#i can only think about the new jeans girlies and how young they are

[emeraldbabygirl]

Hearing more about the omega x situation, not reading the twitter thread cause I do not want to go there, and knowing that they are going through what ateen did and similar in abuse to trcng ugh. I’ll never understand why the industry is like this. Can’t people just be kind and respectful? Ugh it gives me such a pit in my stomach like when I found out why they decided to make Snuffy visible in Sesame Street :/ it makes me skin crawl. And ateen member had to had therapy and counselors and member were straight up having nightmares. No one should have to go through shit like this it’s not fair. I’m just thinking about my lil Jinwoo over this I don’t even want..ugh these poor guys :(

[elsweetheart]

gm angel!!! i was wondering if u could possibly write abt ellie helping out an inexperienced reader like she has her first time with ellie n what the would be like!!

haaayyyy omg ok

slow burn.

🎀 innocent / inexperienced!reader, very smutty ! ellie being a cocky lil shit …

you knew you’d wanted ellie from the moment you met her.

you were entranced by her, both young teenagers, ellie a year or so older than you when she took you under her wing. you often recalled how she solidified your love for girls almost instantly, the crush on her hitting you flat in the face like a slab of concrete. you think back to her adorable pony tail, the way she dressed, the way she had boy-ish charm and playfulness but could comfort you the way only a girl could. you’d spent a long time following her around like a lost puppy, being known as “ellies shy friend”. over the years she’d forced you out of your shell again and again, dragging you around with your hand in hers, a constant reassurance.

inevitably, now adults, you’d ended up her girlfriend. “slowest fucking burn in the world.” the auburn haired girl often told you, shaking her head recalling the way two of you had grown up crushing on eachother without saying a word. “no seriously, what… the fuck… were we doing?” she chuckled, handing you the watering can as you worked. she found it sweet how you’d only been given the totally ‘girly’ jobs around jackson. tending to the horses, helping out in the garden etc. she couldn’t picture you leading a supply run or hunting like she would, nor would she want you to. your soft hands were best utilised back here, where you were safe.

“i guess i didn’t wanna ruin what we had. i knew you liked girls but i thought it was awfully presumptuous to assume you liked me just because we were close and i’m a girl.” you shrugged thoughtfully, trickling water on the soil. you turned your head to look at ellie for her thoughts, only to find her smirking. you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“presumptuous.” she repeat, amused at your use of such big and unnecessary words. she jumped off the wooden fence where she was sat, leaning forward to ruffle the top of your head. “my smart girl, aren’t you?” it wasn’t mocking, or patronising and yet it made heat rise to your cheeks, something else, another feeling stirring down below. before she had time to notice she was stepping away, stuffing her hands in her jean pockets. “alright, i gotta go meet tommy about some fuckin’ hunt he wants me to lead. i’ll see you later, yeah babe?” she began strolling away and as you lift you head to bid her farewell, hands pushing some new buds into the soil she spun on her heel, finger pointed towards you.

“hey—um,” she began casually. “you wanna come over tonight? i got that movie you said you wanted to watch, the scary one.” she flushed. it was still very early days in your relationship, finally having admit your feelings for eachother just about a month ago. even though you’d known her for years, the two of you were treading on totally new territory. she made you hot and nervous, even more than she did before now that she was all yours. she oozed confidence, and now she had you— her usual flirtiness was dialled up to ten. it had erupted some feelings you’d only briefly touched on before, one’s that would have you laying awake at night frustratedly palming at your cunt trying to dull the ache she’d leave from her lingering glances and gentle manhandling.

later that night, you were smushed up against her side on the couch— the old horror movie buzzing on the screen. the two of you were always affectionate, it was normal. but now, your heart raced when her arm slipped around the back of you, pulling you closer into her. “you know, incase you get scared.” she smirked, and you feel like the butterflies in your tummy bottomed out into your cunt. you stared up at her for a moment, totally unaware of her joking tone and nodded shyly, snuggling into her with your eyes glued onto the screen to hide your face. to be quiet honest, you had no idea what was going on in the movie, you were totally encompassed by being so close to her.

she seemed totally relaxed and in her element, which equally sucked for you as it made her even hotter, whilst easing your mind slightly that she had everything under control. her hand pushed your tshirt up your arm slightly, hands gently stroking and kneading the skin there in an attempt to comfort you. you realised that she must’ve thought you were on edge because of the movie, and not because of how much she effected your body. her hand was cold and slightly clammy, a stark comparison to how warm the rest of her was in her hoodie. you snuck a peek at her, eyes flitting over her profile. she was wetting her bottom lip with her tongue, eyes on the screen. everything seemed to suit her so perfectly, her hair pulled up into her messy half up bun, the freckles dusted over her nose and cheeks, the scar dividing her eyebrow into two. you felt so lucky to have her, and you wished you knew how to express to her how badly you wanted her.

“you know, i can see you staring.” her lips pulled up into another smirk, this one more adoring as she turned to look at you, her eyes moving in a triangle motion— from one eye, to your lips, to the other. you couldn’t help but openly look at her mouth too, glittering with moisture slightly from her own tongue. “hm?” came your delayed reaction, so zoned out— feeling light headed from the way she made you feel. this made her chuckle, low in her throat.

“hm?” she repeat, teasingly. “you want a kiss?” she offered, her hand now stroking down your back from your position, turned to face her. you didn’t even wait a beat, already embarrassed from the way you threw yourself at her. kissing was the one thing you did know how to do, wrapping your arm around her neck, an accidental moan leaving your throat when you did so. she took control quickly, pushing you back with her mouth, hand on your cheek to almost soothe your desperation. “easy, tiger.” she joked with a humble chuckle, pulling away to breathe and laugh at you. you felt your face turn all hot and your lips parted, realising how pathetic you were being. you blinked a few times, turning back to the screen like it never happened.

“sorry.” you blurt out, frozen in your spot from the humiliation. the amused smile didn’t falter on her face at first when she leant forward to look at your profile questioningly.

“hey, wait what?” her brows furrowed, the smile taking its time dropping. you didn’t say anything and she spoke again. “babe? what just happened, huh?” she gently took your chin, urging you to look at her and she nudged you slightly with her shoulder. you looked at her wide eyed and guilty, struggling with your words.

“i didn’t mean to — i just — i accidentally just totally threw myself at you because — i want — i don’t know ellie, i’m sorry.” you covered your face, feeling hot tears in your eyes.

“woah, baby!” she cooed sympathetically, not quite knowing what she’d done to get you so wound up but feeling incredibly guilty for it. “hey, don’t be like that. i liked it. i was just gonna tease you for it, that’s all. you know what i’m like, m’an idiot.” she chuckled reassuringly, both hands on your cheeks. you peered up at her shyly, letting her stroke her thumbs along your cheeks.

“really?” you clarified, blinking at her in the low light as the movie continued, unattended to in the background.

“really.” she confirmed with her classic ellie smirk, she pulled your face close to hers, lips just grazing over yours. “i actually thought it was kind of hot, seeing you all needy like that.” she breathed into your mouth, and right there and then your pussy clenched up, thighs near trembling with the force it had spasmed at just her voice. you worried for the couch beneath you, scared of dampening it from your seemingly abundant arousal.

you couldn’t say anything, just let out a shaky breath, leaning forward to try and connect your lips. she leant back a little, so fucking cocky and amused when you chased her, letting out a desperate, quiet ‘ah…’ as you did so. “uh-uh.” she cooed and your eyes fluttered open to look at her face, analysing you close up. she was trying to get you back to that place she had you before without the embarrassment. needy, desperate, bordering on frantic for her touch.

already without pride, you whispered. “please, ellie.” and she couldn’t help but grant your wish, pressing her lips to yours. the makeout session intensified past any point the two of you had gotten it before. you hadn’t even realised that you were moaning quietly as her tongue massaged yours, and she groaned back— more at the feeling of your chest heaving against yours, the subtle feeling of your nipples hard through your top pressing against her was driving her wild.

you knew she’d been with other girls before, much to your devastation over the years when she’d come back to you bragging about her new sexual endeavours. to you, it felt like confirmation that she would never in a million years like you. you’d spent many nights crying over this, or out right avoiding her when she’d go through these phases. luckily for you, her relationships never lasted that long— no more than a week or two at a time, and the reason behind the breakup was always vague and mumbled, ellie recovering from it almost instantly— clear that something vital had been missing (that being, you— of course.) to ellie, her bragging was a constant display of her worth to you. she knew, but wouldn’t admit that she was only trying to prove to you that she could make you feel good if you’d ever give her the chance, but she was sure she’d blown her chances by that point.

you however, were totally innocent. you didn’t understand half the sexual jokes ellie made, let alone understand the sexual acts she’d describe when she’d return to you after one of her little flings. she’d always chuckle, catching a glance of your wide, focused eyes before patting you on the head “you’ll learn what that means one day, don’t you worry.” she’d mock, amused by your lack of experience.

your back arched into her touch when she finally slid her slender hands up your top, stroking and worshipping your soft skin that she’d always wanted to get her hands on. a whimper forced its way past your lips when her fingers ran over your breasts. you pant against her mouth, before the moment was again broken by her quiet yet obnoxious laugh.

“what?” you whine, openly needy this time.

“nothing, s’just… god, i thought you were fuckin’ innocent dude. you want it so bad.” her lips catch yours again, pulling away ever so slightly to suck on your bottom lip as she groped you beneath your shirt.

“i don’t know how to— i don’t know what i want i just know that…” you began, voice strained and hoarse as she mouthed at your neck, undoubtably sucking a bruise like she did last time (which when noticed, earned you a wide-eyed side-eye from Joel himself the next day.) she pulled away from you, her eyes all pupil at this point, mouth wet and flushed with colour.

“you just know what, hm? s’okay, i don’t bite.” she couldn’t help herself from pecking you again. “unless, you know… you’re into that.” she stole another kiss, gently nipping your bottom lip, voice deep with the smirk laying across her mouth. you drew in a harsh inhale, trying to gather your thoughts.

“you know i’ve never…” you started and she nodded, giving you her full attention now.

“i know, babe. you don’t have to—” she reassured but you cut her off, hands grabbing her by the collar of her hoodie, practically half on top of her.

“i want to. i want you to… i need help. you make me need something and i don’t know what, but i can’t sleep at night and i can’t focus, els. just want you t’make it better.” she could feel you slipping. you were always so submissive to her, even in every day life she knew you’d do anything to please her— and now things were no different, except it had been dialled up, and you were staring at her with big doe eyes and lips that she wanted to push her fingers into and make you suck. she ran her thumb over your bottom lip just at the thought, picturing how pretty you’d look.

“you need me to make you cum.” she state boldly and your eyes widened a little bit. you knew that cumming meant an orgasm, and the thought equally scared you and excite you. you could never quite get there by yourself, mounting pillows and blankets and your hand — yet never quite sure what to do, just rutting against it like some kind of desperate bunny. “i can do that, baby. always wanted to do that.” she whispered in confession, her other hand sliding up your back to reach your hair, tugging gently and slowly to expose your neck more to her, bruising her lips back into it. you bucked your hips against nothing on the seat and she glanced down, hand soothing you against your thigh.

“can i touch you there, pretty girl?” she asked, hand sliding across the thick band of your leggings. her pinky finger grazed over your mound as she stroked you just briefly and you shivered, nodding. “fuck. i need you to say the words, babe. don’t wanna take anything from you that you’re not ready to give.” she was stern all of a sudden, commanding and kind all at the same time the way ellie had always been. it was comforting, your ellie was going to make you feel good.

“want you to touch me ellie. need you to teach me.” you whimpered, eyes glossy with need and glancing between hers.

“alright. alright, i got you.” she dropped another kiss to your mouth before leaning back to look at what she was doing. “‘m gonna take these off okay, baby? just get them out the way.” she muttered, the desperation slipping through in her own voice ever so slightly before she checked herself, gaining better control over her demeanour.

you helped her pull off your leggings, ellie gently easing you to lie down on the couch, leaning on her elbow laying beside you as she shield you from the horrors on the forgotten about movie on screen.

“these are pretty, you had plans to get me in your pants tonight huh?” she joked, running her finger lightly over the waistband of your lacey pink panties. you felt your body flush in light embarrassment, knowing she was totally onto you. you had infact worn your best pair, unsure of what might happen.

“no.” you hid your nervous giggle into your hands and she nudged them away with her chin, rewarding you with more kisses.

“its okay, i like ‘em. they suit you. plus i can’t say i wasn’t thinking about it.” she praises, pushing your tshirt up to grope your soft skin once more. “you ever touch yourself before?” her question catches you off guard and your breath hitches in your throat, thighs tensing a little which she ignores. “s’alright you can tell me. our secret.” she nudges her nose against yours as her fingers dip into your lace waistband, pulling out again to tease you.

“i’ve… tried. just don’t know what m’doing.” you shiver, eyes screwed shut in concentration, her hand setting your skin alight as she continually draws near where you need her.

“poor thing.” she tuts, hand sliding up your thigh to bend your knee, pulling your legs wider open. you feel your drenched folds part and you swear to god you hear a wet sound at the action, a tribute to how fucking turned on you were. you swallow thickly, and ellie kisses your throat. “you’re cute, always wanted to ask you that actually. used to think about you doin’ it, all alone in your room. figured one day you’d come knocking at my door beggin’ me for help. that day never came, you really toughed it out hm?” she was cooing at you, and you felt ashamed at how hard your chest was rising and falling, eyes fixated on her hand stroking your inner thigh.

“mmph— wanted to. wan’ed your help, els.” you whimper and she responds with a hard wet kiss on your cheek.

“and look at us now. see where using your words gets you, huh?” she teased. her hand cupped your mound finally and you sucked in breath, the pressure just enough to make your clit pulse beneath the indirect touch. you rocked your hips into her hand through your underwear, the friction of the lace burning against your button making you sob. “yeah? haven’t even gotten started on you yet, baby.” she digs her fingers in slightly, sliding them up to rub your clit in generous circles. you release a clear moan, grabbing her arm and digging your nails into her tattoo.

“th—feels good, ellie.” you whine and she smiles, nudging your head aside so she could kiss your neck again. “that was definitely the plan.” she mumbles jokingly against your skin.

you huff out in frustration at her teasing. “stop.”

she lifts her head to look at you, eyes dancing between your own. “stop what, touching you?” her fingers slow their motions.

“no!” your brows furrow desperately, bucking into her hand. “stop teasing me. be nice.” you pout, emotions sky rocketed from the vulnerable position she had you in. she smiled sympathetically, her fingers skilfully pull your panties to the side, digits swiping through your wetness. she smirks once more as your eyelashes flutter at the sensation.

“i dunno, think you like my teasing. sure does make you wet.” she closes in on you, latching her lips to yours once more as she pushes her fingers through your soaked folds, feeling the way you jolt against her. “see, i can be nice.” she mutters, circling your clit again, she swallows your moans, dropping her tongue into your mouth and letting it swirl around. she continued to please you, and you felt a growing ache — lower down, where your hole was. it pulsed and clenched around nothing as she gave all her attention to your clit.

“m—more, please.” you swallow thickly, the fast circles on your clit slowing.

“yeah? you enjoying yourself, pretty girl?” she kissed the corner of your mouth making you nod.

“you’re so, mmh, so good at this.” you whimper and she feels smug— knowing no one else could ever know your body like she would. her middle finger hooked round, pushing ever so gently against the gummy walls around your hole. she massaged it, easing your tension slightly and you bit your lip needily, eyes trained on hers as she watched your every move and reaction. she began pushing her finger in slightly, watching the way your body tensed and then relaxed, expression melting as your brows furrowed and your eyes fluttered closed.

“fuck.” she whispered harshly, tearing her eyes away to look down at her finger disappearing inside you. you were tight, and she didn’t want to jump the gun but the thought of you squeezing around her strap had her breathless. “y’need to relax for me, pretty girl.” her free hand stroked your lower tummy, soothing you. you’d clenched around her finger so hard that she could barely move it. “m’not goin’ anywhere. that’s it, there you go.” she praised as you willed yourself to unclench, a whimper at your efforts leaving you.

she massaged the gummy warm walls inside you, watching the way just one finger had you falling apart, sobbing into her mouth as you caught the rhythm, grinding against her hand. “good, yeah. you’re taking it so good babe. my good girl, aren’t you? always been my good girl.” she kissed your forehead, another finger prodding at your entrance. you whine at the intrusion but welcome it anyway, only clenching hard once you’ve swallowed her up to the knuckles. your toes clench at the fullness, along with everything else. her palm that had been knocking against your clit with each movement was making it all too much, and suddenly you could barely breathe.

you sucked in air, overwhelmed by the feeling. “ellie.” you gasped and she was cupping the back of your neck with her free hand, the other fingers stilled inside you.

“look at me, look at me.” she demand quickly and casually, your hazy eyes landing on hers. “breathe, baby i know it’s a lot. i know.” you let the panic wash past you as you slow your breathing, wide eyes stuck on her’s like they were your life line. “there. you’re so fucking good. just be calm, let it come to you.” she kisses your cheek and you nod, eyes fluttering closed again as you nod. her fingers start to move, slow and you moan, free and unabashed. “good girl, baby.”

her fingers curl up, and after a while of doing this they come across a soft spot— one that makes you cry. “oh, gosh— ellie!” you hiccup, tearful and desperate now bucking against her hand.

“right there?” her voice is calm, raspy and low in her throat as she looks straight at you, brows raised in almost sympathy.

“yeah—but— s’too much i feel like— g’nna pee!” you squeal in humiliation and she hides the chuckle that nearly breaks out of her because it wasn’t the time.

“i know angel, s’intense isn’t it? but it’s not pee. i promise you. just let go okay? when you’re ready j’st… j’st fucking let me have it, yeah?” her whisper gets desperate again and it makes you buck even harder against her hand— fingers pressing hard against your spot again. almost immediately, you’re tipping over the edge and seeing stars, brows furrowed and jaw dropped. ellie keeps up her pace, feeling like she could cum herself just from watching you lose it, clenching and squelching around her fingers. “good girl. good fucking girl. look so pretty cumming for me, that’s it.” she encourages through grit teeth, talking you through it. you can barely hear her, white noise deafening you as you hit your euphoria.

it becomes too sensitive too fast and you’re fumbling at her wrist to stop her. she does, of course and she’s letting you breathe right into her mouth— swallowing the pants and catching kisses where she can. years of waiting to touch you, and it was better than she ever could have imagined. despite the sensitivity, you whine pathetically when she pulls her fingers out, her head pointing down to look at the mess you’d made. even in the low light she can see your slick coating her hand and your inner thighs, and if you weren’t so out of breath you might be embarrassed. “god damn.” she chuckled and your eyes flicker open, demure and sweet as ever. she brings two fingers to her lips, oh-so-casually sucking the juices off them with a grateful hum. “taste as good as you fuckin’ look.” she compliments and your lips part slightly, invitingly. she brings them to your mouth now and you welcome them inside, sleepily suckling the remainder of your flavour off them. “shit.” she puffs out a breath, shaking her head. how had she bagged someone so sexy again?

“than—k’you ellie.” you garble around her fingers, greedily savouring the slick on your tongue as she watched, entranced.

“anytime, babe.” she huffs out. “no really. any time.” she reiterates, widening her eyes making you giggle.

you weren’t sure how great of a student you were, but you knew ellie was a damn good teacher.

♡

[moonystoes]

New girl? - Elisa De Almeida x popular!reader (high school students)

Here is : Part 2

Summary: When Elisa joins your school, it was difficult for you to behave your normal 'sweet' self around her....but why? This explains it lol.

A/n: I've already said this before, but I am new to writing, so constructive criticism is needed!! I already have two parts that need to be finished. Also, I saw a photo of elisa when she was 14 and she literally looked 10?? I can't even joke about this because I have the same issue where people think im 13 lol.

Warning: internalized homophobia!!, cringe...it's 2012 and the characters are 14 yall, no romance yet... its a slowburn series so im sorry. I'm laughing at y/n and yall should too. It's giving Wattpad but it's okay because it's nostalgic (i want to cry). Fleur (elisa's gf but we'll pretend that they're friends here😭🙏) and Marie (katoto) were mentioned... if you didn't know, they were in the same football academy when they were young.

This is a FANfiction, please do NOT view (young) Elisa that way.

wc: 5.504k

Since you joined Jean-Antoine School, you became the person to help out the new students, giving them the tour around. And as a result, teachers and students liked you, even the ones that never had you. At first, you liked the attention, but now it feels like a chore to please the teachers that have high expectations of you.

So right when the first day of school started, you were immediately asked to the office. As you walked to your principal's room, you stood at the closed door to wait for the student inside to finish. Filled with anxiety, you hoped the new student would be nice.

"Oh, no I'm sure she's busy with something, you can ask Fleur or Marie, I know them so it wouldn't be awkward." You heard a desperate voice, assuming it is from the new student. She clearly didn't want to meet someone new, which is understandable for you. But how does she know Fleur and Katoto?

"I understand Ms. De Almeida, but your friends wouldn't show you the school, they would just talk and distract you. Besides, y/n is very lovely and would help you a lot. I heard only great things about her." Mrs. Sommers argued back. You tried to sneak a peek, trying to glance at ‘De almeida’. But the door was closed shut, and there were no windows on the wooden door whatsoever.

Awkwardly standing there, you tapped the ground with your foot waiting for her to come out. When the door was opened, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Is this her brother, is she still in the room? Your eyes quickly glanced inside the office, only to hear a familiar voice.

"Umm... are you y/n?" De Almeida asked, you glanced from the office back to the... person next to you. You smiled kindly and nodded, "this is my schedule, she told me you'll show me around." Her husky voice hit you like a slap. Oh, okay... what the fuck is this.

You glanced at her schedule that is now in your shaky hands, realizing that she's in your grade and shares almost every class with you. You glanced to see her name, Élisa… What a cute name, it must be weird to have such a girly name just for her to look like a guy. You looked back at elisa, smiling shyly, “we share almost every class so I can definitely help you around the whole day if you want.”

Elisa felt at ease when she first saw you. She knew that shocked face, it happens to her everyday. In fact, it happened to her just a week ago with Mrs. Sommers when she joined the school and had to come early for testing. It was always a face of slight confusion when they realized Elisa is a girl and not a boy. Her brother, Alex, had told her that when she grows older it will get easier, but it didn’t seem that way. She didn't feel offended, but what bothers her is when people treat her differently when they realize she's a girl. When she saw you smile at her, her anxiety slowly disappeared. And now she's filled with excitement in reuniting with her friends, and updating them about her trip to Portugal in the summer.

“Thanks for offering, but I'd probably just have my friends do it.” She tried to kindly decline your offer without offending you.

“Yeah, okay!” You turned your body towards the office exit, your curious mind is still confused on how she has friends in the school, but you didn't feel like invading her privacy.

You always went to school 30 minutes earlier than most students, so this allowed Elisa to actually examine the building. She walked on your right, a meter away from you. You'd usually find the distance slightly rude, but now you're slightly glad about it. You felt embarrassed even glancing at Elisa, and you didn't understand why. You assumed it's because of the shame of assuming she's a boy at first glance, it was rude of you to think that way, girls can have short hair too!

“...So how do you have friends here?” You asked, trying to diffuse this tension inside you. Walking around the school cafeteria and pointing at the lunch tables, feeling like it doesn’t need an explanation.

“We play together at a football academy.” She responded, walking quicker than you can, probably from her height. “Do you know Fleur and Marie?”

“Yeah, they’re nice. I knew they loved football but I didn’t know they were at an academy.” You guessed that’s why they would sometimes not go to school together, probably to play in championships. 

After walking around the cafeteria to the small hallways, you stood there and labeled what each hallway is for, “so this one is for math, science, and statistics class. Our Algebra and biology classes will be there. This one is for language, French, Spanish and English classes will be there. This one is the arts hallway, there are only two classes that are used there, the other 3… students use them for other things.” You blushed at the thought of what they do there, you had always avoided that area and hoped Elisa would too. When you glanced at Elisa's face, there was a slight pink hue in her cheeks.

“Couldn’t the school lock them?” She mumbled, voice slightly hitched now from the awkwardness.

“I mean… they were never caught, and snitches get stitches so no one comments about them.” You shrugged, hoping this response would change the topic. You had always felt weird talking about the older students’ behavior in those rooms, but it felt extra weird around Elisa. You rolled her schedule in your hands as your thoughts started spiraling. Would Elisa go there with someone? A guy? No way. You glanced at Elisa's side profile as she was looking at the freshly cleaned boards placed around the hallways for posters. Elisa’s nose is prominent and sharp, her eyebrows naturally furrowing in thoughts. You wondered, if she has short hair and dresses like guys, does she like girls like them? There is no way she would be with a guy.

Your thoughts stopped when you realized she was looking at you, waiting for you to show her somewhere else. Opening your mouth but nothing coming out, you turned and walked to the school’s back exit. Elisa turned and followed you, keeping a safe distance between the both of you. But right when you pulled the door, Amy’s body came crashing into you.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You screeched in shock, both of your bodies stumbled backwards. Thankfully, Elisa was there to catch the both of you. A small giggle broke out from Amy, standing upright and grabbing her pink folder that fell out of her hands. When she looked up, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“New?” She knew about your ‘first day routine’, and since she couldn’t recognize Elisa she assumed she was right. Amy is a popular student in the same grade that all the guys are crazy over. Her body developed before any of the girls. And although you didn’t necessarily feel insecure about your body, you still felt a little sad at the feeling that she will always be the boys’ first choice. Not only is her waist and body flawless, but she also has a bright flirtatious smile, and blonde long hair that touches her ass every time she takes a step.

“Yeah,” Elisa quickly let go of your arm, taking a step away. Panic started rising in your chest, Amy was always a late student, coming to class 10 minutes late with the usual excuse of ‘traffic’. Why did she come early and interrupt me and Elisa? ���First time coming early?”

“Yeah I wanted a new version of me this new year. You know… since it’s the first year of high school.” Her eyes roamed around Elisa’s figure. Elisa was speechless, not knowing what else to do. She hoped her friends would’ve been here, because now she feels like she’s interrupting your conversation. But from the slightly uncomfortable glance both of you are giving each other, she knows you probably need her to save you.

“Umm… y/n can we please finish the tour so we don’t end up late for class.” Elisa stepped closer to you, her hand softly tugs on the sleeve of your hoodie. You were internally thanking God that she saved you from Amy, but the unexplainable blush around your face was growing when you saw Elisa’s large hand gripping your sleeve. You quickly glanced back at Amy, mumbling a quick ‘see ya’ and opening the door again to go to the football pitch.

As Elisa walked out, she quickly turned to look at Amy for one last time, not thinking it’s wrong for a quick last scan. She seemed sweet and her voice sounded buttery and smooth. She also was hot, that’s something Elisa wouldn’t hide. When she turned back to see you, she realized that you had caught her looking. In shock, she just walked straight past you on the sidewalk, hoping she’s going the right way.

Elisa knew that many people assumed immediately that she's a lesbian. Admittedly, she can't even argue against it. All she hopes is that people don't treat her differently for it. Now that you caught her looking, she didn't know if she was overreacting for panicking.

You on the other hand was caught off guard, you swore you saw her eyes glance at Amy's ass. Truthfully, you had glanced at Amy’s ass before. Everyone did. But it bothered you that Elisa glanced at it with a smirk on her face, the way the guys did. It's unbelievable how Amy was able to disrupt your tour with Elisa just by a few minutes.

You stride towards her, keeping a safe distance between the both of you. “That's the football pitch as you can see. That's where we have PE classes too. At lunch, you can either eat or play here. Most students usually eat for 15 minutes and then play the rest.” Your voice was quieter than usual. 

Elisa noticed the change in your demeanor, and she can't tell if it's because of Amy or her. She pretended to look around the pitch, but her mind was all over the place. She thought it would be good to know you and create new friends, but now she just wanted Fleur and Marie.

You pointed at the gates at the back of the pitch. There was a long metal fence that surrounded the school, it was made for school safety and so the students don't just leave whenever they feel like it. But there was a small walking trail from it, “the empty area behind the fence is the school's. We only use it for events. I don't know if your friends told you, but there will be a day where our class camps there.”

A giggle broke out from Elisa, followed by her biting her lip to stop. You glanced back to look at her confused, but she quickly looked away from you to the gate, mumbling a “sorry, they told me a funny joke about this.”

Blush bloomed into your cheeks. Of course you know what joke they made, that's what every person says about ‘Camp Out’. You glanced at the clock, realizing that it's 5 minutes before first class. As you were about to tell Elisa that, a screech was heard as well as bags thrown to the ground.

When you turned around to see what happened, you found Elisa being crushed by a hug from Fleur, their giggles loud and chaotic.

“Omg I can't believe you joined the school!” Although you've known Fleur for over 5 years, you've never seen her this happy. Awkwardly glancing between the both of them, you were unsure if you should leave them alone or say hi to Fleur.

“So much happened in Portugal I'll tell you later,” Elisa’s hands stayed on Fleur's waist. But when she turned her head to her right, she saw you slowly stepping away from them. “Oh, that's y/n, she helped me around.”

Elisa wasn't sure why she did this, of course you know Fleur. But seeing you awkwardly looking at them this way made her feel something unexplainable. She quickly removed her hands from Fleur and pointed at you.

“Oh yeah! She does this every year,” She waves at you kindly. She grabs Elisa's hand and starts pulling her towards the side benches. Quickly glancing at you, she says, “thanks for helping. She hates meeting new people so I hope she wasn't being a bitch.”

Elisa's face turned red in embarrassment, whispering ‘shut up’ to Fleur as she dragged her away from you.

Your body was filled in shame, feeling as if you interrupted a moment. The only time you felt that way was when you were talking to Amy and José…And they went to the ‘unused’ classroom afterwards.

Your body was frozen, zoning out as you looked at the both of them on the benches arguing,

“Hot new guy?” a sudden voice creeped up from behind you. Quickly identifying it as Sam, your best friend.

“What? No!” You turned to look at Sam in bafflement. Sam had a small smirk on her face, waiting for your explanation. But when you opened your mouth and nothing came out, she laughed.

“What? You looked like you saw Amy pull the new hot guy that you just had great chemistry with to the ‘ehm ehm’ room.”

“That was weirdly specific…” you accusingly looked at her.

“Eh. I just can read you very well.” You felt annoyed, who does she think she is? No, she's wrong. Elisa is not a hot guy, she's not even a guy in the first place.

“For your knowledge, you're wrong,” You rolled your eyes, walking back to the building for the first class. “It was Fleur.”

“Fleur stole the hot guy from you? Damn I didn't know she flirts.” Sam's jaw dropped to the ground, looking around to try and find Fleur. But her blonde hair blended in with every other blonde girl.

“No! The new student is a girl, and Fleur knows her. That's it. No hot guy, and no drama. Let's just go to class before it's too late.” You frustratingly grabbed her arm and pulled her inside the school building.

Sam had always liked teasing you to get you angry, but she had a feeling today isn't the day to joke with you. So she stayed silent and allowed you to drag her to your first class.

-

“Welcome back everyone!” The biology teacher squealed in excitement. You turned to look at the back of the class, checking if Fleur and Marie are there. Elisa was sitting with them, face twisted in anxiety, already aware of what Ms. Jeena would do.

“Since our school is small, it's rare to get a new student. Please treat Elisa kindly.” She pointed at the back of the class, all of the students turning to look at who is ‘new’. The class turned quiet for a few seconds, some murmurs arose around the ‘boys’ area of the class, and a low gasp from Sam. “Elisa, why don't you stand up and tell us…your age and hobbies.”

You felt bad for Elisa, this would make anyone uncomfortable, especially someone as different as her. Elisa nervously glanced at Marie and stood up, coughing and muttering, “I'm 14. I like football and… watching movies.”

Immediately, she sat down and covered her face with her hands. Fleur awkwardly patted her back to comfort her, holding a laugh at how awkward she was. Ms. Jeena noticed the awkward atmosphere around the class, so she decided to immediately start talking about a poster presentation that should review what the class studied the previous year. Your head was still turned to look at Elisa, her face red and eyes filled with discomfort.

Sam tapped you on the shoulder, making you glance away from the group. She got closer and whispered, “wow at least I'm not the only one who's gonna get hate crimed.”

You rolled your eyes, opening your notebook to write the criteria needed for the poster. Sam is an Indian student, and although there are some people of color in class, Indians were not one of them. So Sam gets a lot of rude comments, whether it's about her ‘skin’ or ‘smell’. Sam doesn't mind it, saying she went through worse in her older school. This allows her to make jokes about the racist encounters without feeling hurt.

“She's odd right?” She continued, glancing at her empty table, clearly not bringing anything since it's the first day of school. “How did she just… befriend them that quick?”

“Sam, stop talking about her!” You whisper-shouted at her, nudging your foot with hers. “They play at the same football academy.” You responded to her question, writing the date and following the teacher's instructions.

“Makes sense.”

“This year, I want to try something different with you guys. Every time I let you guys choose your partners, you always choose the same person.” She walked around the class, looking each of the students in the eyes, “I will choose your partner for this assignment.”

Sighing frustratingly, you closed your eyes and rested your head on your hands. You were on great terms with a lot of the students in your class, yet you didn't have the energy to talk to any of them.

The teacher opened her mouth to say something, but the way the class was booing and groaning forced her to stay quiet for a few seconds. “Okay guys! The names will be on the board right now so please stay quiet.”

You glanced at Sam with a disappointed face, feeling awful at how you both will be separated on the first day already. You waited as the teacher was writing the names, Sam already partnered with some girl at the front. But she still sat next to you, waiting to see who will be your partner.

The teacher had already written 8 pairs, which means that there is only one left, you and Elisa. You were sure Ms. Jeena did this because of your friendliness and wanted you to help her. Sam giggled when she realized, tapping your shoulder and whispering, “I feel bad, she looks like she's about to rage.”

Just as Sam stood up, Elisa dragged herself to your table, slowly pulling the chair and sitting on it. She nodded her head awkwardly towards you in acknowledgement as she fiddled her hands with each other on the table.

The teacher had handed out the A3 posters, saying the poster should explain photosynthesis. Thankfully, it was your favorite unit from last year, so you jotted all the information you remember as quickly as you can in your notebook.

Elisa sat there feeling awkward, looking at you scribbling nonsense in your book. She isn't stupid, but she can't remember anything that's 2 weeks ago, so she just sat there and waited until you told her what to do.

After you wrote what you can remember, you turned to look at Elisa. Her face was slightly pink, a fake smile on her face when she realized you looked away from your notes to glance at her.

“Umm…do you want to draw the cell, or write about it? What do you think you're good at?” You realized you've been rude towards her, she probably wanted to help you. “Sorry for not asking you in the beginning.”

Elisa felt embarrassed, she clearly can't remember anything about photosynthesis. She looked down at the large sheet in front of her, “oh no it's okay, I'll just draw the diagram…but I need a good reference, you know?”

You gave her a smile while avoiding her glance. You raised your hand to speak to the teacher. “Hey, can Elisa and I go to the library to look at pictures of the cell for a more accurate poster?”

The teacher nodded in your direction, trusting you to not do anything stupid. This is one of the perks of being a ‘good student’, they will trust you with anything. You turned to look at Elisa, standing up and grabbing your large colorful pencil case.

Elisa grabbed the poster and followed you. Her eyes glanced at her friends for one last second. When you reached the dark library, you pointed at the computer screens, sitting down on one of the chairs and smiling at Elisa, “I want you to draw a big leaf, and then a microscope zooming in with the thylakoid in it. Does that make sense?” Elisa nodded in understanding, pulling colors from your pencil case to start. “I'll write the information on the side.”

As the both of you worked, silence filled the library. The small Golden light bulbs created a sleepy atmosphere, making your body calm and tired. You finished writing quickly, now resting your head on the table to wait for Elisa to finish her part. You turned your head to glance at her, looking at her features while she was working. From this angle, you realized that she still had feminine features in her face, it's just her hair and flat chest that makes her look ‘manly’. (though you never really cared about anyone's chest… we're all kids and it doesn't matter!)

Your face flushed when you looked up to see her looking at you, your eyes diverting to the paper to see if she's done. Elisa had felt your eyes on her, you were resting your head close to her body and she could clearly see you. Her body was mildly sweaty from the whole chaos that happened in class, and she thought making this poster alone with you would help her calm down.

But when she looked at you, she realized your eyes were glancing at her body… her chest. She didn't know what to make sense of this, were you looking at her to mock her? Or were you checking her out just like how she looks at other women? It's obvious that it's the first question, because no one has ever looked at her with a romantic glance. She has accepted that the day she'll find the one is far, now she’s too young to worry about her depressing love life. 

From the insulting whispers in class, anger bubbled up in her. You'll be just like them, mocking her for doing what she wants. Why would she expect something else? At the end of the day, you're popular. And anyone who's popular is a bitch.

You lifted your head from the table, glancing at the computer screen to avoid looking at her eyes again. She caught you looking at her body, and that's embarrassing. Usually when a girl catches you looking, you joke out a compliment. But when it came to elisa, your tongue got stuck, and all you were able to do is just look away.

“I'm done.” Elisa stood up, her chair screeching loudly making you flinch. Her hand grabbed the poster and walked away, leaving you alone in your seat. You stood up and logged out of the computer, running to catch up with her.

“Thanks for working, I could've helped in coloring.” You whispered. You can tell that the atmosphere turned awkward, her eyebrows furrowed and clearly thinking about something else. 

She didn't want to speak to you. In fact, she didn't want to speak to anyone, even Marie and Fleur. She just wanted to go home and probably watch a match to distract herself from whatever is happening in this school. She can't believe she's already feeling this way and it's the first class, she wondered how shit her other classes would be.

When she reached the class, she gave the poster to the teacher and sat back in her old seat since it was empty anyways. Sam noticed your distracted gaze, waving her hand to gain your attention. The feeling of shame returned to you, there is no way Elisa is angry at you for a glance, we're all girls and it's okay, right?

Maybe something happened, maybe she remembered something that hurt her. Maybe she's not actually annoyed at you and she probably had something else that bothered her. Or maybe you’re overreacting and she probably was acting normal.

The rest of the day went smoothly, the teacher allowed the students to talk to their friends since it's your first day. Sam had asked you about what happened with Elisa in the library. Your response was simple, “she was tired and annoyed at how the boys were talking about her. She didn't even glance at me.”

Sam nodded, feeling bad for Elisa. For the rest of the day, Elisa just slept in class. Suddenly, her trip to Portugal didn't matter, she felt emotionally exhausted and drained. Fleur and Marie felt guilty, knowing that a part of Élisa's sadness is from them. They're the ones who begged her to join their school.

Now the day is over and you're walking home. Sam goes with her dad, her house is too far for her to just walk. As you put your headphones on, you noticed Elisa walking the same way as you. Her strides were larger, obviously trying to escape school as fast as possible. Now that you know Elisa lives close to you, it makes everything worse.

-

It's Wednesday, the day your class has PE. The school has given you a uniform and a locker room to change. There is a habit that all girls change in the same area, since the room only has lockers and no private cubicles to change. But ever since you were a kid, you always took your clothes and changed in the bathrooms privately, because looking at naked women around you made you feel uncomfortable, and you always valued your ‘modesty’.

So you went to the lockers to grab your PE uniform and stepped in the girls’ bathroom. When you got in, you saw Elisa already dressed in her uniform, her hands playing around with her silky hair in front of the mirror. When she looked at your reflection in the mirror, she rolled her eyes, grabbed her things, and left you with no words. You looked at your blue uniform in your hands and sighed, feeling like your day has just been ruined.

After long minutes of changing, you went back to the locker room to place your clothes back in your locker. You noticed Amy lifting her hair in a high ponytail, light makeup on her face. She caught you looking and stepped closer to you, signaling with her hand for you to come closer to her. When you did, she whispered, “did you see Elisa in the bathrooms?”

You frowned in confusion, “yeah, why?”

She bit her lip and looked around, “people are saying she’s a lesbian…that’s why she was too scared to dress with us.”

When she saw the confused look never left your face, she gave you a disappointed glance. “Wait… what is a ‘lesbian’?”

She mockingly laughed, “are you serious?” When she realized you weren’t joking, she covered her face and sighed. “It means when a girl only likes girls…like guys.”

Realization hits you. Is she? There is a name for it? You had felt weird with Elisa, and you had suspected that she likes girls the way boys do. But you never knew there was a name for it, and that could possibly mean there is a whole community that way.

“Why? I dress alone in the bathroom, that doesn’t make me a lesbian.”

“y/n be serious! You’re… you. And Elisa… you know, she dresses differently. I am not disgusted by her, I’m just telling you what I think about her.”

You didn’t know what else to say, so you awkwardly nodded and walked distractingly. 

Throughout the whole PE class, Elisa dominated the girls. While Paul dominated the guys. You were impressed at her speed, humbling everyone although Katoto was very close. The trio (Elisa, Katoto, and Fleur) were distanced from the rest of the girls, only joining when the coach tells them to.

After the session, you took your clothes and went immediately to the bathrooms to change back. You can hear her shuffling in the cubicle next to you, and the idea of Elisa being naked right next to you somehow made you panic.

Elisa knew she had to get used to naked women, especially if she wanted to become a professional football player. Her academy teammates lightly tease her. But thankfully, they are very open about her being gay. In fact, there were around 2 girls that had come out in her team. She complained to Fleur and Katoto about what happened in the library. Katoto called Elisa ‘dramatic’ and that you were probably just zoning out and thinking about something else, while Fleur laughed and told her that you never meant to harm her. But when she saw you in the bathroom, she got annoyed. Because why are you following her? Is this your way of teasing her?

Since PE is the last class of the day, the walk home was sweaty and exhausting. What Amy told you still ran through your head. You never thought about Elisa’s love life, except when you caught her staring at Amy ‘weird’ on the first day. But now that you think about it, there is no way Elisa ‘likes’ men, you can’t even imagine her flirting with one. But the idea of her flirting with women seemed possible, and even when it gave you a weird feeling, it seemed more sense that way.

When you went home, you locked your room and turned on your laptop, searching on Google a simple question, "qu'est-ce qu'une lesbienne?” (what is a lesbian?)

Your whole screen was filled with articles, pressing the first one, an article from Quora.

What is a lesbian? Hey guys, I have a simple question. A co-worker of mine told us today that she was a lesbian and even when i knew what it was briefly i still felt uneducated and embarrassed. Can someone please tell me what it is so I don’t hurt her tomorrow at work?

You’re overthinking it. A lesbian is just a woman attracted to other women. They don’t feel anything for men. That’s it. If you don’t want to ‘hurt’ her or ‘disrespect’ her, just don’t treat her differently and please don’t ask her about guys or even girls unless she opens up to it. It also gets annoying when girls think we are in love with them just because we like women. Thanks for trying to be respectful tho.

You stared at your screen for a minute, until you decided to ask a question. Thankfully, your Quora username is not your real name, you replied to the answer, 

‘Hey, a new classmate from my school joined and many people think she is a lesbian because she has short hair and always dresses like a tomboy. Is there a ‘signature’ look of lesbians or they can look like anything?’

You slapped your mouth, not believing you just posted this. You tried to distract yourself by doing your homework, until a small ding came from your laptop. You froze and stared at your screen for a second, before hopping and looking at the response.

‘LOL! You sound like a child so I hope you are a kid, it’s rude to assume anyone’s sexuality. And no, there is no ‘signature’ gay look. Yes, a lot of us prefer to dress tomboy. But there are a lot of feminine girls that also like women.’

You liked the response and closed the tab, you stared at the screen, a single question running through your mind. You quickly opened a new tab, typing ‘Is same-sex marriage allowed?’

No, Same-sex marriage is illegal in France.

You exhaled in disappointment, closing the computer screen and opting to take a nap instead of thinking about this. But what did Amy mean by ‘You’re you’?... Do they also think that way about me? No way, I dress like a girl. But the Quora response caught you off guard, can someone like both women and men? You twisted in bed and sighed in frustration. You can see the black square screen of your PC. You groaned and stood up again, ‘can someone like both sexes?’

Someone who likes both sexes is referred to as Bisexuals.

You closed the tab and went back to bed. You weren’t sure why you even searched that question, but you blamed it on curiosity. You are straight, you knew this because you never ‘romantically’ liked a girl, and now that Elisa is rumored to like women, you wanted to know more about Elisa, not you… you already know who you are, even when you didn’t understand what Amy meant by that comment.

-

~ same-sex marriage became legal on the 17th of May 2013, while this is based on September 2012.

~ in France, students in their first year of high school are supposed to be 15-16. I changed their age because I wanted this to happen before same-sex marriage was legalized.

[gooseprotocol]

Spice Girls interviewed by Kathy Acker in 1997 for the Guardian Weekend edition.

All Girls Together by Kathy Acker

The Spice Girls are the biggest, brashest girlie group ever to have hit the British mainstream. Kathy Acker is an avant-garde American writer and academic. They met up in New York to swap notes – on boys, girls, politics. And what they really, really want.

Fifty-second street. West Side, New York City. Hell’s Kitchen – one of those areas into which no one would once have walked unless loaded. Guns or drugs or both. But now it has been gentrified: the beautiful people have won. A man in middle-aged-rocker uniform, tight black jeans and nondescript T-shirt, lets Nigel, the photographer, and me through the studio doorway then a chipmunk-sort-of-guy in shorts, with a Buddha tattooed on one of his arms, greets us warmly. This is Muff, the band’s publicity officer. We’re about to meet the Girls … They are here to rehearse for an appearance on Saturday Night Live. Not only is this their first live TV performance, it’s also the first time they’ll be playing with what Mel C calls a “real band”. If the Girls are to have any longevity in the music industry, they will have to break into the American market and for this they will need the American media. Both the Girls and their record company believe that their appearance here tonight might do the trick.

There is a refusal among America’s music critics to take the Spice Girls seriously. The Rolling Stone review of Spice, their first album, refers to them as “attractive young things ... brought together by a manager with a marketing concept”. The main complaint, or explanation for disregard, is that they are a “manufactured band”. What can this mean in a society of McDonald’s, Coca-Cola and En Vogue? However, an email from a Spice fan mentions that, even though he loves the girls, he detects a “couple of stereotypes surrounding women in the band’s general image. The brunette is the woman every man wants to date. Perfect for an adventure on a midnight train, or to hire as your mistress-secretary. The blonde is the woman you take home to mother, whereas the redhead is the wild woman, the woman-with-lots-of-evil-powers.” So who are these Girls? And how political is their notorious “Girl Power”? Even though I have seen many of their videos and photos, as soon as I’m in front of these women, I am struck by how they look far more remarkable than I had expected, even though Mel C is trying not to look as lovely as she is. I had intended to say something else, but instead I find myself asking them: “If paradise existed, what would it look like?” Geri speaks first, and she is, I think, reprimanding me for being idealistic. “Money makes the world what it is today,” she says, almost before I have time to think about my sudden outburst, “a world infested with evil. All sorts of wars are going on at the moment. Everyone’s kind of bickering, wanting to better themselves because their next-door neighbour’s got a better lawn. That kind of thing.” “Greed,” Victoria adds. Mel C: “Instead of trying to be better than someone else, you have to try to better yourself.” In a few minutes, they are explaining to me that the Spice Girls is a type of paradise, Spice Girls is a lifestyle. “It’s community.” That’s Geri again. She and Mel B – one in a funky, antique Hawaiian shirt, the other in diaphanous yellow bell-bottoms and top – do most of the talking. Mel C, in her gym clothes, is the quietest. Geri: “We’re a community in which each one of us shines individually, without making any of the others feel insecure. We liberate each other. A community should be liberating. Nelson Mandela said that you know when someone is brilliant when having that person next to you makes you feel good.”

‘The Spicey life vibey thing’ ... The Spice Girls film the Euro 96 theme song video. Photograph: Dave Hogan/Getty Images

“Not envious,” adds her cohort, Mel B. These are the two baddest Girls. At least on the surface. I suspect otherwise. “It inspires you.” Geri again. “That is what life’s about. People should be inspiring.” I can’t keep up with these Girls. My generation, spoon-fed Marx and Hegel, thought we could change the world by altering what was out there – the political and economic configurations, all that seemed to make history. Emotions and personal – especially sexual – relationships were for girls, because girls were unimportant. Feminism changed this landscape in England, the advent of Margaret Thatcher, sad to say, changed it more. The individual self became more important than the world. To my generation, this signals the rise of selfishness for the generation of the Spice Girls, self-consideration and self-analysis are political. When the Spices say, “We’re five completely separate people,” they’re talking politically. “Like when you’re in a relationship,” Mel B takes over, “and you’re in love, you feel you’re only you when you’re with that person, so when you leave that person, you think ‘I’m not me’. That’s so wrong. It’s downhill from then on, in yourself spiritually and in your whole environment. In this band, it’s different. Each of us is just the way we are, and each of us respects that.”

“As Melanie says,” adds Geri, “each of us wants to be her own person and, without snatching anyone else’s energy, bring something creative and new and individual to the group. We’re proof this is happening. When the Spice Girls first started as a unit, we respected the qualities we found in each other that we didn’t have in ourselves. It was like, ‘Wow! That’s the Spicey life vibey thing, isn’t it?’”

Geri turns even more paradoxical: “Normally, when you get fans of groups, they want to act like you, they copy what you’re wearing, for instance. Whereas our fans, they might have pigtails and they might wear sweatclothes, but they are so individual, it’s unbelievable. When you speak to them, they’ve got so much balls! It’s like we’ve collected a whole group of our people together! It’s really, really mad. I can remember someone coming up to us and going, ‘Do you know what? I’ve just finished with my boyfriend! And you’ve given me the incentive to go ‘Fuck this!’” At this, the Spices cheer. Giving up any hope of narrative continuity, I ask the girls if they want boys. “Some of us are in relationships.” Mel B. “I live with my boyfriend. For three years now, yeah.” I tell them that I’ve never been good at balancing sexual love and work. “Of course you can. It doesn’t make me a lesser person to be in a relationship makes me a better person. Because I can still go out and . . . flirting is natural.” I’m listening to Mel B, but all I can think, at the moment, is how beautiful she is. “I can stay out all night and come in when I want. Your whole life doesn’t have to change just because you’re with somebody else.”

What man could handle all this? ... The Spice Girls at the 1997 Cannes film festival. Photograph: Bertrand Guay/AFP/Getty Images

“It depends on the individual,” says Geri. “I think whoever we would chose to be with should respect the way we are... and our job as well...” Mel B. “The way we are together. None of us would be interested in a man that wanted to dominate, wanted to pull you down, and wanted you to do what he wanted you to do.” I wonder what man could handle all this.

“If one of us was to go out with a dweeb of a man,” says Mel B, “he would probably feel threatened by the five of us. Because we do share things about our relationships, so it’s like a gang. Like a gang, but we’re not. We can have relationships, but they have to be on a completely different level.” Emma talks only about her mother, and Mel C is very quiet. What hides, I wonder, behind that face, which appears more delicate and intense than in her photos? Victoria, I learn later, is upset about an ex-boyfriend’s betrayal of her confidence – throughout our discussion she looks slightly upset. Several times she says that, above all, she wants privacy. Perhaps paradise is not as simple as it seems. I know that, to find out more about these Girls, I must change the subject, but instead, I just blurt out: “Let’s stop talking about boys!” “Yeah,” agree the Girls.

Do they think the Spice Girls will go on forever? And if not, what will they do after it ends? What do you really want to do? “We talked about that the other day, didn’t we?” Geri, sitting on the floor, turns around to the three girls sprawled on a black sofa. Emma, in a white from-the-Sixties dress, perches on a high chair. Their hair has been done, their faces powdered, and they’re ready for the photo.

Spice Girls: Say You’ll Be There - video

“I want to own restaurants,” Victoria takes the lead. She wears a skin-tight designer outfit, perfectly positioned Wonderbra and heels seemingly too high to walk on. Unlike the other girls, she never lets her mask break open.

“The entrepreneur,” remarks Mel B fondly. “Restaurants and art,” Victoria continues. “I’ve always liked art. Ever since I was...” She pauses. “And I’d like a nice big house, and to fill it with, you know...” “Sculptures!” Mel B. “Nude men.” That’s Mel C. All the girls are laughing. Victoria admits – and her emotions finally start to show – that’s she’s always fancied doing art. A few years ago, she and Geri were going to return to college, but they didn’t have the time. Now the others are teasing her about her shoes. I like these girls. I like being with them. “I don’t know what I want to do.” Mel C. The Spices who haven’t yet said anything are now talking. “At the moment I am completely into what I’m doing, and I find it hard to think, right now, what I want to do later on.” Mel B. “I want a big family, like the Waltons,” Emma admits. “I like taking care of people, I love kids.”

“You can look after mine.” Mel C.

Everyone’s saying something. Victoria wants to live with her sister, and maybe her brother Emma’s thinking of her mother. I’m beginning to realise how different from each other the Girls are. Mel C says she likes living alone, but wishes she were geographically closer to her family.

“Me and Geri,” pipes up Mel B, who’s rarely silent for more than a minute, “come from up north. It’s like living in a little community, isn’t it? And moving down into London, it’s like moving into the big wild world. I don’t even know my next-door neighbour, do you?”

“No,” answers Mel C. I like these girls. They’re home girls. “I’d be in a cult, or join a naturist camp or something, and just live there, like back in the Sixties in the hippy days,” Mel B is gesticulating, “where everything’s just One Love, everything’s free, and there are no set rules, where nobody judges you...” Geri tells me that she is a jack-of-all-trades. After speculating whether she might do her own TV show, or go into films, write a movie script, she announces that her model is Sylvester Stallone.

I think of Brigitte Nielsen. “I’ll tell you why.” He couldn’t get a part in Hollywood, she explains, so he wrote, directed and produced Rambo himself. “I just think that’s what it takes I always love it when the underdog comes through.”

The Girls have been in showbusiness for years. Emma started when she was three. All of the others were professional by the age of 17 or 18. I’m beginning to understand why these Girls have been picked, consciously or unconsciously, by their generation to represent that generation. Especially, but not only, the female sector. In a society still dominated by class and sexism, very few of those not born to rule, women especially, are able to make choices about their own work and lifestyle. Very few know freedom. None of the Spices, not even Victoria, was born privileged nor, as they themselves note, are they traditional beauties. Christine, a student of mine, watching them on Saturday Night Live, remarked to me: “They’re not even slick dancers or exceptional singers! They’re just the girl-next-door!”

And they are they’re just girls as more than one of them remarked to me, “We never really had a chance until this happened!” They’re the girls never heard from before this in England look, there are lots of them ones who’ve known Thatcherite, post-Thatcherite society and nothing else, and now, thanks to the glory and the strangeness of British rock-pop society, they’ve found a voice. Listen to the voices of those who didn’t go to Oxford or Cambridge, or even to Sussex or to art school...

Geri: “I didn’t really know that much, you know, history, but I knew about the suffragettes. They fought. It wasn’t that long ago. They died to get a vote. The women’s vote. Bloody ass-fucking mad, do you know what I mean? You remember that and you think, fucking hell. But to get back to what Victoria was saying about us, that we never got anywhere, you know, the underdog thing. This is why I feel so passionate. We’ve been told, time and time again, you’re not pretty enough, you’re too fat, you’re too thin...” All the Spice Girls are now roaring. “...You’re not tall enough, you’re not white, you’re not black. What I passionately feel is that it is so wrong to have to fit into a role or a mould in order to succeed. What I think is fan-fucking-tastic about us now is that we are not perfect and we have made a big success of ourselves. I’m swelling with pride.” But you are babes. They all protest. “We were all individually beaten down... Collectively, we’ve got something going,” says Geri. “Individually, I don’t think we’d be that great.”

“There’s a chemistry that runs through us and gives us... where I’m bad at something, Melanie’s good, or Geri’s good at something at which the rest of us are bad,” says Victoria. Look, I say, I’m feeling stranger and stranger about these politics based on individualism. There are lots of girls who have the same backgrounds as they do, right? “Right.”

So what is holding those girls down? Keeping them from doing what they really want to do? They start to discuss this. I can hardly make out who’s saying what in the ensuing commotion. I hear “society and conditioning”; another one, Emma perhaps, is talking about being in showbiz, receiving job rejection after job rejection she’s saying how strong you have to be to keep bouncing back. Geri mentions Freud, then states that parents’ beliefs often hold back a child, parents and then the child’s reception in her school. “When you go and see a careers officer,” ponders Mel C, “and you sit down and say, ‘I want to be a spaceman’, instead of responding ‘Go study astrophysics’, they go, ‘Yeah, but what do you really want to do?’ That is so wrong. I think there should be a class in – what do you call it? – self-motivation. Self-motivation classes, self-esteem classes.”

I still feel that a bit of economic realism is missing here, but I can’t get a word in edgewise. Not in all the girl excitement. These females are angry.

“I think it all goes back to everyone wanting to feel that they’re part of an ongoing society,” Geri tries to analyse. “The humdrum nine-to-five, you know what it’s like... What do you do when you leave school? You go and get a job to have money to pay off the mortgage, you get a flat and have a nice boyfriend, pay off your bills, you go to work with your briefcase and your suit, and that’s it. That’s people’s normal, everyday thing, isn’t it? And if you branch out from that, it’s... well, ‘What does she think she’s doing?’ It’s going against the grain a bit – which not many people do. It’s not even going against the grain it’s just clinging on to the bit you want to do and thinking I’m going to do it, who cares?” The Girls, including Geri, tell me that they’ve got an American philosophy, an American dream. “But me,” says Mel B, “before I was in the band, I thought I’d like to be a preacher. I still do. Something like that. They’ve actually got this place in London which is called Speaker’s Corner. You get up on your stand there you can speak about anything. I’d like to speak about people, the emotional or mental blocks people have, especially regarding other people, things like that. That’s what the tattoo on my stomach means, ‘Spirit, Heart and Mind’, because that’s what fuels me – communication fuels me. You learn about yourself, about other people and life in general, through communication.” She says that’s she’s been writing since she was 11, writing everything down, “why the world is this shape, what would happen if everyone on earth died...”

“Stoned questions...” murmurs another Spice. “I’d love to go back to the Sixties,” Emma says in her clear voice. “I’d love that. I wouldn’t wear headbands though.” What about some of the politics of the Sixties, I ask. Malcolm X? The fight against racism? “The other day I watched The Killing Fields.” Now Geri’s doing the talking. “That was in the Sixties, Vietnam. I think it’s very healthy that there’s an element of that today. Through the media today we can see people demonstrating for human rights. In Cambodia, on the other side of the world. I think it’s brilliant when you see people standing up, when they have a voice, it kicks the system, a little bit, into touch.”

Spice Girls: Spice up Your Life - video

But what about in England today? I mention that in the US, racism is still a big issue.

Mel B and Geri start talking about racism. Geri tells me that she’s learned about racial prejudice from Mel B, who says, “The thing I find really bizarre about America and England ... You say that the racism thing is worse in America, yet if you look at television here [in NYC], they’re really scrupulous about making sure, for instance, that they have a black family in an advert. On the adverts in England, you wouldn’t find that.” Suddenly all the Spices are talking among themselves. I can’t understand anything. Then we’re on the subject of Madonna, of people who have inspired us, and Geri starts speaking about Margaret Thatcher. Why she admires her. “But we won’t go down there!” “Don’t go down there!” advise the Girls.

“We won’t go down there, but...” and Geri, who never seems to listen to reason, begins. She says that when politicians discuss the economy, they’re just talking about shifting money from one spot to another, and someone always suffers. This is the same distrust of government that so many Americans, both on the right and left – and especially among lower and working-class people – are feeling and articulating.

Mel C says softly, “We talked about suffragettes and getting the vote to women, and all that. But a lot of women don’t vote a lot of our generation doesn’t vote. I don’t. I don’t feel I should because I don’t know anything about politics ...”

“That was what I was going to say,” adds Emma. They blame the lack of political education in schools. Whether they like or dislike Margaret Thatcher or Tony Blair, they distrust both the political industry and the related media. “Intellectual people chatting in bathrooms,” comments Mel B. “We are society,” exclaims Geri, “so really ...”

“... We should be running it,” Mel B finishes the statement.

“I’d like to run it for a day,” says Victoria, looking directly at me.

“But Victoria, who’s going to let you do such a job?” Geri reminds her. “The only way to go is growth,” says Mel B. “I think everyone’s turned a bit to the spiritual life.”

“You know,” interjects Victoria, “if you believe in evolution, we only use 20% of our brain ... if that. So it’s natural that we can evolve to the next level. We’ve got to, really.”

“Nowadays, people do sit down and ask themselves ‘Why am I doing this?’” Mel B continues. “They question themselves and what they’ve got around them. I know I do it, and you find your own little mission. And you fucking go for it. A lot more people are like that now.” Do they all feel like that? There’s a general quiet, then a “Yeah” all around me. I ask the Spices to describe themselves. For a moment, they’re lost for words. Victoria: “I love what I’m doing. I’m with my five best friends, and I’ve seen some great countries. I’m happy, I’m very happy. I care a lot about my family. Regarding my personality, I’m private. There are things for me to know and no one else to find out.” She hesitates. “I just accept the way I am. You have to make the most of it, make the best of yourself. I’m a bit of a fretter. If I’m going to do something, I want to do it properly. I want to do the best I can. I’m a perfectionist.”

Emma: “Me, I’m definitely a bit of a brat. I worry about what other people are feeling, that sort of thing.”

Geri: “I have quite an active mind. Quite eccentric, really. A conversationalist. I believe in fate in a big way, a very big way.” Mel B: “I’m always asking inward questions about things. I live off the vibes, I do, that people give me. If I don’t like someone then I won’t speak to them, even though something might be coming out of their mouth that I should listen to. I like to think I’m a bit of a free spirit. I don’t run by any rule book. I live on the edge a little bit. I always think, well, at least I’ll die happy today rather than worrying about it tomorrow.”

Mel C: “I’m very regimented. I really enjoy my own company, although I love being with other people.”

I’m watching the Spice Girls perform Wannabe on Saturday Night Live, but not seeing them. In my mind, I’m seeing England. When I returned there in July last year, lad culture was in full swing. Loaded was running what had once been a relatively intellectual magazine culture. Feminism, especially female intellectuals, had become extinct. “Where have all the women gone to?” I asked. Then came a twist named the Spice Girls. The Spices, though they deny it, are babes – the blonde, the redhead, the dark sultry fashion model – and they’re more. They both are and represent a voice that has too long been repressed. The voices, not really the voice, of young women and, just as important, of women not from the educated classes. It isn’t only the lads sitting behind babe culture, bless them, who think that babes or beautiful lower and lower-middle class girls are dumb. It’s also educated women who look down on girls like the Spice Girls, who think that because, for instance, girls like the Spice Girls take their clothes off, there can’t be anything “up there”.

The Spice Girls are having their cake and eating it. They have the popularity and the popular ear that an intellectual, certainly a female intellectual, almost never has in this society, and, what’s more, they have found themselves, perhaps by fluke, in the position of social and political articulation. It little matters now how the Spice Girls started – if they were a “manufactured band”.

What does this have to do with feminism? When I lived in England in the Eighties, a multitude of women, diverse and all intellectual, were continually heard from – people such as Michele Roberts, Jeanette Winterson, Sara Maitland, Jacqueline Rose, Melissa Benn. Is it also possible that the English feminism of the Eighties might have shared certain problems with the American feminism of the Seventies? English feminism, as I remember it back then, was anti-sex. And like their American counterparts, the English feminists were intellectuals, from the educated classes. There lurked the problem of elitism, and thus class.

I am speculating, but, perhaps due to Margaret Thatcher – though it is hard to attribute anything decent to her – a populist change has taken place in England. The Spice Girls, and girls like them, and the girls who like them, resemble their American counterparts in two ways: they are sexually curious, certainly pro-sex, and they do not feel that they are stupid or that they should not be heard because they did not attend the right universities. If any of this speculation is valid, then it is up to feminism to grow, to take on what the Spice Girls, and women like them, are saying, and to do what feminism has always done in England, to keep on transforming society as society is best transformed, with lightness and in joy.

[kaeyachi]

Hello it is I, the local trans girl kaeya truther <3 anyways I need to hear ur thoughts on mtf/transfem genderqueer kaeya bc u mentioned it on ur recent post and it got me EXCITEDDD

OH BOY I HAVE A LOT OF HCs. mtf, ftm, or genderfluid Kaeya stays on my mind rent free at the penthouse luxury unit with allowances, free wifi, and breakfast buffet.

For now, let's focus with mtf Kaeya!

- Kaeya/Gaia(jp) liking her birth name because it's commonly feminine (it's how I personally feel IRL with having a masc name despite being afab, so I'd like Kaeya to feel the joy and comfort it brings me hehe). If her parents did 1 thing right, it's naming her.

- Kaeya being proud of her chest since it has grown (thru workout for now), leading to the uniform choice. She didn't fully understand why she felt happy about it for a while.

- Same with the corset! She feels better looking at the mirror with the corset on.

- Kaeya feeling comfortable hanging out with the girlies because of having similar interests. It was probably hard to notice when younger because both Jean and Diluc wanted to be knights, and she simply followed them.

- I like the idea of Kaeya figuring out a bit later in life. Being distracted with more pressing issues made it a bit harder to come to terms with how she feels tbh. It was a slow journey, but she got there, and it felt amazing once she realized.

- I want Jean to know first!! Jean would give Kaeya so many hugs and affirmations!! Jean gets another sister (when Barbara found out, she felt the same as Jean)

-re: new skin. Kaeya, still feeling a bit confused and lost when she looks at a mirror, decides to let her full head of hair grow longer instead of just keeping a lovelock. She knows she doesn't need long hair to be more fem, but it makes her feel more secure about her identity.

- Sumeru visits aren't just for wine trade negotiations and learning more about her ancestry. She also went there to ask questions about transitioning

- Kaeya scaring Diluc into thinking she has a terminal illness before telling the redhead the truth lmao. Diluc is glad Kaeya isn't dying and is proud of Kaeya (willing to fund the costs of transition), but he really wants to strangle her first...

- When younger, Adelinde found Kaeya trying on her clothes. Young Kaeya was so mortified at being found that she didn't dare try again despite Adelinde saying it was fine and that she's willing to help her try out more. It took more than a decade before adult Kaeya went to her to accept her offer to help. Adelinde finally gains a daughter she can dress up

- Kaeya finally joining in with the girlies when they have makeover parties and girls night outs! It's the best fun she has ever had and she wants more!!

- the male knights became a bit protective at first when they were told (especially since their captain frequents the bar, and even prior to saying she is mtf, she already had a fair share of admirers and creeps there) until Kaeya reminded them that she can still kick all of their asses in training (and she did kick their asses)

- the female knights feel like they won something. The top 2 people in power right now while Varka is away are women. Technically, only Albedo is the male captain within Mond (technically hehe) (Nation leaders meeting and its all women)

- Alice finding out and offering to help Kaeya to transition!! Albedo, Sucrose, and Lisa are studying more about it to help out as well instead of having Kaeya frequently visit Sumeru

- Klee calling Kaeya "big sis"!! And when playing, Kaeya is now the queen while Klee is her princess

- The abyss order finding out and are unphased, but this is duly noted and they will respect it

I just want mtf Kaeya to be loved by his friends and family!!!

[dirtyvulture]

😎 I have a bunch of things to get off my chest . I am sooo pissed at work . The person who bought my work place has completely fucked us over , they are constantly cutting our days and hours on the work schedule!!!!!! I am a part time worker , typically I work ( or SUPPOSED to) a couple of days a week and four hour shifts and today I went to check on the schedule and I am scheduled one day for 3 ish hours!!!!!! I am just done , I was a loyal and hard worker ….. now I am going out and looking for a new job.

On the upside I had a really good time on Mother’s Day . I went with my parents to my grandmas and then had a second celebration with my granny and her husband ( she remarried 3 years back , I typically call him by his name but don’t want to say it here) . I spent the night and Granny and I went on a little shopping trip to get a new dress and shoes for my nephew’s baptism. The baptism is at the end of June and we have a family cookout the day before, since my new shoes are open toes…. I figured that my grandma ( granny will be out of town with her husband) , mom and I would have a girls day and do our finger and toes nails…. have lunch . Make a whole day of it . I am NOT a girly girl , I am very much a tomboy so I don’t TYPICALLY dress up or do hair and makeup ( I HATE doing nail polish and things like that) but I will do so on SPECIAL OCCASIONS . What occasion is more special than my nephew being baptized ( I am also the godmother after all 😉) .

Because Mother’s Day was this month and I hope that everyone had a good holiday/ celebration. I will now be driving into some thoughts in the : SB , DK and EV universes .

In the SB universe ( and in the same vain of Mother’s Day thoughts) . Remember when I talked about how Nat might have been injured on duty in the military leaving her with the rank she has now but unable to get pregnant and have biological children. Well I believe that she and SB do foster a couple of kids …. Young siblings in fact. A boy( he is the oldest, five ) and a girl ( two years old) named Kit and Jane. Kit doesn’t like and is very scared of men ( remember SB is AMF ) , and so is scared and very weary of SB….. Kit doesn’t like SB being around his baby sister …. He puts on a very brave face and is very protective of Jane . Jane on the other hand LOVES SB ( to her they are a big old teddy bear that gives the BEST hugs ) and both siblings loves Nat .

In the DK universe the kids of the school 1000% percent all chipped their resources into a nice celebration for all the female staff at the school ( R is the main focus, Jean , Storm and even Nat are also prominent figures for Mother’s Day as well) . I don’t know exactly what they would do but the older kids have the biggest hand in planning it ( Rouge , Peter, Kitty, etc) and it’s a very nice and touching celebration.

Lastly in the EV universe….. I don’t know about any mother or motherly figures for that R , I believe that we only really know about her dad . But what about Melina and her daughters ? Do they have a good relationship in this universe and what type of things would Nat and Yelena to celebrate their mother.

That is all for now , hope everyone is doing well and hopefully I can come here with better energy and moods ( and hopefully a new job) . Wish me luck on the hunt for this new adventure. I wish everyone luck with any adventures of their own <3 .

Sorry for my delay with answering this 😭

I am sorry to hear about your issues at work, but I am glad that you have moved on and found a new one. :)

And that sounds like a fun Mother's day! I already can't remember what I did for mine lol.

That would be so cute if the Sergeant couple adopted some kids! I think they would make great parents (after much learning).

And yes! I bet all the students at the mansion would be willing to go all out to celebrate R (and I guess the other mother figures too lol). They would probably do all the cooking and cleaning for the day, and make R come out and play sports games with them. :)

We'll see more about the families of R and Nat in the EV universe. :) I will tell you now that R's mother is no longer in the picture (she passed away years ago...which also might explain why R has...mommy issues). I still haven't decided what to do with Melina yet, though.

Thanks, 😎 anon! Good luck with your new job!

[mithliya]

Your anon who said about her LGB friends looking back at when they were kids, and they dressed gnc so their parents knew - I'm wondering whether a factor of that is more to do with fashion for kids has changed.

I grew up in the 90's/2000's and most of my clothes were gnc (only really party clothes weren't). This was normal. If you go further back still to my parents era, this applied even more. We talk about it all the time how 13 year olds now look older and dress older than I ever did. Look at what they've put young celebrities in (eg stranger things cast) compared to young celebrities 20, 30, 50 years ago! Especially with young girls - the hyper sexualisation has gone off the walls. Overalls, sweat pants, jeans have all been replaced by clothing that makes them look twice their age. There was a new Kpop group that debuted recently. The youngest member was 16, and she looked older than me and I'm in my late twenties.

Sure I had friends growing up who were 'super girly' but mostly we all ran around in comfy clothes to roll in the mud in.

hm i agree its even more sexualised now but i disagree that overall young celebrities werent sexualised back then.

brooke shields in the late 1970s:

she was between like 10 and 15 in these pics. i havent shared the worst of it bc u get the idea with these.

natalie portman at 12-13:

u can look up the films leon the professional where she was further sexualised bc i dont wanna share it here either.

britney spears' hit song hit me baby one more time was when she was 16

jodie foster when she was 12 in taxi driver where they cast her as a child prostitute and sexualised her

these are just famous examples but young female celebs have been sexualised since forever and honestly, there was fewer barriers and they were more exploited when it did happen. at least now the media has SOME criticism of it when it happens. in the 2000s and before, male celebs would openly be dating underage girls and the media wouldnt even care for it & would glorify those relationships. 2 of the women i mentioned were cast as child prostitutes and sexualised heavily in the movies that got them known, one was even posing nude in hugh hefner's magazine as a 10 year old. these arent necessarily the worst examples but it shows enough for u to realise this issue was always concerning, just in different ways. comparatively this is millie bobby brown when she was 13:

besides i think when gay ppl say that, theyre referring to themselves as being more gnc than whatever the current gender norms are. i do think femininity nowadays has become even more restrictive compared to the more recent previous decades (which werent necessarily liberating either) tho and i do think a certain level of gender non-conformity was more stylish in certain years

[petersnya]

sight for sore eyes|| peter b. parker ||

[part. 00; jealousy]

summary:: “I watch your eyes as she walks by…” you pause, tears forming as you remember the way peter looked at her- the way you wanted him to look at you, “what a sight for sore eyes…” || when the realization hits you about peter, it’s too late. but sometimes late is just the right timing… sometimes.

word count:: 1.5k

warnings(for the whole series):: friends>enemies>lovers, mature themes/smut, cursing, slight violence, lots of angst, fluff, clueless peter

warning(for this chapter):: cursing, angst, fluff

paring:: peter parker x fem!reader

[a/n]:: wattup! peter parker (and any other teens mentioned) have been aged up to 17 and turning 18 as the story goes on! i hope you enjoy this and make sure to let me know if you want to be tagged in the parts<3 also! endgame and infinity war did not happen for the sake mine and your happiness though out this ‘book’

“Your going down Parker.”

“Nah man, Im gonna—“

Peter was cut off but the vibration of his controller as you killed his video game character. Taking off your head set and setting down your controller with a calm, soft smirk spread across your face as your side of the TV had ‘winner’ written across.

“No-no! That’s not fair dude! You cheated,” Peter yelled towards you as you walked into the kitchen to grab a slice of pizza. Reaching into the fridge to get a soda, you felt your back being pressed against Peter’s toned chest as he grabbed the soda you had in your hand.

Opening it and taking a sip he chuckle at the look on your face as you turned around to face him. All he did was walk away, back towards the couch, falling back on to it as he picked up his head set.

The look that made the curly headed boy laugh was still on your face as you watched him. To him, you looked annoyed yet humored by him; but really, you couldn’t help this feeling you felt when you felt him against you. Redness began to creep up your neck but quickly faded as you shook the feeling he gave you.

He’s you best friend idiot. You can feel this way for him if all people.

“You coming?” Peter question, starting a new game. You rolled your eyes to make it seem as if you weren’t flustered but the boy a few feet away from you.

“Yea man. Ready to get your ass kicked agin?” You joked as you sat next to him.

“Haha- not funny.” He said with a straight face and a fake laugh that made you giggle as you shoved his shoulder with yours.

The whole night as you a peter played video games back to back, you couldn’t help but think about the feeling of his muscular chest against you. Around 1:20 AM, you and Peter had started to get tired. The boy next to you turned off the gaming console, slowly turning towards you.

“I got the couch, you got the bed.” He said, sleep lacing his voice. You wanted to protest, saying that you could both have the bed; but something stopped you and you just nodded your head, telling him good night as you walked to his bed room. His aunt, May, wasn’t home but made it very clear that she had an eye on both of you so you knew that Peter didn’t want to his aunt May to see you to in the bed together. Even if the two of you were just sleeping.

Laying in bed, Peter’s bed, you stared at the sealing not being able to fall asleep.

The smell of room sent your mind spiraling. Rolling over onto your side, you pushed your arm underneath his pillow as you inhaled his the sent. Peter was the only thing on your mind. The way he smiled, his chocolate hair and honey brown eyes, the light freckles across his nose that you could only see if you were up close to his face. His laugh made your heart skip beats.

“3:57 AM,” you read the clock sign with a sigh. You knew you should go to sleep; so you rolled once again, getting into a more comfortable position. Your eyes getting heavy as you drifted into sleep.

<<<<<<<<

A warm arm draped around your waist, fingers slowly sliding up and down your bare stomach from the shirt that lifted in your sleep.

You smiled softly at the contact, not thinking to check who it was. But the feeling a bare, muscular chest on your back made your eyes fling open.

Slowly, you turned your head to see who was behind you, even though you knew it was—

“Peter?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed back in response, not opening his eyes. You couldn’t shack the feeling of the chill that ran up your spine, and the goosebumps that formed on your body.

“Wha- uh.. what are you doing?” You questioned in a hushed voice.

“Hhmm? Oh sorry. The couch got uncomfortable. I didn’t think you’d mind though.” He said while opening his sleepy looking eyes.

“Oh no-I don’t mind.”

Peter removed his arm, turning with his back turned towards you. You almost whimpered at the feeling of his arm not being around your waist anymore.

Stop it [y/n]. This is Peter we’re talking about here. But why would he put his arm around me and not expect me to feel some way about it?

The thoughts ran through your head fast, the last on lingering for a while.

You and Peter were the best of friends. If he needed someone, you were there and vise versa. But you weren’t really that girly. So Peter didn’t think of you in ‘that type of way’. You didn’t think of him that way either. The two of you always called each other ‘bro’, ‘dude’, or ‘man’; but you still had that feeling of tingles and warmth—

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud, tired groan from Peter. The sound going straight to your core. Quickly, you got up and went into his bathroom— making sure to not make a lot of noise as you went, Incase May was home.

Looking in the bathroom mirror you stared at your self in question. You were a tom-boy. You were wearing a pair of rolled up basket ball shorts of Peter’s and one of his very large white Tee’s. You shrugged at your reflection,

“If I wanted to look all girly and ‘pretty’ I could be the hottest girl he would know.”

“Who’s he?”

You jumped at the sound of Peter’s raspy voice behind you. He only had on sweats and no shirt. All you could think was

Damn

“No one, just.. speaking hypothetically.”

“Your wired,” he chuckled as you grabbed a towel from the bathroom closet, mumbling something along the lines of, ‘I’m just gonna go shower in Mays bathroom’. You just nodded, going to take a shower of your own in his bathroom.

After your shower, you went into the kitchen where May stood, making coffee for the three of you. Peter sat on the couch flipping through channels.

“Hey honey!”

“Morning May,” you said as you say in one of the chairs at the dining table.

“Are you going to Florida with Peter, Ned and Mj?” She questioned, you nodded in response. The three of you had been planning this for a while now so you were beyond excited to spend time with you best friends.

You stood for the set you just took, walking over to Peter. He was wearing his usual jeans and flannel but this time had a baseball cap on. As you slumped beside you grabbed the hat and put it on you backwards. Peter chuckled at your childish act, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

The three of you sat in silence till May was done with the coffee. She brought it over to you and Peter, handing you the mugs. You thanked her as she walked away.

Peter’s and your phone got a text notification— the two of you checking it at the same time. It was a group chat with you, Peter, MJ, and Ned for the trip to Universal Studios.

Ned: heyyyy.. so Liz and Flash are also coming to Disney with us.

You and Peter looked at each other at the sight of what Ned texted. You watched as Peter texted back— his cheeks a blushed red color. You have known Peter long enough to know when he’s turning red from anger. This wasn’t anger. He was… blushing?

Peter: Liz is coming?!

You face fell at the text. Looking down at your phone, you glanced up at young guy next to you; but quickly looked away before he saw you.

Mj: yea Ned! Wtf are they coming for???

Ned: well I was talking about it to Betty and they over heard and kinda invited their selves… srry:(

Y/n: I’m just gonna ignore those bitches and go to Hogwarts like I planned.

Peter looked at, “[y/n], you don’t like Liz?” He questioned.

You shocked your head no, not caring enough to look him in the face.

“How dude? She’s so hot,” he said with a smirk. Your heart sank at the words.

What the hell are you acting like this for [y/n]?

Peter continued to text in the group chat. You silenced your phone— not wanted to deal with this right now.

You had never became jealous of anyone. Confusion over took you as you scrambled your mind for why you were jealous of Peter and Liz. You didn’t like Peter at all. Did you?

Did you like Peter Parker? The thought lingered for a while.

No. No I can’t like him and I won’t. It’s just wrong.

Those words that you promised yourself you would keep was the biggest lie you had told yourself. Peter Parker was like a drug—

How could you not get addicted?

I hope you enjoyed this ‘chapter’ !! Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part!! :)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Here’s chapter two. Think I’ll probably slow down writing. Appreciate y’all.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: I follow every little whiff

💀💀💀

You gave yourself a day off that week. Rather, the desolation of Birch allowed you an excuse to get away from your desk. An internet outage across the town had you up and wandering the main road just after noon. Your grandmother refused to join you so she was left to her true crime novel and the weekday droning of talk show hosts.

After a peek in the book shop where you picked out some used thrillers for your nan and a guilty splurge on one of Babs' pies to add to the surprise, you stopped by the diner and had some soup to warm up from the unrelenting cold. You played around on your phone as you blindly slurped from your spoon. With no available connection, you swapped candies to achieve a score high enough to get to the next round.

After another loss, you put your screen down and added some pepper to the tomato soup. You leaned your chin in your hand and peered across the road. The Asp was just diagonal from The Chipped Saucer and from your seat by the window you could see the comings and goings of the dingy bar.

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the hundreds of comments on your video. You weren't entirely surprised that the internet cheered at the sight of a woman beating up a man in broad daylight, you'd seen much worse on the web. But many were curious and asked about how it started and about the small town alluded to in the caption.

You picked up your phone and flipped open the camera. You pointed it through the glass as one of the many bikers strutted out of the bar and down the street. You knew him, like most in town, he was the leader's right hand man. Steve Rogers. He had an odd gait, rigid with long strides, and you remember Kelly used to make fun of him when you walked home from school. That felt like forever ago.

You ended the video and dropped your phone again. You'd send it to Kelly when the outage was over. It would be a good laugh. Plus, you hadn't heard from her much since she moved to the city.

You finished your soup and paid. You went out into the street and cut around to the backstreets. You made your way back to your nans and found Pippin scratching at the front door. You stopped and scooped him up before you let yourself in.

"Don't like the snow, do ya?" You set him down and he whipped his tail before skittering off, "hey nan, I got you some stuff."

"You spend too much," she grumbled as you hung your coat and grabbed her treats.

"Only on you," you sang as you entered the front room, "sugarless blueberry pie, your fave, and some books about murder and all that freaky stuff you love."

"Hmm," she watched you put the pie and books down on the coffee table, "suppose the pie will go good with tea."

"Ah, and I suppose I'll be making that tea?" You returned.

"My arthritis…" she pouted but her grin came through.

"Yeah, yeah," you snickered as you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "we going black today or something lighter?"

"Put on some of the pekoe," she called back, "make a whole pot."

"Will do, ma'am," you trilled and basked in her annoyed mutter.

💀

When the internet came back, you sent of an email to inform the agency of the interruption and promised to meet your deadlines. Then you puttered around and added a caption to the video before you sent it off to Kelly; 'why he walk like that tho'. She sent a series of crying emojis back and told you to post it.

'Nah, it's a dumb joke.' You typed back.

'Saw ur last vid, ppl will eat it up,' she insisted.

'Well, got nothing else to put up. The account’s dying since no one cares about my writing.'

'DO IT.' Her words sealed your resolve and you uploaded the video with some dramatic music in the background.

The response was almost instantaneous. Several comments saying they were happy to see more and others being for another video. 'We all wanna see inside this fucked up town' one added and several latched on. Ignoring the questions of where this was, you gave a thin promise of future small town thug content. 

You turned back to your work email and opened up your draft for your next gig. You couldn't help but smile as you went over your work. You might have just found your niche.

💀

You knew your nan would lose it if she knew you were snooping around the club, so you didn’t tell her. You went down, made her breakfast, went back upstairs to do your work, then tiptoed out in the late afternoon to poke around town for something to upload. Birch was so dull when you lived there but to those outside, it was a novelty you were all too eager to provide.

You got more videos of the bikers; some revving their bikes, others arguing, but there was nothing overly usable. You were getting bored of it until the man himself walked out of the bar. You record the man’s glower expression as he marched down the sidewalk and turned off just down the way.

‘His name is Bucket… wtf?!’ you keyed in and snorted as you waited for it to load to your account.

Still, there was nothing special going on, like always in Birch, and your grandmother was bound to get suspicious if you kept sneaking around. You went back and hid your phone before she could bitch about it. You cooked her dinner and sat with her as your thoughts swung between work and your TikTok.

You went to bed but couldn’t sleep. You ended up watching YouTube on your phone as the windows shook with the night winds. It wasn’t until the darkness began to glow that you were roused from the cocoon of your comforter. You looked out and saw smoke coming from the main road.

You didn’t think before you pulled on your jeans and shoved your feet into your slipper, unconcerned about them soaking through as you barreled down the stairs, the sleeves of your hoodie only half on. The back door bounced behind you and you crunched down into the snow and clamored past the row of lifeless houses. 

You were out of breath as you got to the end of the path and rounded the diner to gape over at the burning garage. You got closer as the line of bikers stood in their leather with breath puffing before them in the frigid night. You stepped back into the shadow of the brick façade of the realty office and swiped your camera open.

Your hands shook and you struggled to steady the image on the screen as the mechanic woman raged in only her tee shirt. You didn’t quite understand what was going on; only that her garage was up in smoke and then men were doing nothing to smother it. She swung at the dark haired man and spat at several others; “cowards”... “fuck all of you!”

You gulped and held your breath as she was dragged away by the large redheaded henchman of the slender outsider. She fought for a moment before she was flung over his shoulder and the biker followed their leader back to The Asp. You sidled in between the building and hid until the voices faded into the wind.

Well, that would be a hell of a video. It might even go viral.

💀

Your phone did not stop. You almost felt bad as you saw the screen limn the edges of your cell as you left it face down on the little table beside the couch. Your nan sat in her rocking chair talking away on her corded phone to Linette from down the road. You suspected that every other person in town was gossiping about the same thing; the fire.

You finished your coffee and rubbed your eyes as you checked the time and ignored the pulsing notifications. It was too much to keep up with.

Your grandmother hung up and sighed, “can’t believe it. You hear?”

“Hear what?” you pretended ignorance.

“That old garage burned down. The one with the lady,” she said, “pity. When I was a girl, that place was a salon. Ma used to take us there to get our hair cut. The barber would give us wrapped candies and pretend to cut himself with his scissors.”

“Oh? It burned down?” you weren’t sure you were very convincing but you also could just say you saw it happen.

“Yep, no one really can say. You know, maybe she was welding or some rag caught, but I bet my money on those bikers,” she sneered.

“Good thing you’re poor,” you kidded, “and why the bikers?”

“Oh, well, you know Kimmy, Linette’s girl, works down at the diner and she saw that mechanic arguing with one of those strangers, the ones dealing with the club men. Well, it’s no coincidence that trouble follows those leather jackets around,” she rocked as she nodded knowingly, “oh, one of the boys I knew back in the day, he was found burnt up with his bike. They said the tank blew… well, I saw it and that tank was pristine.”

“Nan,” you gasped, “you… Jesus.”

“Well, things don’t change in Birch, we just get older,” she continued, “when you’re young, everything seems new but then you age and it’s all just the same.”

“Wow, how… inspiring,” you said dryly.

“Girlie, you gotta be careful,” she intoned, “that fire, that’s a lesson to all the women in this town. To everyone. You don’t cross the Commandos.”

“I don’t think anyone--”

“That’s another thing, there has never been a shortage of stupid people, not now not then,” she girded, “those women who get tied up in that club, their lives are already done.”

You frowned and hid your phone in your pocket as you stood. You rubbed your neck and picked up your empty mug, “I should get started.”

“Mmm,” she said as she dialed the phone again, “I wonder if Fran knows yet.” 

💀

You were being really fucking stupid but peer pressure was not a logical thing. Even through a screen, you found it hard to resist the goads. So there you were, your phone in your hand as you live-streamed your walk down to The Asp. The data costs alone would make you regret it but you were caught up in the hype of you fifteen second of internet fame.

“Alright,” you stopped across the street and gave a view of the moniker with Cleopatra sultrily looking down at you, “this is it… I just gotta play it cool…” you turned the lens towards you and smiled nervously, “hopefully that dude at the front doesn’t stop me.”

Comments flicked up the bottom of the screen so fast and smilies and hearts floated up the side around your face. You crossed the screen as you turned your phone against your coat and approached the bar door. The large biker butted out his smoke and you bared your teeth nervously. He didn’t stop you as he rolled his shoulders and coughed.

You entered to the noise of classic rock and low voices, the clink of glasses and tap of chalk on marble. You glanced around and quickly swept your phone around to give a view of the patrons. You hurried over to the bar and climbed up on a stool.

“You need a drink?” the woman behind the bar scowled. She looked worn out even with her lips painted bright pink and her eyes clouded with blue shadow.

“Uh, sure, can I… can I get one pint of everything you have on tap?” you asked as you set your phone down and shrugged out of your coat. You draped it over the next stool and reposition your phone as you flipped the cam and used the built in stand on the case to angle yourself onto the screen.

“Sure,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced past you.

You swung your feet as you waited for her to pour the five pints; some with too much foam and the others with no head at all. You took the first and held it up for the camera.

“A classic, BudLight,” you held it up to the light, “no head and…” you sipped, “flat.” You plunked it down and coughed as you grabbed the next, “this is a raddler?” you looked at the tap for confirmation, “grapefruit… smells like piss…” you had a sip, “tastes like it too.”

You chuckled to yourself and asked for a water. You made a show of swishing it around in your mouth before you moved onto the third beer.

“Had to cleanse the palate,” you joked, “now… lots of foam on this one, dark. You know, I’m pretty surprised they have Guinness here but let’s see…” you tasted it and crinkled your nose, “that’s it. Exactly like toilet water!”

You read some of the comments telling you to check the bottles for bugs and laughed. Suddenly you were yanked off the stool by the back of your shirt and your phone was swiped up by another man as the first restrained you. You struggled against his thick arm as it hooked around your neck and the leader of their crew stared at the screen of your cell.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as he hit the screen with his thumb but the stream kept going. He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped it instead.

“This is the bitch posting about us online,” the man at your back growled. It was Steve, the one with the weird walk.

“I doubt either of you know how to use a computer,” you scoffed, “hey, let me go.”

“And why would we do that when you’re snitching to the whole world, sweetheart?” Bucky kicked your phone away as he crossed his arms.

“Actually, I’m--” you grasped Steve’s arm as it threatened to get tighter, “--promoting your trash business. I was just having a tasting, if you had just asked--”

“Shut up!” Bucky stepped closer and brought your legs up and stopped him as you planted your feet against his stomach.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from behind the bar as the waitress shoved aside her empty tray, “hey, she’s just a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky huffed, “she looks full-grown to me.”

“So what are you gonna do?” she said, “she’s young. You can’t--”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” he snapped.

“She’s right,” another voice intoned and that man, Sam, came up beside them with a pool cue in hand, “she’s just goofing around.”

“She’s a rat,” Steve insisted.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s called a meme and you do walk a little strange,” he chuckled, “no one’s gonna follow her breadcrumbs back to this shithole anyway.”

Bucky considered Sam and then looked at Steve. He poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth.

“So… you vouching for her?” Bucky asked.

“She won’t cause any more trouble, promise,” Sam said, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better,” Bucky snapped his fingers and you were released, “get her out of here.” 

[nuianced-tck-enby]

Gender is confusing. I was born and raised as a girl in a conservative Christian household where both of my parents were pastors kids and our family became missionaries, making me a missionary kid. There were always heavy expectations on me to be a good, calm, polite kid who didn’t get into fights or arguments in public. To only obey and protect the family reputation and the reputation of the God that I was supposed to represent. 

As the eldest daughter, I learned to push down my own needs to placate others and I’m only now, as a 20 year old, learning how to slowly unravel those lessons that have been so deeply ingrained into me. 

I’ve never been very feminine. I have always been considered a tomboy. As a kid I hated barbie dolls, the color pink, dresses, skirts, stockings, and high heels. I was perfectly content wearing jeans, shorts, t-shirts, and sneakers. I wanted to play with nerf guns, swords, be in nature, and just generally all of the things the boys did. That was allowed, to a point. Space was made for me to be a tomboy so long as I conceded to doing girly things with my little sister. No matter how much I expressed that I hated it and it made me uncomfortable though, I was still forced to look feminine a lot. My mom would dress me up for church or anything that wasn’t school or play time really in dresses, skirts, stockings, heels, and the color pink. She would put bows in my hair and tell me how cute I looked and I would throw a tantrum in my room because there was only so much I could do to fight it because I didn’t have autonomy and control over this. And I knew that once I stepped outside of my house I would have to pretend like what I was wearing on the outside was comfortable and natural to me. 

I hated going shopping for clothes as a kid. I knew that my mom and I would argue over the clothes, that I would lose, and that she would buy things for my wardrobe that I never wanted to wear. Every single time she selected girly or feminine things. She would say that I didn’t need any more t-shirts, that I had too many. That I can’t have another pair of sneakers because I already had some and what I really “needed” was a pair of dress shoes. The only time I was allowed to get items I actually liked, was at the donation store, and even then the t-shirts I chose had to be from the girl section and they had to be somewhat feminine. 

Now that I’m in college and removed a little bit from my family, l can make choices for myself. I get to decide what I wear and what I buy. The problem still exists though, in multiple forms. 1) Most of my wardrobe is still feminine because that is all I was previously allowed to own and so those are the items I have; 2) I still have to answer to my mom (read: argue with my mom) about any choices I make that she deems inappropriate for me as a “young Christian woman” (I’m not sure if I want to identify as a Christian or a woman anymore and if I do it would be a looser term); 3) Buying clothes is expensive and replacing my wardrobe is going to be a slow, and uncomfortable process.

As I struggle with my gender identity and expression, I have to remind myself to be gentle with myself. It’s hard and confusing. I’ve never really felt like a girl, but I’ve lived all of my life as one (forcibly, but still). Does that mean I want to be a boy? Am I still a girl? Am I nonbinary? Am I just gender nonconforming but still a girl? What pronouns should I use? 

At first I thought that I might identify as nonbinary with she/they pronouns since I still feel like a girl somedays, and other days I just exist outside of the gender binary. But if I sit in my discomfort and think about it, is this new identity and space that I am trying to slowly carve out for myself just a stepping stone to get to who I really am, my true identity? Do I really still feel like a girl? Am I using she/they pronouns as a stepping stone to they/them pronouns when I feel more comfortable transitioning to a nonbinary identity? 

I have so many questions and so very little answers which means a whole lot of angst. 

It feels good to take concrete actions to express myself though. Recently I purchased clothes that make me feel comfortable and good. Today I bought a chest binder online, and tomorrow I’m taking a huge (and to me, scary) step of cutting my hair to reflect how I feel. 

I’m starting to finally make decisions to express my gender identity that make me feel both good and scared. Scared because my whole life I was told and taught one thing and I internalized it. I’m trying my best to unlearn those things. That my decision to cut my hair and wear clothes that feel genuine to who I am doesn’t deserve to be stopped by a sense of religious guilt or out of fear of disappointing my mother or knowing that it will spark a heated argument between us.

I’m learning to be more brave and to step more out into the light and be true to myself. To stop defending my actions to my mom in a way that will placate her, to defend myself when I wear shorts without shaving and letting my hairy legs go out in public. To let my family’s comments roll off my shoulders (I don’t always exceed at this one). To be confident when I go out in public with my hairy legs. 

It’s still hard, and some days I’m still not very brave. But some days, when I do feel brave, I feel proud of myself as well. Because the more I feel brave and the more confidence I gain, the more I can shove out the shame and the guilt, and just be true to myself. And it gives me hope that one day I’ll be able to live out both my sexuality and my gender identity without feeling any negative emotions about it. That it will become natural. And it’s a beautiful thought.

[elsewhereuniversity]

About Face

“Do you have any questions about your prescriptions today, uh…m-miss?” The pharmacist’s question is laced with assumptions about who you are. It’s not great, of course, but it’s also not worth your time to fight about today.

“No, I’m good,” your smile and voice are sugary-sweet, but your eyes are daggers as you take the bag and turn back towards the door. The heat and humidity are already staggering at 8 am and you are immediately made sticky by the brief walk to your car. As you start it up, there’s a brief chime of email-receiving from your phone, but you ignore it. Then there’s another ding, this time your lab-mate, Valerie, texting you.

Hey, u almost in?                                                                                     In like 30min. had to stop by pharmacy

K. Jill was looking for u. Also ugh that paper for tomorrow, I’m not even a  birdsong person lol

Lol get over it, I had to read one of your fancy neuro papers last time. Did jill say what she needed me for?

Whatever lol. She didn’t say.

                                                                        Ughhhhhhh

Jill, Dr. Dominguez, is your advisor, and you know you need to get her some figures and sections of your thesis soon, but these damn stats…well. There’s a reason you prefer spending your time traipsing off-trail through the wilderness over sitting in front of a computer all day. Not that this part isn’t interesting and important too, but come on.

Traffic is moving at a sluggish pace, of course, so you’re lost in contemplation and dread of the analyses you need to attempt running today, and the inevitable conversation with Dr. Dominguez that will have to happen at some point. As the traffic finally begins to move, you grit your teeth. Maybe it’s time to consider actually asking for help. I have no fucking clue how to do multivariate shit…You stare ahead as you inch forward, before a frustrating, jolting stop at a red light. Your eye is drawn to a kid crossing the road, wearing a grey hoodie. They look forlorn, for some reason you can’t entirely enumerate, and you glance back at them as the light finally turns.

The sun isn’t very high yet, so there are still some odd shadows stretching across the sidewalk, but you could’ve sworn that the kid had no face.

****

You manage to put the pharmacist and your grandma and the obviously-just-a-trick-of-the-light-I-mean-how-else-could-that-be faceless kid out of your mind for the rest of the morning and actually get some results you can work with from the analyses you’d been worried about. And when Dr. Dominguez pops into lab to talk to you, she is actually impressed at both the pace and quality of work you’ve delivered thus far. In fact, you’re feeling pretty damn good about everything, despite the earlier unpleasantness, so you decide to grab some lunch and hang out with some of the other grad students and lab techs.

Lunch-special sushi in hand, you plop yourself down at one of the rundown old tables in the work room. Valerie is there, along with Raul, one of the grad students from a micro lab down the hall, and Jackson, one of the general lab techs. Everyone says hi, but you’re only vaguely following the conversation as you dig into your spicy tuna roll. Something something TA stipends being cut. Which is such bullshit, of course, but nothing new. You’re just about to jump into the discussion when you get a Facebook notification. It’s your cousin, who tagged you in a post. You stare for a good five seconds at your phone.

Just remembering the good times with my cousin before he decided to be a transsexual.

And then a picture from when you were 14, a picture you’d thought you’d deleted from every conceivable online location. A picture that highlights pretty much every single aspect of your body that made staying in the closet completely untenable. Everything just always happens at once, huh.

“Fucking asshole,” you mutter, and are surprised to feel the hot prick of tears in your eyes.

“Becca, you alright?” Valerie asks, and you belatedly realize that everyone at the table heard you and is now staring. They think you were talking about one of them, or responding to something they said.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Just something my cousin posted. She’s—she can be such a jerk. Don’t worry about it,” you say as you hastily wipe away the tears.

“What’d she do?” Jackson asks. Valerie glares at him so fiercely that he rolls his eyes and holds up his hands, “Just, like, if you wanna talk about it.”

You sigh. You’re not precisely going stealth, but you also don’t just talk to everyone about being trans. Have you actually come out to Jackson? Valerie knows, and Raul, but you don’t think you’ve ever directly talked to Jackson about it.

“It’s—it’s fine. Just, she posted a picture of me from before I came out, and I really hate thinking about any of it.” You speak with a bit more force than you intend.

“Why is that a big deal?” Jackson asks, taking a bite of his pasta. Valerie glares at him again and Raul just shakes his head.

“It’s just…it took me a long time to figure it out, and I don’t particularly like being reminded of that. And it’s not great for dysphoria, either.” You say this distractedly as you go to the post and untag yourself.

“That’s really rough,” Raul says, frowning.

“Sorry, what’s that word?” Jackson asks with a raised eyebrow, “I guess I just don’t get it? It’s just a kid picture of you, what’s it matter?”

And that does it. You stand abruptly, “I need to get back to the lab.” You hear Valerie and Raul berating Jackson as you walk away, but you’re just so very done. You toss the empty sushi container in the trash at the corner of the hallway, near one of the windows overlooking the main walkway through campus. And you nearly trip over your own feet as you swivel to double check something down below. A gray hoodie. A child with no face looking over their shoulder as they turn a corner.

****

You don’t mean to take the wrong street. It’s already been far too long a day between all of the inanity with your extended family and Jackson. And everything you tried to run after lunch was a bust, making you feel like Dr. Dominguez’s praise earlier was completely undeserved. Given all of that, you decided to get takeout again, even though you really should be cooking, so you’re walking to pick up your order. It is early evening, the shadows having elongated to embrace nearly everything, and while debating whether it’s even worth confronting your cousin about the jab, your feet simply take you the wrong way. You don’t even notice, until you’re standing in front of an empty park that’s three blocks over from where you should be. Or, wait.

Not empty. One lone figure, sitting quietly on one of the swings, wreathed in shadow.

You’ve been walking quite quickly, but over the course of a few steps have come almost to a stop. With a shiver, you glance around the area, but no parents or adults are in sight, and the figure looks young, even from a distance. 12, maybe? Maybe the kid lives in one of the nearby houses? Probably. Should you call someone? Who? Not the cops. They’d just as soon arrest or hurt the kid as help them. It isn’t that late, leaving the kid be is probably the most prudent course of action.

But. The kid feels…familiar. Even from a hundred meters, you can see that their shoulders are hunched, their hands are tight on the chains of the swing. The gentle creaking as those chains move with the slight shifts of the kid’s body is despondent in a way that is known to you, somehow. So, against your better judgement, you leave the sidewalk and walk across the damp grass to the edge of the playground. When you step onto the sand, the kid’s head jerks up and their shoulders tense further, raising almost to their ears. You stop walking and from the new angle a streetlight throws the kid’s grey hoodie into stark relief.

“Are-are you okay?” you have to clear your throat to get the words out and your voice sounds weak and tinny in the still, silent park.

The shoulders shrug. The kid is also wearing jean cutoffs, their scuffed sneakers unlaced.

“Do you need me to call someone?”

A sharp shake of the head, and then their hands release the chains and fall into their lap.

“Don’t need anything,” the kid’s voice is low, you can barely hear what they’re saying. Gingerly, you take the last few steps to the swing set and awkwardly settle into one of the worn rubber seats. Only after you have already done this do you think to question why you are so compelled to talk to this child who—maybe? how?—has been dogging you all day.

“I said I don’t need anything,” the kid says in an emotionless voice. Their face is still completely shadowed by their hood and shaggy hair.

 “I just—look, kid, I think I’ve been where you are, and—”

The kid cuts across you, “I tried to tell them today. But I…couldn’t, I didn’t know how to, so I just ended up saying I like girly shoes and wanted some or whatever.”

Oh. So you were right. You know exactly what’s going on. In fact, you’re pretty sure you had that precise conversation, once.

“That’s tough,” you acknowledge, slowly pushing back in the swing, which creaks beneath you, “It took me a long time too.”

There’s silence. Then:

“That’s what I was worried about.”

You start and quickly glance over at the kid, who has finally turned to face you.

She doesn’t have a face, which, you suppose, really shouldn’t be a surprise. You weren’t seeing things, earlier. There’s just a smooth expanse of dark olive skin. The featureless head tilts to one side and she speaks again.

“I thought you might recognize me.” The voice is plaintive. With every word, you feel a sense of vertigo, like there is a mouth, somewhere, that is making those sounds, that it’s right in front of you, but you cannot perceive it.

You are breathing very rapidly, “I thought—how do you know me? What’s, I mean—”

“This?” the kid gestures at her face, “I don’t know, I can see but I can’t see myself, I dunno what’s going on. All I know is I was walking to the park and then I was here, or I mean, on the road this morning and saw you and I followed you and I just want to go home or just sleep or just melt away but I can’t, okay? There’s just nothing.”

Without noticing, you have sprung to your feet and are backing away from the faceless girl, the faceless girl who can’t tell her parents who she is. Who you are.

“I didn’t want to think about it,” you whisper. Why are you even responding to this? This is a hallucination, or a dream. You’re just reacting to the whole bullshit situation with your cousin and Jackson and that fucking pharmacy tech. Did you fall asleep back in the lab, is that it? You pinch yourself, but no luck, “I came out and that was what I needed. Okay? Why dwell on, on, on all of that shi—stuff that happened before?”

The girl is still sitting placidly in the swing, though her hands are once again clenched around the chains.

“I knew you were me, I guess. So I followed. I don’t think anyone else notices me either, not that that’s anything new,” The note of bitterness in her voice cuts you to the bone, “I thought maybe you—me, future me, whatever—would be able to…fix me? But nothing’s changed, has it?”

You’re backed up to the slide now, “Why are you doing this? What even are you?”

You slump against the side of slide, your knees suddenly weak, “This cannot—this is bullshit, I don’t know how you’re doing this, but—”

The faceless girl is in front of you now, hands jammed into the front pocket of her hoodie. She stands there, contemplating her future self, “I just want to understand,”

The kid, proto-Becca, or whatever or whoever she is, sure sounds like a kid desperately trying to make sense of something, and not some ghoulish nightmare creature.

“Just stop,” you say in a hoarse voice, “I just don’t want to think about it, I shouldn’t have to think about it, I just want to move forward.”

“Yeah,” proto-Becca abruptly falls to her knees, and draws them up to her chest. It takes a few seconds for you to understand the sounds that the kid is making are sobs.

You hug your own knees and contemplate getting up and running away and just forgetting about all of it: this faceless phantom of your childhood self, your relatives’ inability to accept your reality, the absurd, useless, pointless stats and analyses. You’re crying too, desperately trying to refocus on the here and now, instead of being drawn down into the rabbit hole of loneliness and regret and fear that always consumes you when you think too hard about those years in which it felt like your whole body was turning against you and you couldn’t find any satisfactory explanations for what you were feeling.

But the sounds of proto-Becca, of proto-you, sobbing into her knobbly knees bring you back to the present. Ironic, that. No matter what else, however she got here, whatever happened to her face, she’s a kid. She’s a kid. She’s. A. Kid. You were a kid.

You furiously wipe your eyes and nose and sit up, scooting a bit closer to proto-Becca.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” you say in as steady a voice as you can manage, “I was scared, and, and, and I lashed out. It’s not your fault, kid.”

She doesn’t lift her head, but the sobs are quieter.

“I mean, kid, no offense, but you don’t have a face. And somehow you’re me, right?” Okay, that came out meaner than you meant it to, “The truth is that I’ve done my best to forget pretty much everything that happened back when I was…you, I guess. But I can’t.”

She sniffles, “I’m trying to tell them, I am. But the boys at school, every time I try to talk to Mom or Dad I see those boys laughing and yelling and coming at me and I can’t, I don’t—know how I ended up here, or what to do about this or anything. I just want things to be normal.”

And, finally, you get it. Not why she’s here, or how, or what any of this means, but, at least, what to do. You’ve tried to help kids who were like you before. You’d never have told them that they needed to keep their feelings concealed, that they needed to not do anything so as to avoid reminding you of your own past. So why, then, are you doing it to yourself?

“Is it okay if I come sit next to you, maybe give you a hug?” you ask, as gently as you can.

You get a glimpse of the faceless face from behind the curtain of hair, “I—I think so?”

You get to your feet, a task far more laborious than you feel it should be, and cross to her. When you plop down by her side, she twitches, but it’s toward you. Slowly and carefully, you wrap an arm around her narrow shoulders, and hold her close. She’s still crying, and the hood has slipped from her dark curls.

“It’s okay that it’s taking time,” you say, “It’s really, really hard. I meant that. There’s…nothing out there. No one to explain to you, to, uh, us, what these feelings mean, really. I remember. I remember how much it feels like you’re just stuck in the same looped computer program. Endlessly completing the same actions with no idea why, only feeling like something isn’t right. And so scared of what happens if you do anything that breaks that loop.”

“That’s pretty much it,” she says with a note of wait, that wasn’t completely in my head???, “I don’t see how I can explain to anyone, especially Mom and Dad.”

“I think all you can do is be honest. There are some resources out there, although maybe they aren’t published yet,” you glance sideways at her, “But if you just…elucidate those feelings you’ve been sitting on, it at least opens the door to them comprehending.”

“I guess so,” she sighs, and then giggles, “But also, like, no offense, that was, like, a really freakin’ pretentious way to say that.”

You snort and ruffle her hair, “Whatever. Something for you to look forward to, then.”

She’s quiet for a bit and then, quick like a bird, she wraps her arms around you too, “So I’m gonna tell them, then?”

You shrug, “When you’re ready. Whenever that is. And I promise, you are no lesser if it takes a while. Okay?”

“But you’re still going to hate thinking about me, right? I mean, about how long it took me, you, to finally do it?” her head tilts.

You sigh, “I don’t know. It’s hard, I won’t pretend it isn’t. But I think I can at least say that it’s okay. That it’s not my, or your, fault.”

When you look up, her face appears. Smile first. Broad and full of braces, her quick and nervous brown eyes darting to your face and then back to her knees.

“You’ll be fine,” you say, giving her one last squeeze, “I’m the living proof, right?”

Her laugh lingers in the air as she fades away.

x

[ship-ambrosia]

Chilumi Week Day 2 - Riptide (Fatui)

Summary: Childe tries to pull her under.

   Lumine gritted her teeth, catching her breath for just a moment before she turned heel and tumbled in the opposite direction she’d been going, barely avoiding the flame-imbued bolt of the Fatui sharpshooter who currently had her in his sights.

   “Behind you!” Paimon cried, giving her just enough time to throw up a gust of wind from her palm, blowing back the electrified hammer of a Fatui vanguard. The soldier fell on his back, unconscious, but it was only a little bit of relief as she remembered the sharpshooter again, the heat passing by her a little too close for comfort this time.

   “You’d think a Fatui hideout so close to the Dawn Winery would’ve been discovered by Master Diluc!” Lumine exclaimed, scanning the cliffs around her for the sniper. Her eyes fell on the manor in the distance, the home of her powerful, Pyro Vision-wielding ally from Mondstadt. She found herself worried for a moment, thinking of the worst. Thinking something might have happened to him while she was in Liyue. But she quickly reminded herself she was in the middle of a fight; besides, if something had happened to Diluc, someone from Mondstadt would have let her know.

   A sudden jolt in her side made her gasp; the agent with the hammer must have grazed her and she hadn’t realized it, but the aftereffects of electro energy were unmistakable. That would mean bad news if she couldn’t find the sniper, and he managed to hit her with fire, triggering an overcharged reaction-

   There was a cry from above, and then the body of the sniper landed at her feet.

   Lumine jumped, startled, unsure of what had just happened. Perhaps it was Diluc, having seen the fight in the distance from his manner? Or maybe it was Amber, the Outrider just happening to have been patrolling the hills of Windrise this way? Even Razor crossed her mind - sometimes he hunted out this far from Wolvendom. She looked up, and the silhouette she saw made her heart sink.

   Paimon gasped. “You!”

   Laughter echoed down from above them, before their rescuer - if he could even be called that - slid down the rocks effortlessly and landed gracefully on his feet right in front of Lumine. While she was breathing heavily from the fight, he hadn’t broken a sweat. Just another thing she hated about him.

   “Well, well, well if it isn’t my favorite traveler,” Childe smiled at her.

   “Well, well, well if it isn’t the most annoying of the Fatui Harbingers,” she snapped.

   “Hey now, is that any way to talk to somebody who just saved you?” He feigned hurt, but the glimmer of amusement in his eyes gave him away. “Besides, you haven’t met all of the Eleven yet, so technically, you don’t know if that’s true.”

   “Call it a hunch. What are you doing here?”

   “I was just casually passing by-“

   “In Mondstadt?” She raised an eyebrow at him, clearly not convinced.

   “Yes, I was casually traveling through Mondstadt, my lady, thank you,” he adjusted his gloves absentmindedly. “When I heard the sounds of battle! Imagine my surprise when I found it was you, my dear friends, being assaulted by thugs! I simply had to intervene.”

   “Thugs, right,” Paimon crossed her arms. “Thugs that happen to belong to your Fatui. Which makes them your thugs.”

   “Not at all, actually,” he grinned. “I’m the representative for Liyue. Any Fatui in Mondstadt are not associated with me.”

   “So who are they associated with?” Lumine asked him.

   He gave her a familiar, infuriating chuckle. “My dear, if I told you that I’d have to kill you.”

   “Lumine! Kick his butt!” Her companion yelled. “And then we’ll tie him up, and take him to the Knights of Favonius ourselves! Or better yet, leave him on Master Diluc’s doorstep!”

   Childe looked toward her, eyes gleaming as though he wanted to see her summon her sword back into her hands. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, girlie.”

   In response, she just kept glaring at him.

   “Okay okay, sheesh. You know I can’t resist that pretty face of yours,” he stretched his arms over his head, as if warming up for another fight. “They’re agents of Scaramouche’s command, as far as I can tell. Signora is still in charge of the Fatui in Mondstadt, but Scaramouche was assigned a new mission by her Majesty, and he’s been given free reign into any of our territories. I heard he was lurking in Liyue, and wanted to check out what his mission was.”

   “So you know it, don’t you?” She pressed him.

   Childe’s grin winded, as he leaned down toward her, his face merely inches from hers. “This seems a bit one-sided, don’t you think? What am I getting out of this?”

   The corners of her lips upturned slightly. She just couldn’t help it, the warm, bubbly feeling that rose in her chest whenever he got close like this. “I’m not knocking you on your ass, how about that?”

   “Like I said, don’t tease a guy. Come on, gimme something. What’re you doing back in Mondstadt? I thought you were done here. Signora already got the Gnosis, after all.”

   Lumine’s expression darkened at the mention of the event. He was trying to get a rise out of her now - everyone in the Fatui had to know about how she felt about what Signora had done.

   “I was coming to talk to Jean and the Knights about what happened in Liyue,” she sighed, giving in. “I wanted to hear some third opinions. As much as I respect Zhongli, Ningguang, and the rest of the Liyue Qixing, I don’t trust them as much as I do my allies in Mondstadt.”

   “About what I did,” Childe guessed. “And you want to tell them about me?”

   She smirked. “Don’t be so narcissistic. Not everything’s about you.”

He considered this thoughtfully for a moment, before sitting down in the grass. Childe gestured for the two of them to do the same, before pulling out his bag and producing a set of papers.

   “You’ve been deemed a threat of higher urgency to the Fatui than the Knights of Favonius, Dawn Winery owner Diluc, or any member of the Qixing,” his brow creased. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him look so concerned. “Scaramouche has been tasked with subduing you. Those Fatui agents followed you all the way from Liyue, and set up an ambush here.”

   “Whoa! Paimon thinks that must be why Master Diluc hadn’t found them.”

   Lumine listened intently, looking at the papers before her, before it clicked. Her head shot up and her disbelief turned to anger. “You were following me too, then!”

   More to her surprise, he didn’t deny it. “I had to see for myself.”

   “What kind of game are you playing here, Childe?!” She exclaimed.

   “I already told you. I prefer to let other people play the game. I’m just the thrill-seeking pawn,” he answered, his voice even.

   “I’m your enemy! Your Tsaritsa ordered one of the other harbingers to capture me, and you’re taking out your own troops on my behalf? Is this just your new way of manipulating me?”

   “It doesn’t have to be that way,” he mumbled.

   “Huh?”

   “I said you don’t have to be my enemy,” he looked at her, a grim seriousness setting in. “Wouldn’t you prefer if we were on the same side? I love fighting you, more than anything... but fighting alongside you is another thrill. Something I haven’t gotten to experience.”

   “What do you mean?”

   “You could join the Fatui,” he said.

   Lumine and Paimon exchanged a glance.

   “You’re joking,” she replied.

   Childe’s smile returned. “I’m actually not.”

   “I’d rather not take orders from Signora, thanks.”

   “Who said it would be Signora?” Childe once again leaned in toward her, his proximity making her blush again. “What makes you think I’d let anyone else from the Fatui have you?”

   Before she could respond, Childe’s head suddenly jerked backwards, the young man letting out a grunt of annoyance. Lumine glanced around to see Paimon floating in the air behind him, her small hands buried in his hair and pulling.

   “Paimon thinks that you’re up to something bad!” The little fae exclaimed. “Paimon thinks Lumine cannot trust you as far as she can send you flying with her Palm Vortex!”

   “Let go of him, Paimon,” Lumine said, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she giggled at his expense.

   “You’re lucky I’m a generous guy,” the harbinger snapped at the little companion, rubbing the back of his head. “But I’m actually being serious. You’re a very important person to me, Lumine. I would like you to work for me, in the Fatui. I can protect you from the others if you join me.”

   Lumine was quiet for a moment. She’d never seen Childe look so worried - not even when they’d almost lost Teucer in the Ruin Guard factory. He was always sure of himself, of his abilities, to overcome any obstacle before him. Now she doesn’t see that certainty.

   He’s scared. For all his lies and honeyed words, that look in his eyes isn’t something he can just fake.

   “I could never join the Fatui,” she replied, careful with her tone. She doesn’t want to push him away - in fact she wanted to make it clear to him that she’s trying to pull him in closer. “Not after everything they did in Mondstadt. Venti, Jean, Diluc... everyone else in the Knights of Favonius. They’ve been hurt by their actions. Not after what you did to Liyue.”

   He lifted his gaze to her, a storm brewing in his blue eyes.

   She smiled to herself, remembering that it was those same blue eyes looking down at the paper on his desk, at the letter he wrote his family, and Teucer’s words came back to her.

   “No, I want you to travel with me,” For what had to be the first time since she had known him, Childe looked caught off guard. She found it was something she liked from him; it made him look younger, more his own age. She felt her face soften; he had a dangerous influence over her, that she already knew.

   “If you’re so worried about what the other Harbingers are going to do to me, then you should travel with me,” she continued. “I’m not going to stop looking for my brother. I don’t have any allegiance to Snezhnaya, outside of wanting you and your family to be safe.”

   The look he gave her through all of that was so tender, held so much awe, that she felt herself wanting to look away. But Lumine couldn’t drop his gaze - she wanted to show him she was serious. Just as serious as he was about her joining the Fatui with him. She stood there, waiting for his reply.

   “Hey!” Paimon’s sudden exclamation snapped both of them out of their gaze. “Doesn’t Paimon get a say in this? What if she doesn’t want this Fatui jerk traveling with you?”

   Lumine couldn’t help the giggles bubbling up in her throat, and she turned her attention to her companion - allowing both herself and Childe to breathe again.

   She crouched down close to Paimon, as a knowing smirk crossed her face. “Are you really telling me you wouldn’t want Mr. Money Bags here to pay for every meal we have every single day he’s traveling with us?”

   “Oh! Paimon changed her mind! Paimon would be very happy to let Childe travel with us!”

   Now it was his turn to chuckle. “I appreciate the warm invitation,” Childe waited for Lumine to look at him again before he continued. “I see Teucer told you about the letters I sent home.”

   Even though it was certainly not her who should be the embarrassed one, Lumine felt her cheeks heat up anyway. “How did you...?”

   “You’re good at hiding things, girlie, but I’m better,” he said, wagging a finger at her. “I didn’t become a Harbinger just based on my fighting abilities, you know.”

   “Paimon thinks that you are still too crafty to be fully trusted.”

   “I don’t like to reveal my sources, but... Teucer sent me a letter where he asked what’s keeping me from traveling with you, since you both seemed so “happy” with me.”

   “Teucer, huh,” Paimon smiled. “He’s too crafty, just like his brother.”

   Childe’s expression suddenly became very melancholic, soft... and apologetic. “But I can’t join you. Not yet. I understand why you can’t, and won’t, join the Fatui. I already knew you were going to say no, but I had to ask anyway.”

   “Likewise,” she answered.

   He took a step toward her, towering over with that cocky grin of his for a moment. Then Childe took one of her hands in his, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but the way he grinned up toward her face from behind his ginger hair sent her heart pounding.

   “I’ll do what I can to keep you safe from inside the Fatui, my lady,” he said. “Just hearing that I’m as important to you as you are to me is enough.”

[slimepuparibaba]

Starconches and Windwheel Asters | Chapter 1: A Bet Sealed

In which Childe and Lumine have a talk on the beach and make a bet...

Okay, I am so sorry in advance, but this one is painstakingly long. I sincerely did not mean for it to be this long, but it's hopefully fluffy enough to make up for it. These first few chapters are going to need fluff. And... and I mean it. Seriously. Childe might seem a little OOC and all over the place, as will this chapter. Hopefully, I managed to capture how scattered Childe's thoughts are. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Full fic below the cut!

Masterlist -> Next

You can also read this fanfic on AO3!

"Hey, girlie, hold still!"

Those first four words made Lumine's heart thump in her chest.

She will never forget the day she met that Harbinger, the one she was supposed to call her enemy. His codename was Tartaglia, though he went by Childe. He was cunning, bold, and sly. The first day they met, Childe wasn't hesitant to reveal his intentions to her and Paimon. He was here on Fatui business, to fulfill the will of the Tsaritsa.

Even then, Lumine fell.

It wasn't a subtle type of thing, either. Everyone who traveled by Lumine's side noticed that, as soon as she returned to the inn they were staying in, she was giggling to herself... almost on cloud nine.

Kaeya was one of the first to notice it. He had left Mondstadt to ensure Lumine safe travels throughout Teyvat; and, since there was no calvary to be the captain of with the Knights, he wasn't exactly "needed", per se. Besides, Jean and Diluc were still there; surely, the Dandelion Knight and the Darknight Hero would be able to take care of any issues.

Kaeya could easily see through Lumine. He was there when the encounter between Lumine and Childe first occurred. As soon as the ginger gestured her to follow, the knight could tell how smitten Lumine was. And, while the one she happened to fall for was a Fatui, Kaeya wasn't entirely against it. He was glad to see her mind taken off the whereabouts of her brother, after all.

Barbara was the second. She was one of the members of the team to easily read the faces of everyone, whether they seem troubled or happy, or in this case, madly in love. She was hesitant that Childe was the one to sweep Lumine off her feet, but the nun shrugged it off and decided to support Lumine.

Whenever the young Harbinger was spotted nearby and approached Lumine, Barbara and Kaeya weren't hesitant to push her towards the object of her affections. They gave subtle tips, hoping the Traveler would catch on and at least attempt to make a move.

Of course, though, Lumine's comrades weren't the only ones to notice.

Childe was, of course, very aware of the Outlander's affection towards him. In fact, he somewhat formulated it. He heard of the "new girl" in Teyvat who saved Mondstadt and learned she was heading towards Liyue. Since he was already stationed there for the Rite of Descension, he decided that it was best to gain the trust of her and her acquaintances before pulling the rug out from underneath them when the time was right.

He had done this before. He would make many swoon for him and gain the information, or the Mora, that he needed. After all, he was Tartaglia, the 11th Harbinger. This kind of work was as natural to him as breathing was.

Thus, he decided to pull the strings on this strange yet powerful visitor...

"Running... errands?" Lumine asked.

"Yup! Exactly that." The ginger teen was leaning against the bar the inn had owned, his blue eyes filled with playfulness. "I've seen how your little tour group over here is faring, and I couldn't help but notice the lack of ingredients and materials you have in that inventory of yours." When he said that, he gestured towards Paimon, glancing at the floating being. Everyone else did the same, glaring at the mascot.

"Hey! What did Paimon do?!" She squealed.

"You ate most of the Sunsettias in the middle of the night?" Amber said.

"You also used our Mora to buy an entire feast for yourself..." Noelle added.

"Paimon, maybe Lumine was right... maybe it's time you become emergency food." Beidou finished chugging one of her jugs of alcohol, slamming it onto the table next to her, and smiling almost wickedly at Paimon.

Paimon was in the midst of a panic, waving her arms around. "No, no! P-Paimon meant to share it with everyone! Really! Honest! P-p-pinkie promise!" At that, Childe let out a hearty laugh.

"Well, as you can see, your team is desperate for some supplies." He looked back at Lumine, who was watching the fiasco take place directly in front of her. She was giggling at the scene, and the sound of that laughter slightly made the Harbinger's heart flutter.

I'm sorry, my heart did what? Childe tried to snap himself out of it. We're here on a mission. We have to find the Gnosis and hand it over to the Tsaritsa... this is just the usual seduction routine we've used before. Stay on track, Tartaglia!

He cleared his throat, continuing. "So, ojou-chan..." He leaned closer to the girl, flashing that signature smile that he always wore. He could tell Lumine was swooning just from the slight red that started spreading on the tips of her ears. "...how about it? You and I can round up some food. After all, I do have lots of Mora, and you are the team's leader. You should know what everyone wants." The blonde started to ponder on it, weighing her options carefully. "Oh, and you need to ditch the small child."

"HEY!"

Paimon let out a loud yelp, taking offense to the last-minute comment that Childe tacked on to his proposition. She angrily huffed, looking to Lumine and telling her to turn down Childe's offer, because it was "not fair to Paimon" and Childe was "super untrustworthy". The ginger reiterated his proposal, putting extra emphasis on the "ditch Paimon" condition, and Lumine had her mind made up.

"Alright. I should be fine around three."

"LUMINE!"

Paimon continued to throw a hissy fit, whining about how she has to come with Lumine because, without her help, Lumine wouldn't be able to hold the food. Even then, Lumine still confirmed that she made up her mind.

This was working smoothly for Childe. He would be able to get Lumine, the foolish girl, alone. No Paimon or teammate could get in between the two of them. He would easily be able to squeeze out all of the information he needed. And, if the time came, maybe the two of them could've even had a sparring match. Oh, how fired up he was just to cross blades with the Traveler.

However, he then realized that it wasn't up to just Lumine to make this decision...

"Alone? With a Fatui?" Amber spoke up, having an obvious opposition to this outing. "Traveler, with all due respect, you may be the Honorary Knight, but he's a Harbinger! You can't trust him that easily. Remember what happened with the Fatui in Mondstadt?"

Lumine looked up at the Pyro Archer and smiled nervously, correcting her statement. "I mean... if we are being technical here, it was mostly the Abyss that was involved with the Stormterror issue."

"And Venti?" The girl responded, crossing her arms. "You told me that La Signora harmed him pretty bad. Signora is also a Harbinger. I don't know what she did to Venti," Amber said, crossing her arms and standing firm, "but I know that it was bad. All Fatui are the same, especially when it comes to the Harbingers. You can't trust them--especially not one like this guy." She glared at Childe, who just flashed a smile her way.

Childe was used to this by now. When he first got promoted to being a Harbinger, everyone that used to be close to him stood far away. Not even his fellow Harbingers could trust them--in the Fatui, you had to learn to trust no one but yourself. Because the Fatui was a place for those who were used to scheming and lying for the sake of the Tsaritsa. That was what he signed up for, anyway.

The archer continued, suggesting that Lumine at least take someone with her, or let them tag along from behind. She claimed it was safer that way so that Childe wouldn't try any "funny business." "You can take Kaeya with you, or even Lisa," she suggested. "Anyone would be fine... just please, don't go on your own with him."

"Well..." The Traveler looked around at the people who were gathered near her. They all seemed to be nodding their heads in agreement, and she felt the atmosphere became much tenser than it was minutes before. "...um, if that's the case, then--"

"Actually!"

One person raised their hand from amidst the group. The Calvary Captain himself, Kaeya, stood up from his seat and approached Lumine from behind, patting her on the shoulder.

"Lumine is more capable than we would like to think. I think she'll be fine," the blue-haired man stated. He made it clear to Lumine that he was on her side--he already knew of her little "crush", anyway, and was willing to play the wingman. "She's strong enough to defeat Stormterror. Who's to say that she can't deal with one lousy Harbinger?" Kaeya chuckled, turning to the rest of his friends and teammates. From the crowd, another figure emerged, standing right beside Lumine.

"Mhm! I think she'll be fine, too!" Barbara clung onto Lumine's arm, backing up Kaeya's stance on the matter. "She's able to harness both Anemo and Geo now, and she's already proven how strong she is in Mondstadt! I know she'll be okay!" The two Mondstadt citizens glanced at each other, nodding their heads in mutual agreement. Truly, those two were on the same wavelength.

"But... but Paimon doesn't trust him!" Paimon shouted out, zooming across the room and staring Childe right in the eyes. "You can see it in his eyes... yeah, like Kaeya said! His eyes... they're suspicious!" Ironically enough, Kaeya pushed Paimon away from Childe, gesturing her to back down.

Kaeya and Barbara gave Lumine the thumbs up, almost as if to say that they would take care of the others and that it was best for the two of them to be on their way. So, catching onto their cue, Lumine coughed and looked up at Childe.

"W-well, n-now that I think of it," she stuttered, trying to smoothly change the topic. "I just realized that I am... not busy right now?" She tilted her head towards the exit to the inn, and Childe smiled softly. He understood clearly.

"Ah... then, shall we head out?" The ginger offered his arm to the girl, and she took it with glee. "Well, then, I'll be taking oujo-chan out now!"

"Bring her back home before dinner!" Beidou called out, gaining a chuckle from Childe. "Or else..."

"Yeah, yeah! I hear ya, Miss Pirate," he laughed. Looking down at the blonde, he smiled. "Now then, shall we get going, Miss?"

Oh, dear Archons, his smile was enough to make Lumine die and revive on the spot. Forget Mora Meat or Qingce Stir Fry--if Childe smiled at her like that, she would instantly have buffs and infinite health restoration!

Slowly melting from his charms, Lumine nodded.

"Yeah...! Let's go!"

Liyue Harbor is a beautiful place.

Childe knew this, considering he had been there for a while. And yet, for some reason, just walking along the beachside with Lumine made its beauty all the more noticeable.

He was able to finally get the Traveler all to himself, and seeing how easily she went with him, squeezing information out of her should be easy. He was slightly disappointed, though. Considering her title as the "Honorary Knight of Mondstadt", he was expecting her guard to be a bit higher. And yet, she came willingly without any additional convincing. How he so wished for her to put up more of a fight...

Lumine, however, noticed Childe's watchful eye on her. She ran ahead and bent down, digging into the sand beneath her. Her intentions weren't exactly clear until she gently cradled a small shell in her hands.

It was a starconch.

The blonde looked back up at her acquaintance and smiled. It was one of the goofiest grins anyone could ever have seen. She seemed almost proud of it like she needed praise for digging up such a small shell.

"Well, now," Childe teased, "must I give you a gold star for digging this up?" He was slightly amused at her actions and wasn't sure what she wanted to do with the shell. "What? Does this ojou-chan want to build a sandcastle?" Childe kneeled and leaned in closer, peeking over Lumine's shoulder. He's done this before--it's just the normal routine. He'll tease them with the possibility of a kiss and then treat them to dinner, before gaining every possible piece of information he co--

"It's for you, actually!"

...I'm sorry, it's for what now?

Lumine giggled, grabbing Childe's hand and placing the small starconch in his. Man, her hands are small, Childe realized. She's only two years younger and yet she's so tiny... so tiny that it's kind of cute...

Wait, cute? No. Not cute! Snap out of it, Childe! You're a Harbinger! What are you doing, falling for the one who's supposed to be doing the falling?!

In an attempt to ignore the feelings plaguing his heart, he cleared his throat and asked, "For me? Your enemy?" He held it up to the sunlight, inspecting it further. "Hm... and, what exactly is your intent with this, Traveler?"

Lumine brushed a stray hair behind her ear and smiled. "Well, I just wanted to give you a present. I can do that, can't I?" Once more did she flash that small grin of hers, piercing Childe through the heart. He even dropped the starconch into his lap when she did that, causing Lumine to giggle even more.

Okay, so maybe she's cute. Fine. She wins that.

"That, and..." The girl looked out to the seaside, watching the waves meet with the sand before retreating away. "...I'm not dumb, you know." Without looking Childe in the eye, she stated ever so calmly, "I know you want information."

Shit. I got caught.

So, this Outlander isn't as dumb as Childe initially believed. Good. That made the challenge all the more fun to him, after all. If it was to be easy, it practically felt wrong and would've been much more boring.

The ginger smirked, taking a seat right next to Lumine on the sand, gazing at the ocean as well.

"Well, well. So, you caught me red-handed," he laughed. "What? Did you pull me over just for that, ojou-chan? Hm?" He glanced at the girl beside him, who was enjoying the calm sea breeze.

She looked quite beautiful in the sunlight, now that Childe thought about it. The sun reflected off her golden hair at just the right angle, and the way she seemed so calm was just something else to him.

"Not exactly," Lumine answered, snapping Childe out of his trance.

Seriously, stop daydreaming and focus, dammit!

Lumine continued, "Actually... I only agreed to come with you because I feel like I can change your mind about some things."

Oh? Change his mind? That was new.

"Change my mind? Hah, on what, girlie?" He scoffed, intrigued. "Being part of the Fatui?" Surprisingly, however, Lumine nodded her head. Childe stared at her for a second, astonished. They... they only just met? Why would she care about him being in the Fatui? "You're... you're joking, right?"

"Nope," Lumine stated, bluntly. "Not joking."

"..."

After a few seconds of silence, suddenly, the ginger started to burst out in laughter, clutching his stomach and rocking back and forth. To him, such an idea was so outlandish that he didn't expect this Outlander to even admit such a thing! Him? Leave the Fatui? That was such a stupid thought that even Childe wouldn't dream of pursuing such a path.

"L-Leave the... hahaha...! L-Leave the Fatu... Hahahaha!" The boy was practically cracking up, still in disbelief. "M-Man...! When did you become so funny, huh, ojou-chan?" He attempted to catch his breath, and yet, he kept laughing. He was in hysterics.

In response, though, Lumine shook her head. She stared directly at the Harbinger, resting her head on her knees. The look in her eyes told Childe the truth.

Lumine was definitely not kidding.

Childe ceased his laughter, an eyebrow raised in confusion and intrigue. What was the purpose of this, he wondered. Was Lumine that smitten that she believed she could reform Childe? That kind of plot-twist was one that was unimaginable to him, so that couldn't be it at all. Did she think that having Childe out of the Fatui would be beneficial to her? Now that option seemed much more plausible.

He sighed, lying down on the sand and looking up at the sky. "Really, now... this is one of the first times I've heard that in years. But..." He turned his head to look at Lumine, a slight chuckle in his voice as he softly smiled, "...I never expected it to be from you."

The girl picked back up the starconch that Childe had dropped onto the sand and placed it back into his hand once more. She curled his fingers up so that the shell wouldn't fall out of his grasp, and she gripped his hand in hers, nodding.

"Well, guess I'm full of surprises." This Traveler was somewhat unlike anything that the Harbinger was able to grasp, but he found that it just made things more interesting. "I... want to make a bet with you, actually."

"Oho, a bet, you say?" Childe sat up, leaning in closer. "Continue... I'd like to see what's on the line. Our lives? Dignity?"

"How about..." The girl started to trail off, looking away before snapping her fingers and glancing back at Childe. "...your title as Harbinger?"

Oh, so we're playing that game now.

"My title? As the 11th Harbinger? No, no, no... see, even if I did take you up on that offer," the ginger stated, before hastily adding, "Which I'm not if I need to make that clear..." He sighed, closing his eyes before continuing with his reasoning. "...I had to go through a lot of stuff just to get that title. There's nothing, and I mean nothing, that you could bet on that would match up with that."

"Well," she trailed off, looking down at her feet and tapping her boots together as if stalling. "...you're right. I have nothing to offer." She looked back out to the horizon, watching the sun slowly start its descent. "You're a Harbinger, and asking you to leave the Fatui isn't something I can just ask you to do."

"Exactly."

"And... I'm sure that you're convinced that we're enemies and that you'd never want to leave in the first place."

"Mhm. Right on point."

"But...!" Lumine tried to continue persuading him, and finally decided to reiterate, "You don't have to give it up if you don't want to by the time this whole thing is over." Childe became even more curious. By the time what is over? "I want to take you sightseeing around Liyue Harbor while we run errands."

Ah, so a date...

...wait, hold up, a date--?

Aren't we moving too fast? We literally just met! Should I even be doing this on duty? Wait, what am I saying?! I'm her enemy! Why am I worried about moving too fast? It's not like I want to... or... d-do I? Damn it, Childe, get your act together!

"And... this time..." The girl, while Childe was in the middle of his own internal monologue, continued with her proposition. "I want you to take a good look and see the people as what they are--people." She emphasized this point, losing the light-heartedness that was once in her tone. "Not as people you need to collect debt from, need to defeat, or need to conquer. Just... as people with families, with lives!" She looked at him with the most sincere gaze. Her amber eyes were sparkling with a glow that was drawing Childe in, almost convincing him--hypnotizing him--to accepting the deal.

Her eyes are actually really pretty now that I have a good look at them...

"I want you to see them as an average human being, just like you and me. If you can do that... then... at least consider leaving the Fatui. I'm not forcing you to leave, but I just want you to keep it in mind, okay, Childe?" When Lumine was finished with her speech, she noticed Childe was just staring at her blankly. It was almost as if he was in a trance, which was uncharacteristic of him. "Um... Childe?"

Were her eyes always that pretty? It's like looking at the sun, but...

"Childe?"

...why can't I look away?

"Childe!" Lumine called out, snapping him out of it. He jolted, just realizing he was in a daze. "Were you even listening to me?" Childe was about to lie and say he totally did until he saw Lumine's pouting face. Her cheeks were slightly puffed, her eyebrows furrowed, and yet she was incredibly...

Adorable.

"U-uh..." Holy fuck, she's cute.

"Hello~?" Lumine started to call out to Childe, waving her hand in front of his face. "Teyvat to Childe. Can you hear me?" Little did the Traveler know the number of jumbled thoughts going through Childe's head.

It was a mess in there. Mountains of gushing ramblings about her were starting to pile on top of each other with some logical part of Childe's conscious trying to compress them and hide them far away into the back of his mind. Even then, the loud thoughts kept bleeding through. He was starting to lose focus.

She's just so cute.

In fact, he was so broken that all that left his mouth were broken words and jumbled up sentences. "Um... sorry, what? I was... um... uh..."

Come up with an excuse, you dimwit! Don't make a fool of yourself! You know better than this!

"I was looking at that... o-other starconch!" Childe stammered, trying to search desperately for some convenient starconch that was placed out in the open. Sadly, he couldn't find one, so he just pointed in a direction, hoping Lumine wouldn't catch on to his poor acting skills. "Y-yeah! That starconch, haha! Over there!" Lumine was about to check in that direction, but Childe immediately tugged on her arm in hopes he wouldn't be exposed.

...wow, he thought, mentally facepalming. This is... a complete and utter trainwreck. Good going, Childe. Good. Fucking. Going.

The Traveler, realizing how off track he was, decided to cut him some slack and summarize it in a few short phrases. She sighed, saying, "Look, I just think you're not as bad as everyone thinks you are." She hugged her knees tighter to her chest, seeming quite sincere about such a concern. "You're a lot nicer than a lot of people would think you would be, even if you're a Fatui Harbinger... you just... need to learn to put down the act, you know?"

How would you know how nice I am? Childe began to wonder. For all you know, I could be deceiving you and ready to kill you at any moment. So why... why are you letting down your guard for such a flimsy hypothesis? Are you choosing to believe that I'm nice just because you've fallen for me? He scoffed, deciding to scold her for such an unusual mindset.

Ojou-chan, that's truly sweet of you, but being smitten for me doesn't change the fact that I'm your enemy...

"Even if you are my enemy..." Lumine responded, stopping Childe from continuing his internal narration.

Shit, did I just say that out loud?!

"I think you're... way too humane for me to brush off as a totally bad person," she explained before turning her head and smiling at him.

Did she just gloss over the whole 'smitten' part? God, why can't I think straight today?!

While she was definitely very pretty whenever she smiled, Childe's thoughts were all over the place that he was just picking out things that he probably shouldn't have been paying attention to. Truly, the Harbinger was completely off his game.

"Haha... hah... humane, you say?" He nervously chuckled, trying to regather his thoughts (as well as what little left of logical thinking he had). "Girlie, with all due respect, I'm a Fatui Harbinger. You know that I'm not here for good reasons, and yet, you still want to deny that?" It was admirable, really, it was. The fact that Lumine was completely ignoring Childe's position as a Harbinger and seemingly not minding it at all was something he hadn't seen in a while, but it was dangerous for her. She was on a quest: a journey across all of Teyvat, fighting against the Abyss and the Fatui alike. So why was she disregarding Childe's position as Harbinger? Why was she denying it?

"Well... yeah," Lumine answered. "Of course I'm denying it."

"But why?"

"Because..." The blonde girl shifted her eyes away from Childe, murmuring something under her breath. Even though she tried to avoid him hearing it, the Harbinger could make out a few words: "...you keep looking lonely..."

Oh? Him? Childe? The 11th Harbinger? One of those appointed and trusted by the Tsaritsa? The one who always shows up wherever the chaos is? How could he be lonely? If anything, he was far from lonely. He was surrounded by colleagues who feared and respected him, who would listen to his every word! How was that lonely?

Lumine, still avoiding Childe's gaze, let out a sigh and said in such a small voice, "I... caught you alone once. You were... writing a letter to someone, if I remember correctly."

Oh.

…oh.

His letters.

The letters that Childe would write to his siblings back in Snezhnaya whenever he had the time; letters talking about the things he had seen, sent over with an abundance of gifts that he so wished he could give them in person but can't; the letters written with stories he wanted to tell by their fireplace back home, where they could all eat Calla Lily Soup together and laugh at the shenanigans Childe was up to.

Those letters.

The letters that he had to send from nations away because the Fatui didn't trust him to stay in Snezhnaya.

The letters that he sent constantly because he felt homesick and wanted to be with his family.

…yes, those were such letters.

How could he be so stupid to let his guard down and have Lumine, his enemy, of all people, see that?

Childe fell silent, not saying anything. His silence spoke volumes to Lumine, confirming her suspicions. She saw the look on his face and seemed to take pity on him, to which he didn't want from her. He was seen at one of his most vulnerable times--when he was homesick and hoping the best for his family. He didn't want the one he was to cross blades with one day see such a thing.

"...you seemed kind of sad writing it." Lumine looked up at the sky as if searching for someone. It was almost as if she knew the feeling Childe had felt when he was writing those letters. "...you must miss them, the person you were writing to." The atmosphere grew tense, with the girl continuing to gaze at the sky with such a sorrowful look in her eyes; the boy, remaining uncharacteristically silent. "...maybe you just joined the Fatui for the sake of that person..." She looked back at Childe, with what seemed to be a look of pain on her face. "Right?"

Why? Childe wondered. Why is she looking at me like that? Like she would know. And why would it matter to her why I joined the Fatui? I'm still her enemy in the end... He looked at the waves touching the sand gently before they moved away, back to the ocean. The waves would touch the sand, then part with it... touch it, then part... what a somber feeling he felt, just from this one conversation.

Was this her plan? The ginger kept pondering. Did she pry into my private life in hopes that she can let my guard down? In hopes that she can strike me down faster that way? Childe was slowly growing paranoid, not believing Lumine's intents to be pure. He kept searching for reasons to antagonize her, to make her the enemy. He kept grasping at straws.

The thumping of his heart, though, kept telling him otherwise.

This entire time on the seashore of Liyue Harbor, Childe was at war with his heart and his head. His thoughts were all over the place, he couldn't understand a thing, and he was making no sense. He was quite lost, though he hated to admit it. The only thing he could make out clearly was the sound of Lumine's voice and her ethereal figure as she sat there, sometimes smiling, sometimes frowning.

So maybe that's why he accepted her offer. Maybe that's why he decided to let his guard down, just this once. Maybe... just maybe, that was the reason that he took up Lumine on her offer.

"...so," he quietly murmured, breaking the silence between them. "...you just want to take me on a date around Liyue and convince me to be... what? Merciful?" He had a slight smile on his face, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. Thankfully, to his benefit, it worked.

"Something like that--wait! Date?!" Lumine almost instantly regained that innocent glow she had before, giving in to Childe's antics. "D-da... it's not a date!" she screeched, turning to him and pounding her fists into the sand. The Harbinger covered his face to avoid the sand from flying into his face, starting to feel a bit giddier.

"Hahaha, yeah, sure! Okay, I totally believe you," he laughed, lowering his arm to catch a look at the flustered girl.

"I'm serious! It's not a date!"

"Oh, then what is it? A business outing? Hahaha!" Ah... she really is a bit cute.

The lighthearted atmosphere that was with them in the beginning returned. For now, Childe told himself, he'll let his guard down. Just this once, he'll try and let Lumine do as she pleases. Some part of him was telling him that it was alright to just be a human rather than a Harbinger around her...

...and for the first time, Childe listened.

[cloveroctobers]

• TALIA NASCIMENTO•

IG info/bio: @/callmetalia333 | 524k followers | Journalist | TALIA. but u may have formerly known me as user: brdf0rdsvasquiff—rip!!!1! so don’t even think about it 😌

(23) 25 going on (26) years of age

I’ve read a canon that her name is just Talia and not short for anything & I agree with that + she’s always quick to correct someone if they get it wrong too

Her hometown is Watford, England

but she was originally born in Maidenhead in the backseat of a car during a severe rainstorm

Nonetheless watford taught her all she needed to know when it came to music

She found her first love when she heard the sound of music soundtrack for the v first time as a young girl but is often nervous to admit that?

her father is Brazilian and is a firefighter

her mother is Bulgarian and works as a secretary in a elementary school

her mother is more traditional than her father when it comes to their cultures

I originally felt like she gave only child vibes but I can deff see her giving off big sis energy since she did mention she has a younger brother

V protective over her little brother

there’s a three year age difference

her parents have separated multiple times before which caused a riff in the family dynamic

The constant coming and going from her dad became quite irritating

And Talia was the most vocal by wanting them to figure it out and NOT get a divorce

Which led to talia’s commitment issues when it came to relationships herself

was born with blue eyes yet they shifted to brown once she grew

“Tom-boy” growing up & still is

netball was her sport and man was it something to see her play?! She was quick on her feet and can definitely shoot far-range with ease

Always down for contact sports too

She lost count how many bruises and scrapes she would come home with much to her mother’s horror but she would always brush it off—it was never that big of a deal to her

yet she takes time in healing her scars with homemade treatments or purchases from beauty stores when she wants to show her legs off

she didn’t get into “girly” wear until recently, she never thought too much of her body or when she started to get curves...she always hid that behind big tee’s, fitted jeans, and kicks—that’s what she was used to

she’s got broad shoulders and toned arms

had thick bushy brows that almost formed a uni brow growing up

her mother used to have her hair always plaited since she is very superstitious, believing that “the devil lives in the woman’s hair”

yet talia’s hair texture was much different than her mother’s, maybe due to the fact that her mother always had her hair up and out of the way? Talia’s hair is much bigger, heavier, and naturally curly

+ her mother used to say some harsh things in Bulgarian about her hair — that says a lot when you’re taught to hate your hair trust!!!

when she got a little older and able to manage her own hair + afford it, She learned how to love it herself and that’s all that mattered. Her hair became v important to her, it was her source of comfort

that’s the only thing she’s high maintenance about tbh

she spends a lot of money on her hair but devacurl can still piss off

diffusing is one of her fav things to do to her hair—besides washing it, and deep conditioning, after a night of letting her hair air-dry

loves rose jam

has a embroidery machine, along with a collection of her work but only one piece is showcased in her flat. She didn’t want her place to look completely like her bába’s (Bulgarian: grandmother)

her closet is filled with many Havaianas, they’re all piled up in a wicker basket and ready to tumble over on her top shelf... if she moves one of the ceramic pots her mother left in her flat for luck, that whole shelf might come crashing down

Swears drinking guaraná the next morning cures any hangover you may have

commonly sleeps in big t-shirts and panties or not or booty shorts depending on her time of the month—it’s freeing to her

Has torn her achilles due to whatever contact sport she decided to join in on during a beach vacation with her mates

has a touch of arthritis in her shoulder

this is where her love for massages came from due to injuries she’s faced

+ It’s always a good sign when you can make someone else feel better ya know?

She’s been told she’s great with her hands ;) it all takes practice

bi mami *cringe* but she likes what she likes, and feels what she feels

she kinda has a type but doesn’t want to admit that

her mother doesn’t understand this but her father easily accepted her preference/orientation

her little brother was the first she came out to, “alright!...you still suck”

always wants to fix situations WHEN it comes to HER friends but is oblivious when it’s come to her own issues whether its in relationships/friendships +

was called out by one of her friends who she often argues/butts heads with from time to time “you’re always sticking your nose in people’s business but can’t solve your own shit!”

maybe it’s the journalist in her? she’s not afraid to ask questions or look at things from a outside perspective

her group of friends are all from different ethnic backgrounds to Indian to Ethiopian

has been in and out of relationships...maybe had one stable relationship? Outside of mc but that relationship failed after a year and she feels it has something to do with her parents and how she watched their relationship unfold but won’t openly admit that

Doesn’t like to argue in relationships and often is a little undermining with how she responses to her partner’s feelings...she’s trying to be better at being understanding and listening, her mother is like this with her father

Aquarius girl + Scorpio moon + Taurus rising

loves the water + watching water sports rather than playing them since she almost drowned once by letting her confidence get the best of her

used to be a directioner and isn’t ashamed to admit that!

take me home album stan 100% bitch there’s no point in arguing!!! Buh bye!!!

She is ashamed however to admit that she used to write for them, mostly ziam fics with a touch of Harry thrown in the mix as well...take that how u will

has a few merch pieces as well, they’re mostly loungewear + that powdery perfume they dropped. YES she still has it, no she won’t sell it to u

still supports them on the low since you know, she’s a music journalist and reviewing songs is what she makes a living for so why the hell not? They will always hold a special place in her heart. She grew with those boys

she’s not in denial like Hannah that they’re get back together

If someone wants her to film a reaction vid to zayn’s new album or release a written review? She WILL. Her top 3? 1. When loves around ft Syd 2. Outside 3. Unfuckwitable

If someone wants to hear her thoughts on Harry’s mv’s + breaking down his lyrics, she’ll tell you what you NEED to know whether U agree or not she don’t give a damn lol

Can throw hands and stomp a bitch out if she needs too. Has gotten kicked out of clubs/bars for defending her friends mainly not because someone chatted shit to her, that’s whatever but once you cross her friends? It’s on

Allegra got lucky 🦶🏼☕️ and Lucy

remained super close with jake and tim as expected...Rohan’s cool too ofc! but she’s not here for their rapping shit sorry. She’ll hit them both with a quick side eye and snarl if they start or if jake wants to recite some poetry. She’s outta here

Talia hardly had issues making friends easily with the boys it was always harder with the girls :/

they hang out all the time!

she actually became close with sammi as well, which was nice to have another girl friend around even tho they weren’t together in the house long like the others. She’s spontaneous, cute, resourceful, and kind so talia had no issue reaching out to her first to see what she was about outside of the show

don’t even ask her about what she thinks of the new seasons, she’s not here to chat shit and have her words twisted like she’s watched many of the cast deal with. If you want to talk about the over kill use of pop as the soundtrack for each season, then yeah she’ll talk to you about that

doesn’t use social media much, she finds it funny how whenever she does pop back in people are begging her to post SOMETHING so that they know that she’s alive

Pretty private

she also can’t grasp why they want her to do the bussit challenge? Lmao like hey don’t get her wrong, some of them were pretty great but she’s barely got a bum to bounce and little booties matter ofc!!! but she can’t see herself doing it unless she’s drunk off her arse!!!

maybe mc can convince her...for the fans duh!!! “Give the ppl what they want! Talia! It’s not like you won’t be around music!” “I’ll think about it...nah.”

she’s been busier since the show, able to tour more and WRITE which is what she loves to do

Her secret pleasure is watching those nurse shows and firefighting shows in her free time and those singing shows you already know that’s a given

Wanted to be some form of a nurse growing up but knew she could help people in another way

*inserts* “music Is The best Medicine” overused but true quote here!!

I feel like she’s a r&b lover

listens to those hour long rain sounds on YouTube to help herself fall asleep

she‘s not the best cook but she’s a foodie and she’s down to try new food always

occasionally her and Tim are jake’s Guinea pigs when he’s whipping something up for his menu 

and hates eating the same things all the time unless it’s breakfast! There’s not too much more you can do with that

that’s also her specialty, making breakfast for u in bed

Morning afters with her are intimate but humorous. She’ll poke fun if you’re both looking crazy, always joking and in the best mood whether things got physical or not she’s just happy to have you here 🥲

I think her love language is quality time

if you’re playing her route and Lucy is the ex, and you’ve decided to fully commit to each other I deff see Lucy still trying to pull some shit outside of the show just because she feels like she can but once Talia see’s that it’s really starting to get to you despite how much you try to brush it off or snap at Lucy or even Talia!!! Talia is on Lucy’s ass in seconds! She doesn’t need a ex to ruin her possible future , “you’re not gonna fuck up this good thing I’ve got just cause you’re flimsy at relationships babe, so go be a cunt somewhere else or you’ll be sorry. I promise.”

anthem: Snow Tha Product — Shut up

[sunshinebillyhargrove]

You Belong With Me (a billy hargrove x oc fic)

Note: I’ve been writing so many things and I’m excited to share one of my new fanfics to this blog. This is a small opening to a fic I want to get into this coming month. Billy Deserved Better. Tw for bullying and eating disorder. This is kind of an enemies to lovers fic but like 10 things I hate about you with a lot of Tswift inspiration. I hope you guys like it!

--Alison Gilbert wasn’t popular like the other girls at Hawkins High. Invisible actually. A careless single mother and a stuck up best friend made that much easy. Everything changes when the new King, Billy Hargrove, sets his sights on her. A secret prank tears them apart but it might be what brings them together too. Will love conquer all?--

prologue/one.

“Alison, over here!” A small hand rose across the school cafeteria. The blaring bell trilled loudly. It was lunchtime. Alison wanted the day to end. Her black Converse moved across the floor to her best friend. Many students moved like zoo animals into the big room to start eating. All of them talking about the upcoming prom.

Heather looked cute as a button with a big smile to match and lots of pink make up. Maybe a little fake. She was too popular for Alison. She dressed all in girly prep colors and was rich. Alison lived on Cherry Lane and just wore band teeshirts with ripped jeans. 

“Hey.” Alison sat down and didn’t touch her meal. She didn’t want Heather commenting on how much she ate or the fact that she liked to wear dark colors. The two couldn’t have been any more different.

“There’s a huge party tonight.” Heather gushed excitedly. Alison shrugged. “We’re going. I’ll let you borrow something of mine...that fits.”

“Fine.” Alison picked at her lunch but wasn’t interested in it. Heather slid a flyer over.

“Prom is coming up. I’m going with Steve Harrington. Is that a problem?” Heather sipped a diet coke. “He asked me.” Alison hid the pain because she had a huge crush on Steve once and Heather knew it.

“No, it’s fine.” She got up with her lunch. “I have to go to the library.” Alison got a few steps and tripped, landing with a thud. Students laughed hard at that fall. She was so unpopular and they liked to pick on her. Heather peeked behind her shoulder but pretended she didn’t see anything. She didn’t want to be seen helping her loser friend.

“Tommy, you asshole!” Alison swept her tray up and food splashed everywhere. “You’re such a jerk.” Tommy and Carol laughed with the other people in the popular click. They always bothered her for no reason. She was never mean to them. 

“Watch where you’re going, fatass,” Carol retorted back. “Go cry about it.” Alison sniffled her tears and ran away. She went into the bathroom and made herself throw up after Carol’s words. Already thin but she didn’t know it. She wanted to be pretty like Heather. Alison pretended she carried herself too high to be bothered with comments. She just wanted to fit in.

Back in the cafeteria, Billy Hargrove came into school late and saw his friends still laughing at their table.

“What’s going on?”

“Talking prom.” Tommy winked and another popular boy laughed. “You going?”

“It’s stupid.” Billy flicked his lighter around. 

“We’ll give you forty bucks to make Gilbert go. Your neighbor. Ugly dork.” Tommy smiled with a mean look. “They say the bookworms are wild in the sack.”

“That’s dumb, dickweed.” Billy shook his head.

“A hundred.” The other popular boy sprang up. “Take Gilbert to the prom and show us your Hargrove charm. Show us how cool you are, B. Kiss her before they announce prom king and queen. And then dump her for whoever is queen.”

“Hey, uh, it might be me dummy.” Carol started to file her nails and got all prissy.

“Could be Heather.” Tommy chuckled. “Just ask her, B, and get paid for it. It’ll be so hilarious.”

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll think about it.” Billy got up and left

-

Alison and Billy were neighbors on Cherry. Their windows even faced each other. Alison liked Max and Susan but hated Neil. He was such a creep. She heard him fighting with Billy a lot. 

Her mom wasn’t home because she was never home anymore. Always going out with guys and not caring about her daughter. She worked at the new mall that just opened in the makeup section of JCpenney. It didn’t matter. Alison liked to be alone mostly. She could just play piano and sing wherever she wanted. Alison always wanted to be on Broadway. She got all the choir solos which made Heather jealous. Her mom was a beauty queen and always mad her daughter didn’t want to be in pageants. Alison was just a theater dork.

Alison went into her house and ate a banana because it was easy on her tummy. The doorbell rang so she groaned and got it.

“Hargrove?” She made a face at him because he was such a jerk like Tomy. He didn’t pick on her as much but he ignored her a lot. “What do you want?”

“Hey, Gilbert. Alison.” He seemed shy all the sudden. Her blonde hair flowed in the wind against pale skin. She was actually really pretty. Especially since she got her braces off. Even with the big reading glasses she wore in class, she was beautiful. Big teeshirts hid her figure. “I was thinking about prom and wondered if you wanted to go with me.”

“Uh no...” Alison shuffled. “But thanks.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. I want to ask you.”

“Ask one of those other popular girls you like. I’m not interested, Billy.” She moved to shut the door and his foot caught it. 

“You mean, sluts? I don’t want other girls. Sorry, Tommy’s such a jerk. He and Carol are just stupid.” He explained and got charming. “I wanted to make it up to you. Go with me.“

“Maybe,” she said shyly. Billy was really cute and he seemed genuine. He bit his lip and looked so good. Things were better after he and Max started to get along. Alison had a crush on him but he was such a jerk to everyone. It felt like he might be tricking her to and she didn’t want to be hurt again. “I’ll think about it. You can still ask someone else though.”

“You know where to find me, Ali. I’m asking you so just deal with it. I only want to go with you.” Billy winked at her which sorta made her melt. “I’ll see you around and all you gotta do is nod that pretty blonde head of yours. Okay?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Well, I always thought you were cute.” He touched her chin and her heart stopped. “I’m not interested in any other girls. We should hang out. It’ll be fun. I could show you a really good time.”

“I’ll think about it Hargrove.” She tucked some hair back. “I’ll have to get a dress and everything.”

“You’ll look beautiful in anything you wear so get a dress and we’ll go. I can pick you up at 7 on prom night.” Billy winked. “Just say yes, Ali, live a little.”

“Yes, okay, I’ll go with you.”

“Awesome.” Billy smiled and turned to go. “Don’t be nervous, we’ll have fun.”

“Your friends won’t get mad?”

“Ah, who cares about them.” He walked off and lit up a new cigarette. “See you, princess.”

“Bye, Billy.” Alison sighed against her door and locked it. She had a date with a boy.

Billy felt kinda guilty after he walked off. He could just be nice and get paid. What Alison Gilbert didn't know couldn't hurt her. But, the guilt still ached at him. He realized he might have actually liked this girl. 

-

I hope you liked it! I try not to picture young Tswift as Ali but I can’t help it.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 55 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Thanksgiving went on for 17 million years. (AKA 5 Chapters) We laughed, we cried (did we cry? I don’t think we cried – except for Adore maybe), we fucked on some stairs until our knees gave out...

This Chapter: Pearl makes a getaway, Raven carbs up, and Violet returns to work with help from a very special assistant.

***

“Pearl! Pearl, wake up!”

Pearl stirred, a hand shaking her, and opened her eyes. Fame was leaning over her, a sleep mask pushed up on her forehead, a frantic expression in her eyes.

It had been a long night. When Pearl arrived at the townhouse, they’d at down and had a long heart to heart, Pearl tearfully confessing the whole sordid tale of her and Adore over tea and leftover cranberry apple crisp, Fame even going the extra mile and topping it with an uncharacteristic scoop of ice cream--she must really have seemed pathetic. Pearl told her everything, and while Fame was understanding, she didn’t hold back or let her off the hook either, pointing out where she thought she’d fucked up, how she could have done better, and why Adore was justified in her hurt and anger. It was difficult to hear at times, but Pearl appreciated her honesty. Most of all, she appreciated that Fame stayed to listen, giving her the space to talk it out, sometimes resting a hand on her thigh just to let her know that she was still there.

After that, cried out and emotionally exhausted, they’d climbed into Fame’s bed to snuggle and watch TV, Pearl’s eyelids soon drooping heavily. When Patrick got home, Pearl had offered to leave, of course, but he saw how tired she was and insisted she stay, Fame sleeping in the middle of the bed.

Now, it was morning and Fame was apparently in a tizzy over something. Pearl rubbed her eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“The chef’s idiot assistant let in my in-laws without asking. I have no idea why they’re here so early, we clearly said brunch was at noon!” Fame fretted, Patrick buttoning his shirt in the background.

Pearl tried to catch up. “The chef?”

“Oh my god, what are we going to do?!” Fame explained, hands pressed to her cheeks.

“She could go out the window…” Patrick joked.

“Yes!” Fame turned back to Pearl. “Get dressed, you’re going out the window.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Pearl asked. “That’s dangerous!”

“Use the trellis!”

“Darling, I was kidding,” Patrick said gently.

“Well, I’m not!” Fame snapped her fingers. “Where are her pants?”

Patrick handed over Pearl’s skinny jeans, shaking his head. “Can’t we just say that one of your employees came for an early meeting?”

“Oh yeah Patrick, an early meeting on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Here in our bedroom. Sounds totally respectable. I can’t believe this, we’re never using chef John again! Pearl, hurry up.” She got up and walked to the window that overlooked the backyard, unlocking it and opening it wide.

“Was he supposed to let them just wait on the front stoop?”

“Patrick,” Fame said sternly, in that tone that told them both that she was not fucking around. “If you’re not going to offer any other solutions, you can just go downstairs and entertain your stupid family.”

“I’m gonna let that one slide,” Patrick said as he walked to the door. “And Pearl, godspeed. Try to avoid the rose bushes if you fall.”

“So, is this your way of telling me that I’m not staying for brunch with the fam?” Pearl asked, putting on her jacket and slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder.

“Pearl.” That same tone again, entirely unamused.

Pearl stepped up to her at the window, looking out. The good news was, there was a high cement wall that would likely break her fall before the ground. Worst case scenario, she’d break a bone...or two.

“This is the first time I’ve done anything like this since high school,” she giggled, then reached out and touched Fame’s hand. “Thanks for last night.”

“Of course,” Fame replied, softening for a moment, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss on the mouth. “Anytime.”

“Anytime except right now, you mean?”

“Exactly,” Fame said, helping her climb onto the window ledge and over to the trellis. “Once you get down to the garden, make sure to go around that way,” she pointed, “And duck when you pass the windows.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

***

“Now,” Juju took the dinosaur tray from the counter, handing it to her son, his pancakes carefully cut up, “take it slow when-” Juju was cut off as Owen grabbed the tray, practically spinning around in his haste to make it back to the family room. “Hey! I said take it slow young man!”

It was a Sanderson family tradition to spend the Saturday after Thanksgiving with pajamas, pancakes and TV, and even though Kelly had gotten too old to join, their teenager leaving the house almost as soon as they had made it back from Boston, Juju knew with absolute certainty that she’d find a toddler under each of her husband's arms, time with dad something the twins valued above anything else.

“They grow up so fast.” Raven smiled, her best friend sitting at the kitchen counter in a set of soft pink silk pajamas, twirling a bit of hair around her finger.

“Don’t even say it,” Juju sighed, cutting up the last of the fruit so she could make Raven a plate too. “It feels like we just left the hospital.”

“You’ll have another little one soon.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Juju smirked, and Raven laughed, taking the offered assortment of fruit that Juju handed her, but then, something crazy happened. Raven grabbed two pancakes too, putting them on her plate.

“Hey girly, what’re you doing?” Juju didn’t normally care about Raven’s diets--actually, she tried not to be involved in them at all whenever she could, but she had already spotted her best friend putting creamer in her coffee. Juju worked in fashion as well, several houses and magazines using her on shoots, but she didn’t think she’d ever really understand the sacrifices models went through. Sure, it was part of their job to go to the gym, but she didn’t think she’d ever be able to do it, even though Raja had made it seem effortlessly easy when she had been in her prime. “I know Sutan isn’t here, but I don’t believe the warden has relaxed the rules that much.”

“Well.” Raven looked uncharacteristically insecure for a moment, crossing her arms. “I’ve decided I’m done doing swimwear.”

“Oh?” Juju knew Raven had campaigns coming up in December, her friend complaining about it the last time they saw each other.

“Yes.” Raven nodded. “I’m done. It’s not worth the money, when it’s killing me to stay in runway shape year round.”

“Okay.” Juju nodded, sort of understanding where Raven was coming from. When she wasn’t walking fashion weeks where everyone had to fit sample sizes, the industry loved her curves, Raven smoking hot when she allowed herself to get to a size 4 or even a 6, which was a much more accurate representation of what her body actually looked like. “And Tan is cool with it?”

Somehow, it worked for Raven to have her fiancée’s brother as a manager, but Juju knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would have killed Detox if he ever tried to make decisions on her career, even the idea of Raja, Fame, heck, even Bianca moving in on her turf making her genuinely uncomfortable.

“I…” Raven clicked her tongue. “Might not have told him yet.”

***

“Urgh,” Sutan groaned as he flopped on the couch, face first, a white t-shirt clinging to his chest. “Fuck.”

“Hello,” Violet was biting her lip in an effort not to smile, her boyfriend absolutely exhausted, his duffle bag thrown somewhere on the floor. “Did you have a nice time at the gym?”

They had been in the middle of breakfast, Violet making her way through a coconut yogurt when Sutan had gotten a call, his eyes widening to an almost comical size when he recognized the number, the horror on his face telling the clear story of how he had completely forgotten.

“My trainer is an absolute sadist.”

“Mmh?” Violet had never seen him move so fast, Sutan drowning his coffee in one big gulp, barely pressing a kiss against her temple before he had rushed out the door, grabbing what was apparently an emergency gym bag from the hallway closet.

“He made me do 25 extra sets of everything for being late. Can you believe I’m paying someone to torture me?” Sutan toed his shoes off, winching at the movement as he got on his back, putting his head on her thigh, his hair still slightly damp. “I thought I was going to die.”

Violet had wondered why Sutan had never let her be around when he went to the gym, the man only going on nights or mornings when they weren’t spending time together.

Now, it seemed like she had her answer.

“Poor you.” Violet smiled, running her fingers over his forehead, the TV playing quietly in the background.

“I know you don’t mean that,” Sutan looked up at her, “but I’ll take it.”

“You know,” Violet bit her lip not to yawn, the smallest of efforts almost taking her out, putting their breakfast away and getting to the couch feeling like enormous tasks. “I’m going to be so jealous once I’m off my pain killers.”

Violet tried not to think too hard about what a broken bone actually meant, not being able to run or even do yoga to manage her emotions a complete nightmare.

“Seriously?” Sutan lifted an eyebrow, and Violet ran a finger over it. “When I was 23, you couldn’t force me to go to the gym.” Sutan smiled. “Not that Raja’s model diet made it necessary.”

“You were on a model diet?”

“Beat having to cook for myself.” Sutan grinned, and Violet could totally imagine it, the Amrull twins chugging their way through green smoothies side by side.

“How long did you actually live with Raja?”

“Literal decades,” Sutan snorted. “God I’m ancient.”

“I like to think of you as finely aged wine.”

“HA!” Sutan laughed, and Violet couldn’t help but smile. She loved watching him laugh, loved seeing his face scrunch up with happiness. “For that lovely eyes,” Sutan pointed up at her. “You get to stay another week.”

“Oh…” Violet paused, “I, umh, I didn’t…” She had felt so happy just moments before, but now, she could feel the uncertainty crawl up her spine. “We never actually talked about… You don’t have to do-”

It wasn’t like her at all, but Violet had simply not considered the week to come, hadn’t even thought about where she would be staying, what she would be wearing, what she’d be doing with herself beyond believing Sutan when he said he’d get her to work Monday.

“Violet.” Sutan reached up, grabbing her neck, his fingers easily holding her. “You live on the 5th floor with no elevator.”

“And I appreciate your help, but I’d never want to-”

“You’re staying here. No argument. I’d be a terrible boyfriend, fuck, I’d be a terrible friend, if I wasn’t cool with you staying here.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Sutan nodded. “Besides,” He pulled on Violet’s neck, forcing her down so he could press a kiss against her lips. “I like having you around.”

Sutan smirked, and Violet couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks.”

***

“Where do you think you’re going?” Katya was whispering as she looked over at her fiancé. She and Trixie were in the movies, Annabelle playing on the screen.

“I have to pee, I had an extra large soda.”

Katya placed her hand on Trixie’s chest, pushing him down into the seat, keeping him in place. “No.”

“What?!” Trixie hissed.

“I said no.”

And in that moment Trixie saw how Katya was smiling, and he felt a surge of arousal go through him.

“Okay…”

Trixie leaned back in his chair, Katya’s hand on his chest ending up on his stomach where it rested, keeping him in place.

Trixie couldn’t help but squirm, arousal and the need to pee getting mixed up in his head, a heavy sensation settling over his entire body, his fingers drumming on the seat, restless energy filling him as the movie continued.

“Katya, please…” Tixie hissed, the stupid movie not even halfway done. “I’m about to explode.”

“No.”

Katya smiled, picking up her drink, her lips closing around the straw as she oh so slowly drank the rest of her own small soda, the sound causing chills to run over Trixie’s spine.

Katya held him in seat through the credits, and Trixie had tears in his eyes, he had to pee so badly, but Katya had told him he couldn’t, so he wouldn’t, because he was her good boy.

The very last name ran over the screen, and Katya removed her hand, Trixie shooting up from his seat, his jacket and even his bag forgotten as he ran to the bathroom, a sense of euphoria rushing over him as he could finally, finally, finally pee, his entire body shivering in delight.

***

When Bob heard the design floor door open, he instantly perked up, whirling around in his chair.

“Well well well!” he exclaimed, yelling out to the floor, his oversized coffee mug in hand, a pencil tucked behind her ear. “Look who’s back!”

“Hi everyone,” Violet came through the door, a happy but unsure smile on her face. It was clear that she wanted to wave, but she was stuck with her crutches, a bulgy cast on her ankle.

Violet looked over her shoulder, and Bob felt his eyes bulge out as none other than silver fox of the year, Sutan Amrull, came through the door in an impeccable suit, Violet’s purse and what had to be both of their jackets on his arm.

“I knew it!” Bob cried out, slapping his desk with his hand. “I knew those two were dating! No lipstick my ass!”

He looked around triumphantly, everyone's attention now divided between Bob and the pair at the door, Sutan looking on with a raised eyebrow and a smile on his lips, while Violet seemed like she was wishing that the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

“Good work, Sherlock.” Jovan drawled, his head in his hand as he was sitting backwards on his chair. “How’d you figure that one out?”

“Well you see-” Bob grinned, just about to go on a tangent, when he was cut off by his boyfriend, Maxwell leaning against his desk.

“I literally told you they were dating a fucking week ago.”

“Right.” Bob huffed. “But you’re always wrong about this stuff.”

Sure. Max had told him that about the whole Violet falling thing, the drama with Aiden the talk of the department, but he hadn’t actually believed it when Max had said he had seen Sutan Amrull press a kiss against Violet’s temple, the two of them apparently leaving together.

“Are your coworkers always this much fun?”

Bob’s head whipped at the sound of Sutan’s voice, the man smiling as he looked down at Violet, one of his hands in his suit pocket.

“Don’t answer that Chachki!” Jovan yelled out, making everyone laugh. “Just come on over here!”

Violet looked extremely relieved to be called for, and Sutan followed behind her as she swung herself across the room on her crutches-- No hobbling for that bitch.

“Man, look at you go!” Bob grinned, walking over to Jovan and Violet’s desks, his own work completely abandoned. “It’s like you’ve been using those things all your life!”

“Thanks Bob,” Violet replied drily, even though she was smiling. She looked a lot better than he expected, her hair and makeup done to her usual perfect standards, curls cascading down her back. She was wearing a long sleeved black dress with a high-waisted skirt, and even a heel on her good foot, Violet Chachki as always picture perfect.

“I cannot believe you’re wearing heels with crutches. You’re an icon, and we should all aspire to your standards.”

“You’d fail.”

“Ha!” Jovan snorted, the man giving Violet’s shoulder a quick squeeze before he returned to his computer.

“Besides.” Violet pulled out her chair, sitting down with as much grace as she could muster, shaking her head disdainfully. “It’s only 2 inches.”

“I promise you,” Sutan smiled, putting Violet’s bag down on the table. “I tried to tell her it was a terrible idea.”

“Good to know.” Bob bit his cheek not to give too much away, but on the inside, he was dancing with delight at all the delicious gossip he was gobbling up. “Hi, Bob Caldwell.” Bob held his hand out, nearly shrinking on the inside when Sutan took it. “Design Project Manager.”

“Sutan Amrull,” Sutan smiled, shaking it firmly. “Elite Model Management, though around here I’m probably better known as Raja’s brother. I assume you know her very well.”

“We sure do.” If Bob was honest, he had forgotten that Maxwell had followed him over, but what he wouldn’t forget was the ridiculous grin on his boyfriend's face as he shook hands with Sutan. “I’m Maxwell Heller. Designer.”

“I’m familiar with your work.” Sutan grinned, pulling back to take a seat on the edge of Violet’s desk and Bob wiggled his eyebrows at Max, who nudged his elbow into his side.

“What do you have there, lovely eyes?”

Bob’s eyes widened in delight as Violet looked up like she had fully forgotten they were all still there, her embroidery frame already in hand, the massive skirt she was working on tethered to it.

“The dress.” Violet smiled, the worry Bob had seen on her face when she first walked in all gone now that her work was safely back in her hands. “The couture one.”

“This is your couture dress? Let me see.” Sutan reached into his jacket pocket, taking out a pair of glasses that he quickly slipped on before he carefully picked at the skirt, taking a section that was already done, examining the work. “This is very impressive.”

“Did you hear she’s closing the Spring runway?” Bob grinned, the morning only getting better and better.

“Well,” Sutan pushed his glasses into his hair, a big smile on his face, “with a gown like this, how could she not?”

“And that’s enough for you!” Violet reached out, her cheeks pink as she took the dress from his hands, her tone stern even though she was smiling. “Thank you for fulfilling your duties as a full time boyfriend by carrying my stuff. You can leave now.”

“Boyfriend?” Maxwell squeaked, and this time, it was Bob’s turn to nudge him.

“Am I a little too old for that title?” Sutan smirked, looking between them.

“Well,” Violet interjected, her tone completely dry. “You can be my man friend if you’d prefer?”

“Ha!” Sutan snorted, a grin on his face. “And I think that’s my cue to go. I’ll text you.” He leaned over the desk, giving Violet a quick peck on the lips before standing up, shaking hands with Max and Bob and waving to Jovan as he grabbed his jacket and left.

“Damn Chachki,” Bob watched as Sutan left, his arms crossed over his chest. “We gotta hand it to you. That is one sexy fucking man.”

“Umh…” Violet paused, looking up at them, her embroidery needle already in hand. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

***

“Morning, Jackie!” Sutan waved, stopping in the assistant bullpen to check if he had gotten any physical mail. Jackie was a new girl, had originally only started out as a temp, but she had done a shockingly good job, so Elite had officially hired her a few weeks ago.

Sutan didn’t have his own personal assistant, and had never had one even though he was sure Tamisha would give him one if he asked.

“How was your Thanksgiving?”

“Great, thanks.” Jackie smiled, her brown bang swept across her forehead. She was wearing a green and yellow sweater, her nails painted in a deep orange.

Sutan loved Jackie's style, the woman always dressed like she was living in the 60s, but his favorite thing was that she was cool, calm and collected under pressure, and unlike the baby temps, she was a woman in her late 30s who hadn’t just taken the job in the hopes of becoming a model.

“Also,” Jackie lowered her voice, leaning over the desk. “Ms. Petruschin is waiting for you in your office.”

“Hmm?” Sutan raised an eyebrow. He had an open door policy, and everyone was always welcome, but usually, they were welcome when he was actually there. He hadn’t stopped for coffee after dropping Violet off at work, and now, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a mistake.

“She didn’t want to wait at reception, so I let her in.”

“Ah.” Sutan nodded. That sounded just about right for Raven. “Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing.”

Sutan walked over to his office, not even trying his key in the door since he knew it’d be unlocked.

“Raven!” Sutan put on his best game face, his voice light and happy. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence?”

Raven looked up from where she was sitting-- not sprawled on the couch where she’d normally be, but at a chair in front of his desk, spine ramrod straight, her Birkin carefully placed on the floor.

“... Everything okay?” Sutan shut the door behind him, quickly flicking the lock. Normally when he had his models come by, he’d take a seat behind his desk, but today, that didn’t seem like the right option, so instead, he sat on the corner of the table, looking down at his sister in law. “Raven?”

“I,” Raven bit her lip, her white teeth sinking into it. “I have something to tell you.”

“Okay?” Sutan kept his voice level, doing everything he could not to let his worry show on his face. The last time Raven had come to him like this, it had been with an absolute disaster involving several talks with a lawyer, but Raja hadn’t said anything, hadn’t given him any hints or sent a single text, so it couldn’t be that bad.

“So,” Raven took a deep breath, lifting her chin as she looked directly at him. “I don’t want to do swimwear anymore.”

“.... Okay?”

“It’s not worth it, and I hate it.”

Out of everything Sutan had dreaded. Of all the things that had flashed through his mind. This was not what he had expected at all.

“Well, that’s not a problem.”

“You’re not mad?” Raven’s eyes widened, surprise and anxiety painted on her beautiful face.

It was clear that Raven had expected him to be disappointed, or even upset, and Sutan couldn’t help but remember the inexperienced young girl he’d signed at only 17 years old.

It had been a long time since he’d been reminded of that, the Raven of today much more likely to slam a door or yell in his face, but the tough act had always been and would always be a facade to hide her obvious vulnerability.

Other agents had sometimes asked how he dealt with her, how he could remain calm in the storm of Raven’s emotions, but he had always felt responsible for her well being, and had always felt protective of her.

“Raven.” Sutan crossed his arms. “It’s your career. Your body. Your decisions. How I feel, and how the brand feels doesn’t matter if you hating it is your genuine emotion.”

Raven nodded, swallowing, and Sutan could see that it wasn’t an easy decision for her.

“As your agent, it’s my responsibility to make sure that you stick to your commitments, but cancellation fees exist for a reason.”

At that, Raven winced, two cancellation fees taking a hefty chunk out of her next paycheck, half of the money going to the brand while the other would end up in Sutan’s pocket but she didn’t protest, sticking to her decision, and that was when he knew she was serious, that she had thought it through.

“Rave,” Sutan reached out, touching her shoulder. “We’re okay.”

At that, a smile finally cracked through, a relieved sigh coming from her. “Good.”

“You know,” Sutan pushed up from the desk, walking around it. “We just got the potential for a Clinique campaign.” Sutan picked up the sales pitch he had received, Clinique sending over a courier with the products they wanted to focus on, Raven being one of their top five picks for the campaign.

“Clinique?”

“I wasn’t going to offer it to you because it conflicted with your December shoots, so I’ve been pulling alts for them, but now, it seems like we can say yes.”

“They pay well, don’t they?”

“That they do,” Sutan had to hide a smile at Raven’s obvious enthusiasm. “You haven’t filmed any commercials in a while, and I know you generally avoid speaking.”

To say that would be an understatement, a director once telling teenage Raven that he couldn’t understand her because of her Russian accent. Raven had gone directly to a speech therapist after that, even though Sutan had found it completely unnecessary, the director just a bigoted jerk.

“Consider it.” Sutan handed her the pitch. “You’d be absolutely fabulous.”

“Maybe,” Raven smirked, “if the offers are lucrative enough to be worth my time.” She tossed her long dark hair over one shoulder, and Sutan grinned.

That was the girl he knew and loved.

“Only the very best, top tier gigs for you.”

“Exactly,” Raven laughed, standing up, the pitch still in hand as she cleared her throat. “Well, guess I’m off.”

“Off to celebrate with some bonus desserts?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing.” Sutan smirked. “Just remember that you’re still a model.”

“Yeah, yeah yeah, stop yapping,” Raven said, her sass fully back as she sailed out the door with a flurry of air kisses.

“Leave it open!” Sutan sat down at his desk, his plans for the day suddenly shifted around. First of all, he’d have to call up the magazine who had booked the shoots and break the news that Raven wouldn’t be available.

It’d require some smooth talk, but it was what he did best.

The real challenge of the day was convincing them to switch to another model, and hopefully, a model that resided under his own wing.

Sutan pressed the button that called for Jackie, the woman showing up before he had even opened his computer. She really was incredible at the job.

“You called?”

“I need the best possible portfolio we can make for Symone, and I need it stat.”

***

“Oh dear god…” Fame covered her eyes with her hands. “Please tell me that this has been handled, Raja, I cannot-”

“Of course it’s been handled. Trixie let Aiden go on Tuesday, and Rita took care of everything with the hospital. We’re making an attorney available to Violet if she wants to press charges.”

“Do you think she will?” Fame asked, concern creasing her brow. “That’s the last thing we-”

“Listen. We obviously can’t do anything to dissuade her, or we face an even bigger liability.”

“I know that, Raja,” Fame snapped.

“-But, my guess is that she’ll want to wash her hands of the whole thing, certainly not become embroiled in a lawsuit.”

“Right. Right…” Fame sighed. “And we’ve covering all medical costs, taxis, whatever she needs right?”

“Of course. It’s a worker’s comp thing now, so everything’s covered by insurance.”

“Good. I should probably send her something, too. Flowers, maybe. Or a little spa treatment?”

“That would be nice, I’m sure she’d appreciate it. She’s staying with Tan if you want to-”

“Courtney!” Fame called out, pausing for a few moments before shaking her head. “I swear, that girl left her head at home today. Courtney!”

***

Courtney was obsessing again, reading her last text exchange with Bianca for about the 75th time since Friday.

COURTNEY: Have a good flight! <3

BIANCA: Thx! See you next week. XX

It was so mundane, so trite, and Courtney found herself cringing inwardly every time she looked at it, wishing she’d said something deeper or smarter or more sophisticated. And the “see you next week” - did that imply that Bianca didn’t want to talk to her while she was away? It certainly sounded like it. But Courtney wanted to send her another message, wanted desperately to let her know that she was still thinking about her.

She’d been racking her brain for something, anything, to say. She could ask her a question about their upcoming meeting at Marie Claire on Friday, but something told Courtney that would be transparent and dumb, and in no way sexy anyway. What she was really thinking about, nearly constantly, was if she’d ever get to feel Bianca’s hands on her again, the heat of her mouth, the press of her perfect body. That she was ready to sell her soul for one more night together, one more exhilarating night...

But she couldn’t very well say that. She didn’t want to appear needy or crazy, even if that’s how she felt. What she’d said to Adore was tragically true: the ball was entirely in Bianca’s court. And if she was done, if she didn’t intend to see her again except at work-related events or casual encounters, then that was something Courtney would just have to live with.

The one source of hope that Courtney had, maybe a false one, was the way Bianca had kissed her goodbye. Soft and tender, cradling her face, a kiss that promised more.

Even if she’d made no such promise out loud.

Even if Courtney was an absolute idiot for thinking that’s what it meant.

“Courtney!”

Her head snapped up, realizing with a sinking feeling that Miss Fame had called her name multiple times. Shit. She grabbed her notepad and jumped up.

“Coming Miss!”

***