter. “Watching tape, morning practices. I even like running when you’re there.”

Finn smiled and kissed the corner of his mouth, but stayed quiet.

“And I understand my opponents in ways I never did before. In your ways.”

“Ask, Lo.”

“I don’t even want this from you because I want to win everything,” Logan whispered. “I just want to spend every second of my day with you.”

“Ask.”

“There are rumors that you’re my coach.”

“And that we’re dating.” Finn smiled. “I think we’ve been dating for months now… So ask.”

“Let’s make them all true,” Logan said. “Be my coach and—and mine. Be mine.”

Finn studied him with soft, brown eyes. Logan could feel his happiness in his bones.

“Yes,” Finn said, then laughed, tearful. “Yes.”

Logan tugged until Finn rolled his weight to settle over him. Logan clutched at his back, turning his face until their mouths found each other again.

~

It was nice, winning Paris and being able to go home. Really home. Surprisingly, the house he kept in LA usually felt just as homelike, but there was something different about being able to go anywhere and having it be French that surrounded him, not English.

And there was something different about bringing Finn home…Finn. His coach.

His.

Finn did the same thing he did in the hotel suites. Walked around, took his time, touched things. Except this time it was Logan’s rooms, not some sterile hotel that Logan just happened to be in. He dropped his bags at the door and looked around the stone house with richly patterned terracotta tiled floors. The far wall was all windows with a patio that overlooked the cliffside and the sea far down below—and where Logan had both hard and clay surfaced courts with the same sea view. Finn leaned in to look at his photographs on the wall. His first wins. Him and his sisters. Finn smiled and touched the glass of one where a baby Logan was being squished nearly to death by the grinning little girls.

He turned back to the center of the living room and looked up at the high, vaulted ceilings where skylights let in more light. The open kitchen, only a massive stone island separating the living room and the appliances. A hallway leading down towards the bedrooms and…

“It’s gorgeous,” Finn said softly. He went to the balcony and slid open the glass door a little. Immediate, the sea whipped its salt and sun into the room, ruffling Finn’s red hair.

It was a good house. Logan had always thought so. But now it was gorgeous. With Finn’s socked feet and Finn’s bags by the door. Finn’s plane sweatshirt draped over the white, massive couch.

“Come here,” Logan said, holding out his hand. “I have a present.” Finn’s eyes dropped down Logan’s body and the entirety of it warmed. “Not me.”

“Then I’m spoiled,” Finn said, but followed.

It was a bit of work, walking Finn past the master bedroom’s door, but Logan had a goal. It had involved planning ahead, calls with his grounds keeper, Luna. Logan had only seen pictures, but he knew it would be perfect.

They came to the short ladder first. Logan touched the smooth, dark grain. Exactly as he had imagined it. He turned back to see Finn already staring upward, towards the still hidden, small loft space above that had replaced what had once been a bedroom.

“I never knew what to do with this room,” Logan said. “I didn’t need an office. I didn’t need a fifth bedroom. So…So I tore it down and made it this. It’s for you.”

Finn stared at him. “What do…What do you mean you made this?”

“I knew what I wanted,” Logan said. “I knew what you’d want.”

Finn was still staring at him. He already looked good from the salt air.

“You made this…for me?”

Logan just stepped away from the ladder and let Finn go up first. When Finn was a few rungs up, high enough to see what lay atop, he stopped.

Logan put a hand on his calve. “Your knee. Is it—”

“It’s fine,” Finn said softly. He was gazing around the space. “It’s…oh wow, Lo.”

A pleased little shiver ran up Logan’s spine and he followed Finn halfway up the ladder, enough to rest his arms on the floor but give Finn the space to himself. Finn looked at the cushy white chaise, the pillows and blankets. He flicked on the warm glow of the reading lamp, then off again. Finn touched the empty shelves, then the single filled one.

“These…These are what I’ve been…” He turned to Logan, wide-eyed. “Did you, like, take notes?”

“I like to know your game. That includes books you wanted,” Logan said. He took a breath. “You said that, as a player, you wanted a partner to feel like your equal. Mais…I’m the player. I want it to feel equal, too.” He pulled himself up another rung on the ladder. “Do you like it?”

Finn let out a watery laugh. He put a hand to his chest as he brown eyes filled. He shook his head in disbelief and looked up at the skylight. The waiting shelves. The soft, low chaise that he could stretch his injured knee out in. “Baby…” He sank down onto the chaise and covered his mouth with steepled fingers.

Logan climbed the rest of the way up the ladder. He knelt across the small expanse of floor until he was kneeling between Finn’s feet. He touched the tender scar on his knee protectively and bent to kiss the raised skin.

Finn let out a shaky breath, and then his hands were on Logan’s neck, his cheeks, drawing their mouths together. A salty tear came between their kiss and Logan pressed into it.

“Thank you,” Finn said into his mouth. He pressed a kiss to Logan’s cheek, then the other. “Merci.”

Logan smiled a little, eyes closed as Finn pressed their cheeks together. They wrapped their arms around each other at the same time. Logan cupped a hand to the back of Finn’s head and let him press his nose into his neck, rubbing his back gently, first over his t-shirt, then tucking his hand under it to feel Finn’s warm back.

Finn took in a shuddering breath and Logan felt it beneath his palm.

“I know,” Logan whispered. He stroked his fingers through the hair at the base of Finn’s neck. “I know.”

“I won’t play again,” Finn said, muffled. “Not like before.”

Logan could only hold him through it. He’d known it would hit Finn. He just hadn’t known when.

They stayed there until Logan heard Luna open the door and call out.

“She takes care of the property,” Logan said softly as Finn pulled back. His eyes were a little red, but he looked okay. He smiled and nodded that he was. Logan wiped gentle thumbs under his eyes. “She helped me with this. She’s wonderful. Probably here to welcome us home.”

He could all but see Finn linger on the word us. The smile that came with it.

“We better go meet her then.” Finn pressed a kiss to Logan’s palm, and they made their way down the ladder.

They slept and recovered. They ate and swam in the protected cove at the base of Logan’s cliffs. Logan sunk beneath the waves of Finn’s body. He didn’t need air. He needed Finn with salty hair and slightly pink shoulders. Finn mixing Daiquiris and Paper Planes.

And he needed Finn beside him on the hot courts, putting him through backhand drills and split sprints. Spotting him in the gym and keeping him pushing. The back of his t-shirt covered in clay when Logan pulled him down and kissed him until they’d lost the light and had to turn the court lights on.

“Nope, nope,” Finn said now, above his head and upside down with Logan on his back. “One more, come on.”

Logan blew air out and arched his back against the bench press. His muscles were shaking. Sweat dripped into his eyes.

“Come on, Tremblay,” Finn said. He hovered his hands just above where Logan’s were clenched around the weight. “Bring it to me.”

With a last burst of effort, Logan did, and Finn helped him guide the weight back into its rest.

“Good,” Finn said, coming around the bench as Logan lay there, chest heaving. Finn patted a hand over his heart. “That was good.”

“Good?”

“You’re gonna love me for it later,” Finn swung one leg over the bench to straddle Logan’s thighs and then bent forward slightly to dig his thumbs into Logan’s hip flexors. “Promise.”

Logan groaned. “Hm…”

“Fruit, water, then let’s do some band work.”

“How about you take me to bed.”

“Oh, I will.”

For a moment, Finn disappeared. Then he was back and holding out a strawberry to Logan. Logan raised his head only enough to take it between his teeth.

“Let’s go now,” he said chewing.

“Non, nom.” Finn took the stem of the strawberry back and ate the rest off himself. He balanced the bowl of fruit on Logan’s chest and threw the strawberry green at him. “Get up, let’s go.”

It was their last night before leaving for England and Wimbledon before Logan knew it. He hated packing, and Finn—for once in his life—was no help. He was just as terrible. They both wandered aimlessly around the bedroom Logan already couldn’t imagine not sharing. How had he slept alone before? When Finn eventually had to take some calls, Logan found that he actually didn’t mind packing Finn’s suitcase as much. He liked looking at his things. Which t-shirts had holes and where. The blue hat.

They met back up in the living room. Logan emerged with their suitcases, leaving them to push the sliding doors all the way open to let the evening breeze in, just as Finn threw his phone down on the couch before following it with a huff. He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned and looked at Logan.

“So many people want you, Lo.”

Logan just smiled and nudged for Finn to lift his head and shoulders so Logan could sit down, Finn’s head in his lap. He rubbed at the base of his neck. He made his fingers light and ticklish through his hair and watched Finn’s face relax.

“I love this place,” Finn said. “I really love this place.”

“It’s yours.”

“They say it’s going to be a heat wave in England.”

“I know. Good thing I’m used to the heat.”

“Black’s not playing.”

“His ankle.”

“Have to get through Lupin, though.”

“And Knut,” Logan said. He’d become more and more worried about beating Leo. He was skilled, yes, but even more than that he was unshakable. His mental game was the strongest Logan had ever seen—and then there was himself. Prone to throwing rackets and all sorts of stupid things.

“I was watching tape,” Finn said. “Of one of your first matches against him.”

“Ouais?”

Finn still had his eyes closed. He swallowed. “You broke a racket over your knee.”

Logan sighed. “Ouais, well…I do that sometimes, I guess.”

Finn shifted a little. He straightened his bad knee slowly and Logan stilled, understanding. He watched the way the fragile tendons moved under Finn’s pale skin.

When he looked back at Finn’s face, Finn was staring up at him with firm brown eyes.

“You’re never going to do that on a court again,” Finn said. “Okay?”

Logan touched Finn’s adam’s apple. He cupped a hand against his cheek. He wanted to kiss all the fragile, healed parts of him.

“Yes,” Logan said. “Okay.”

Finn put his hand over Logan’s. “Hey, Lo?”

Logan tilted his head. “Rouge.”

Finn smiled a little, brows drawn together. “Huh?”

“Red,” Logan explained, realizing what he’d said. He pushed his hand through Finn’s hair again. “Red.”

Finn’s closed his eyes, smiling. “Oh.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Hm,” Finn said, pushing into Logan’s hand. “Oh. I’m gonna love you forever.”

~

ONE YEAR LATER

“So, Logan. You’re back in Wimbledon as the defending champion. And this year it’s a re-match of last year’s insane six hour final against Leo Knut.” The interviewer shook her head, smiling. “Quite a day here. How are you feeling?”

Logan was at the Breakfast At Wimbledon desk with a mic clipped to his shirt. A girl had dusted some powder of his nose and forehead.

You’re pretty good, but for the shine, she’d said in her light accent. Hey, do you know how crazy your eyelashes are?

Logan thought of Finn, early in some blue mornings, making him stir with a tender thumb just under his eye.

“I’m feeling good,” Logan said. He cleared his throat. English had been coming easier and easier to him, but it was always harder to grasp somehow on television. “I think about that match a lot, of course. But my coach, ah, when we are studying the hard parts, parts where I almost lost, he has a good way of saying it’s a first draft and this one is—will be even better.”

“Oh gosh, imagine that, what a treat for the fans!” She folded her hands in front of her. “You bring up your partner and coach, Finn O’Hara. Speaking of him. Here we were thinking Finn was completely out of the game for good, but you two are set to play in the men’s doubles finals today! What a treat that was this year to see you two together. How ever did that come about?”

“Oh,” Logan said. “Well.”

Finn had been nervous, or giddy when asking him. Maybe both.

I was—I mean, you’re going to be focused on the real deal, I know. But doubles…not as much running around for me. Doctors say I’m doing good. I think I’d enjoy it. I know I should ask Alex, but would you ever want to—

Logan smiled just thinking about the memory. About tackling him and kissing him and yes yes yes.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s kind of romantic, non?”

He caught the show going on as he passed a TV in the lobby. The panel fluttered happily around the romance of it all for a good while and then moved back to the upcoming men’s final.

Well, you know we do love the Black brothers here, our hometown boys, and I am sad they were both knocked out. Really, though, I could not be looking forward to this match more. There’s something about Tremblay and Knut matches, the older generation and the newer. We always call Black’s game a sneak attack. Tremblay is different. The almost dark intensity, in your face, of Tremblay’s game…He wants you to know he’s taking you apart. And Knut’s the same but lighter, it’s vibrant in a completely different way, its buoyancy—

They really found so many ways to call him old in this place.

“Hey, baby.” Finn said when Logan came up behind his chair. Logan leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek, then his neck, then he tilted Finn’s chin to the side to kiss his mouth.

“Hey.” Logan sat down at the iron table on their hotel’s sun covered patio and tilted his face up to the sky. It had nothing on Finn, though. He scooted his chair closer to Finn and and settled his hand on his knee scar, “Ça va?”

“Good.” Finn pushed a plate of mango towards him and put his hand over Logan’s. “Picked up your match clothes. Oh, and ordered you an omelette.”

Logan smiled, chewing. “Merci.”

“Aren’t I romantic?”

Logan arched a brow.

Finn laughed one of Logan’s favorite laughs. Lips closed, smile making his eyes crinkle. He held up a slice of mango and Logan took it from his fingers.

“So,” Logan said, swiping a thumb over Finn’s knee. “Do I get to coach you today?”

~

It was something else, being on the court with Finn. It felt like a gift. Finn in a baseball cap—not the blue one, Wimbledon called for white fabrics only—but Logan loved it anyway. Finn holding his palm up to whisper strategy to Logan. Getting to watch Finn move on the court. It wasn’t the same—he used to do these glorious, long slides like Logan couldn’t believe. But it was still beautiful. His footwork. That wicked one-handed slice of a backhand. His top spin drop shots that won them more points than not. Getting to go down on a knee near the net and listen to the familiar power of Finn serving the ball behind him.

Logan wasn’t so used to doubles. He lost a millisecond every time the ball bounced in the sidelines before remembering it counted. The only easy thing to train himself into seemed to be letting Finn take some of the shots. Trading off with him, weaving around the grass court. They killed at it. Logan had thought they’d probably be good, but they knew where the other one was like magnets.

Logan had known they were going to win by the third round. The finals was nothing. He had Finn at his side. When Finn’s final, perfect shot was right down the line, Logan let out a shout and jumped into the air. He heard the crowd roar. He turned and looked at Finn. Finn had raised his fists. He had his head tilted back, grinning, his racket at his feet.

Logan didn’t even wait before running forward and hugging him around the waist hard. His nose went right where it always did, pressed against Finn’s collarbone, and Finn clutched him back.

“So good,” Logan said in his ear. “Fucking beautiful, you’re beautiful out here.”

Finn was laughing and slapping him on the back. He reached for Logan’s hair, knocking his hat off. “I love it. Oh, I love it here with you, Lo, I love you…”

He liked standing and being interviewed better with Finn at his side, too. He liked being able to reach out and squeeze his hand.

“Logan,” the woman interviewing them said. “You’re playing the Wimbledon final tomorrow and I don’t know if you saw but your opponent is here watching. Anything to say, how are you preparing for tomorrow after this win?”

Logan wiped sweat out of his eyes and squinted up at the stands. Sure enough, in one of the front rows, Leo Knut was sitting there. He wore a light blue t-shirt that rippled in the breeze and a pink baseball cap that tucked his blond curls out around his ears. He raised his hand slightly, looking like he knew he was probably on camera and a little awkward because of it.

He also looked good. The bright colors suited him, setting off his tanned skin. When the breeze pushed his t-shirt sleeve up a little, Logan could see a stark tan line like the one he always got and Finn never did.

“Oh,” Logan said. “Ah…C’est pas, um…See you tomorrow?”

The audience laughed and Logan looked at Finn to see if he was smiling. He was.

“And you, Finn, as Logan’s coach, how do you think this win will translate into tomorrow’s game for your player?”

Your player.

Finn glanced at Leo, too. “Well, it’s a totally different game. Leo isn’t going to make anything easy, he’s so talented and he has an outstanding team behind him. But…” He threw an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “This win definitely doesn’t hurt, so, yeah, see ya tomorrow, Knut!”

The audience laughed again, cheering as Finn raised the trophy over his head again for them. Logan took a step back, watching him bask in the sun of it all before the photographers would descend and want both of them together.

“Can we get one of you both holding the trophy? Thank you, thank you…”

They were positioned at center court, shoulder to shoulder, each holding one of the trophy’s handles. Logan hated this part. The flashes. His smile felt so posed to begin with and it would feel even worse after holding it for two minutes.

“Hey,” Finn whispered.

Logan turned his head, and suddenly Finn was kissing him. Smiling and kissing him.

The cameras went off like fireworks.

[fairysluna]

INVISIBLE STRING | Chapter 4: you must like me for me.

New Girl!AU — A disastrous break up led you to them; three guys living in a huge apartment and in need of a new roommate who helped with the way too expensive rent.

MASTERLISTㅤ | ㅤSERIES MASTERLISTㅤ | ㅤPHOTO CREDIT

PAIRING - Modern!Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY - the unexpected presence of Aegon in your room brings the so desired moment of him finally seeing you as a friend. However, you were never good at giving advice and it all ends in a big mess.

TW/TAGS - cursing, body dysmorphia, mentions of blood, insecurities, this might be considered as a slight chubby!aegon, make out session, mentions of nudity, slow burn, friends to lovers, things get heated but nothing happens. If something is missing pls let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE - hi everyone, do you remember this fic? lmao. i know it's been MONTHS since i posted sth for this story, but well, i finally got the inspiration to write this, so this came out. I promise to be fully dedicated to this fic bc it's time i finish this already and bc im excited for it!! now im on vacations so i guess I'll have more time so... thank you if you waited for this fic, and thank you for reading!!🤍

WORD COUNT - 4.6k

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ english is not my first language.

When you finally entered the loft your right hand was holding three files filled with tests for you to grade while the other one was carrying your bag and the keys of your home. You quickly scanned the living room to see if someone was there in order to greet them, but it was empty and messy as usual; leftovers of pizza and a half empty bottle of Coke soda in the center table. “It must've been Aegon”, you thought.

With a sigh you walked towards your room, worrying not to drop anything from your hands and thanking the gods as you saw the door slightly open. You kicked it, accidentally hard enough to make it smack against the wall behind it, and as soon as you looked inside the room, your eyes widened in surprise and all the things that were held by your trembling arms fell around the floor.

Aegon was standing in the middle of your room, shirtless and in the middle of flexing his muscles right in front of your mirror. He noticed your presence immediately, and he ran towards his shirt that was laying on your bed and covered his naked chest with a wild expression remarkably printed on his now red face.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, breathlessly.

"This is my room!" you quickly replied, ignoring the thousands of papers that were now scattered on the floor.

"Weren't you supposed to arrive at six? It's four pm!" Aegon rapidly put his shirt back on.

"We- they let us go home earlier because it's the school's anniversary- what are you doing here?" you spoke, stammering and interrupting yourself. You were still a bit taken aback with this whole situation.

There was a slight moment of doubt in Aegon's mind that was quite evident for your observant eye; he looked away from you as his arms crossed in front of his chest to cover himself even when he was no longer exposing himself. You arched your eyebrow, silently insisting on an answer or some kind of explanation; two days ago you could have sworn he did not like you, but now seeing him standing in your room in such a condition made you overthink everything.

However, before you could think about questioning his lack of words, Aegon sighed loud enough for you to hear the embarrassment and resignation, and soon a mumble followed.

"You have a mirror," he replied.

His response did nothing but confused you even more. A frown appeared on your face, one small gesture that Aegon might have misinterpreted as an angered one if he hadn't known you enough.

"A mirror?" Aegon nodded.

"You're the only one who has one in the bedroom, and-"

"What about the bathroom?" You interrupted out of pure curiosity. "And Aemond has one too."

"Jace has been taking a shit for hours and Aemond forbade me to enter his room since what happened the last time." You were about to open your mouth to ask about it, but he was faster. "Don't ask," he warned you, and you pressed your lips together, remaining silent. "Listen, just forget this. I'm gonna leave right now, and we'll pretend this never happened. Okay?"

He started to walk towards you in order to cross the doorframe behind you. He passed right next to you, and for some unknown reason, your body decided to act before your mind could even process what was going on. Before you even noticed, your hand was wrapped around Aegon's wrist in a grip that was surprisingly strong. Aegon froze right in the spot and the first thing he did was to watch your hand, to then lift his face and lay his deep, lavender eyes on you.

Your jaw clenched, unsure of what to do since everything seemed to be happening strangely fast. The situation was confusing, and it made you act out of instinct leaving you standing there beside him, with just a few seconds left to say something before it turned into something awkward and weird.

Aegon, who would naturally and instinctively reject other people's touch, did not even attempt to push you away from him; he just waited until you removed your hand from his wrist. His reaction was quickly excused by his own mind, thinking that it was only because you took him by surprise.

"Uh…" you muttered, still trying to process what to say, "if- if there's something troubling you, you can tell me, you know? Maybe it's something I can help with."

He just shrugged, trying to make it seem unimportant.

"Not really," he said, leaving the room afterwards without saying another word.

You sighed, resigned to only be seen as his roommate and not as a friend. You tried not to think about it while you kneeled down to pick up the files and papers that fell from your hands when you entered your room, because you did not want it to let it bother you.

But, when you managed to put all your things on your desk, you turned around and saw Aegon standing in the doorway with arms crossed and a defeated look on his face, which had a slight pinkish tone that you would have found adorable in another situation.

"Actually, yes," he started, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, as if he was scared of someone else listening to the conversation. "I kinda need help with something… I- uh, well, you are a girl so you probably know about this stuff, so…"

It was a difficult task for you to hide the emotion that lightened up your face after hearing his words, finally seeing the perfect opportunity to bond with the guy that has been avoiding you for weeks.

"Of course," you replied, trying not to speak too fast. "I can help you with anything."

"Alright." He nodded, looking down at the floor as he seemed to be putting some order to his words before they left his mouth. "So, the girl you saw the other day, the girl in the bar, remember?"

"I knew you liked her!"

"Well, I just want to bang her, but that's one way to put it," Aegon shrugged after his explanation, while you pressed your lips. "The thing is that, I think she's super hot and gorgeous, and way out of my league, and-"

"Oh, Aegon, you are handsome too!" You interrupted, and he quickly started to look impatient.

"Yeah, but that's not the point," he said, exasperated. "The thing is, the last time that I had sex, the girl I was fucking- uh… well, she said something about my body that really took me off."

"What did she say?" You curiously asked.

"She kinda made fun of it," he replied quickly, as if he was embarrassed.

Your eyes softened immediately after, and your first instinct was to touch him to give him support; however, halfway there you remembered he did not like those gestures, so your hand ended up in the air and seconds later you put it back. Aegon's breath was caught in his throat as he saw how your hand was so close to his skin.

"I'm sorry, Aegon."

"And now I can't get naked in front of this hot girl, even when I really want to!" He cleared his throat, and his tone suddenly changed, now being more angered rather than sad. "I just want to get laid, but I can't! This chick cursed me or something."

"You're not cursed," you said, trying to comfort him somehow. "Listen, you need to work on your self confidence, and-"

"And how do I do that?"

"Do what?"

"How can I work on my self confidence?"

You frowned, "I don't- I'm not sure how-"

"Oh come on!" He raised his voice with exasperation. "You're a teacher! Aren't you supposed to give guidance to your students?"

"Well, my students don't usually ask for sexual advice from their teacher so…"

"You need to help me, please," he pleaded, and you could clearly see the despair in his eyes begging you to say something useful.

You knew you could not fuck this up, not when it was probably the only chance you could have to bond with him after days trying to make him look at you as a friend. Inside of your mind you tried to remember anything that could work in this situation, all those psychology seminars you attended during your college days were coming back to your mind as you thought of an answer.

"Well, you can… try to stand naked in front of a mirror, maybe after you shower, and see the qualities of your body that you like the most."

“Would that work?”

“It might.”

“You sure?”

“Uh… Yes.”

He stood there, silently looking at the floor as he nodded. He muttered something that sounded like a ‘thanks’, and then he slowly turned around. He was visibly embarrassed, he was feeling too vulnerable to look at your face after opening up to you. Of course you immediately noticed, and, as you tried to ignore it, you found some words that you thought he might need to hear.

"Aegon," you called him, and he froze with one foot out of the room and the other inside. He turned around to look at you over his shoulder, and you sighed, "just remember that every person has his own concept of beauty, and only because someone didn't appreciate yours, it doesn't mean other girls won't… We are all beautiful under the right pair of eyes."

He clenched his jaw, gave you a small –almost unnoticeable– nod, and he left. You stood there for a few more seconds before you returned your attention to what you were supposed to be doing. The papers that now were on your desk, were waiting for you to grade them. Just the mere thought of reading through them made you sigh with exhaustion.

It was going to be a long day.

A knock on your door got you distracted enough for you to stop doing your task. The pen dropped from your hand as you turned around to find Jace with a soft smile on his face. You smiled back at him.

“Hey,” you greeted him.

“Are you too busy?” He asked, “I've brought some Chinese food to eat for dinner.”

“Let me finish revising these papers and I'll be there in a minute,” you said as he nodded.

He was about to leave, but then he returned. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he started, “the bathroom lock is broken, so you need to knock before you get in, just in case we're inside.”

“Are you guys gonna buy a new one?”

“Yes. Aemond will go tomorrow after work, we'll divide the costs afterwards,” he explained.

“Oh, alright.”

“Now, hurry or the food will get cold,” he said, and then left the room leaving the door open.

You managed to finish the paper a few minutes later, and then you went to the bathroom to wash your hands before going to eat with the rest. You did what you were told, and you knocked on the door. You waited a couple of seconds, making sure no one would reply from inside before you finally opened the door.

As soon as you opened it, you saw Aegon standing in front of the mirror and staring at himself. Naked.

“Oh, Gods!” you yelped. Your eyes involuntarily taking a quick look over him.

Damn.

“What the fuck?!” he screamed, covering his nudity with both of his hands and wildly blushing.

“Oh gods, I'm so sorry-”

“Get out!”

You acted so quickly that your legs tumbled against each other on your way out. The loud sound of the door closing behind your back echoed in the empty hall as you covered your mouth with your hand, a nervous giggle escaped from your lips before you could even try to hold it back. Your eyes were wide open, and your mind tried to process what you had just seen; Aegon fully naked.

Aemond and Jace soon appeared in the hall as they heard the screaming and the door slam. You looked at them with your breathing fast and sharp, staring at them as if you've seen a ghost. Their curiosity peaked.

“What happened?” Aemond asked, visibly worried.

“Uh- I…”

“Are you okay?” he asked again, and you started to feel a bit overwhelmed.

“I just- I need to- uh… wait for me a bit, I'll- I'll be back in a minute.”

The heat on your cheeks was impossible to ignore as you locked yourself in your room, completely ignoring their questions; you were panicking. You felt dumb, and you closed your eyes frustrated knowing that you screwed it up. You invaded his space and now he will, inevitably, put some distance with you. Now you just wanted to bury your face in the pillow out of embarrassment. How were you supposed to talk to him now that you saw him in all his glory?

And, oh gods, there was glory.

You were ashamed of what just happened; or maybe you just felt embarrassed because you couldn't help but blush at the memory of his body.

The pillow between your hands went straight to your face, muffling the groan that you let go as you fell onto your bed. Gods, you were fucked.

That very same early morning, after finishing their shift, Aegon was supposed to make his first move on the girl who had been in his mind. It was already closing time, the bar was empty at 5am and there was only him and Ceryse. She would occasionally glance at him hoping he would notice that she wore her tightest shirt for him. However, Aegon was busy trying to cheer himself up, trying to forget about that stupid chuckle of yours that still echoed in his mind, haunting him like a fucking ghost.

He had heard you, and –of course– his insecurities made him think the worst.

He was so nervous. It was almost embarrassing how sweaty his palms were; the situation was out of his control and he hated it. He was barely able to focus on his task, absentmindedly cleaning a glass with a cloth as he tried so hard to ignore her presence just to not feel so anxious. His shaky hands failed, and his plan to go unnoticed was unsuccessful; the glass slipped from his fingers and broke into pieces on the floor.

Ceryse widened her eyes and she immediately went to help him, which only made things worse for him. In a desperate attempt to keep her away, he kneeled on the floor and started to pick the glasses with his bare hands, causing small cuts all over his fingers as he did. Low curses and soft moans left his lips as the pinching pain appeared, and Ceryse —as lovely as always— tried to stop him by grabbing his hands and forcing him to stand up.

“You fool,” she mumbled, looking at the bleeding cuts on his fingertips. “You hurted yourself.”

“It's not a big deal-”

“Let me get the emergency kit, don't do anything,” she went to the manager’s office and came back in about a minute later with a red and white box in her hands. Aegon was breathing heavily. He had never felt so insecure.

With the help of a forceps, she started to remove the tiny pieces of glass from his fingers. Aegon would hold his breath, not being able to control his heartbeat when he had her so close to him; he was able to smell her perfume and see her cleavage. He knew he had to be excited, he knew he had all the reasons to enjoy that moment, but you and your stupid giggle refused to leave his mind.

“There,” she murmured as she finished. “Nice and clean.”

Aegon looked at his fingers and noticed how small drops of blood were forming in the tiny cuts. Ceryse took a small tissue and gently tapped on the wounds, cleaning them. Aegon had his lips slightly parted, stiff as a rock as he was almost scared to move. He cursed again, and she softly smiled at him as she finished.

“There you go,” she said, “clean and healed.”

“Uh… Thanks,” Aegon replied, giving her an awkward smile.

She remained silent for a bit, looking at him up and down through her long, blonde lashes. She was visibly flirting with him, but he seemed to be ignoring her. Ceryse had been waiting long enough for him to make the first move, so she now took advantage of their situation; both of them completely alone in the closed bar, about to finish their night shift. She wasn't going to let this opportunity go.

“Are you done playing that game?” She asked. Aegon frown.

“What?”

“I've noticed the way you look at me, Aegon…” she murmured. His breathing was caught on his throat when she started to slowly unbutton her blouse. “I want to let you know that… I've been wanting the same thing for a long time.”

“What- I- uh… what?”

She giggled, and it was the sexiest sound he had ever heard, yet it wasn't enough to suppress your goddamn laugh. A small ‘fuck’ escaped his lips before he could hold it back, and her hands were pressed on his thighs as she leaned towards him. Aegon hummed, cheeks burning red as he felt so exposed all of the sudden.

“We're alone now,” she murmured, brushing her lips against his jaw. “We can do it right here, right now…”

“I don't know if- If it's a good idea…”

She looked shocked.

“Is Aegon Targaryen rejecting an adventure?” she teased him. “Who are you?”

“There's cameras.”

“I turned them off when I went to the office.”

“What if someone walks in?”

“That would only make things spicier.”

“What if it's Nick,” he said, referring to their manager.

“He won't come until 10am.”

He ran out of excuses. The eagerness was visible in her eyes as she bit her lip.

“I'm done waiting, Aegon…” she murmured.

“Ceryse-”

She silenced him with a kiss, and he widened his eyes. He was unable to concentrate on whatever was happening at that moment. His heart was racing, his breathing suddenly ragged, and his hands still shaking as he tried to hold her waist.

Aegon tried to focus and enjoy this. He closed his eyes and followed the kiss, but things got a bit more complicated when she daringly grabbed one of his hands and put them in her rear. Somehow, he felt uncomfortable, so instead of giving her a squeeze, he moved his hands to her hips.

Fuck, he wanted to run and hide.

When her hands attempted to go under his shirt, he squirmed away from her touch, still managing to keep his lips pressed against hers. She giggled, thinking he was just playing hard to get, but as she repeated the action, the outcome was the same.

“Come on, baby,” she murmured against his lips, starting to feel the awkwardness of the situation.

“Just- wait… Ceryse, wait.”

“Don't be shy now…” she said, biting his lip. Aegon hissed.

“I need you to wait- shit,” he said as he squirmed away from her touch once again.

She leaned back, taking a few steps backwards before she looked at him. Her hands immediately went to her chest, to cover the skin that was exposed thanks to her unbuttoned blouse. Her cheeks lit up like fire as she realized how uncomfortable Aegon was.

“Shit…” she murmured, feeling deeply ashamed. “I thought- I thought you liked me. I'm sorry…”

“I do, I swear, I- Ceryse!”

“I'm so sorry, Aegon.”

“No, Ceryse, wait-”

She turned around and left, picking her bag from the counter and leaving the bar in a hurry. Aegon stood there, frozen in his place, his purple eyes filled with confusion to what had just happened, and once the realization hit him like a truck, he brushed his hands against his face and sighed.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Back in the apartment, you were sitting drinking your morning coffee before going to school. You were staring at the news on the TV before you heard the front door slamming close. You jumped in your place, looking confused until Aegon appeared in your sight; your cheeks immediately getting warm as the image of his nudity came back to your mind. However, the expression on his face made you forget about all the embarrassment, and you worried instantly. You hurried to stand up from the kitchen table and go towards him, he groaned as soon as he noticed you were getting closer.

“Aegon, are you alright?” You asked, but there was no answer.

He walked past you, going to the kitchen and ignoring you completely. Of course that your preoccupation did not let you notice such a gesture.

“Hey, is there something you want to talk about?” You insisted, trying to look over his shoulder. “I know what happened might be a little embarrassing for you, but I just want you to know that I barely saw anything!”

Aegon ignored you again.

“Aegon, come on,” you said. “I can help you with anything-”

“Can you?” He interrupted you as he finally turned around and acknowledged your presence. “Because last time you helped me, you cause me another fucking trauma!”

Your eyes widened in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, closing his eyes while he debated inside his mind whether to tell you what had just happened or just keep it to himself. But you were annoyingly insistent, and he just wanted to be alone all day.

He always wanted to be alone when things went wrong.

“You fucked me up even more!” he exclaimed, making you lean back and your lower lip trembled, feeling awful. “I couldn't fuck Ceryse because your stupid laugh was replaying in my mind over and over again,” he confessed. “Like a fucking reminder that my body sucks!”

“Aegon, I didn't-”

“You fucking laughed at me!”

“I didn't laugh at you, Aegon!” you raised your voice, matching his tone. “I was nervous, it was an awkward situation. I saw you naked! Of course I would get nervous!”

Aegon went silent, pressing his lips in a thin line as his eyebrows furrowed. You took a step closer, but he took a step back. You sighed defeated, knowing that all the progress you have made to become his friend had easily vanished in a matter of seconds.

“Look,” you said. “I'm sorry, Aegon. I never meant to make you feel bad.”

He scoffed.

“Yeah, as if a simple apology would fix it,” he said, pettily.

You both stayed in silence for a few seconds, your lips pressed in a thin line as you tried to come up with a solution to your problem. It was certain that you did not have too many options, and Aegon was not giving signs of having an idea to fix it either. That is why you panicked, and your hands went to the hem of your shirt and started to lift it up.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he asked, scandalized.

“I'm getting naked so we can call it even,” you explained, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

“I don't want to see you naked! What is wrong with you?”

“Well, then what do you want me to do? I can't get inside your brain and take my laugh out of it.”

“I certainly don't want to see you naked!” he said.

“Alright, I'm sorry, okay?!” you quickly said, looking at his eyes. “I'm sorry that I laughed, and I'm sorry it made you feel bad.”

“That doesn't-”

“Shut up,” you interrupted him. “You are not ugly, you're hot. There, I said it! You have a handsome face and a hot body, and even though you're so grumpy sometimes, your face compensates for it. You know why? Because you are handsome, you idiot.”

“I-”

“I wish I could go with that girl and beat her fucking ass for what she did to you. I wish!” His eyes widened, he was slightly flustered. “She didn't know what she had. You're a good catch, Aegon, and if you don't start to believe it for yourself then no one will.”

You left the room in an overly dramatic walk, leaving Aegon behind with his eyes wide open and his cheeks red. His breathing, somehow, was fast and unsteady. His blood was running quickly down his body as he cleared his throat and turned around to worry about his breakfast. Yet, your words had left a feeling in his gut which felt quite nice.

Aemond suddenly walked out of his room and stopped when he saw Aegon standing in the middle of the open kitchen, staring at the unbaked bacon in the pan. He was weirded out by his brother's strange attitude.

“What's wrong with you?” Aemond asked.

Aegon woke up from his trance and shook his head.

“Nothing.”

He didn't sound too convincing.

“We made a pact, Aegon,” he reminded him, going towards the coffee machine and pouring some of it on a cup. “You are not allowed to sleep with her.” he whispered those last words just to make sure you wouldn't hear it.

“What are you talking about?” he scoffed.

“Just a reminder,” Aemond shrugged, sipping his coffee while Aegon finally turned on the stove.

“Shut up.”

It was 6pm when you arrived back in the apartment after a long day at school. You were dragging your feet through the hall and towards your room, noticing that neither Aemond or Jace had arrived yet, and Aegon was probably in his room. It had been a long day, and the only thing that you craved was a nice and warm shower before going to bed. It was a need.

After your discussion with Aegon in the morning and the tiny bug in your chest that was making you feel guilty all day, you needed some time to relax, to stand beneath the warm water and let it wash away all the stress of your body. So that's what you did.

You took off your clothes the moment you stepped into the bathroom, then quickly got in the shower, feeling the warmth wrapping your body. Your shoulders immediately relaxed and you saw all your troubles vanished in that instant, you let yourself sigh.

Your mind went blank and all you could feel was the warmth and comfort the water produced. It was lovely, it made you forget about all the issues and troubles.

When you finished, you stood there for a bit longer, enjoying the last moments of peace before you would cross your path with Aegon's.

What you did not expect was that, at the very moment that you opened the shower curtain, Aegon opened the door.

And he looked at you.

Naked.

You screamed as your hands went to cover yourself as much as you could. Aegon's mouth dropped as he stared longer than he should have, his pale cheeks turning red as he swallowed hard.

“Aegon!” you yelled his name.

Only then he seemed to react, because he immediately muttered a small ‘sorry’ and then he closed the door. You immediately took the towel from the hanger and you covered yourself, breathing fast. You almost slipped in your way out of the shower, silly movements as you were still trying to take in what had happened.

That goddamn door lock.

Then, in the middle of the silence, you heard him speak.

“Well, I guess we’re even now, aren't we?” he joked on the other side of the door.

“Shut up!” you said, between nervous laughs.

He laughed it off too, and that sound made you smile wider as your cheeks got warm.

It was true though; now you can finally call it even.

BOLD MEANS I COULDN’T TAG YOU

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[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 4

(No gif today since I can't find one that fits)

Synopsis: Reader has a small mental breakdown over her developing feelings for the Doctor.

A/n: yall are the realest bitches I ever met for enjoying this. I love you. Also, I'm going to keep some things mysterious for now. But hey, I got a vague plot and I pound out these to keep the scaries away.

Stupid, stupid and foolish! Pig-headed! Dumb! Childish! Total Moron! You chastised yourself as you went into the women’s restroom and locked yourself in a stall.

Where did you get off developing feelings for a professor? Where did you get off by allowing yourself to get yourself to even begin that? Especially this fucking fast? You knew how men were! You knew that even the good ones weren’t ‘good’ in an empirical sense!

They lie, they cheat. They steal. They manipulate. They go on their phones and take hundreds from “Timmy’s uni fund” and transfer it to their private bank account (often that their poor, downtrodden wives didn’t see or have much access to!) to get their dicks fucking wet. They refuse to shower and they bullshit their way into places they really shouldn’t be.

But him? His smile? His poetry? The way he adored his wife even from a few sentences. Like every cell of his body belonged to this dead woman? The deep Scottish brogue? The way he was tender and cared for every single student? Including your dumb ass? The arch of his nose…and his hands?

It got inside you so quickly.

You continue to internally scold yourself, breaking down into tears.

It borderlined on cliché. Hot for teacher. Daddy issues. One man made you feel special so you got giddy and went and got yourself a crush. You truly were exhibiting what people called “Fatherless Behavior”!

You sobbed deeper into your arms, bringing your legs against your chest. Trying to keep balanced on the toilet, you gently banged your head on the wall beside you a few times. You had to meet with the accommodations people in about forty-five minutes. You had to pull yourself together. Even if it would demonstrate a point. You still had to retain some of your dignity.

Plus, you thought quite pathetically, what if he was out roaming and saw you like this?

You banged your head on the wall about it some more.

You let yourself cry for a few more minutes. Just to exorcize whatever was in your system. You weren’t going to allow yourself to cry over a man, even if that was exactly what you were up to!

After that little emotional outburst was over, you scraped yourself off the toilet and back into the general restroom area. You had to put yourself back together.

Splashing your face off with cool water in the wash basin, you noticed that your skin was inflamed and you had some pimples on your forehead.

“Oh, that’s attractive.” You muttered and started on trying to find the willpower to not pick at them. That’d make it worse. And would affect everything. No amount of makeup covers a sucking wound in a visible area.

You didn’t have much on you except for a medicated chap stick and some concealer, so you made do.

You really regretted listening to him and not smoking now…

Deep breaths, you told yourself. Just keep breathing. Healthy stuff. Plenty of people had told you before. 1, 2 3. Hold, longer 1, 2 3 release. Wash, rinse, repeat.

It worked a bit.

You didn’t work tonight, or tomorrow night. You could afford a bit of a drink. Tonight. Tomorrow would be too late and you’d have dry skin for Thursday night.

That’s what you needed. A night of shit TV, skincare and most of a large bottle of coconut rum drowned in a can of Coke Zero.

Would help remove the feelings coiled in your chest a lot.

Reset the system.

Remove ‘it’, whatever ‘it’ truly was…

You steadied yourself and went to the Disabilities Office and sat in the waiting room after signing in for your appointment.

You pulled out your phone and started flipping through a familiar social media site. The memes perked you up and put a smile on your face. Helped you keep composure. You even replied to a few mutual’s messages and congratulated the one on their new job.

Your meeting came and went. Apparently you could go to student-lead tutoring from people who already took the classes. You got signed up and thanked the councilor, taking the emails for the students to message them and get more in-depth about the struggles you were having

You’d do it later, once you got home…

Speaking of which, you stopped at the store and got a can of Coke and a bottle of rum before trudging inside of it.

You started studying and sending out the emails to your new tutors. Truly a task from hell.

You stopped yourself from having thoughts of another type of tutoring.

The drink you mixed was strong. Perhaps too strong. The show you put on in the background was harshing the vibes so you closed the tab it was on. You checked the site for your place of work. You scoffed at your photos and wondered how little you could pay to get a professional update to them.

Back to school work. Back to projects. You couldn’t afford to let yourself have a stray thought.

The liquor highlighted the slight soft pain you had on the side of your head from the pounding you gave it. You touched it gingerly and gave up.

You weighed your options, you could drop the class and take the failing marks. Or you could be brave and normal. And take the class, just skate by. Hardly ever speak. Take the lowest grade and still fail.

It was a matter of what left you with the most amount of dignity, but also didn’t waste your money or time.

Or heart ache.

Could you really spite yourself like that?

Or just cut off contact for good.

What would not break your heart nor your bank nor your ethics? Was there any option that left all intact and unscarred? Let alone your precious, stupid dignity?

You had too much on your plate as is, now this stupid crush?

And disposing of it?

You drained the rest of your glass and did the bare minimum in the shower. Mainly just let the hot water spill over your head while you stared at the wall.

You put even less effort in on your skin care and teeth brushing.

Just climbed in bed and let sleep find your semi-drunk body and fully-fucked up and over brain.

Your alarm shot you out of bed, leaving your heart racing and your chest heaving. You just didn’t go to get up, let alone do anything. You sent in a mass email from your phone saying that you were sick. You’d let yourself go to work tomorrow night. But you didn’t want to set foot on that campus until you had a better, more stable grip on yourself.

You had a hangover and a sore throat anyways, so it wasn’t a total lie.

Responsibilities be dammed. You chose to rot in bed and doomscroll on social media. It was your mental breakdown and you chose to make it worse. It was your right! And entirely your fault!

You kept yourself in that ball of blankets far too long. Going in and out of consciousness, phone in hand.

Before you knew it, it was Thursday. Late afternoon. You sighed and got up.

You were quite dehydrated and famished. Hardly leaving the bed and relying on the cups that littered the side of your table for your main sources of water for well over twenty-four hours had left you weak and you fainted upon leaving the coil of your bedding.

When you came to, you thanked your lucky stars and any God that may have been paying a half-lick of attention to you in that moment.

You kept it simple and reheated some Chinese takeaway you had in your fridge. It was edible. That’s all you could ask for at the moment. Edible and got you through the waking world…

You went into your bathroom and started not only the long ritual you did to prepare yourself for work, but also repair work for the past two days of neglect. It was hard work. Your face was inflamed, your left side had creases in the skin from the corners of your blankets bunched up.

You stretched out and did a bit of a warm up exercise.

After all of that malarkey, you started chugging a bunch of cold water. Then you started to get your work bag together.

This, this, that, that other thing there, you kept mentally chiding yourself. You were out of materials, hopefully one of your coworkers would be able to lend you some. Just enough to get you by until Friday when the shops would be open. You were pulling a double shift anyways, so what was a sneak out and in. Maybe you’d convince the owner/manager to let you work when you’re usually not on during Friday. Whatever little cash you would make would certainly be welcome, and certainly wouldn’t hurt. You could sleep between appointments or walk-ins!

Maybe you would break your promise to Professor Smith and get yourself a pack of cigarettes and to hell with the entire engagement!

You stretched again and got into street clothes.

You repeated to yourself that you had to keep your mind on money and money on your mind. That it came naturally. Whatever all those dorky manifestations you occasionally saw said. Anything. Just to keep your spirits up and get your mind off other subjects.

Money on your mind was a whole lot healthier than a certain silver-haired professor being in there. And his class you were skipping today…

Who knows, maybe something bad would happen to you and you would be sworn off men in any way except the bare minimum to survive this world for good! You thought catastrophically.

You slid on your street shoes and your coat, slung your work bag over your shoulder and made your way out your door.

What was that one song? And how did it go?

‘So for once in my life

Let me get what I want

Lord knows, it would be the first time…”

Yeah, like that.

[marigold-hills]

fish market

(Little bit of original writing)

We are walking down a hill. You and I.

The hill is steep. I have to overcorrect with each step. There is a pull in my stomach like a fish hook, dragging me down - so I grab onto your hand.

You, a counter-weight, a word I learned when building shelves.

At the bottom of the hill is the ocean (the Channel). It sprawls from us to France. I know there are fish in it because I’ve seen them while swimming and I know there are crabs because they sell them, de-shelled and made into paste, on the harbour.

When we get to the beach, we sit under the Arches.

(The Arches are hollows in the above walkway, backed up into the cliffside. People have sex there and do drugs there and families hide their children there, during hot summer days, so they don’t get heatstroke.)

You are carrying the bag and you open it. Inside there is wine (red), bread (French), and something that I can drink. I’m growing a thing inside me that means I can’t drink the wine.

It, a zygote, a word I learned in a beige-walled office at the hospital.

Growing it feels like learning words.

I’m drinking the coke feeling half guilty and half elated. It’s sugar caffeine something no one knows. Everybody knows what it does to mentos, to old coins, to jewellery, to dirty toilets. I drink it because it tastes too good not to, and the zygote makes me want it more than anything. It tastes like crisp air, fresh and cool, like the bubbles in my veins when you say you love me (I love you, I love you).

The wind comes from the sea. You, a steady presence, as you tear off a piece of bread and feed it to me with your fingers. Sturdy things that built shelves to hold my books.

We were here last year and watched a boat sink. You called the coastguard. We were here the year before and watched the harbour built. The year before, we watched the moon rise red. And before. And before.

This year we’re watching the beginning. Everything comes in cycles.

The fish come - their legs spindly and not legs.

The one at the front wears seaweed like we would wear a crown. Around what isn’t shoulders, a string of pebbles.

The ones in the middle carry driftwood and bales of plastic to build the market stall.

The ones in the back carry nothing, wear nothing, look a bit lame and like they’re still in the ocean.

The fish set up closest to the Arches. It’s a good spot because people like to sit under the Arches (and have sex take drugs hide their children). They build their stand and fill it with pebbles, seaweed; it smells like brine. (Open a pickle jar, take a swallow.)

You, an empath - a word I learned at university - ask if they need help. You’re taller than the fish, even the yellowfin tuna spreading the seaweed to look more appealing. They ask you to do the marquee. It’s an old thing of torn plastic, painted white with chalk from the cliffs. You help, secure it to the driftwood with old rusty nails one of the fish hands you.

While the fish set up, the crabs come out, sideways, rushing across the sand. They are all brown in colour, like mud, except for one which is a bit more brick-red. That one goes off by itself a bit, looks at the fish. Cocks its head in a way its exoskeleton (a word I learned from horror movies) shouldn’t allow it to. Then skitters - one pincer after another in a blur of movement - back to the group.

The crabs set up like a military. Efficient. They’ve been placed by the ramp entrance to the beach, which is a spot almost as good as by the Arches. People will pass them first thing in, while they’re still excited, and last thing out, when they want to hold on to the experience.

The crabs are displaying bottle caps. They are separating them into groups, but they can’t read nor see colour. The logic of it escapes me. Some of the bottle caps are metal, old and rusted, some plastic and brand new, white logos on reds and blues easy to identify.

You’re done helping the fish. I’m done watching the crabs. More stalls go up on the beach, manned by sea creatures I don’t know the names of. (Taxonomy, a word I learned from a joke on social media.) There are more fish groups, separate from the first one. Some are preparing to sell food. I expect it’s vegetarian.

More people are coming to the beach now. You know some of them from the bar, I know some from the library. The ones we know ask about the zygote. We make the same joke every time (“getting enough sleep now in preparation!”) and they all respond in kind (“when we had ours, etc etc”). The repetition is both grating and soothing. I get to rehearse before each conversation.

Misanthropy, a word I learned in a different hospital, at a different time.

You come back and drink the wine. I drink the coke. We both eat the bread and watch as a group of monkfish and a group of something that looks like plankton argue about a space they are setting their market up on. Someone got a booking wrong, evidently, because they’ve both been placed at a spot closest to the sealine.

A thing of salt and waves comes to check on them and stop the commotion. Diffuse the situation before it escalates. It is good at de-escalation, this thing. Calm sounds, although not a voice. I don’t know what this thing is, have no word for it. It hurts to look at it directly, but not the way it hurts to look at the sun.

It’s like a depth, underwater, like opening eyes in the Ocean and the sting of salt that greets them.

Are you ready? you ask and reach out your hand to help me up from the sand. You’ve packed our bottles and the empty paper-plastic bag the bread came in.

We weave through the stalls, you half a step in front of me. We’re not used to the change in my gait yet. I always lag just one breath behind now; before we used to walk step in step and hand in hand.

There is a stand with sole selling rainbow fish scales strung up onto wires to wear as necklaces. Next, mackerel with interesting pieces of driftwood, like grabbing finger bones, smoothed through an age spent in the water. You want to buy a couple of those. Will look good in a vase with some flowers you say, and I’m inclined to agree (because I always agree when you speak of the House - compromise or cooperation, both words I learned through trial and error).

The mackerel manning the stand looks old somehow. There is a suggestion of wrinkles around its beady, yellow-rimmed eyes and flat-split mouth. It doesn’t blink. It stares somewhere to the right of you, or maybe to the left, it’s hard to say with how the eyes are situated (one on each side of its head, monocular vision, prey vision). It’s probably handy for spotting thieves.

The mackerel want a lock of hair in exchange. It doesn’t say so, but we both understand anyway. They use it to make their nests softer, for the eggs to adhere to it instead of rock crevices. Makes it easier to protect the eggs from prediction, from cannibalism, accidents, even while they’re being guarded. Your hair is too short so I offer mine and the old mackerel snips a chunk of it off with rusted scissors. It’s a choppy cut. Not much, probably not enough to be noticed, but I leave a part of me with the fish, and we move on.

The thing of salt comes at us sideways, like it’s not coming at all. It looks to you, then to me, then to the zygote. Reaches out what isn’t a hand, touches the bottom of my sternum with what isn’t a finger. Says something like everything comes and comes again. I feel a flutter even though it’s too early and the thing says next year you will see.

We gather our purchases. Head back home, across the beach, past the crabs, up the hill.

[jmpphoto]

Coke Bottle Arch by James Marvin Phelps Via Flickr: Coke Bottle Arch Valley of Fire Nevada October 2023

[donut-cloud]

Lifesteal incorrect quotes

Rek: How was the honeymoon? Branzy: Clown got drunk and tried to destroy our marriage certificate. Branzy: He said, “good luck trying to return me without the receipt”. Branzy: I love him.

Zam: Leo was banned from the buffet place, so we had to go out of town to get food.

Leo: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it.

Zam: Leo, you ate a chair.

Ashswag: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go.

Rekrap: Those are wanted posters

Ash: You're pretty bad at this.

Red: Thank you!

Ash: Wha- That wasn't a compliment!

Red: I've decided to focus on the positive aspects of life now!

Red: So you just called me pretty!

Ash: Wth

Parrot, to Rek: There are two types of people in this group. Observe.

Parrot: The floor is lava!

Vortex: *quickly helps Ro, Zam and Woogie onto the counter*

Mapicc: *pushes Spoke off the sofa*

Parrot: See?

Subz: If we die, I'm going to get Vitalasy’s ghost to teach my ghost how to play music, so I can annoy the hell out of your ghost.

Clutch: I'll just hire Oasis's ghost to kick your ghost's ass.

Oasis: My ghost won't associate with your ghost

Zam, texting: Leo, there’s a spider on the outside of the bathroom door. Can you get rid of it?

Zam, texting: Leo?

Leo, texting: Leo is dead. You’re next.

Leo, texting: love, The Spider.

Branzy: Can I have some water?

Vitalasy: *starts chugging his water bottle* Vitalasy: *chokes from drinking too fast*

Vitalasy: *spills water all over himself* Vitalasy, coughing: I don't have any water for people that betray purple duo >:(

Mapicc: We’re playing Scrabble. It’s a nightmare.

Rek: Scrabble? Scrabble’s great.

Mapicc: Not when you’re playing with Ro, it’s not. They put words like “carpe diem” and I put “dog.

Zam: Why are you like this??

Ash: I used too much "No More Tears" shampoo as a kid and I haven't felt a single emotion since

Spoke: What if the 'g' in 'gif' is silent?

Clown: Get the fuck out of my house.

Spoke: What gif I don't want to?

Clown: Fuck You

Zam: What if I pour coffee in my cereal instead of milk?

Don, walking by and taking the coffee pot: And what if you don't?

Zam: That's okay we still have orange juice!

Spepticle: It’s so nice to feel wanted, you know?

Branzy loading a crossbow: NOT BY THE LAW!!

Ashswag: I am not out of control! I'm a law abiding citizen!

Reddoons: Really? Name one law.

Ashswag: Don't kill people?

Reddoons: That's on me. I set the bar too low

Ashswag: *appear*

Reddoons: Ah, we meet again, my old arch enemies.

PrinceZam:…

PrinceZam: I thought I was your arch enemy?

Reddoons: I have a life outside of you, Zam

Hairdresser: How would you like your hair cut?

Clown: Preferably with scissors, but a sword could be badass.

Branzy: Sweet dog you got there. Police: Yes, this is our new drug sniffing dog. Branzy: Still training huh? Police: What do you mean? Branzy: Branzy: Never mind.

Branzy: Welcome to my very first vlog, in which I try different hair products! Branzy: *sprays hairspray in their mouth* Branzy: Well, right off the bat I can tell you this one is not very good.

Branzy: I would do anything for money. *later* Branzy, covered in blood: THE STATEMENT STILL STANDS!

Spoke: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.

*the TV is freaking out* Branzy: Don’t worry, you have to treat an electronic like you treat a patient on life support. *unplugs the TV, then plugs it back in again. nothing changes* Branzy: Yeah, that didn’t work with my grandma either.

Mappic: So I can either do something dumb that could very well get me injured or I can listen to Ro and not do the thing, Mappic: Well there’s a clear right answer here. Mappic: *proceeds to throw five packs of mentos into a barrel full of diet coke

Spoke: I lost my fish, can you help me find it? Parrot, cooking the fish: What? I couldn't hear you, please speak up.

Subz: I trusted you! Vitalasy: Why

Subz: What is wrong with you? Vitalasy: Loaded question. Elaborate.

Vitalasy: How does one turn their emotions off? Subz: Okay, so first go to settings. Subz: I'm a fucking idiot, I thought that said emojis at first. Vitalasy: No, I'm still willing to try this, go ahead. I'm at settings, what do I do next?

Vitalasy : I am literally evil incarnate. Vitalasy : I’m not actually, I just enjoy being evil. Vitalasy : Which I think actually makes it even more evil because I’m making a conscious effort.

Subz: We’re all in this together. If one of us falls, we all fall. Nobody is expendable on this team. Vitalasy : Sounds fake but ok.

Clown walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: Branzy, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK. Branzy, sipping coffee happily: I love you too :)

Zam: Hey, I see those leaves, where are you from? Don: Canada. Zam: AAYYYE, I KNEW IT! ME TOO! Parrot: Did you just identify a country by looking at its leaves

McClutch: Ah, Hello again. We really need to stop meeting like this. Vitalasy : Maybe we would, if you would sTOP BREAKING INTO MY FUCKING HOUSE!!!

Vitalasy : Ashswag, we're hungry! Branzy: Ashswag! What's for dinner? Subz: We're hungry, Ashswag! Ashswag, frying a bottle of ketchup over the stove: *screams*

Clown, confused and exasperated: Branzy, how do you plan on telling a bear to go vegan? Branzy: Politely

Reddoons, very tired: Can I sleep in your bed? Ashswag : *half asleep* Red, this is a queen-sized bed. That means it’s for *gestures vaguely to himself* the Queen.

Reddoons: Hey, can you do me a favor? Ashswag: Sorry, I have to go do literally anything other than this. Reddoons: You don’t even have a legitimate reason? Ashswag: Oh, no, I do. Reddoons: Well, what is it? Ashswag: You see, I simply don’t give a fuck.

Parrot, smugly, after security arrives to escort Branzy and Ashswag out: So, do you wanna walk out of here or do you wanna be carried out? Branzy, in defeat: Let’s go. Ashswag: Wait. Branzy: What? Ashswag: I’d kinda like to be carried out...

Vitalasy : Adults are the most insanely stupid people I have the displeasure of interacting with. Branzy, referring to themself and Subz: Even us? Vitalasy : Especially you guys. Subz: Branzy: Subz: Petition to kick Vitalasy out so he stops insulting us. Branzy: Seconded.

Branzy: I just found out that humans are capable of fitting a light bulb into their mouth with ease but can’t take it out without shattering it, and now I have to physically restrain myself from putting a light bulb in my mouth

Vitalasy : FUCK THE CHAIR. PARDON ME FOR MAKING MYSELF COMFORTABLE DURING A SINCERE HEART TO HEART DISCUSSION WITH A DEAR FRIEND IN NEED! Vitalasy : BUT THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO CEASE STRADDLING THIS DEEPLY OFFENSIVE PIECE OF FURNITURE! AWAY WITH YE, FOUR LEGGED TEMPTRESS! DISTRACT US NO MORE WITH THE MOST BASIC AND UTILITARIAN FORM OF COMFORT YOU SUPPLY! Ashswag: Vitalasy just threw a tantrum about a chair. Ashswag: I just won Vitalasy Tantrum Bingo.

Branzy: Come on, Ashswag! How any times do I have to apologize? Ashswag: Once! Branzy: ...No.

Vitalasy : So we're gathered here today for a very special reason and I think you'll all agree with me here. Vitalasy : And if you don't well then fuck you. Vitalasy : I'm looking at you, Subz, you jealous mop.

Reddoons: When I see  attractive people like Ashswag, I just laugh because I know if we lived in the Aztec culture, they'd be sacrificed for their beauty. Vitalasy : I mean, that's one way to cope with not being attractive. McClutch: Works for me.

Branzy: I warned you. Branzy: I'm perfect.

Ashswag: I'd make fun of your height but there isn't enough to make fun of.

Vitalasy : I just wanna be called cute 21/7. Branzy: Why no 24/7? Vitalasy : Snack breaks.

Branzy: So I got this amazing plan! Rekrap : We fail almost every time you say that. Branzy: Well this is the same! But with a chicken involved.

McClutch: I wouldn’t put it in those words exactly. Branzy: Why not? McClutch: Because I don't know what they mean.

McClutch, as a child, reading their school assignment out loud: I love my library because... McClutch, mouthing words while writing: I love reading, fuck you.

Vitalasy: I hate you. Branzy: Well, according to this picture I drew of us holding hands, that is untrue.

Clown: I love you. Branzy: I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that. *Clown and Branzy kiss passionately* Rekrap, to Chief : You owe me 20 dollars.

Vitalasy : I'm usually that person who has no idea what's going on.

*out grocery shopping* Subz: *takes a free sample twice* Subz: Robbery and Fraud. I am a Rebel.

Subz: You... you saved me. You're not a beast at all. YOU'RE A HERO, AN UGLY UGLY UGLY HERO! Ashswag: Call me ugly again, and maybe I will eat you.

Ashswag: I am an expert at identifying birds. Reddoons: Okay, what about those ones flying over there? Ashswag: Yeah, they're all birds.

Ashswag: Ugh, there’s always that weak bitch in the group who isn’t down with murder. Ashswag: *glares at Spepticle* Spepticle: Well, sorry I have morals!

Vitalasy , seeing a banana on the car seat: What the FUCK?? Vitalasy , buckling the banana up: Fucking buckle UP, it’s the LAW!

Clown: Branzy, can you help me? All of my clothes keep disappearing for some reason. Branzy, wearing a hoodie that's 5 times bigger than their size: Spooky.

Branzy: Protip is you do not feel good about yourself after eating tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce. Vitalasy : What's wrong with you?? Branzy: I literally JUST said I ate tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce?? Pay attention. McClutch: No, they mean other than that. Branzy: Ohhhhhh. Branzy: I haven't slept in 4 days.

Vitalasy : What's worse than a heartbreak? McClutch: Stepping on a cat's tail and not being able to explain that you're sorry.

Vitalasy: I have been tricked, I have been backstabbed, and I have quite possibly been bamboozled.

Parrot: I'm not mean. Name one mean thing I’ve ever done. Spoke : When we were younger, you convinced me eggs weren't real. Parrot: They're not. Spoke : Haha, very funny. Parrot: I'm serious. Didn't you hear? Spoke: No... what happened? Parrot: ...Why would you fall for this again-

Reddoons : I intend to stay pissed at you forever. Reddoons: Even if I seem helpful. Ashswag : Then you're in luck. Ashswag: Because you don't.

McClutch: What happened to Ashswag? Subz: They died. McClutch: They what? Subz: They died, but they’re okay. McClutch: …Can you please clarify? Ashswag: Clarification is for the weak.

Branzy: *pitches an idea* Chief, impressed: Huh, there might be something here! Rekrap, under their breath: Yeah, a lawsuit.

Rekrap: Isn’t a bit dangerous? Branzy: Rek, please. We’ve in a lot of unexpected predicaments before and we always escape unhurt. Rekrap: ... Branzy: Okay, we sometimes escape unhurt. Rekrap: ... Branzy: Alright, we escaped unhurt once... Then we hurt ourselves in the way home.

[naveries]

bandmates!

au. predebut band beomgyu + young performer y/n

!summary. y/n dreamt of it daily, the vision she held close to her heart. an endless ocean of crowd, singing notes only the heavens have ever heard as she strut down the stage. for it to all become her reality. a performer. she was determined desperate. she hoped to have it all under control. but then who, what was that plagued her mind, this feeling.

!includes. fluff, angst? /high school band au /mentions of physical abuse

03. slap my wrist

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choibeomgyu: Are you all downstairs? choiyeoljin: Yeah but dont worry, we ran into a few of jiu's friend's and decided to help. choiyeoljin: Were on our way up! choibeomgyu: Oh okay, make sure you have the gummies! choiyeoljin: And no thank you? I'll eat them all myself choibeomgyu: NOOOOO WAIT PLEASE I'M SORRY! choibeomgyu: THANK YOU YEOL JIN YOU'RE THE BEST EVEN IF YOUR VOICE ISN'T AS GOOD AS MINE! choiyeoljin: IS THAT SUPPOSE TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER? choibeomgyu: Yes indeed, it was. choiyeoljin: Anyways, head to the classroom where the other band practices. choiyeoljin: You know, the one with the girl you like to stalk. choibeomgyu: I WASN'T STALKING HER!?

he exhales heavily.

a second later he hears yeoljin and the band making their way up the stairs.

deciding to meet them halfway, he jogs down.

"oh hey, there you are" jiu says as they find beomgyu making his way towards them.

"here let me carry those" as he grabs the bag from jiu's hand.

"oh thanks. by the way, this is souha and aeri"

they all exchange greetings, resuming their journey up the stairs

"so why the sudden change in location?" beomgyu turns his head

"well these two were kind enough to help us and their room was already set up, they suggested if it was alright to move venues!" yeoljin exclaimed excitedly to have more company

"the more the merrier!" aeri shouted as she lifted the drinks she was holding in the air and everyone laughs as they all have arrived.

you three were shocked to find more than one band members following behind souha and aeri.

"what's going on? what's the occasion?" you ask puzzled. minji interrupts you asking

"and who are THOSE for?" sharp tone and straight to the point

"for ME?" she reaches for one of the drinks in souhas' hand, only for her to lift it up out of reach.

"yep! and it was all my idea"

yeol jin barges in the middle with his hands on his hips.

"oh was it?"

jiu inquires ramming a bottle of coke into yeoljin's stomach.

"AISH! WHAT IS WITH YOU ALL AND BEING VIOLENT"

he yelps in pain gripping the bottle of coke to his stomach with his back arched.

beomgyu sneaks up behind yeoljin with two drinks, handing one to souha.

“well let’s start eating before the drinks become warm” he says holding up a bottle of sprite.

“cheers!”

-

you were glad to see everyone was getting along swiftly, you were beginning to think of the excitement of a rival band, you were lost in your head sitting by aeri.

naturally, after some time you grew a bit thirsty from the snacks

"do we have enough drinks?" you asked

"well hana and i are okay with sharing this cola and kyor is drinking from her water bottle" jiu says sitting between kyor and hana.

we overestimated the amount of drinks beomgyu and his friends had bought, so he had to end up sharing.

“well everyone was suppose to drink 1, and i left one in the bag for y/n to get” yeol jin adds on.

you were confused, “but there wasn’t any drinks left when you told me to check” tilting your head. he could’ve sworn he left one in there.

“oh was that for y/n? i thought no one was drinking that one” beomgyu jumps in, a few heads turning to him.

munbin snickers hiding his head behind jaeyun’s

“shoot, y/n you can still take it if you want, i only drank once” beomgyu gestures his drink towards you. your eyes gleam in worried shock.

HIS DRINK? you inwardly scream hiding more of the shock behind your pretty exterior

“i-“ before you were be able to say anything aeri buds in suggesting, "then it’s settled? beomgyu can just share drinks with y/n" placing a hand on beomgyu’s shoulder.

minji chokes on her drink

“HELLO? I’M DRINKING THAT TOO?!” souha yells taking the drink away from minji.

“HOW CAN YOU NOT EXPECT ME TO REACT THAT WAY? THAT PRETTY BOY SHARING WITH OUR BABY? NO WAY, NOT HAPPENING” minji says placing her hands on her hips glaring at beomgyu.

“WAIT Y/N YOU CAN TAKE IT! I HAVE SOMEWHERE TO GO IN A BIT! BUT YOU DONT HAVE TO IF YOU DONT WANT TO!” he turns towards you, raising his hands in defense.

“Y/N YOU ARE NOT DRINKING FROM HIS MOUTH!”

“W-WHAT?”

beomgyu flinches, his face is beet red.

“SHE CAN DRINK FROM THE BOTTLE, WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT FROM MY MOUTH-“

“THAT’S THE SAME THING!!!”

“JEEZ I’M FINE WITHOUT DRINKING, BOTH OF YOU QUIT FIGHTING! I HAVE SOMEWHERE TO BE LATER ANYWAY” you scolded them for being so disruptive and LOUD.

minji hums in frustration crossing her arms. beomgyu on the other hand brings his legs to his chest, back aligning the wall. burying his face in his palms.

jiu brings a palm to her forehead sighing heavily while souha just laughs. rubbing - now both - minji and jiu’s shoulders

“man, i have feeling we should all hang out more” yeol jin chuckles

an hour or so after some board games, a tense piano contest between your two bands' respective pianist, and yeoljin telling stories about himself while a few of the girls dozed off on your shoulder.

your mom rings your phone saying she’ll be there in 5 minutes to pick you up. surprised since she rarely ever picks you up or drops off, of course you say you’ll be ready soon since she doesn’t wanna waste time. excusing yourself grabbing your bag from behind the speaks and your guitar. bidding everyone goodbye hoping to do something similar again since everyone seemed to have fun.

later in the car an old song that your mom has played way too many times for you to hate is playing and your jamming along to the radio. she turns down the volume a bit to rile backyour attention.

“so y/n?”

“yes mom?”

“i’m having a small get together with a few friends from my old neighborhood. later” she says glancing over to you

“the one you were talking about on the phone this morning?” you asked looking out the window

“oh so you heard?"

“well your laugh is hard to ignore, and you were using your phone voice”

“hush you” she says in a irritated tone

you giggle “so? what about it?”

“they want to meet the girl who looks like a boy in my facebook photos” she grins excitedly

you roll your eyes “uh, do i have choice?” you raise an eyebrow

“well no, since their shop is right over there” she states pointing with her index finger to the small corner shops, and what seems to be a music shop, ahead with a park and playground by it.

as she parked the car, you look down to unbuckle your seatbelt, leavcng you to notive that you're still dressed in your school uniform

“um, i’m still in my uniform, did you bring extra clothes?" you panic

“that’s fine, i heard her son also goes to your school. so it’ll be easier for him to recognize you” she says unbuckling her seat belt

“and i hear that hes very handsome y/n” she teases with a tone, poking your cheek

“yeah, yeah” you swat her finger away

stepping out of the car. you follow your mom to the picnic area. several heads turning your direction as you make your way down to the picnic tents

“YEONG! IS THAT YOU AND Y/N I SEE?!” a woman about the same age as your mom excitedly makes her way down to the both of you open arms.

“AHHH IT’S BEEN SO LONG, HOW’VE YOU’VE BEEN?” your mom runs ahead to her into a tight hug.

“GOOD! AND THAT MUST BE PRETTY Y/N” the lady lets go of your mom and runs up to you for a hug, almost suffocating you in the process. but you politely rub her back.

“the one and only!” your mom laughs as she watches the lady engulf you in a close hug

“i should hope so, im her only daughter” you tease smiling at your mom’s friend

“im assuming your both hungry? especially you y/n, you just came from school! come, come” she says pulling you and your mom along back to the picnic area where you see most people sitting in foldable chairs or the picnic table chatting about.

as your mom’s friend led you along the way to the food and drinks area, a couple of screams come running forward as your mom and other ladies run into a group hug jumping around in none sensical chatter.

your mom’s friend points in the direction of the food lined up on the table, guiding you along to grab some for yourself

“don’t mind them, they haven’t seen each other since your mom left for japan a years ago. but it’s so good to see you y/nie. you’re as pretty as you are in photographs!” thanking her, you watch her as she grabs a can of sprite and plate + utensils.

“just call me auntie min” you nod while she smiles from the back of the tables.

“my sons are sick of me telling them all about you two you know! you look exactly like your mom!” she says

“i hear they’re both as good looking as their mom!” your mom says making her way down to the both of you.

“pssh- well of course!” she rolls her eyes handing you and your mom a plate and drinks “hes very sweet and handsome my youngest! he goes to the same high school as you y/n” she says wrapping an arm around your mom

“come over to our home whenever yo'd like! ill make sure when he gets here, he’ll introduce himself”

“oh okay, sure” you nod shyly

a bit later after a few snacks and drinks, you excuse yourself as you were curious to see what that music shop had. auntie sue mentioned it was her music shop and gave you permission to grab one anything you’d like as a gift.

the moment you stepped in, you were awestruck by just how much instruments and dvds were lined up on the walls. the posters of the beatles to acdc or the smell of new equipment. your eyes landed on a very pretty guitar strap with red bow in the middle. very on brand of you if you ask any of the girls. every time you turned your eyes you found something even more incredible than the last.

“lee y/n..? is that you?”

wait is that-

you quickly turn to find the familiar voice, there to find a surprised beomgyu stopped at the door.

“…hey” you said. head turned towards him wide eyed, still have yet to face him.

“what are you doing here?” he said approaching you.

“my mom is reuniting with a high school friend, she asked me to tag along with her because she wanted to introduce me to her” you said watching him as he made his way next to you.

you both looked at each other for a second before you turn to face the instruments.

he fidgets a bit still processing you’re there

“so uhm… did you meet your mom’s friend?” he asked not knowing what to say

“i did, she was very nice. she also wanted me to meet her sweet and handsome son who goes apparently to the same high school as me” you said in a mocking tone.

he swayed on his heel to face you.

“oh? and how is he? handsome enough? sweet as they say? charming as ever?” he exclaimed as he brushed his hair back dramatically.

you bit back a smile “well i haven’t met anyone even close to that description, i’ll let you know if i do” you spin on your heel, back facing him”

“yeah yeah” he deadpanned as he sneaks up behind you tickling the sides of your waist, causing you to shift uncomfortably to the side.

“HEY NO STOP, GO AWAY. IM TICKLISH”

you hasten towards a pile of stacked, yet to be organized, albums escaping him.

“you willingly tell me this information, and now you’re expecting me to not do anything about it?” a playful grin growing on his face as he started inching towards you.

“hey! i thought you said you were sweet or somethi-“

you were saying until you unsuspectingly trip on a guitar, falling onto a pile of music books. the side of your wrist hits the guitar’s spine.

“Y/N!” he shouted out to you as he wasn’t able to reach out in time.

you tried to shift out the uncomfortable position not realizing there were other things your foot would hit. that was the case anyway, until another large pile of books landed on your shin.

“oh no the guitar!”— you hissed in pain, shifting as you felt the sharp tension run across your wrist “h-how is it?” worried as you tried to sit up, but failed stumbling back onto the pile of books after putting a bit of pressure on your wrist.

“the guitar is what you’re worried about right now?, not your nasty fall?” “shouldn’t i?!, it’s being sold!” you yelled, concern showering your facial features

“all i’m worried about is you” he said as tried to help but you flinch back.

“oh shoot, sorry” he apologized.

“can i have your permission y/n? i just want to help you up”

you look up to him, you knew you couldn’t have predicted what he was gonna do that. you still felt bad though.

“yeah, go ahead” he smiles softly as he pulls you up by your waist helping you sit. holding your wrist avoiding anymore pressure from being applied.

“thanks” as you look down not used to being touched.

“no problem, but you should really get some ice for that” he says as he gets up about to grab a first aid kit.

“beomgyu wait!” you look up to him, grabbing by his wrist to prevent him fron leaving. only for you to retrieve it as the sharp pain came back.

he goes back to you surprised “shoot, y/n! sorry sorry! i didn’t know. i’m sorry, what is it?” he asked kneeling down beside you.

“i’m fine beomgyu, really” as you look down to your wrist to find a red bruise on it.

your expression changed to a weary one as your eyes widen only realizing now how bad it looks. you panic

“oh nononono”

you quickly look up to face beomgyu with determined eyes and a serious expression.

“slap my wrist”

you say intently, catching him by surprise.

“what?! no! are you crazy?” taken aback as he did not expect that from you.

“come on please! maybe you can like knock it back to normal so i can play for the competition!”

you sigh out desperately, eyes wandering everywhere on the ground.

“this can’t be happening, everyone has been working and thinking about this for the past few weeks. i can’t ruin that for them, this opportunity. this is so selfish of me” you say as tears welled up in your eyes. shaking as you rub your arm.

beomgyu wants to reach out his hand to you, attempt to make you feel better, but he worries it would make you uncomfortable.

“sorry, ah geez i’m being the worst right now aren’t i?” he chuckles scratching his head.

you look up to him with a worried expression, he was the complete opposite of worst you say in your head.

why was he apologizing, he had no reason to. it’s not like he tripped you. until you saw the guilty expression on his face. you then lie your head on his arm, it was his turn to flinch as he was surprised by your unexpected movement.

honestly this was unlike you but you felt a sort of comfort from him you guess, and it was okay. right now, you thought that it was important to reassure him and for him to not misunderstand you.

he then shifts a bit more leaning to the side a bit so you can lie down on his shoulder more comfortably.

for a silent while, you quietly let tears fall from your eyes as the guilt overwhelms you not knowing what to do by what was currently on your plate.

“you’re allowed to take it easy y/n, not everything is your fault you know?” he says looking down to you in his soft voice.

you sniffle, silent for a moment longer.

“i probably am, but i can’t bring myself not to” you say still sounding nasal. he waits to see if you were gonna say anything else, before he wraps his arm around yours, caressing your shoulder.

“take a break here then with me then, just for a little while.” he says calmly as he looks over to first aid kit in the corner.

“but we do need ice before that bruise gets anymore serious, it’ll only hurt more. trust me” he helps you up hand in hand, guiding you to the back of the shop where a medium-sized couch was.

he helps you lie your legs down across the cushions as he goes to grab the first aid kit and water bottles.

“are we allowed to be here?” you asked a bit cautious

“don’t worry, my family owns this shop” he yells from the corner

“your mom is auntie min?” wide eyed moving your head forward

he laughs “well i thought we established that earlier but yeah” he says while running a cloth in cold water. he grabs a stool, reel it to sit in beside you while you’re sitting up across the small couch.

“hey um-“ he timidly gestures “can i?” pointing to your very red arm.

you stood there hesitant for a moment. clenching your hand, you switch between him and your leg unsure. but you settle for simply nodding at him.

he gently applies a cold ice pack making you wince back a bit in pain “sorry i know, it’s cold. it’ll feel better after a bit though” the usual sparkle in his eyes drop, he looks focused. rather serious

“no don’t apologize you’re doing this, you don’t even have to in the first place” you murmur. leaving him to breathe out and relax a bit.

after a few more seconds, he lets go seeing that the ice is steady, resting on your arm. he hands you a water bottle and ask “you’re from japan right?

“yeah, but im not entirely japanese, my mom is korean. my dad is—“

he looks up at you when you’ve suddenly gone quiet. studying your expression, he realize it has gone blank. your lips starting to quiver and your hand is back in a fist. hes quick to react putting an hand on your shoulder.

“h-hey hey, what’s wrong?”

you’re quick to think that now isn’t exactly the best place to break down in tears. especially with someone you’ve only recently befriended, how do people go along with this? knowing the right words, the right feelings to convey.

you felt stupid

why would you bring that him in the first place, were you not thinking? its your fault. and now look what you’ve done to yourself.

you just stayed silent, you didn’t wanna look at him you as felt ashamed in a way. you felt like a sort of monster, a despicable being. you couldn’t stand it.

“you know you’re pretty different than what my mom told me” he suddenly perked up

“wh-“

“i pictured the daughter of my moms friend who happened to moving here when i first heard of you” he said in a low tone

“i was expecting just to meet her and have a new acquaintance, if she was willing to anyway. my mom described her as a bit timid and quiet

but all i’ve ever seen from you is your abilities to fight off that specific quietness. the quiet that suffocates people til it’s the only thing they breathe. and that’s daunting isn’t it?

but i just think someone like that, wouldn’t come in the form of you. that song, your voice. oh! your dance…”

“you saw that?!” you paled

“well… yeah, but i thought it was cute” he said pulling on the collar of his shirt. he closed his eyes biting back a laugh. showing a smile with the side of cat whiskers.

he really was just beautiful, wasn’t he?

but the life to his features wasn’t their great proportions. it was the life he put in them, his life. it glowed like how good dreams would

it felt different. it definitely was different. to you anyway. feeling flushed you breathed back a lump. but he never left your sight of vision, you couldn’t miss something.

“i guess… you’re somewhat sweet” you mumbled back

he turned his head to you as yours turned away, “if i have to admit it” shifting your eyes everywhere but in his direction

he gawks a bit confused, but a moment passes he chuckles, relieved that you appeared to have finally seemed to have let him in a bit more. he leans back a bit

“i'm glad”

A/N. idk about this episod,, also ik that beomgyus' mom isn't named min nor is it confirmed, but I put that just for the sake of the plot hehe <3

[guiltswept]

MY  MIND  IS  A  SAFE  AND  IF  I  KEEP  IT  IN  WE  ALL  GET  RICH  /  MY  BODY  IS  AN  ORPHANAGE  WE  TAKE  EVERYONE  IN  /  DOING  LINES  OF  DUST  AND  SWEAT  OFF  LAST  NIGHT'S  STAGE  /  JUST  TO  FEEL  LIKE  YOU  —  MEET  GABRIEL  LEONE.

...content warnings for... non - familial terminal illness, divorce, mentions of death, drugs, depression, wound infection, delusions, and drugs again.

profile.

full name — gabriel franklin leone.

nickname(s) — gabe. gift of gab. annoying little shit. whore ( said affectionately ).

place of birth — newark, new jersey.

date of birth & age — october 31st, 1996. twenty7.

gender / pronouns — nonbinary, they/he ( subject to change at will ).

sexuality — queer ( preference in the masculine ).

occupation — musician; guitarist in any band that'll allow them. bartender at the labyrinth. tattoo apprentice at skinfinity tattoos.

astrology — scorpio sun, cancer moon, aries rising.

residence — a small apartment in cardinal hill; discounted due to the previous tenant's unexpected demise. all brick walls and a huge, arching window. a bitch to find curtains for. comfortably cramped.

interests — the little skrrtch skrrtch feeling whenever a new tattoo is imminent. sweet coffee. vegan food and new recipes. secondhand leather. bleaching their hair; sick designs painted with dye. music, the louder the better; punk, nu metal, rock, any emo variation. steel - toed boots. lung - restricting laughter. messy make outs. house parties, even now. hardcore shows. shitty beer; slamming the can against their forehead. producing. the environment, sustainability. keeping their friends close. never spending a night alone. horror films, halloween ( obviously ). dungeons and dragons.

aversions — cleaning, it disrupts the creative process; one must live in squander. animal cruelty, but also PETA. standing still. thinking too much about anything. their anxieties. unintentionally ruining their ( or others' ) friendships. not being able to tattoo. improper piercing aftercare. vapes ( is forever a cigarettes guy ). bad acid trips. not remembering the previous night. being haunted in an un - sexy way. their step - brother. facing reality; their delusions not being humored. serious conversations. geese.

quirks — a serial nail biter and lip muncher; tries to over - balm in compensation. tattoos over their old tattoos when they're bored of them. a new piercing every week; offers stick and pokes at parties or in the bathrooms of clubs. talks too loud in too quiet of spaces. gets separation anxiety if away from their friends for too long. is extremely clingy. treasures every vinyl in their collection. still uses a walkman; makes cassettes for their friends and lovers alike.

most played — you've seen the butcher by deftones.

notable features — hair consistently buzzed short and bleached; an array of patterns that change every week. tired eyes deep - set into a muted purple.

general disposition — a shaken bottle of coke ready to shatter glass; all fizz until he lays flat. unsteady, but excited.

character study — chris miles ( skins ) & finn ( adventure time ).

background.

grows up in the jersey suburbs with their mom and dad for the first seven years of his life. his mother sonia’s an art student-turned-struggling artist who splits her time between nj and nyc for whichever side gig she can pick up, and his father’s an old punk turned chef with a severe vendetta against bobby flay.

when money’s tight and there’s no sitter to turn to during the summer, gabe accompanies their parents into the city. occasionally the stars align and sonia picks up a waitressing shift at the restaurant his father works at, allowing gabe to sit in a tucked away booth and scribble away. sometimes his dad’s old friends stop by the diner, letting gabe color inside the lines of their tattoos as his mom finishes up for the day.

TERMINAL ILLNESS; when gabe’s seven, sonia gets a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work with an illustrator she’s long admired and once mentored under; he’s terminal, losing control of his hands, and needs someone to finish what he no longer can. the pay isn’t the most lucrative, but the experience alone is enough for sonia to accept the offer. the only catch being that they have to relocate to blue harbor, illinois, where her old mentor resides.

around the same time, gabe’s dad gets promoted at the restaurant he’s been cooking at - he’s got it in good with the owners, could very well own the business himself if he keeps up the way he has. he loves his job, loves the restaurant and the bustle of the city. he wants to move them up to nyc.

DIVORCE; gabe doesn’t really understand why it happens, he’s seven and doesn’t really know where illinois is - they already take the train between new jersey and new york, why couldn’t they take the train from new york to illinois? if their parents love each other, why do they have to go separate ways? no amount of explaining could make gabe understand; and next thing he knows, his mom’s driving with him to blue harbor.

it’s tough settling in at first; gabe misses their dad and the city, and his dad’s cooking, and taking the train every other weekend between the two states - and his dad’s cooking, again. but it’s not all so bad; even though they reside in blue harbor - they’re close enough to a new city to explore, nostalgic even in a place of new. and he’s not completely alone; their dad’s old walkman left in their possession and the promise of visiting whenever he can.

days turn into years, and gabe’s older now, a teenager; he still visits the city every summer and crashes on his dad’s couch when he’s not out exploring the city or making out with a random boy from the hardcore show they’ve just attended.

MINOR DEATH MENTION; sonia remarries, eventually - and it’s like, good. it’s really good. they met during one of sonia’s local art exhibitions, her career finally taking off after her mentor’s passing. his name’s bill, or greg - maybe craig. he makes sonia laugh like gabe’s dad did, and has a son around gabe’s age. it’s good. life is good for them.

DRUG MENTION; it’s difficult for gabe to adjust to the marriage, and the addition of a step-brother. he’s not used to family being anything other than sonia, or his dad. his friends are like a family to them, but that’s different. it just feels different. their step-brother doesn’t play dnd, or care for marching band in the way that gabe oddly does - doesn’t listen to hardcore, or appreciate horror movies. fuck, he doesn’t even smoke weed. not even a little.

gabe’s not home as often - they’re off doing better things, like smoking in someone else’s basement and trying hard to start a band that never really takes off. they do free piercings at parties in cramped bathrooms; it’s how they’ve gotten several of their own. stick and pokes on someone’s grandfather’s old leather couch, drinking shitty beer from the only gas station that doesn’t check ids just outside of town.

they don’t mean to distance themselves from their family - it just sort of happens. the only child complex; the inability to share, and minor feelings of incompetency whenever his step-brother gets praised for his ever-growing list of achievements, while gabe’s stuck with the same routine of try hard, fail, mope, then pick themself up again just to do it all over again.

eventually they graduate high school (barely but surely) and enroll in the community college - most of their friends head off to better colleges in better states for better opportunities while gabe stays in the same place. they could go back to the city - but it’s expensive, and well - fuck - gabe doesn’t know. it’s hard to go anywhere once you feel stuck.

DEPRESSION, DEATH MENTION; they start taking anti-depressants sometime after dropping out of college, unsure of what they want to actually do with their life. gabe hits a couple low-points, but eventually takes up a job as a piercer at a tattoo shop the next town over and gets an apartment for dangerously cheap in cardinal hill after the previous tenant passed unexpectedly in the home.

INFECTION, VAGUE NSFW; gabe tells this one customer like a thousand times the proper aftercare for a fresh piercing, especially one done in a particularly...sensitive area - not to go swimming, wash with a saline solution, etc. etc. does the douchebag listen? no. has the audacity to go to a lake party - swim in the fucking water - then comes back saying that gabe’s fucked up the piercing, that it’s all infected - that he’ll sue. gabe knows damn well they didn’t fuck up the piercing - but it’s their word against his, and eventually gabe’s forced to quit as a piercer just to appease the guy.

present day and gabe’s currently a bartender at the labyrinth - just managed to get an apprenticeship at skinfinity after following the artists around the shop like a lost puppy - sad eyes and all. now if only they’ll let him tattoo on people. they’ve always liked drawing - the talent not quite as natural to gabe as it is to their mom, but years of practicing american traditional instead of writing chemistry notes has finally paid off.

facts & temperaments.

currently residing in the cheapest apartment they could get in cardinal hill. it's not, like, great - but they have at least one giant window and all brick walls, and that's enough for them.

too friendly for their own good. isn't automatically trustful but also isn't distrustful. it's easy to get on their good side, because despite all their anxiety - they're pretty laidback otherwise.

is in their head. a lot. insecure but keeps a mostly confident demeanor. tends to laugh it off a lot but they care a lot about what others think about them. at least if it's someone they care about.

clingy so clingy. loves their friends to death and is probably a little in love with them too. doesn't do well when there's miscommunication, because they'll probably assume the worst. but the worst is always, oh they don't like me anymore and they think i'm ugly and my dick's a flop and - and not like, oh they're betraying me in some way.

DRUGS / DELUSIONS; partier. loves loud music, loves crowds. loves feeling alive. prone to acid trips. last year they had a particularly bad trip and they still believe they're actually just a ghost and their body's buried somewhere. has gotten a little more impulsive because of it.

5'6" and every inch of their skin minus their face (mostly) is covered in tattoos. can't help it. has gotten re-tattooed over older tattoos because they grew tired of them. has a knuckles tattoo that just says KNUC KLES. it's actually their favorite sonic character.

was a band kid in high school. and a dnd nerd. is still a dnd nerd. and a comic book nerd. and a horror movie nerd. is like if a loser was also a whore (affectionately; loves to love, loves affection, and loves sharing a bed with two or more bodies at any given time).

still plays guitar, sometimes does their own vocal tracks but it's mostly distorted or altered in some way. is stuck in the 2000s emo scene perpetually, but also the punk scene. and the nu metal scene? there's variety.

has a lip ring. and a nose ring. and an eyebrow ring. lots of rings.

nude figure model for the local colleges' art programs because they would never say no to some extra money, and also because they love their body.

vegan n loud n proud about it. big on sustainability and animal rights.

[dankusner]

Sexual adventure 

Like the Netherlands, prostitution is legal in Curaçao. 

Near the airport is an adult resort called Campo Alegre (Happy Camp), a jaw-droppingly enormous brothel. 

Because of the shape and color of the logo, locals discretely refer to the camp as "The Green Leaf.” 

The $6 admission fee (they don't check identification) is so worth the adventure. 

The sprawling open-air property was originally an army encampment. 

And it has recently undergone considerable refurbishment: There's a sleek high-speed Internet cafe, a gift shop, a clothing boutique (that sells Falcon's Mike Branson dildos), a massage parlor, an S/M dungeon, a business center, a lounge bar and even a water fountain.

Campo Alegre is like a small town — with boulevards that guests can stroll through as they pass by the tiny 1940s cabins where the prostitutes live. 

Except for a couple of restricted trips per week, the women are not permitted to leave, less they start independently cutting their own deals. 

The employees keep in shape at the gym. 

And after a sweaty workout, guests can watch them rinse off through the glass-walled shower stall. Upon a recent visit, I was told that I had just missed the annual "community day" — where locals are invited to inspect Happy Camp and see how well maintained it is. 

Apparently, parents are encouraged to bring the kids. 

Corporate sponsorship is big at Campo Allegre. 

Huge neon-lit beer signs arch across the boulevards. But my Dallas civic pride burst with joy when I stumbled across gigantic meticulously tiled Coca-Cola logo. 

In case y'all didn’t know, the first batch of Coke ever bottled came from Deep Ellum in 1902. 

As I looked at the cabin directly in front of the Coke logo, an enormous dildo proudly stood inside the windowsill.

The vibe at Campo Allegre is strictly hetero. 

However, during the Wednesday night strip shows, the johns apparently get a little frisky and the men are known to cruise each other — however, the down-low scene there appears way too dangerous for a tourist to dare attempt.

Original Site of the Coca-Cola Bottling Company of Dallas

One of the first companies in the nation granted franchise rights for the distribution of Coca-Cola in bottles, the Coca-Cola Bottling Company of Dallas produced the city's first bottle of Coca-Cola on this site on June 10, 1902.

J.T. Lupton of Chattanooga, Tennessee, was the principal owner, with an initial investment of $5,000.

Three employees handled the entire operation. They were: R.D. Twinam, company manager; Mr. Dixon, the bookkeeper; and Fred Welsh, who operated the bottling machine.

The employees sold 37 cases on the first day of production and delivered them in a one-horse wagon.

In the bottling process, glass Coca-Cola bottles were filled by using a hand-operated, foot-powered machine that held two bottles, one beneath the syrup and the other under the filling head for the carbonated water, where the bottles also were capped.

Bottles were reused and had to be hand-washed by putting cleaning fluid and steel pellets, similar to gunshot, into the bottles and shaking them vigorously.

By 1905, sales of Coca-Cola had increased such that the company moved the bottling plant to 1800 Wood Street.

From its small beginnings here in Deep Ellum, the Coca-Cola Bottling Company of Dallas, later renamed the Coca-Cola Bottling Company of North Texas, grew to more than 2,600 employees in 19 locations by its centennial in Dallas in 2002. (2002) 

The Universal Drink

How Coca-Cola came to rule the world. In the fizzy world of carbonated beverages, today marked a notable anniversary.

On May 8, 1886, a pharmacist in Georgia named John Pemberton sold the first glass of Coca-Cola, inaugurating what is arguably the most successful product in history.

According to the beverage maker, Pemberton sold nine servings per day during the soft drink’s first year; by the time The New Yorker’s E. J. Kahn wrote about it, in 1959, that number had soared to forty thousand servings every minute.

European royalty drank it; so had Hitler.

The Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie imported special deliveries on his imperial plane—or he did, that is, until a bottling plant opened in Addis Ababa.

Despite the company’s astonishing rise, the quintessentially American creation was not without detractors.

Critics across the political spectrum derided Coke’s sweeping expansion, identifying “a new type of imperialism” in the form of “Coca-Colonialism.”

The Second World War had played a major role in the company’s global spread, but the Cold War was proving a serious obstacle.

(Although the Iron Curtain had a few cracks: Soviet-bloc athletes guzzled more Coke than anyone else at the 1956 Olympics, in Australia.)

At the end of the article, Kahn jokes that Coca-Cola might prove the key to global peace—a prophecy that didn’t come to pass, unfortunately, but one that did anticipate the company’s iconic “I’d Like to Buy the World a Coke” ad campaign, which launched a little more than a decade later.

[apexart-journal]

Sonia Paulino Love Outbound to Montevideo, Day 23

Everyone is suddenly wearing long sleeves and sweatshirts. The weather is pleasant and it's still Carnival Weekend so the city is calm. This made for a really nice day of museums and walk-abouts starting at Ciudad Vieja for Museo El Juguetero, or the Toymaker Museum. 

Well-lit display cases of different categories of toys dating as far back as the late 19th century lined the walls of what was once one of Montevideo's first clothing factories. I especially enjoyed a display of the small metal banks you would get when you opened an account at a bank in Uruguay, the toy sewing machines with examples from 1900s - 1980s, small robots from 1950s-1970s, the cheap plastic halloween masks like my siblings and I wore in the 1970s-80s, and those tiny glass Coke and 7Up bottles that adults collected but were not for playing with.

The Museo Histórico Cabildo, also in Ciudad Vieja, houses Montevideo's historical archives in what was the governor's house in early 19th-century. I was charmed by the building's intricately designed wrought iron entry doors, covered exterior walkways, and many arches. I was treated to historical illustrations of mate-carrying citizenry and arial views of the city, an exhibit of 1880-1920s ladies' fashions, Uruguayan contemporary art, and even a taxidermal anteater.  

Later, I took a local bus to the eastern edge of town and transferred to a different line through Ciudad de la Costa to a neighborhood called Shangrila for a tour of the Centro Cultural Shangrila. It wasn't actually in operation for the holiday, but the playgrounds and garden are open and available for the community 24hrs, suffering very little vandalism. But for the janitorial staff, the facilities, which includes a robust library and a theatre production/screening room, are completely volunteer-run. All are maintained by the neighborhood's pride of ownership. Most of the funding is secured by voluntary $5 monthly donations. My guide, Renzo, is a coordinator at the Centro and a colleague of Valentina's. He was kind enough to offer me a ride and dropped me off at la rambla near home. 

I sat and looked at the ocean for a while before leisurely making my way, stopping in at an art-house cinema/garden cafe/bookstore for a browse.

[szasfuckingwife]

Druggie

Sanzu Haruchiyo x Reader

“You don’t get to call me that.”

If he allowed people to see how vulnerable he is, he’d be crying in front of you.

“That’s what you are, Sanzu, a druggie. And I’m sick of it.” You say as you grab all the pills and the bags of coke. He stands at the side of the room watching your every move, he knows he shouldn’t fight this.

It needs to be done.

“I’m doing this for your own good.” You wipe a tear as you flush everything down the toilet.

It’s like something in him clicks as he rushes to the bathroom, trying to save the last of the pills. He grabs your wrist, prying you off the pill bottle.

“Sanzu, get off.”

“No.”

“Sanzu-"

“NO!” He yells. Accidentally, he pushes you back. You collide against the wall, your head ringing as the pain increased.

But you didn’t know what hurt more, the fact that he pushed you, or the fact that he didn’t want to give up his drugs.

Looking you right in the eye, he shoved sone pills in his mouth. He emptied the bag of cocaine on the bathroom counter.

“Don’t fucking do it, Sanzu, I swear.” You’re scared of how raspy and shaky your voice is.

He scoffs and lowers his head, snorting whatever piece of cocaine he could.

That was it. You stormed out of the bathroom grabbing your keys and your jacket. He followed you for whatever reason, the white powder evident on his face. As much as he loved drugs, he loved you too.

“Don’t touch me.” You speak through gritted teeth.

“You’re not leaving me. B-babe, I was fine before. Whenever I was popping pills, nothing bad happened why is it different now.”

“Because I’m not gonna sit around and watch you kill yourself. I won’t.” And with tears in your eyes, you open the door and leave.

You sit in your car, not knowing where to go. Where did it go so wrong, you thought. Sanzu was the sweetest teenager when you first met. Introverted but loving. But as the power and money went up, the Sanzu you knew had gone astray.

With a sigh, you check your phone.

Mikey- 21 Unread Messages

Your brow arched and then, your phone lit up with Mikey’s name as he called you.

You answered. “Hello, Manjiro, I’m quite busy so-"

“It’s Sanzu, [Y/N].”

No.

No No No No NO. This couldn’t be happening. You realised that you left him in that apartment with probably enough drugs to put him in his death bed.

Tears swell up your eyes.

“He’s overdosed, he needs you. You need to come to the hospital right now.” Mikey said.

Any plans of leaving him disappeared from your mind as you needed to be there with him.

“Sanzu Haruchiyo? I’m his girlfriend.” You plead to the receptionist.

“Married?”

“I just fucking told you, I’m his girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry, Family only. We need to see proper confirmation that you are indeed Mr Haruchiyo’s wife.” The receptionist said.

Fuck off, you thought.

“No, it’s okay, this is Sanzu’s girlfriend but trust me he treats her like she’s the queen.” Ran walked up to you. “Come, [Y/N].”

You followed Ran with a beating heart. You were scared and anxious.

“I’m gonna be honest, [Y/N], Sanzu isn’t an amazing guy. But you should see the way his eyes light up when he talks about you. If there’s anyone he needs right now, its you.”

By God’s grace, Sanzu was alive. Even though some poor bastards around the city wished and prayed he hadn’t lived, the pink haired motherfucker just keeps coming back.

You didn’t know why, but you felt nervous. The last thing that happened between you two was the argument. And now you have to see him like this.

“Hey..” He croaked as you walked in.

“Hi…” You sat on the seat beside his bed. You saw a ‘Get well soon’ card from Takeomi. Your heart warmed to that.

“The loyal mad dog overdoses. I can hear everyone talking already.” He smiles.

He looks so tired it breaks you.

“How do you feel?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Like shit.”

A small chuckle escapes from your lips. “Thats what I like to see.” Sanzu looked at your eyes. “My pretty girl smiling.”

“Haru, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you knowing that you need me-"

“No, I’m sorry that you feel like you have to stay ‘cause of me. [Y/N], you’re perfect. You could get anyone you want. You’re too good for me.”

You shake your head. “No. You’re good for me. And this addiction? We can work through it. We always work through everything because we’re a team, yeah?”

He smiles at you with small tears.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

His lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. This is love. The arguing, the smiles, the crying. This is it.

“I’m gonna get better. You can burn all the drugs or flush them, I don’t care. I’m gonna fix myself.”

You smile against his lips. “And that’s a promise?”

“Of course.” He pulls you back in for a kiss.

“Ewwww, get a room, Haruchiyo.” Ran walks in. Behind him, a few of Bontens men consisting of, Rindou, Kakucho and Kokonoi.

“Fuck off.” Sanzu laughs.

His stupidly cute scars curl up into a smile as he stares at everyone in the room. Then at you.

His eyes are basically saying that He loves you. Your eyes flutter back the same response.

[luvcvlts]

paloma's brows stayed raised near her hairline at this point, mouth open in surprise and cheeks flushing by the moment. "this...this would be quite a prank, arch." she let out a shocked laugh, letting him toss the lid back on the box and do what he wished with it. she had already seen it all. down to the polaroids that he had taken of them on their group trip to the lake earlier that summer. swallowing, she leaned back on her knees, grabbing the bottle of coke that had fallen over and caused her to be down there in the first place. "I'm...gonna grab a towel. to clean this up." she murmured, pushing herself up to her feet and avoiding his eyes as she hurried out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom. her heart raced at the thought of what he had been doing to the thought of her. she always knew that he felt some kind of way for her, it wasn't hard to tell, but she hadn't realized it had gotten to this point. pulling open the linen cupboard, she searched for a rag, blowing out a breath as she tried to collect herself.

open to: anyone.

featuring: archie galavan, twenty-six, bisexual, cinema attendant.

plot: your muse and archie are hanging out in his room, getting ready to watch a movie when they stumble upon his secret collection, tucked away in a box under his bed. a bottle of lube, a couple toys, and various photos of your muse.

"that is- i swear it's not what it looks like. seriously that's- i'm not like that." archie sat kneeling on his mattress, staring down at the now-opened shoebox pulled from the mess underneath his bed. he should've hidden it better, especially knowing that they were coming around to hang out but it'd escaped his memory, he'd been far too excited to show them his favourite film for the first time and his perverted little collection remained tucked barely beneath the bed, with easy enough access for him to be able to grab it when he was lying down and eager to get off. "i don't use that." he nodded weakly down to the f.leshlight before quickly bending down to shove the lid of the box back on. "it's a- it's a joke! spencer must have put it there, or owen, i don't know." like his roommates cared enough to try and embarrass him like that in front of his crush. no, unfortunately, his sins were all his own and his perversions couldn't be thrown around with blame.