#couldn't stand up for him knowing damn well that he was slandered

[formulawolff]

"keep 'em comin'" - m.v.

pairing: girl best friend!reader x max verstappen

word count: 2.3k

warnings: alcohol consumption, light marijuana usage, cussing, max munching on some cooter! (that will come later in the fic), enemies to friends to lovers, typical men behavior (being creepy in a bar), mentions of physical threats, kelly slander, THINGS ARE MESSY BETWEEN KELLY AND MAX (so if y'all don't like light infidelity/gray areas then don't read) yadayadayada (y'all already know the vibes)

a/n: hellllloooo! <3 this is my first time writing for max so if this isn't quite like him, i apologize in advance. this fic is based off of a request and i had to write about it since i've been feral for max (he finally took off that damned cap!) this may end up as a two or three part series. we'll see, we'll see!

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

"i see the decrepit hag decided to let you out of her clutches tonight. congratulations for being able to be out and about in public without her breathing down your neck!"

the figure standing to your left scoffs, muttering a few incoherent words under his breath. he slides into the booth, propping his chin up with a hand. the other finds the glistening glass, a bead of condensation rolling down, pooling onto the rigid table.

"about that."

"what about it?" you arch a brow, lips connecting with the rim of your own drink, "max, did something happen before you left?"

he shrugs, brows pinching together as he sips on his mixed drink, a decadent yet smooth concoction of his favorite liquors blended together, "it's nothing serious."

"max," setting your glass down, you lean forward ever so slightly, his name louder than normal over the overwhelming mixture of voices and volume, "what. happened."

"oh you know," he waves a hand, careful not to meet your piercing gaze, "she's upset that i was going out to see you. that's all."

the moment max mentioned her, you knew exactly who she was.

she was kelly piquet. max verstappen's beloved wag. the woman who scooped him up the moment that clock struck midnight on his eighteenth birthday.

the woman you loathed more than anyone in the world.

but you wouldn't tell max that.

after all, you couldn't. the pair had been dating for quite some time. and although max wouldn't say it outright, you were well aware that she was not going anywhere anytime soon.

no matter how much the two fought. no matter how much she wanted to make your relationship with max as strained as possible.

your friendship with max had a rocky start. tumultuous, even. the two of you met when you were both seventeen, as your parents were mutual friends. since max was involved in racing, and you aimed to pursue professional photography, max's father suggested that the two of you get to know one another.

of course, at that time, the last thing teenage max wanted was some nerdy girl following him around. especially when there were other teenage boys involved. cool teenage boys who enjoyed to fuck around with fast machinery.

he teased you relentlessly, tormenting you whenever he could. he ridiculed your photographic abilities, scorning the prints or slideshows you provided. often times, he stated that your pictures were, "absolute shit" and your clip compilations "were not going to get you anywhere in formula one."

of course, you matched his energy. after all, you weren't going to take anyone's shit. you knew you had to advocate for yourself. you weren't going to make it in the industry if you weren't assertive.

eventually, your snapshots landed you a job at red bull. well, max did have a part to play in that.

after a couple of years, the dutch driver apologized for the way he treated you at the time, requesting a truce. the truce would consist of you sticking around as his personal media manager.

in turn, he would promote your work to the world of formula one and assist you in your way up the ladder in any way he could. he would land your sponsorships. he would chip in some cash here and there to get you more advanced software or equipment.

the only stipulation was that you had to follow him.

everywhere and anywhere he went. every event. every interview. every grand prix.

no. matter. what.

of course, with the stakes involved, you knew it was too good of a deal to refuse. with max's rise to prominence in formula one, you knew it was now or never.

so, you accepted his offer.

oh jos verstappen, what a bastard you were.

cause now, here you were in vegas, sitting across from the man you loved. well, the man you were in love with.

hopelessly and utterly in love with.

"that isn't unusual for her," you scoff, hands reaching for your purse, "i do have something that could lighten the mood!"

"and that is?" max's gaze follows your hand, making note of the delicately wrapped joint between your fingers.

"my friend mary jane!"

"you of all people know i shouldn't be smoking," the dutch driver shakes his head, yet proceeds to scoot out of the booth anyway, "i'll still come out there with you. i won't be taking any hits though."

"yeah, yeah," you wave a hand, "that's what they all say."

as you slip out of the booth, you feel max's hand connect with your lower back, almost guiding you through the throng of locals. a few of them chirp greetings to max, others chattering, creating a buzz within the air.

well, there went any sort of anonymity.

so much for keeping a low profile for the weekend.

yet, when in vegas, that was almost impossible to maintain. especially when you were a man of max's caliber.

the two of you manage to slip out, just before fans started asking for autographs. of course, max obliged to a few, signing a cap here and an arm there.

even though it was quickly approaching december, the air was mild, dipping in the low fifties. max hovers to your right, shuddering as a breeze rolls through. you curse as it quenches your flame, motioning for max to stand closer.

"can you shield me for a moment, pretty boy?"

"pretty boy?"

from the way the words tumbled from his mouth, max seemingly was not to keen to the idea of being referred to as pretty boy. yet, he inches even closer to you, providing a barrier as the lighter comes to life, igniting your delicate pre-roll.

"what else should i call you?" shrugging, you exhale, the smoke billowing into the night, "or do you prefer world champion?"

"how much did you have to drink before i got here?" the dutch driver cocks his head, his stare almost picking you apart.

"enough," you respond, lips curling into a devious grin, "don't act like you didn't like that."

"i did," he counters, "that's the issue here."

"and why is that an issue?"

"because we used to fucking despise one another. we used to tear one another apart. and now here i am, going out for drinks with you when i shouldn't be. here i am, looking forward to your texts or your snaps when i know i should be thinking about someone else.

fuck, even when i'm with her, my mind wanders to you. we're together all of the fucking time yet i crave you. i miss you when we're apart. what are you doing to me?"

before your mind can even formulate a coherent response, an individual saunters up to the two of you, drinks in hand.

it's an older man, approximately in his early or mid fifties. he's balding, as a few of the greasy hairs were poorly combed over. he was well dressed, but poorly groomed, as there was quite the scruff plaguing his feautures.

"good evening," his words are directed towards you, yet you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes were fixated on your joint, "i was wondering if the pretty lady could exchange a hit or two for a-"

"she's not accepting shit from you," max's voice is low, the driver taking another half step toward you, almost to shield you even further.

"c'mon man," the man drawls, the words slurred, "i wasn't fucking speakin' to ya. i was talkin' to her."

"and i'm talking to you," max's jaw clenches, "get the fuck out of here."

"and you are?" the man arches a brow, "surely not her boyfriend."

"actually i am," the words are forced through gritted teeth, the driver's fists clenched to his sides, "i'm her fiancé. i suggest you leave before i-"

"got it," the man exhales, rolling his eyes, "it was worth a shot. what the fuck ever man."

as he turns to head back towards the bar, you feel fingers find yours, intertwining together. max squeezes your hand gently, "are you okay?"

"fiancé?" relief ripples as you notice his demeanor crumble, "what was that all about? were you manifesting something or-"

"come on," max tugs at your hand, "let's go to another place. get a few more drinks. keep 'em comin'. keep the alcohol flowin', you know?"

"max," clicking your tongue, you frown as your realize your joint was burnt out, "what is going on between you and kelly?"

"i don't want to talk about her right now," the driver won't even look at you, keeping his focus on the glow and ambiance of the city, "we can talk about anything else but her. please. i don't even want to think about her right now. shouldn't you be relieved? why aren't you relieved?"

"because you look stressed the fuck out!" you retort, "and it stresses me out because i love you and i can't handle seeing you all bummed about some hag who is only using you!"

max freezes, your hand flying up to your mouth. heat floods your cheeks, heart thudding against your rib-cage as you realize what just came pouring from your mouth.

"did you just tell me that you love me?"

his voice is soft. dangerously low. merely a whisper, barely audible over the bustling noise of vegas.

tears well up, shame setting your body ablaze as you nod, biting your lower lip, "y-yeah. and i know i shouldn't-"

"shut the fuck up," hands meet with your cheeks, bringing you in close, "just shut the fuck up and come here."

in that moment, max's mouth finds yours. the kiss is tender, brimmed with nothing but passion, breathing life back into your lungs. it was grounding yet exhilarating, waves of euphoria crashing over.

he pulls away, forehead brushing against yours, "why haven't i done this sooner?"

"because kelly-"

"i don't give a fuck about kelly right now."

"give a fuck about me then," you murmur against his mouth, relishing the way his hands explore, roaming along your back, trailing down to your ass, "you think we should take this somewhere more private? before someone snaps a photo of max verstappen making out with his media manager?"

"that's a good idea," he nods, "i'll arrange an uber."

although it was merely minutes in the time it took between getting into the uber and making it to your hotel room, it felt like an eternity. yet, with the way max's hand gripped your thigh the entire drive, you didn't complain. the other hand held onto yours, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles.

if only this was your everyday life.

if only things were different.

if only he fell in love with you first.

once the two of you were in the elevator, he maintained his composure, as there were other people stepping in and out. there was even a little boy, in awe that his favorite driver was staying in the same hotel as him. max was kind enough to gift him one of his beaded bracelets, a small memento from a win during the 2022 season.

if only that child knew what his favorite driver was really up to.

once that light on your keypad flashed green, his mouth was on yours, tongue gliding along your lower lip, practically begging for access. his hands were all over, tugging on your clothes, desperate to see what was underneath.

"fuck," there's a rumble in his chest as he lays on you on the bed, pinning you to the mattress.

"what?" you can't help but wriggle a little, slightly flustered by the intensity of his gaze.

"you have no idea how much i've thought about this," a dusty rose hue tinges his cheeks, "i-i almost don't know what to do now. i've thought about it so frequently that i had it down to every little detail. and now i have you here, right where i want you but i feel like i'm going to fuck this up and-"

"max," tender fingers sweep locks of hair from his forehead, "do what you feel is right."

"i just want to show you how much i love you. i need you to know how loved you are."

"i think i have an idea," the tip of your nose brushes against his, "is there anything i can do to help?"

"will you let me taste you?"

instinctively, your hips buck forward, legs spreading so that he can have access. you can feel his cock stiffen in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh, aching for some sort of relief.

"yes," you nod, "you can taste me."

"f-fuck," his jaw nearly goes slack as you guide his hand through the waistband of your panties, the pad of his index finger circling your clit, "you're this wet for me? already? my poor baby. all soaked and desperate for me."

"m-max," the way his name falls from your lips is intoxicating, "i need you."

"are you sure this is okay?" he pauses, eyes meeting with yours, "if at any moment you need me to stop, just tell me."

"you are more than okay. i promise."

fingers delicately unbutton your jeans, rolling them down your legs. in the process, you peel off your hoodie and shirt, tossing them to the floor.

just the mere sight of you half-dressed had him coming undone, his inhibitions slipping away by the second. fuck, you were so stunning. someone who deserved to be worshipped and cherished.

far more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

situating himself between your legs, max's mouth roams, placing wet kisses all over your inner thighs, hips, and abdomen. his tongue flattens against your heated core, savoring the way you squirmed under his touch.

"you need me to taste you baby?" he coos, cocking his head.

"yes," you plead, skin hot to the touch, your clit engorged, folds slick with juices.

"hmmm," he hums, hands grasping your thighs to spread you open further.

"once i get these off of you, you're all mine. and only mine. got that?"

yet, there was one thing that happened to slip max verstappen's mind that night in vegas.

well, one woman.

the woman he referred to as his girlfriend, but the woman he was not in love with.

kelly piquet.

[the-stove-is-divorced]

Here again about the ask game. Let's try 13 and 16.

Also, your opinion on Invibcible is SO true. Nolan was basically throwing Mark into the water and told him to swim or drown. Mark did the best he could with what he had. I was so obsessed with the first season I immediately read the whole comic. Currently waiting for season 2 part 2 to come out so I can watch it in one sitting.

THANK YOU! Nolan did nothing to help Mark when facing so many dangers, this kid is always on the risk of dying istg. And while I haven't read the comics, I prefer the show, I UNDERSTAND. Invincible is so good oh my goodness. I binged it in like one day when it came out I couldn't put it down. Even months ago I decided to go for a rewatch thinking I'd stop after an episode, and I was up till 3am. Cannot put that show down!!!

13. worst blorboficiation

I actually don't know. If a character's way too OCC I usually backpedal my way out fast. I usually try staying in my own little corner to save myself the sanity depletion of seeing too bad blorboifications. I see it happening with Batfam/Comic characters but comics are incredibly inconsistent if not downright malicious with characterization, so semi-understandable. Honestly, can't think of a truly worst one other than that at the moment! (。。 )ゝ

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

Oh, these are really making me think, ty! :3 I've stated before but any cut and dry fics with Bad/Terrible/Abusive Bruce Wayne. That's just lies and slander and I will not stand for it. (」＞＜)」

Otherwise, maybe it's my aroaceness at work here, but there's plenty of shipping I kinda don't get? I mean, obliviously, I can understand what people are getting that, but there's tons of shipping I've just accepted as a Thing That Happens. Characters are just dolls and people do whatever, and usually people make them kiss and fuck. Whatever. Sometimes I think it's boring. A lot of the times, actually. I try to focus on what I found most interesting, I suppose, and for me that's like angst and time travel! Eh, so a lot of shipping is the answer, haha! (。。 )ゝ

Otherwise, Zuko from Atla. He is a well written character that had his redemption one of the few well written ones in popular film/media history, yes. We all now that. Move on. But is he massively overrated to me? Incredibly.

Oh, and like self insert x insert any fandom character imaginable. I get it, I understand, sure, but the way the I will just check out a show that aired 0.07 seconds ago and there's already the "hottest" character biting a mf's thighs or something, like damn. The speed is crazy. And I've been in pretty small fandoms, so like 60-99% is smutty self/reader fics drives me crazy. ٩(ఠ益ఠ)۶

And, again, ABO. Why.

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

Alaun is busy with paperwork for the crusade, while Woljif visits the new commander, having found out something interesting.

-

The commanders tent was quiet, he had tried to be personable with the people, but with the holy light still lingering, and the queens respect clear in their minds, well they made sure not to disturb him with merriment.

He would have to walk the careful line between leader and person they were loyal to. but he could do that later, for now the quiet helped soothe his headache.

"-So you went to help Seelah before the big important assignment from the queen?"

Deep breaths. Hes testing you. "what are you saying Woljif?"

"Don't get your mail in a twist, i just think its funny" clearly, from his grin. Still, his tail was tense.

"Whats funny?" he grunted, annoyed at the ink on his fingers

"I mean no wonder your fast friends, your both paladins of the same goddess, both with some dark past your trying to atone for."

Alaun squinted at the paperwork, recruiting new soldiers after the initial forces were wiped out at the second battle required careful balancing of the finances.

"Now Woljif, i know your thinking, how did you find out about my mysterious past Ive been carefully avoiding telling anyone"

Sighing, he put the quill down, a general would need to be recruited, it would be manageable, but still a dent in the coffers

The smell of sulfur suddenly became overpowering in his nose, a clawed hand heavy on his shoulder. distantly he noted the lantern flames wavering "well i was wondering why i couldn't get the stink of rotting flesh out my nose. my, my, commander. what a delicious secret. no wonder your so kind to us failures and mistakes. like calls to like after all, as the stuffy half elf likes to say"

Shaking hands moved the inkwell to its indent. the paperwork was fiddly, no need to get it stained with ink.

"I hope you trust i am no traitor"

"Why the fancy talk. commander"

"I freed you. i trusted you that you weren't the traitor. i didn't say a word when you kept the bauble." he stared into the shifting shadows of the tend cloth, tone tense "I'm not asking for much. after all, we can all make amends cant we. forgiveness and redemption are never out of reach of you work and regret. isn't it?"

"And here i was thinking i had the upper hand." faux sorrow, still grinning. damn him

"They know. the higher ups. its not hidden"

"But it could be"

A frown

"Paperwork has been sloppy recently, with all the fires and falling outposts…" a suggestive hand motion "its so easy to lose paperwork. especially when it would result in such slanderous rumors about the commander"

That's what the feeling in his stomach was, a pit, with him standing on a tightrope. It would be so easy to fall.

"Why"

"Like calls to like. i owe you. and i don't like debts, at least not being in other peoples."

The teifling twisted round the table, hand lifting. "shake on it, commander?"

For all he dislikes the grouping of evil and demons with teiflings, he cant shake the idea hes making a deal with the devil.

He shakes, solid and firm.

As he's left to ponder, Woljif saunters out of the tent, throwing a wave over his shoulder with an "pleasure doing business with ya, commander"

[the-firebird69]

JESUS IS INFINITE ♾️‼️😭😱#shorts #yeshulovesus #popular #shortvideo #jesu...

Most of you are seeing real images and of giants it look like those of JC or his mom and dad her son looks different and his offspring look different. JC had clones and a whole bunch of them and they were seen down in Baja and this is north of Baja about 50 MI north of the tip and it looks like just a head and that is what it is and it's an electrified head of one of his clones and it's not years ago it's only probably hours ago and people have been seeing them and wondering who's been getting rid of these big giants that giant was about 150 miles and it's suspended in the air so people don't know how that's happening but the ship is holding it with some sort of big arms and electrified it a little and you can see that it's him Stallone is shocked at his reaction he said the women is probably doing it and he's sitting there with several beautiful women and he gets his idea and they're saying it might be that but they're kind of surprised at the topic and our son says she's opposing him and it's Galactica in a different suit but these ones are a certain format for a certain area and that's who it was they were fighting down there and they couldn't do anything and it was Tommy f and they're fighting over territory and killing each other and it is disgusting. Forced into some sort of relations with her and she's extremely dangerous and women are starting to see and to laugh at it and that might be Taylor Swift with a Swifty really a daughter and the other two are granddaughters and they're the one next to Taylor Swift is the bus driver and the mole is gone and she is making rude gestures but it was a shocker to salon and he's like a guy's guy and he said this woman that he's related by marriage to is deadly as hell and he says she's just trying to get ahead in life and some of them might be laughing but it is disgusting and it makes people angry and make some feel like Tommy boy no that's not what they're saying talking about something else but they're not breezing over it it is a huge topic now Chrissy is very dangerous and deadly but this is different he says this is psychologically dangerous Taylor Swift is kind of sick but she doesn't do stuff like that who sucks nasty but it's just damned annoying. And Mary her stuff is annoying and deadly and huge and small and psychologically damning and it's a menace and we had trouble with them as you can see in the movie Wonka and they're fighting other people might be slandering them or they'll slander back and really it is probably the computer of the soldier of ghwb and it's unsightly stuff but it's recent stuff and it's going on now that's not what's terrifying people it is war of the world's ships but they are somewhat terrified to see the face and if they drop the head and that's a threat they're taking stuff and it's a lady and they said what the hell do we have here and it's going on at Tommy f is getting a little nervous

Thor Freya

Yeah this is pretty nerve-wracking. You don't want any of your girlfriends and he says no that's not right in-laws around and he says well I don't think she's actually awake and you know what I mean she's got clones and monsters and this is ridiculous the poor guy is suffering it up with that damn image and it's starting to get a little gross

Tommy f

Hey this is disgusting okay we can't stand his family or friends he says they're not my friends for real but I have to kind of hang out and stuff and we sort of got something nobody is going to tolerate it it's not true but they probably might want to back off a little in the same thing they're probably going to get hit they're saying the opposite and it's stupid right now I'm working up lawsuits some people who just refuse to back off completely and look for support and group losses for it and we need business and we're going to hit the mark eventually right now Donald Trump is trying to sink and you can hear the reports he's losing ground bases they're under siege all of them and the pseudo empire is taking over the island they probably ate 30% of the original Force and 20% of the land no but they have about 65% of the land but they're going to lose it they don't have a force there and they're trying to send forces and it's not working. This example of how they treat each other is perfect they don't like each other they hate each other they're mean and they don't want to be around each other and basically it's because they're all murderers and who the hell could it's disgusting we don't want to be around them at all and we are at war with people here and it's self-defense and we're all together on it we don't want you near our son and you refuse to stay away we're going to get you

Bitol and Goddess Wife

That's one of the grossest things I've ever seen God bless him for sticking in there he's so very young his body is younger than his years I've never seen anybody that impressive in my life I have but boy that is something else child is just hanging in there it says there's a lot of movies coming up coming up in a sense of humor is great you said Wonka was a massive hit it is a piece of work and it's beautifully done and there's a whole bunch of things in it you need to know like Dave started the chocolate factory there and it's not Bavaria they say it's the UK and it is this place is kind of buried now and the unburied and the movie happens or after and that's what they say and it's about chocolate and about cocaine which can make bombs he says it's at the source but there's a reason to try and distribute chocolate people are not eating the chocolate the candy just sits there nobody has a lot of it but the max are probably making it and it's a whole thing about chocolate and if you start making your own the other truck that goes off the shelf and there's a problem that's where the heart of it is and he said that Dave was all these characters in and out and then people coming back is getting information on about the chocolate and why they're fighting it all sorts of stuff like that what's happening during the movie he was saying it I got parts of it and I thought that's amazing so this is my brother's work and he had these kids and he had tricks and he was having people swallow young what looks like kaju and cajun thinking it was them and they would rise them up and float them and everybody in the room almost threw up and there's a lot of stuff like that like this picture and people definitely are going to get sick is these people back off and you at your all in trouble and he's not really doing well it's hard life is very hard and these two next door won't give him a break and they don't they see all sorts of dumb things and won't back off but they have not seen Jason do this and they'll be horrified that machine is terrifying looking for some reason and we don't like it and people running terror anything just because you can die in just a few ways or with Dave being zapped and if you're seeing it's like a big spy thing with tentacles that can see you and that's one reason the other reason is they're carrying captive says protection and it's terrifying the prospect of defending it we can get out of here but these things are starting to be gross and his Spirit he says in advances very grossed out by this he's not afraid of his wife at all and she's not afraid of him they get along and their friends and it's different kind but these two are disgusting and they were doing it for a while before they were gone and yeah they were out 2 years they're doing it after they came back and it was horrible I've never seen so much bloodshed and stuff until now the past few years this is really gross but those two are vicious and now people see what's going on and that's disgusting and why do it I don't know she wants to be friends and oh she wants revenge he was taking her girls I've had enough I got to take a break and I see what he's saying he wants to drive around go to a movie and sit there and take a break and have dinner and people are willing to serve and people went to do the work but boy nobody gives him a break and he's going through this this is his family and he's not like that he's a child at all it is different he doesn't go around hurting people and I need a break

Jenna

Olympus

[captmickey]

Alright, time to ramble about this fic because I keep looking at it and keep going "man I just love this fic so much and the characterization and--" And honestly think that, maybe, it'll be more productive to write why I'm gushing so hard.

This is one of those few fics where I'm sitting here and eagerly kicking my feet to see what happens next. Especially from seeing it in two different perspectives? And knowing (at least from your tags) it won't be a miscommunication thing has me so on the edge of my seat to see how this is going to be resolved considering the intense damage control No1 is going to have to do and Graham not be in his head.

I love, from Graham's perspective, how he just boldly jumped to the conclusion that No1's silence is approval. Like, sure, No1 can be absolutely rolling his eyes under his helmet or even sticking his tongue out for all we know, but No1 is that type of character that can and will keep (most of) his thoughts to himself. I felt so sad for him when he couldn't sleep (hello fellow insomniac....ugh) because of his nerves like, man... I get that, I get that on an all-too personal level. And him trying to put on a mask? Buddy, no... don't do that. Someone is going to catch that mask and it's not gonna be fun.

What I adore especially so was No1's perspective (and coming from me... irony isn't missed I promise haha). I love that his silence is both a diplomatic "I'm not going to confirm nor deny your statements, Mister Mayor" and a "If I speak up now, it Will Not End Well." Of course No1 is methodical in that sense, he's not about to further damn his King... but he's also not going to sit around and listen to the slander and potential usurping. I, for one, LIVE for when No1 stands as tall as he can and gives a professional verbal beat down so this fic? -Chef Kiss- And that visual of him drinking beer... it's not one that is often seen but it's one I often welcome. Especially since he comes off to me as someone who will drink one (maybe two) drinks maximum.

Tea though? Endless.

Which, might I say? For the mayor to be like that? I want to punt him he annoys me but that is just a testament to how you wrote him: someone that clearly loves his position, thinks because of his age he knows more (which.... is not entirely wrong but his answer to Graham is having No1 dictate him is Absolutely Not It) and gets all huffy when called out. You did such an excellent job of him being obnoxious which makes Graham's feeling just chest tightening and No1's reaction so cathartic. Absolutely phenomenal job with that and balancing the two sides!

Also I cannot wait to see how No2 is going to be because based on the last thought of his, he clocked in on what's wrong and is probably already prepping the reparation between Captain and King. Someone please give No2 a medal for catching it as quickly as he did! There shall be no silly miscommunication on the Second in Command's watch!

All in all, I'm super in love with this chapter and I cannot wait to see how this matter is resolved (or beginning to) and how No1 and Graham will be.

Lovely lovely lovely fic!!

King's Quest Fic: "Residue" (Path of Kingship, Pt 3)

Previous chapters here.

Graham woke in the night with a withering thirst in his throat. His aching body begged him to lie still, but demanded water at the same time. He stumbled out of bed, feeling odd in the mayor’s scratchy nightshirt, which was perhaps three times too large for him. His foot brushed the slippers that had been left for him on the rug. No, he could tiptoe more softly barefoot. He suspected he would die on the spot if he had to face anyone before he was out of this house. He turned about vaguely in the dark. Which way was the door, again? And what time was it? He ran a hand through his hair. It was still wet from a fierce but only half successful wash. Better, but still full of paint. 

His fingers found the curly door handle, and crept into the hall.He congratulated himself on the lightness of his tread, considering the way every muscle was making itself known in the worst way. He stole down the staircase, using the same instincts he used to avoid the creaky spots in the lairs of bandits or monsters.

Surely the kitchen would be that way. It felt like ages since he’d slept in an ordinary house. Large and well-appointed as the mayor’s home was, it was no castle. 

He rounded a corner, and paused. Lamplight played under the parlour door, and hushed voices carried to his ears. Maybe it wasn’t as late as he had assumed. He drew nearer, telling himself he only intended to pass by.  The voice doing most of the talking sounded like Hector. Yammering on as usual, Graham thought dryly. 

But just as he was about to turn into the next passage, he heard the second voice more clearly, tired and nasal. “It doesn’t matter. Once the pass is open, we’ll get him straight back to the castle, and I expect the king will delay the rest of the village visits till he’s recovered from his fall.” It was Number One.

Graham did not like to think of himself as an eavesdropper. But he had always been one, and there seemed little point turning over a new leaf here and now. He did not exactly put his ear to the door, but he did put his back up against the wall, and held still. 

“Very wise,” said Hector. “Better cancel the next half a years’ worth of public appearances at least, if you ask me. Give it all a chance to blow over.” 

Number One did not respond.

The mayor coughed. “I was meaning to ask. Exactly how old is the king?”

Graham’s cheeks and ears burned. He swallowed hard.

“Twenty-one,” said Number One distractedly.

“Really?” said Hector, and Graham winced at the surprise in his tone. “Dear me. He’s altogether a bit young for twenty-one, isn’t he?”

“Hm.”

“Oh, don’t take me wrong,” Hector put in comfortably. “He’ll be all right in the long run, with a good dose of firmness. Youth, high spirits, perfectly natural. But the boy needs to be taken in hand. Immediately, I should think.”

It was Hector doing all the talking, but all Graham could imagine was Number One on the other side of the door, not even needing to speak or even nod. Agreeing loudly just by silence. 

Graham seemed to hear Hector’s words slowly somehow, as though they caught in his ears and stayed there. “You know the sort of thing I mean. Squash his pride a bit. Rein him in, knock a bit of adult sense into him. Before he does something he can’t undo. He’ll thank us all a few years down the road.”

He couldn’t stomach more. Afterward, he didn’t remember choosing to leave. Only that he climbed the stairs in even more perfect silence. That he was shaky as he turned the key in the lock of his bedroom door, burning with shame and nearly choking as though something were stuck in his throat. He sat down on the floor in the dark and smacked his forehead with both palms, over and over. If he could have torn himself in half with his bare hands, he would have.

Why was this so much worse?

How long he sat there, raging in silence, he did not know. At last exhaustion forced him back to bed. He lay on top of the covers, since the night was as hot and humid as the awful day had been. He traced circles round his eyes with his fingertips, and worked to slow his breathing. The weight of the new reality seemed to press him deeper into the mattress: as king, he wasn’t even allowed the right to his own mistakes. Always someone else would carry the consequences and have to solve it all. And they’d be within their rights to hate him for it. 

Sleep never came back for him. Calm did, eventually. He lay still until first light. Then he got up, pulled on the slippers, and faced the mirror on top of the bureau. He looked wan and tired, but he unclenched his jaw and plastered on his ordinary face. “You can’t be bitter about any of it,” he told himself sternly. “You just can’t. If you start collecting moments like last night, you won’t stop.”

He was still dreadfully thirsty.

—

“He’ll thank us all a few years down the road.”

More asleep than awake, Number One suddenly realized that the mayor was still talking to him. He tore his gaze from the popping of the foam head on his beer, and nodded at Hector. “Hm? What’s that you say?”

Hector took a long pull on his own drink, and settled back in his easy chair expansively. He smiled tipsily and wagged a smug finger. “That you’ve got to take the lad in hand at once, for all our sakes. Show him just where he stands.”

Number One stiffened. He set his beer down on the bookshelf, and fixed Hector with a level gaze.”You’re saying I should assert authority over him. Over the king of the land.”

Hector stifled a yawn and waved his hand abstractly. “I’m only saying he needs a little growing up. Nobody’s in a better position than you to make a proper man out of -”

“The Twelfth Edict of Daventry,” said Number One coolly, his stare unwavering. “The Treachery Act. In the case of usurpation of the ruler’s right of authority by action, compass, plan, or suggestion, treason is understood to -”

“Oh, bah!” Hector put aside his tankard as well. His smile stretched wider. But he tugged nervously at the cuffs of his housecoat.“Who’s talking treason?”

“You are.”

He faltered under the captain’s unrelenting gaze, casting his eyes down at the empty hearth. “As if I were talking about taking away his authority! You know I didn’t mean it in that sense.”

“No, I don’t.” Number One let the silence sit for a good long stretch, keeping his body language under control only by falling back on long years of training. When he spoke again, his voice was monotone. “And that’s the end of this conversation, I think.”

His eyes widened indignantly. “Upon my life,” he muttered. “Apparently nobody can say anything anymore.” Hector rose to his feet and took the drink in one hand and the lighted candle in the other.Number One stepped into his path, drew himself to full height, and raised his voice ever so slightly, feeling as though he would burst if he did not. 

“Stars above, man, who do you think you are? Who do you think I am?”

Hector’s tone grew more defensive. “We’re officials. And I thought we could talk, as one official to another, about the very obvious -”

“Who do you think he is?” Number One cried sharply, gesturing in the direction he knew the staircase to stand.

Hector glanced about nervously. “Shh!” he said. “The household - the king -”

“Yes. The king,” said Number One more quietly but no less severely. “That man is your king. And a fine showing you made as his official today. You drag him out here to boast about the way you’ve been wasting royal funds on that ridiculous contraption you call a tollbooth. You make him pay to cross his own border -”

“It was a demonstration! That’s what you do at a state visit!” Hector sputtered, drawing himself up too, as though he had any hope of matching Number One’s height.

“Yes, a demonstration where nothing happens and nobody gets hurt when he pays you.”

Hector had the decency to blanch a little, and opened his mouth, but Number One was hardly finished.

“You force him to go up a slick, dangerous cliff. You let him fall right over the edge. Your idiotic “security features” nearly kill him a dozen times. Your paint machine makes him look like a fool in front of the people. You trap him here with no change of clothes, no servants, and a host who likes a little treason with his nightcap. Who exactly needs reining in?”

“But you and I both know the reality - that if the king hadn’t…” Hector trailed off, then muttered sulkily, “I don’t think he’d be best pleased to hear the way you’re bullying me, Captain. You know how much he needs Mannerly Stove and the road out.”

Number One let his voice drop low. “For your sake, that had better not have been a threat. But even if it were,” he barreled on, ignoring Hector’s attempted interruption, “I can assure you that if Mannerly Stove turned against us, we could we deal with you so quickly it would shock you. But more to the point. You know our king is the dragon-blinder. He is more than capable of tearing down a mountain to give us a new way in and out. Good night, Lord Mayor.”

He swept out of the room, leaving Hector opening and shutting his wide mouth.

—

Graham stayed in his room and took all his meals there the following day. The guards left him to himself for the most part, except for Number Four, who reported regularly on the road crew’s progress. The crew worked tirelessly while the sun shone to clear a narrow stretch of road on the Daventry side, broad enough for the royal carriage. 

When nightfall arrived, Number Two knocked carefully on the king’s door.

Graham opened it slowly. “Yes?”

Number Two looked him up and down. They’d provided him with some young villager’s green linen shirt, with a black vest and simple trousers. His hair was still flecked with telltale colours, but he was smiling. A little too determinedly. He had prepared himself to speak with Graham whatever state he might be in - crushed, or haughty, or guarded. But he didn’t seem to be any of those. His face was open, his eyes frank. He smiled pleasantly when Number Two announced that the foreman had pronounced the way safe for the carriage to make the descent into the valley, and even cracked a pun or two about “rubble” and “trouble.” In fact, he seemed like his ordinary self, but almost studiedly so. As though he were testing every word and motion to see if they felt like him before he committed.

“I’m really sorry about all this,” Graham murmured, letting his gaze brush the carpet. “I was pretty stupid yesterday, and you guys had to do all the cleanup.”

“Eh, it wasn’t exactly our brightest day either,” said Number Two with a smile. But he couldn’t help adding, “You, um�� you all right?”

“Oh. Yeah!” laughed Graham hurriedly. “I mean, I’m about five hundred bruises at once, but at least we got some rain overnight, right? Temperature was way better today. No, seriously, I really dropped the ball, but I’m good. I’m good. I’m good.”

They didn’t overcrowd the carriage tonight. Numbers Four and Five were to stay in Mannerly Stove to oversee the rest of the landslide recovery. Number Three took the reins this time, while Number Two climbed in next to Graham. Finally, Number One, who had hardly spoken a word all day, took his seat across from the king. Above, Number Three called, “Walk on,” to the snutes, and gave a tap of the reigns. Off they drove into the night.

“Do you wish to go straight to the castle, sire?” asked Number One, clipped and brief.

“Unless we have somewhere else to be?” Graham said, in such an ordinary voice it wasn’t ordinary at all.

“That’s as your majesty judges.”

“Oh. Then let’s go to the castle.”

“Just so, sire.”

Silence fell.

Number Two looked back and forth between the two of them, and back again. “Oh blimey,” he sighed, facepalming.

[jojosbabe]

Ok *cracks knuckles* time for y'all to understand keicho.

Tbh i know this may sound mean to some

But honestly if you are a single child. Don't have siblings. Or are not an older sibling.

I don't really think you can capture keicho nijimuras character.

Its not that you couldn't write him. Its i dont expect these people to get it done well.

It kinda hurts me when people don't do siblings well.

But that aside. I know people have different feels. And thats ok. But the nijimuras are close to me. And i wont stand for slander on any of em.

The nijimura brothers arch hit me close. As i completely understand keicho's character. And the shit he had to go through. What its like to kinda lose that feeling of being the fun big brother to having to help take care of family. Granted mine wasn't as oof. But it still is a sombering feeling. That you grow up to damn quick.

And now you look back and ask. Where did the time go? I went through a lot of shit tbh as a kid. But my personal experiences aside. Keicho's i absolutely understood where he came from. What he smart bout it? Nah. He did deserve that ass whoppin from josuke. But he got it. And lost. But he isn't bad and he hesitated and thought about giving the bow n arrow. But his pride got in the way. And didn't know how to atone and repent. But probably he didn't have anyone approach him in that way before. He probably didn't have many friends or people to talk to. As many people cant see stands and well you get the point. Akira otoishi seemed to be friends or someone he knew. Thats why that scene seemed so weird and sudden. I wanna know more what happened before that. It sounded like they had history. So i hc they were friends and the only person that cho felt like he understood and he understood him. And he could be his happy self around other than his brother okuyasu. He didn't trust easy. Like i have a whole big story in mind.

And not to mention their father who is practically disabled. Keicho seeing him go through that. He admitted he hated seeing his father suffer. Their family suffer unnecessarily. And there isn't anything to do about it. That feeling of having to be strong for his bro during the abuse they suffered. And now having to feel helpless. Like its just awful. The amount of shit he took the brunt of for oku.

Alao people forget the cultural differences too. That doesn't help. Japanese family dynamics are different than us. Sorry people it is.

But anyways. Keicho isn't a bad guy. Just a product of hurt and dios bullshit. And his fathers mistakes.

But mr.nijimura isn't all bad either. He was desperate. He lost his wife. Lost his business. It was tough.

Like the whole thing still gets me. But many people dont wanna go deep or take it at such shallow face value. And so much slander and overshadowing keicho.

Look i looooove okuyasu with all my heart. But keicho nijimura. How they did him. It feels like a waste. And wasted potential. And how the fans sideline him. All because his lil bro is the "nice symptoms" of ptsd and all that shit they went through.

Okuyasu suffered too and hated how he felt helpless to protect his bro not just from other stand users but himself. And you guys let this fly over your heads.

Okuyasu nijimura loved his big brother and his father. Unconditional love. The good the bad and the ugly of it. We dont deserve this bean

Keicho also loved his brother. He had an overprotective complex. And if you were a big sibling you would understand that feel.

You want them to be strong and resilient to the world. Because not everyone is gonna be your friend. But at the same time. While it made him blind to the fact you can love too. And its ok to ask for help and a shoulder to lean on.

I could go on forever.

But you get the idea.

It just hurts me that that arch had the potential to be the most realest damn thing in the series.

It hit home too much. Thats why it both made me pissed when keicho nijimura was killed off. But was sad af too.

We dont really see the aftermath. And that sucks ass.

Sure yeah anime plot. But still. Oof.

I may have to write more keicho nijimura stuff because nobody can get him well enough for me. At least the complexity of it all.

Thats enough venting for now.

Im not here to jab at anyone. I just have a lot of feels and opinions about this character personally because they hit home to me personally.

I don't expect everyone to understand or agree. But i needed to say something about it.

[hughiecampbelle]

Vanish (Steve Rogers Oneshot)

Character/s: Steve

Word Count: 1,148

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writerdream22 @brithedemonspawn @lotsoffandomrecs @locke-writes @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @randomfandomimagine @amirahiddleston @diana-westmoon

A/N: 1.) I love him 2.) He looks very smexy in that gif 3.) I'm just writing for therapy I guess. It's not my best, but it's as good as its gonna get for the time being. School is killing me and idk, things have been lonely. It's frustrating and I feel stupid for both feeling all this and letting it get to me, y'know? Anyways, I quite like the storyline. I hope you like it too, and if you're feeling the same way, know that I'm always here if you wanna talk or vent or whatever you need :) Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Summary: No one understands why you did what you did except Steve

Gif Credit: @theavengers :)

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO. / PART THREE.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

The job, the life, the take with little give, it tore you apart. Limb by limb, piece by piece, until there was nothing left to hold, to stand, to be. Nothing left. The cemeteries of others left for you to hold, to keep, to care. Flowers and rocks atop headstones. Never enough. Always demanding more. The city, the world, a cat stuck in a tree. Watching others wear their uniform with pride, with the ease and awe you could only dream of. A sense of grace, a caution with their words, an effortless way of existing. Why was it so hard for you? When had the Cape become so heavy? The flashing lights so blinding? The right thing so wrong? Slandered, overlooked, dragged through the mud. Your steps too quick, too slow, your decisions that not of a real hero, your motives questioned, your intelligence questioned, your entire fucking existence questioned.

No one could ever be proud. No one could ever say a goddamn thank you.

No wonder you turned out the way you did. Your name a joke in the media, the headlines, between the ones you called family. Up and left. Disappeared. Nothing, not even a note. As if you were never there in the first place. It was better this way. You wouldn't have to drag out your apologies, burden everyone by calling them in, or telling each of them the same story over and over again. You wouldn't be questioned, or guilted, or face any anger. Sometimes it was better to go into shock. Let the adrenaline take over. Numb their wounds, their hurt, their pain. Let them think and say what they wanted, you wouldn't be around to hear it. Abandoning your duties, your teammates, the entire world. You were at your breaking point, drowning demands, in expectations you did your best to live up to. But your best wasn't good enough. It never was. Sometimes it was better to live in ignorance, in bliss. They'd get to you eventually. Word would spread. You'd be turned into a villain. There'd be interviews, and press conferences, and a global search for the one who abandoned their post.

Let them waste their time, their breath, their effort, the same way you did.

He knew. He knew before it happened. The faraway look in your glazed eyes. The hesitation. The second thought. The flinching. He didn't know what it was, though. The tone in your voice unrecognizable, your words of someone else. You hadn't just lost those pieces of yourself, they'd been crushed, absolutely destroyed. You were giving up, caving in, believing what it was everyone was saying. And then, you were gone. A ghost. Expecting to see you as he turned a corner, catching himself wanting to call your name, ask you for advice, for help, for everything. Glancing at an empty doorway, swearing you were standing there, saying something that'd surely make him laugh. Instead there was nothing. The absence of something. The regret, the grief, the frustration at himself for not putting the pieces together. You spoke without words. Always had. A language he was still learning. Complicated, and delicate, the art of saying so much in silences, in unease and avoidance. He tried, he really did.

But he couldn't stop you. And he couldn't stop them.

Civilians like vultures, tearing your image apart. Media stars slandering you because there was no one else to stand up for you. Your good name shattered, bursting at the seams. Inside, and outside. You'd expected the push back. He hadn't. The rage, the annoyance, the name calling. Rash. Impulsive. Stupid. That's when they were being nice. Horrified you'd turn your back on them, never questioning why. This wasn't the easiest way to live, to exist. He'd thought about it a lot, but what else was there for him? Who else could he be if not a super soldier? You, though, you had options, you had wants and needs outside of a catchy alias and a photo opportunity. You were young, you had your life ahead of you. It'd be a damn shame if you let it go to waste. He fought with them as best he dould, hush their disgust, the disgrace, reminding them not too long ago they turned to you, called you one of their own, saved them more times than they were allowed to forget. Bitterness and blood on his tongue, he was tired of biting it all back. Couldn't they see they were part of the problem? They were falling into the same habits that made you want to scream?

He hoped you were happier there than you were here.

And you were. You were at ease now, at peace, choosing a path for yourself instead of following one that'd been laid out. No more secrets, no more lies, no more lives in your hands. You had one life to live, you weren't going to waste it being miserable. Going where you wanted, being who you wanted, nothing to hold you back. The urge to reach out never quite dulled, not even after all these years. You missed them more and more every day that passed. A call, a text, showing up out of nowhere. With ehat, though? An explination, an apology,ban awkward hug? Maybe too much time had passed, maybe you weren't allowed to call them your family anymore. To them, you were a stranger, but you never stopped thinking about them, keeping up with all their triumphs. Across each screen there'd be another report of the man with his shield or an iron suit saving the day. There seemed to be a new member with every report. Eventually, they forgotten all about you. The media, then, you assumed, the team, your name nothing more than a reminder that even if you played the part well, it didn't mean you were a real superhero. Let them think what they want, there was no use in changing their minds.

As far as you were concerned, you were the best of the best.

Sometimes he caught you in the faces of strangers, the acts of others, the smallest of details. He still looked for you, wondering where you were, where you'd gone, who you were now. You'd look different, of course, but maybe nothing had changed after all. Maybe he'd catch you there, like he hoped he would every time, in the doorway looking in, saying something that'd make him laugh. He still expected you next to him, across from him, in his life. If there was a way to contact you, he never pushed it. Let you come back your own way, on your own time, if you decided to ay all. That wasn't his choice to make. He'd never push you the way they did. He couldn't. You'd finally done something for yourself, he'd never do anything to ruin that freedom.

[kileyrose-2003]

Tina’s Tuesday Night Mini Fic Pt. 1

Word count: Who cares? Lol

A/N: Hi lovelies! I am back!! First thing, I know. You're probably saying Kiley, wtf? It's not Tuesday. I know. Life happened. I've had a busy past few days and a final today. Anyways, this was something I did with @merci-bitch when the U.S originally went on lockdown. It was a fun way to keep me busy and get my mind off of stuff. We both decided to restart this about a week ago. So, I dedicate this to my dear friend Tina. Love you hun and hope you enjoy this! And please, if you haven't been to her blog to read any of her work, go do so. She works so hard on what she writes and is amazing.

Pt. 2 will be coming next week

To everyone waiting on fics: I'll get there. Eventually. And I'm not going into reasoning. But anyways, love you all and I hope you have a great day!

"...This is the greatest show!" You slammed your hands down on the piano keys and breathed in sharply. "God damn it, Jenny!"

"What?" You let a groan and handed her the sheet music. "Look there at that line there. Do you see that note?”

“I can see, can’t I?” Her bright green eyes lost their cool shade of arrogance when she seen how pissed you look. "Not F!” You pointed to the paper in her hand. “D! You hear that note there?" You pressed down on the key repeatedly. "D!"

"Sorry." The red head smiled at you impishly. "No, you're not. This is the fifth time we've done this and yet you still insist on doing this your own way." She sat next to you on the piano bench and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Well, I think the change makes it sound better.”

“Phineas liked it better this way,” you seethed through gritted teeth. “But what does he know of art?” You could feel your face slowing turning a distinct shade of cherry red and you bit down on your tongue.

"He must of known something with how much you tried to get in his pants," you mused to yourself.

You rolled your eyes. You loved Jenny to death but how you couldn't stand her at times. You tried and tried so desperately to get along with her and compromise when she was like this but no matter what you did, she was stubborn and so..cold at times.

Sure, Jenny was a bit of a snob but she was a genius when it came to music and you respected that. She was what inspired you to take up music in the first place.

Your childhood was far from easy. Before you even joined the circus, you were bounced all over the place. You never belonged anywhere. From the deteriorating cottage in a small, seaside village in Sweden to the cramped one bedroom apartment in London that no one would dare walk past at night. Your father was no where to be seen and your mother was an actress, always struggling to meet ends meet. She was never home, but that wasn't always a bad thing. That meant you got to explore.

That was how you got to hearJenny sing for the first time. Hiding out in the musty attic of an old Swedish theatre. Even before she hit extreme levels of fame, her voice was like a siren's call. Drawing you in further and further in. It still was in a way. She was so beautiful and even as much as she pissed you off, you loved watching her sing. Like the time at the palace. She was eye candy in that dress, the way it hugged her hips and how the bust showed the slightest bit of clevage when you looked at her at just the right angle-

"Stop it, Y/n!" You told yourself. "She's not interested in you."

Or was she? The way she looked at you when you spoke to Phineas was always with such contempt or such jealousy. You could never understand why though. It was her who tried to steal Phineas away. Not you. He was a close friend who gave you a chance when you had nothing and you never so much as even thought of eyeing him in such a manner. Phineas clearly wasn't interested in her or any other woman but his wife. He pushed her away numerous times. Jenny had no reason to be jealous of you. Yet, she was.

‘But it is of me or others though?"

One could never be sure with Jenny. Sure, there was a bit of a rivalry between the two of you when it came to music. But she was your friend. 'Very clingy for just a friend,' you noted.

'That's normal though, isn't it?'

Maybe you were just over thinking things. Besides, the relationship between the two of you seemed to be getting better lately. Ever since the scandal went public, it seemed the two of you were spending more and more time together.

You were the only one who listened to her side of the story, held her when she cried, made sure she wasn't drinking her emotions away, and tried to help her through it. Even as much as she pissed you off. You warned her in the first place not to seek out Phineas but despite the nasty arguments, the constant bickering she became your friend. Maybe even your best friend. Which you got alot of shit for.

Nobody liked Jenny and you were starting to get the feeling you weren't so popular anymore either. Everyone thought after the affair went public, the two of you would of left. Her name as well as yours, was slandered all over the paper simply because you associated with her. You had been called it all. The ring leader, the mastermind, the mistress to the two.

But neither of you resigned. Yet. Part of you wondered how long it would be until either would receive letters of negotiations to end your contract. But either way, you knew Jenny wasn't leaving without you. She promised you that.

'So maybe she does like me.'

Then that small voice came in the back of your head. 'Or maybe you just want her to like you back.'

Either way, you couldn't let that haunt your conscience for now. Even as much as you'd like to visualize a future with her, it wouldn't work. You could feel the heat pooling into your cheeks as you came back to reality and bit down on your lip. Jenny's hand was lingering up and down your back, rhythmically making shapes with the tips of her fingers. Damn her and her touch! You shouldn't be feeling this way.

"Are you okay?" You shook your head and covered your face with your hands, trying not focus on all the pain you felt inside. "No. No, I’m not."

You felt tears burning in the sides of your eyes. "This isn’t working!” Jenny furrowed her brow and tried to move your hands away from your face. “What do you mean?” She was trying to be gentle even though you could tell from the look in her eyes she had no clue what to do.

“This..all of this!” You ripped the sheet music out of her hand and flung it on top of the piano. “Something's got to give,"

She rolled her eyes as if she seen it all before and stood up, walking hastily over to the ice bucket. "Do you not have what you want?" She opened up a bottle of red wine. "Fame? Recogniton?"

"It's not enough and I don't know if I even have any of that anymore." Jenny eyed you as she poured the liquor heavily into both glasses. "I'm not liked here, Jenny."

She handed you your glass and sat down next to you. You eagerly took a sip of the wine, just wanting to forget everything for a little while. "That's not true. I like you." She leaned in closer to you.

You cracked a small grin filled with cynicism. Maybe even a little bit of hostility. Never had you felt so much love and hate towards someone at the same time. "We could both leave." Jenny's voice pulled you out of your head.

"And go where?"

"Back to Sweden with me for the time being." You noticed the intensity in Jenny's eyes growing and she reached out and grabbed your hand. You could feel her nimble gently squeezing into the palm of your hand. "You know I care for you, Y/n."

"Do you?" You tried your hardest not to sound sarcastic, you were still a little mad at her. But god! How close she was to you. You could smell her expensive perfume, see the slight hint of a shimmer radiating off of her lips. "You're fiery and you don't take my shit."

This couldn't be real. You had to be dreaming. "Jenny, this...there's a possibility this couldn't work." You tried to scoot away from her, a little intimidated by the proximity between the two of you.

"We can try to make it work."

"How?" You eyed her skeptically. "Let me take you out. Let me show you I can make this work." You furrowed your eyebrows. "Why? Need a new fling after Phineas?" You teased.

Jenny wasn't amused by that all. If anything she was pissed but she smiled anyways. Seeming to stoop down to your level with a smile that was sickly sweet. "More like a date."

"And why should I do this with you?" She let go of your hand and placed it on your thigh. "Because I probably understand you alot more than you think." As you looked into Jenny's eyes, you found some level of sincerity mixed into those deep lustful orbs. You wanted to trust her so badly.

"What do I have to lose?" You thought.

Everything. Everything to lose.

"Fine." You gave in, despise everything in your mind screaming not too. "But you have one shot and one shot only."

Jenny nodded and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. "And it won't take me more than once to impress. After all, I already made your career." You felt the hair on your arms stand straight up as her hands lingered on you, gently squeezing your hips.

"I'll see you tomorrow at 6. Sharp."

"Yeah," you watched as Jenny walked away, her hair flowing behind her like a beautiful sheath.

You felt a pit growing in the depths of your stomach. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

[taesd-urag]

pornstars

wattpad - @taesdurag

the last imagine I posted was somewhat successful, so I’m back.

K.TH & J.JK

"And that's a wrap boys! Good work out there."

The girl that they worked with, Mika, hurriedly ran over to them with a sultry expression that made her look constipated with her awkwardly slouched body then proceeded to tell them she wished to work with them again soon before prancing off. Jungkook nodded with a small smirk and Taehyung just watched her walk away.

The boys grabbed their towels and hopped off of the bed, leaving the set, and then made their way towards their dressing rooms, picking up refreshments on the way.

"She was bland as fuck." Taehyung muttered with a blank expression. Jungkook looked at him and chuckled, "I couldn't even bust one if I tried with her."

"She was carrying stones on her fucking chest and had the nerve to be missing teeth. I was kind of hoping she knew how to gum it down but I was so uncomfortable and left highly disappointed. I think I'm going to have to speak with these damn people and know if they're just picking up strays off of the streets now." Taehyung said, distaste strong in his words.

The boys got themselves cleaned up and switched into their tailored suits before making their way to the lounge where everyone was gathered.

"Ah, boys. We were just discussing you. Come, have a seat." Their manager said, surrounded by other people who seemed to be of high importance in the industry. They took their seats and listened to what he had to say.

"We're sorry for the inconvenience with Miss Mika, she was so desperate to work with you guys and we couldn't turn her down because she has a fan base and a platform known for slander." Taehyung didn't bother hold back his harsh remark.

"Wow, the uneducated whore has fans? And there's this thing called contacting authorities." The manager just sighed as the others laughed. There was this one woman that kept eyeing Taehyung and Jungkook was flirting with the girl that served the snacks.

"I know but we don't need any scandals. We have a nice, clean record and we're trying to keep it that way." He looked at the two others who nodded at him and looked back towards Jungkook and Taehyung who honestly looked as if they'd rather be anywhere else.

"So, that's why I need you to hear these kind people out," Bang PD said, gesturing to the two others that occupied the couch near them. "They're willing to give you guys a new experience. Something Korea hasn't seen before." Bang PD slid them an envelope that contained pictures of a beautiful girl, no woman, that went by the alias jamais oublié. Her real name was Y/N L/N, she was born and bred in H/T. She was 25 years old and has been in the industry for four.

There was a few things that most definitely made her stand out from others. She was black and, well, thick. Fat as others would call it, or in this case people of their own race.

"Yea, she's most definitely different," Jungkook cocked an eyebrow, eyes scanning over the authentic photos with interest. "But, wouldn't this make our views go down considering she's not of our race and doesn't exactly meet Korea's beauty standards?"

The woman that was occupying the couch and quietly listening to the conversation intervened lightly, "There might be a majority of Koreans watching your films, but not all. That's exactly why we chose her for this. She's different. Korea has the same old bland and boring vanilla shit in almost every film. You guys are different. You stand out," She said bluntly.

"Mrs. Anais is right. This is what we need, especially since our views are increasing steadily but at a fast rate. We aren't like other platforms that produces the same reaction every time. We like variety. And this is a chance to show others what we have to offer." Bang PD said passionately, he called the snack bearer over before helping himself to a glass of the sparkling water.

Taehyung was still quiet during the whole ordeal. He had one of the photos in his hand, taking in every gorgeous detail of the woman that was going to be under him soon if he had any say. He was pretty sure these measly photos weren't doing her any justice, and couldn't wait make his assessment true.

Jungkook cleared his throat with a smirk etched onto his face and leaned forward in his seat, "Well, I think I should watch some of her content. I would like to see what the hype is about." And Taehyung wanted to slap him.

How absurd could this imbecile get?

"She's very gorgeous. Exotic even-,"

"She's not a damn animal."

Jungkook slid his gaze over to Taehyung who kept the same unfazed look on his face. He continued going on about their next conquest, eyeing Taehyung every now and then.

Taehyung closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. What the hell was wrong with him? He had only seen a few pictures of this girl and here he was ready to turn into Michael Ealy and he hadn't even met her yet.

How unfortunate. For her.

But then again, infatuation doesn't last long and he only planned on exploiting her. Nothing major.

"So, are we agreeing? Or do we have to take our business elsewhere? We only came here because you guys are the best, why settle for anything less?" Anais said, persuasion clear in her voice.

"Hm, the buttering up tactic. You've got that down packed. Though we know that we are in fact the best, we would have outright told you that you aren't needed if we didn't want to work with you." Taehyung rebutted.

Anais smirked, nodding her head before signaling towards the man next to her who got out a notepad. "Shall we exchange numbers? Coming back and forth to your headquarters puts quite the strain on my schedule and frankly gives me much more stress than what is needed in my hectic life."

Bang PD nodded and took his cellphone out before taking down her number and her his. Anais stood, along with the unnamed man.

"So, we'll have to arrange a meeting as soon as possible. I'll send you the information tomorrow. Thank you for your time boys." The clicking of her heels were heard until the ding of the elevator sounded and took the two guests away.

Bang PD also went his separate way once they'd left, no doubt going to help edit their recent film. Hopefully putting that shit in the garbage.

Taehyung noticed they didn't bother to gather up the photos. Photos that he now claimed as his as he gently stuffed them back into the envelope and stood, taking his own leave.

"Have fun beating the skin off of your dick," Jungkook said smartly, walking up behind him. "I know I will. I can't wait to have my way with her." He hummed. "She's thick in all the right places so being rough with her won't be a problem. It would be even better if she was a runner. And a squirter." Jungkook slapped a hand on his back  and winking before walking back towards the poor girl that was skipping out on her duties to talk to him.

Kim Taehyung's life was never uneventful.

He was going to have that slut fired tomorrow even though she had a brother that was in the hospital with an insurmountable amount of hospital bills and two other siblings to take care of.

References

jamais oublié - never forgotten

Michael Ealy - The fine man from The Perfect Guy w/ Sanaa Lathan.

unedited.

[punkscowardschampions]

Jimmy & Janis

Poor Pablo

Jimmy: You here? Janis: standing to attention, like Janis: what's up? Jimmy: Can I stay at yours tonight like? Janis: 'Course, my Dad already extended the offer when he was trying to parent me lol Janis: Yours doing your head in? Jimmy: Seriously though? I'll sleep in the bath and try not to have Skerries flashbacks. Give a shit Jimmy: Yeah Janis: You don't have to Janis: though I've been told its comfier than you'd imagine if you're feeling it Janis: What's his damage...not ideal they had to call the parentals in but it is just detention, not a court date, y'know? Janis: I'd have figured out a way to take all the blame if I knew he'd go off Janis: Wank bank fantasy getting outta hand in the stalls? 🤔😉 Jimmy: It's an excuse for him to get at me, that's it Jimmy: Doesn't really matter what the drama is Jimmy: 😍 Proper romantic you 💕 Janis: Yeah Janis: Suppose it'd make a nice change to have you as the bad guy for once, eh? Janis: fuck that though Janis: Who me? Janis: never Jimmy: What d'you mean 😎👎💔 Jimmy: I'm so bad Janis: Very bad boy, NOT bad guy, waaaaaay different vibe Janis: Silly Jimmy: Good save Janis: Not a goalie or a superhero Janis: but Janis: 💪 Jimmy: 🏆 Jimmy: What time can I come over? Freezing here casually Janis: Come over now idiot Janis: Be doing me a favour anyway, be your charming self so I can escape the fam Jimmy: Done Jimmy: Want me to bring you anything? I'm thinking chips but no pressure Janis: Quite the offer Janis: but no need Janis: there's always so much food going in this gaff Janis: may as well help yourself Jimmy: Yeah? Jimmy: Alright Jimmy: I'm just gonna get Cass to bring me some stuff out #doorstepdrama Jimmy: Like fuck am I gonna come back here any earlier than needs Janis: That's fun 😒 free entertainment for the neighbours, nice one 👍 Janis: at least Cass'll get a kick out of helping the outcast hero Janis: Best to let him have his paddy, yeah, he'll be begging you back when he can't figure out where the kid's school shoes are Jimmy: I wouldn't bother but I need my charger in case Bobby can't sleep. Cass shouldn't have to handle that on her own Jimmy: She's be the definition of #buzzing for this part at least Jimmy: Maybe Twix'll shit in his shoes this time, 'cause bitch be loyal Janis: Shame you can't bring them both but kidnap would technically be something to shout about Janis: They'll be alright though, she's a tough cookie and a smart kid Janis: Get Grace to facetime him a bedtime story, he'd love that and she'd feel like she's doing jackanory, like Janis: We can only hope girl comes thru Jimmy: He'll take her up on that if I don't. Boy is 💕 for Gracie Jimmy: You're not about to get off light though, Cass wants to hear from you that I'm alright Jimmy: My word isn't worth a damn apparently Janis: She ain't offering for you! Even if you're currently in her good books for taking a 🔥 photo, like Janis: Still not good enough to be her fave 🤷 Janis: Tough ground Janis: Well, she's got you there, you're not the best at using 'em 😏 100% taking the fact I'm being considered the reliable one for once Jimmy: You win this round Jimmy: Don't get too comfy with it though Jimmy: I am on my way Janis: S'lonely at the top Janis: Get on my level, boy 🥇 Jimmy: 🎻 Janis: rude Janis: biting the hand that feeds Jimmy: Learning from your true love like Janis: I won't stand such slander on her good name Janis: she's a revenge shitter only not a biter 😂 Jimmy: 😂 Jimmy: I'm having a smoke, you joining me or am I coming knocking? Janis: Lungs won't thank me but Pablo would if he knew how close he was to getting a smackdown Janis: Save me some I'm running Jimmy: *He took it easy on this one (not for her sake, you snooze you lose, mate) having been puffing away consistently since he slammed the door on his dad's ranting 'cause he'd needed to calm down. Or shut down. Naturally, it crept up on him, as persistent, which is why he's here, huddled in another cold doorway, waiting for a distraction that'll have him forgetting the barney his dad started days before and wasn't done with yet. Argumentative prick. Jimmy was happy to let Janis have that win, the only where he wouldn't (and couldn't) compete being in this, in drowning out the shit with something that isn't. There's no hiding the smile when he sees her, if the shadows do let him get away with it, they won't for long 'cause he's closing the gap between them instantly, refusing as much of the space as he can without giving himself away for doing it as he passes the cigarette over.* Janis: *She takes the cigarette like its second-nature, kiss on his cheek, feeling the familiar dimple of his smile, like they are too. Far from it on both counts. She's not a smoker, she needs her lungs clear and strong. And she's not in love, same reasons for her heart. Simple as. Still, she could enjoy the benefits of both without committing, couldn't she? Why not. It's not like she's faking either, just...dipping her toes. Only likely to incur minor damage, she reckoned she could take that and still get away laughing. Sure. Long drag before passing it back because without needing to even look his way, (though she did regardless, studious expression taking in his tight, stressed as shit, posture right now), she knew he needed it more. Janis jogs her legs up and down, 'brring' in the cold Winter night air.* You alright then? *She adds, as if they're just meeting on her doorstep by chance, not for reason. She smirks, shaking her head at herself, nudging his side.* Jimmy: *With the cigarette back between his fingers and the girl by his side he gets what he needs, the familiarity a reminder that this is his normal, not what he rushed to leave behind. To pick up his girlfriend for dinner his dad will have to drop this, rely on moody silence to show how he really feels and his own fakery, in this woman's company, for what he thinks he should. They all know how to handle the first, years under their belts, and the second idea's even more temporary. Fuck it. Jimmy could make a single cigarette last longer than his dad's current relationships, and had done, sometimes. Not this one though. Nah. He wasn't the dickhead to keep his girlfriend shivering while he pissed about blowing smoke in the dark. He took a final drag before flicking it away to meet Janis's contact with his own, using his now free hand to gently brush a loose curl from her cheek.* Yeah, mate, you? Janis: *Janis scrunches her nose up, batting his hand away, mix of bashfulness and banter, blown with a raspberry. Turns out, sex is alright, stunning review there, indescribably better than alright obviously but- its the smaller, everyday moments of intimacy, that had flown under her radar when she wasn't receiving them, that she still finds herself flinching from, or covering up said flinch with some kind of bullshit she finds it easier to wear, to shoulder.* Fine. *She blurts out, flustered and being a little sharp with it. Get it together. More jokes, forever skirting around serious, not getting too real or too deep 'cos they both know there's no coming back and why ruin it and- She peers at him, like he's a dog in Crufts, pretending to shine a torn in his eyes, checking his teeth, that kinda shit.* Hmm, healthy enough specimen. Gonna give me anything else to give to your Sister though, like? Dunna if 'yeah' is gonna get her off the phone in a hurry, to be honest. Not that I give a shit, or nothin', don't get it twisted. *She grins, turning to the door and then back again, lingering, reluctant to open the door yet, knowing they'd get descended upon by someone almost immediately. All fun and games. Still, there wasn't a world in which she was gonna turn him down and have him out on the street, like. No way.* Jimmy: *He plays along as though it's still a game and why not? He's just admitted to himself how used to fakery he is, being a family trait like, with both of them for him to thank. Not that he's sparing a thought for his mum, first or second. Not now. He told himself no more slips with the girl beside him and meant that just as much. More. It's easier to stick to on every level, and he does, ruffling her hair fully when he gets the chance. Eyebrows raised and an expression of his own ready to wear. This, he can keep up all night, same as the exaggerated huff that he let's escape, like a Twix snore, into the night along with the shrug that follows.* Use your skills, throw in as many hashtags as it takes to put her at ease. Throw in a selfie if she still isn't convinced. Me sleeping sound should do it. * He's joking but not wrong for it, not able to remember a time when he fell asleep before the other two. Cass'd be beyond 'shook' to even see a fake out of him getting a good forty winks. Jimmy smirks through the thought, forcing it to pass.* You got this, girl* He retorts it in the best mimicry of how Mia and that crowd speaks that his accent can do, wincing slightly both at the impression and idea of them being around. Still, he claws some of his 'clout' back with a challenging look that adds 'What else have you got.' 'cause who are they if there's not a challenge ongoing. As if to emphasis this, he goes towards the door himself, pushing it open with more daring than he actually feels. * Gonna invite me in then, or what? Janis: *She kisses her teeth angrily, full on 'boy, if you don't stop-' vibes, planting a balled fist in his stomach, gentle warning like, no need to assault him before the family saw to it with their over-the-top nature and curiosity. She knew it would but it was getting to her more than she imagined even. The cooing and awwing or the piss-taking and wink-wink nudge-nude of it all, whatever approach they took, why did they have to? What business was it of theirs? Of anyones? Why did there always have to be a song and dance about everything? The hot takes she'd never ask for. Ruined everything. Why did they care? About this? About her? Just fuck right off. Messy. Too messy. Family, feelings- fuck it all. She used to kid herself, couple of years ago, when it happened, that she'd move out as soon as she could and that'd be it. They'd leave her alone. And she could just exist. Run, sleep and repeat. And that is all she'd have to do. No thinking or feeling ever. But she knew better now. They weren't just going to disappear, even if she changed postcodes. Even Edie couldn't manage that. And she had really tried. The others didn't want to. So she was stuck. Here in the land of the living. Forced to participate, like it or not. Then Jim had come along. Made her like it, a little bit, like. And he'd made her think maybe she could add to her shortlist of approved activities. But let her think about that for too long and she always came to the same conclusion; that she was a fucking idiot and it'd all end in tears. She sighed, overexaggerating it last minute to pretend it was in reply to his showy huffing and puffing.* Not my skill-set, kid. You were always better at it than me. Not just the snappin', like. Right up until you jumped ship for a pretty face, #commitment. *She laughs.* But for Cass, I'll see what I can do. *Cringing at the accent-attempt and gasping in mock-horror at the invocation of Mia and co. (as if say their names three times and they'll appear to tell you your outfit is ugly) she puts a finger to his lips, pushing him behind her at the same time so she can lead the way in too.* Ta-dah! *She flourishes, with a shrug to say 'you asked for this' 'cos there was no hiding now. The downstairs open-plan, parentals unconvincingly 'busying' themselves in the kitchen. Iggy, Diego, Gus and (thank fuck, 'cos we know who's the likeliest to be a prick here) Pablo so far unaccounted for, Grace watching telly, curled up with her phone as per. Janis was ready to bolt up to her room, not so much as a hello but reckoned Jimmy wouldn't want the rep of being her 'rude boyfriend' (as concerned as he was with opinion clearly, bless) so she shouts out 'Jim's here', eyes on the stairs, giving them five seconds to respond before she was up 'em, like.* Jimmy: *The house makes him feel the same as it did the first time he was here once he's through the door again, thankfully though the urge to whistle is muted today, full of sobriety as he is, in every sense. He knew her family weren't renters in over their heads like his from day 1, it isn't just that like. He isn't just some reverse snob, it's everything here they haven't had to buy, and he couldn't if he had armfuls of cash. The 'vibe' he'd probably call it if he was Grace or her crowd. Still, he nods at everyone about as if it's common place for him to him to be greeted by a warmth that's nowt to do with temperature.* Evening. *He's got his smile back on but Jimmy's hand is scratching the back of his neck before he can stop it giving him away and all he can do is 'reckon' on Janis being too caught up on her own family dynamics to call him out for his lack of. That's the real #goals, isn't it? He thinks to himself, trying to shake these feelings off him without moving. Or sighing. You massive dickhead. Grace waves at him without looking up from her phone screen, a slice of his home life #relatable enough he can follow her sister's gaze with a decent smirk and a readiness to deal with what's gonna come down. Need's must had him here in the first place, alright, but now he's made it as far as asking to be let in, he'd like to stay. Not only be a grumpy twat Janis is stuck with, but a laugh she wants to stay about. In her gaff and out of it. When nobody immediately appears he heads up himself, not forgetting her insistence to lead the way before, he looks over his shoulder at her, obvious with it that's there's nowt for her to do now but keep up.*  Unlucky, mate. You're not getting off that easy, we've got a whole night ahead. Janis: *Janis is holding herself rigid, eyes fixed as tight and strong on her parents letting them know in no uncertain terms to behave...and they did? Leaving it at cheery hellos and promises of dinner being done in about half an hour if they fancied it. Hm. First time for everything. Letting disbelief at their ability to be normal for once in their friggin' lives (where had this been all the other times she'd begged them/the universe for it?!) carry her up the stairs behind Jim. She let him flounder in the burrow-like corridors of upstairs, so different to the openness of the downstairs, that'll teach you to go ahead, boy, she thought with a smirk, now pushing in front with arms wide open.* Pick a door, any door! *She laughed, heading to her own before he actually did, not knowing who was in.* Welcome to my humble-abode... *She added, as they were over the threshold, kicking her gym bag, over-spilling with laundry, aside. She sat down on her unmade bed to assess, from outsiders, from his, eyes. Not here enough anymore that it was critically messy, that was good; old posters covering up old holes in the plaster from older anger, nothing cringe, thankfully but- It was a bit sad, to be honest...bare, lacking...anything, personality, life. She sighed. Red-faced from embarrassment and redder still from anger at feeling that embarrassment. She didn't care about herself, yeah. And what? And what is that her room said as much in no uncertain terms and having him see it was just- well. Shaming. Time for a joke.* If this setting don't get you in the mood, I don't know what will. Jimmy: *10 kids, he reminds himself, when he reaches the top and is met with an upstairs that belongs to a different house. That disconnect continues, growing, when Janis opens one of the doors in the maze. Hers. He's got no room to judge, none of his house looks lived in yet, as if Cass can protest having to by refusing to help unpack, knowing he doesn't have (or want to make, 'cause there's enough stuff in there for it to be boring, but then there's what's missing too, which is worse. Depressing.) the time to tackle the unopened box on his own after months. He isn't. Judging, that is. But he can't stop himself looking about, eyes focusing again on what there is, and isn't. What it means. And doesn't. Fuck. What a pair, they are like. Jimmy has to say something, silence will have her thinking all kinds of shit that isn't right. Least of all that he's a twat. Which, sort of is. He's equipped to be that though, which is something. He can easily grin at her, fall into simple, old habits. Banter by numbers that'll be #nodrama for her to throw back at him. 'Cause whatever his dad might think right now, he's not the dickhead trying to make everything harder. Why would he? The day to day shit already has that covered. So he aims his biggest 'heart eyes' at her, from the earliest days of their fakery, hiding any real expression in the over-the-topness of it all, for her as much as him (he tells himself, without needing much convincing with the blush spotted. It isn't thanks his charms, they both know. But in a second they can pretend it's his cringe factor.)* Only got eyes for you, babe. We could be anywhere. *Still, even as he's mocking himself with mimicking throwing up in his mouth, before she can, naturally, passed that, somewhere real he's deciding that should she suggest getting out of here to elsewhere tonight he's not about to fight it. Wherever they end up. #nocringe. It'd be too much of a lie to act like asking to come here was too much and everything that's come after, as a result, is too. He shouldn't have done it and there's no wonder everything's been off since. Her room could be the same as downstairs and he wouldn't wanna stay there, would he? It's his 'vibe' fucking things. Cheers dad. Jimmy sighs, throwing himself on the bed, and turning it into the appreciative whistle he didn't do at the door. Fucking hell.* Janis: *The eye-roll comes so hard it has her reeling, spinning out in her own head. At least, its better for them both if she pretends that's what's got her feeling dazed and disorientated. Sick with not knowing how to play this. No 'oh my, a boy in my room!' giddiness, fuck that shit. It was 'oh my, having to spend time in this depressing pit'. And his hand forced to spend his time here too. It'd be different if he had wanted to. Maybe. Okay, probably not. But if he had wanted to then they really wouldn't care where they were, paying no mind to anything but each other, not like his car was a lambo or like she'd given two fucks then, so it might've been tolerable. Ignorable, at the very least. But he HAD to be here. Nowhere else to go. That paired with how this room inadvertently showed all her cards had her feeling as bare as their surroundings, #exposed as they would say for the craic. Not that she was mad at him for not begging to sleepover just 'cos he wanted her so bad, again, fuck that shit hard. Not that girl. Everything was just weird and off and it didn't lend itself to a good night's sleep for either of 'em, she was willing to bet. She shrugged, those muscles so overworked, never skipped, massaging at the tension there in vain. Bounced from the dramatic way he flung himself down, she rests herself down on her elbow beside him, face to face.* If you want, we can go to the Barn. Its kitted out, like- *She pauses, thinking back on the times when it had been a place they all made Diego's films together, the times it had been Edie and Rio's bedroom, sneaking in there with them, leaving Grace alone in the dark of their old shared room. Now, well- She spent even less time in there than she did here. Only venturing when it was so dark and she felt so alone, it just felt right to hide out in there; harking back to all those many nights she'd sneak out, praying Edie would be there again, and to the one night, she was. Tucked up in her bed as if she'd never left. As if she wasn't really there. But she was. She was. And she'd gestured for her to get in with her and they'd just held each other...Janis holding on for dear life, determined to NEVER let go, so she couldn't leave again. She thought she felt the same desperation, in the way her big sister clutch to her too, almost hurting her but she would have never of complained. Determined to keep her in sight, eyes wide open and staring into hers, barely visible in the dark but there. She was there. Of course, she had fell asleep, and of course, when she awoke, the sun was up and Edie was gone. She was just a fucking kid, like. 'A fucking failure is what you were. And are.' She shook her head. At least the barn HAD memories, more than you could say of the box room she'd relegated herself too. No longer able, or needing to share with anyone. Not Grace. Or Rio and Edie. They'd all gone. Empty rooms to fill.* All mod cons and a comfy bed, like. But you can keep that between us and add to your sob story, yeah? *She mimics the tiny violin he was always sending, #IRLShade like, hoping the piss-taking would distract from the disjointed nature she'd made that offer in. Ghosts refusing to let her go, let her be with him fully. She never could be. It was the sad kind of hurt when you just know, know that whatever you're doing, or want to do, won't work. And knowing this and knowing you're gonna hurt the other person, so far so clueless. Oh, Jim. Why do you think I was on my own when you met me, boy?* Jimmy: *He's fucked it instantly, looking at her too hard, all the bollocks stripped back and away by how close she is, suddenly, though he should have expected it. Not like her bed's big enough for anything much else, but he never does, somehow. Still. Ever. Breathing hurts but he forces himself not to keep it shallow, refusing to swap places so soon when she was meant to be the one swooning. Fake or not. And there's so much real shit he wants to say, but can't. Again, too much. It leaves him only inhaling and sighing, brooding like the kinda poser he isn't trying to be on any day. Least of all this one. Does it matter though? It doesn't feel like it when his hand drops before it can reach out, touch her in any way, jokes as out of bounds as anything. He isn't meant to be lost with her, but tonight doesn't give a fuck about that, does it? He jumps on the offer a change, nodding, frantic for a kick that'd have him behaving like less of a dick. Please. The fucking break he hasn't asked her for is there, inching closer to letting itself be said, and he's scared of that, going there like.* Alright. *He wants to give himself a smack for how quiet he sounds. Serious. Okay knobhead, calm it. Good luck following that through when you know you've got none though, Jim. He's up and taking her hand before he can dwell on it, moving to take the lead as far as retracing their steps and being out. He can handle that geography. Jimmy does allow himself a pause small enough only to draw a cross over his heart playfully once she's played the violin for him. Thanks, mate. It's almost spoken aloud 'cause of the relief the familiarity of it , brought here and now, comforts him. Alright, calm it again, tosser. But yeah, that works, letting him. He walks stretching their linked hands as far as possible while staying connected, laughing genuinely, still soft but out there. He draws a quick tick over the same space, hurriedly.* Done. Janis: Alright. *She confirms with a nod as serious as his close-to-silence was. Couldn't accuse him of being a man of too MANY words usually, like, but still, spoke volumes, didn't it? Could write friggin' volumes on how badly she was fucking it up with him now. That's what you did after break-ups, right? Write wanky (in all the ways) poetry. Fuck that. Get the fuck out of your own head, fucking eejit! Now! He's still here yet. She seized the conversation by the balls, 'fore it got away from her grasp again, immediately adding-* Alright, alright, alright! *Matthew McConaughey style. 'Cos Christ, someone had to cut through the tension and she weren't about to invite the fam up to give it a go. Fuck that, too. Even if it was awkward as arse, to say the least, and the dead and buried past was unearthing itself just to try drag her under tonight- she still wanted it to be just them. Him and her, fuck the rest. And that was something. Even if that was all she could get, all she still had. She'd cling to that with bleeding, broken nails, jaw clamped, teeth sunk deep in the flesh of it. It was something. She was so fucking used to, so fucking sick of, nothing. A promise, or a prayer, she repeated it over and over, 'til she near believed it herself. With this in mind, she pulls on the hand that is leading her, pulls him back, understanding his rush and only wanting to slow it for one thing. She mimics shooting him where he had been tracing, where she wants to trail her own fingers badly, as he draws in, she puts her fist over his heart, thumping up and down, up and down, before exploding out- And with that, she kisses him, as desperate as he was to take up her offer and run, she needed this more. And she had never known anything she needed more than to run. But she did. She did.* Done. *She mirrors, drawing her lips away from his, with a smirk. Ahead again, one foot on the top step.* Jimmy: *He's about to descend back into mockery, the words 'all about the obscure refs, you' there, ready to go if he's willing to release them, thoughts already going backward, onto the typed convo where she tried to give him an artsy education, school him about muses, all of that, but before he can take the step she's pulling him, literally to where she's forced a stop. In the first second he's tense, thinking it's a full one, that she's done with him and the company he isn't being tonight, but before he can fall further into his pit (he's in there enough, prior that she's tried to dig at him with her best McConaughey, for fuck's sake) he all but floats out. There's no # that could cover this in his stunted imagination, he thinks, before his brain shuts off. The kiss is more than the break he didn't have the balls to ask for (though it lasts about as long as the one he'd gave her, standing on some twat's marble floor). It's a separation from all the shit that's been running him ragged for days, forcing him to run here in the first place. Jimmy knows then that he'll stay, has to, not 'cause there's nowhere else to go, but 'cause nowhere else exists when she kisses him like that. Fuck. It basically escapes, not as the word, but in sound that he can't escape either. Doesn't want to. The only thing he cares about is keeping this close to her and knowing she's alright with him being there. More than fucking alright like.* Nah mate *He retorts breathlessly, clawing back some strength back only as his hands find her hips and use the grip he's found there to spin her body round to face him. He isn't done yet, there's no chance. Not now she's given him one to erase the last few days and land him back into decent ones with her. Jimmy's an echo of how he was after running from Mr Lucas and he's not letting go of that. What for? 'Cause his dad wants him to. Fuck that and fuck him. What was he done with was feeling like shit. So of course he kissed her again, sinking only into the depths of that, trying to say everything with it that he couldn't verbally. Needing to have a go even though it meant hearing Janis' clatter into the beginnings of the banister with the force of everything he was desperate for her to know, 'cause if he pulled back then that'd be it and he's not having that. Fuck no. He's lost enough, tonight's bed being the least of it. Janis: *If she was going to complain, (she wasn't), he doesn't give her the time, or space, to do so. Exactly what they both needed; and she didn't need to reckon that. Crashing together, crashing into the wall, like. No room for anything to come between 'em, not their thoughts or past or any of that bullshit; all blurring into background nothingness, where it belonged. In these moments, there was nothing but them and their need. And it was good. Really good. The kind of good she didn't need to second-guess or overthink. Just be in it and soak in every second, every touch, the heat and feel of his skin against hers, alive, human, real. The violence of the urgency, the competitive one-upping- Not only keeping it interesting (to say the fucking least) but keeping it as something she could understand, something that didn't scare the living shit out of her, frankly. Easy as breathing, this; Though both theirs was heavy now, laboured from the control of letting some of said go, whilst not losing themselves to it so wholly that they alerted someone to it, spoiling their fun for the second time in a week. A game of meeting every kiss of his with more, and then some. Biting, tugging at his bottom lip in, trying in vain to make the kiss even deeper. Nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him down with her as her back slid down the wall, him sat at the top of the stairs, her on his lap. 'How did you stop yourself though?' A faint voice in the back of her mind pondered, with no intention to found within her. Clearly, they needed the Mr. Lucas' of the world or they'd never get anything else done. Clearly channeling the man himself, Pablo chose this time to appear out of his room, quite literally stumbling onto the scene, and them, Janis sticking out an arm (and jumping off Jim's lap) with lightning reflexes so he didn't topple down the fucking stairs.* Oops, watch it... *She didn't have time (nor desire) to be embarrassed. Her older Brother's mumbly, half-asleep grumbles of 'a-fucking-gain? Really Janis?!' and promises to 'have words with you, later!' to Jim, had her creasing. When Pablo was out of sight, and out of mind as soon as, she rested her head on the shoulder she'd left nailmarks in, kissing it gently though she wasn't particularly sorry about it.* Jimmy: *It isn't until she has to save him from hitting the bottom of the stairs with a thud that he even sorts out in his head again where they are, beyond the abstract bollocks of 'together' and all that. It takes that much to get through to him, but he isn't sorry, 'cause he isn't alone in it. If he's falling, figuratively as well as the near literal, then she is too. And that's alright by him. More than fucking alright, as per like. Jimmy can laugh through this interruption, at what it takes to pull them apart now (unlucky Mr Lucas but you probably won't cut it next time) adding to it himself with the breathless whisper of 'fucking hell, mate' that finds only her ear as he shakes his head affectionately at the pair of 'em. Janis' brother's appearance (along with anything he might have said) forgotten as soon as it's happened, same as before. If they'd been any room for it he might have felt bad for the lad, keeping mugging him off like that, but he still wants what he wants. Needs, honestly. There's no forgetting, or ignoring that any 'itch' has only been scratched so far as to make it more 'itchier', more noticeable in the first place. It's a crap analogy but it's what's there as he pulls her down the stairs and back towards the door, rougher and noisier that he would if he could make a string of thoughts or words fit together properly to promise her that this still isn't done. Jimmy 'reckons' in a semi coherent idea that he'll barricade the barn door with any or all manner of shit, once they are there,  to guarantee no more interruptions tonight. Bet on that, mate, his expression says, as they go. Jinx. Fuck. He almost kicks the door in frustration upon hearing the shout for dinner, her dad's head catching them as 'ready' for it. Pfft. No chance. It smells good, yeah, but there's no contest. Janis feels, looks and smells incredible like. Meals can wait, they always did at his, even when he had his mum there to do his job of moving a tray of something from freezer to cooker, or his pop's of fetching a takeaway when in from work, there was no sitting down at a this or that time. No table to eat at either, just the sofa, or his bed when he was being the type of utter dickhead that only a certain age manages, whenever it was put in front of him. Here at Janis, that time, was right now. And worse, ('cause of course there's worse with his English luck) before he can do a dash that'd have that school day looking like slo-mo, his stomach rumbles, sealing the deal and their fates. His girlfriend has never let him go hungry yet. Shit. To be continued then.*