#i decided to draw her in an outfit i wore 2 weeks ago! except she has different shoes on and she doesnt have a butterfly belt on

[mizzical]

arei in my outfit! 🌸

[nightshade-minho]

-Nightmare- (9)

Warnings: just some making out. Oh, and some angst.

Wc: 4k+

You stayed cooped up in your room for that entire day and the next afternoon, only coming out to heat up some frozen pizza in the microwave. You gave Minho nothing more than glances and tight nods. He tried to ignore the aching in his heart.

Sleep came fitfully that night. However in the morning, he felt himself being shaken awake, groaning as he grumbled. It was too early for this.

A few minutes earlier, you’d woken up to the sound of your phone incessantly ringing. You groaned, answering the call. “Helloo~, is this Minho? My name’s Sihyeon and I was wondering- ”

You sighed at the unfamiliar high voice, getting out of bed and going to Minho’s room, climbing onto his bed to shove him awake, phone still in hand.

He whined, shoving your hand away. 

“Minho, wake up!”

“Whyyyy?” He asked, still half asleep, frowning as he refused to open his tightly shut eyes.

You crawled closer, kneeling on the bed as you poked his side. “Come onn, you have a ca-” You yelped when he grabbed your hips, flipping you over to his other side and pulling you close. He smushed your face against his chest, not letting you wriggle out of his grasp. 

You stopped struggling after a few seconds. “I hate you.” You mumbled, as his soft snores slowly resumed.

You knew you were supposed to be getting over him, but it was so hard. He was so soft and warm...no. You told yourself again that he didn’t deserve your love. However, it was easier said than done, especially when you shifted a little, causing him to open his eyes slowly, gazing down at you. God, he has pretty eyes. When he noticed the position you were in, he quickly peeled himself away, sitting up with wide eyes.

“S-sorry...” He stuttered, averting his eyes.

You sighed, the loss of his warmth mimicking the coldness you felt in your heart. “It’s fine.” You sat up, stretching a little bit and yawning as you grabbed your phone. “Someone called asking for you. Her name was Sihyeon, I think.”

“Oh. I had sex with her like two weeks ago. She’s been bothering me ever since.”

You exhaled. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“Come on, Y/n, everyone in school knows I only do one-night stands. And she wasn’t good enough to be a fuckbuddy.” He says honestly. “She should know my reputation by now. And hasn’t she heard I have a girlfriend?”

You groaned, rubbing your temple. “Speaking of which...when are we going to tell everyone that we broke up?”

He looked up at you, a flash of hurt in his eyes.

“Oh. I kind of forgot about that. Maybe a week from now?”

“Or...we could just break up right after the dinner. I don’t feel comfortable staging a scene in public...and I don’t want this to go on for any longer than it has to.”

“What?”

“Well, if it happened in front of Rina, I think she’d be less suspicious. We could like, stage a fight. Knowing Rina, the news would be all over campus in a second.”

He frowned, “I...guess.”

You gave him a tight smile, getting up to leave. He watched you, his hands twitching to grab your wrist, pull you back and tell you what he felt. But he couldn’t. He returned the awkward smile, a lump in his throat as you turned at the door. 

“I’ll get ready at 7:00.”

You closed the door.

***

That evening, you sat in your room, looking in the mirror. Today, it would all be over. However, you knew the two of you could never go back to the way you used to be. Too many lines had been blurred.

You’d given up, more or less. This love was pointless. At this point, you didn’t even care about getting together with Minho. You no longer wanted him to fall for you the same way you did. All you wanted was your old friendship back. You missed the purity and love that used to be so abundant in your friendship.

You fixed the dress. It was black, sleeveless and had a skater skirt. Plain, except for some embroidered detail around the neckline. 

You worried for a moment that you might be underdressed, but then reminded yourself that you didn’t have a reason to care. You brushed your hair and sat at your vanity, deciding to apply just a little bit of makeup. At least you could say you put in a little bit of effort. However, as you reached for your makeup pouch, your eyes landed on the polaroids you’d stuck on the mirror. 

In one, 8 year old Minho was laughing with an ice cream cone in his hand, pointing a finger and laughing at your crying form, the scoop of ice cream previously on your cone now languishing on the floor. The camera had missed how he’d given you his cone soon after. 

The other one had been taken by your mom, right before prom. Minho had been asked out by the popular girl who’d eventually ended up as the prom queen, however he’d said No. He’d known you were dateless. You chuckled at your braces-clad smile. Minho looked confident and smart in his suit, as always.

Along with the polaroids, there was a framed photo, taken after your 13th birthday party. It was your favorite photo out of them all, and also the one that hurt the most at the moment. In it, you were smiling, holding a peace sign up to the camera. Around your neck was a thin rose gold chain, a tiny treble clef hanging from it. Minho’s gift. Usually, you two didn’t really give each other gifts, choosing to make or draw something instead. It allowed more room for personalization and was more effort-inducing.

However, Minho had told you that 13 was your lucky number, and hence he had to put in a little effort into the gift for that particular birthday. He’d been saving up the money to buy it for 2 years. Minho was sat next to you, fondness evident in his eyes as he gazed at your grinning face. 

God, it fucking hurt. You slowly peeled off all the polaroids, putting them all into the box along with your hairties, shutting it. You put the frame inside a drawer, exhaling.

You hadn’t worn that necklace for a while. You stopped wearing it around the time the two of you started college. Around the time you realized you loved him.

 It was too painful to see a reminder of Minho every time you looked in the mirror. You told him you’d lost it. His expression had been indifferent when you told him. You’d even offered to repay him the cost, but he’d refused.

You bent down, pulling open the bottom drawer and lifting a box. Setting it in front of you, you sifted through the random items placed in it, pulling out the jewelry box at the bottom. Opening it, you felt your heart clench at the sight of its familiarity, and all the memories it dredged up. You lifted it out carefully, teary eyes trying to focus on your reflection as you fastened it around your neck, hands shaking a little.

You stared at your neck, touching it gently. You missed the feeling of the delicate metal against your skin.

***

When you walked out of your room, Minho felt his heart beat faster. Yeah...he’d thought you looked hot in your party outfit. But this? This was more you. The simple, clean lines of your dress...the way your hair was bouncy and natural...

Wait.

His eyes zeroed in on the necklace. His necklace.

He didn’t know what to make of it. His heart was pounding so fucking fast. 

“I...thought you lost that.” He could feel a lump in his throat at the sight. 

Your parents had gifted you your first guitar when you were eleven. The first time Minho heard you play, he’d known music was your true calling. And his was dance. It was almost like it was meant to be. 

He’d been walking by a jewelry shop when he’d seen the necklace in the display window. It had reminded him of you almost immediately. He’d gone in, his heart dropping when he realized just how expensive it was. However, he didn’t wanna give up just yet.

So he started doing errands around the neighborhood. Walking the neighbors’ dogs, mowing lawns, etc. Small odd jobs that didn’t pay very well...but in two years, he’d somehow managed to earn enough money to buy it, just in time for your 13th birthday. 

Words couldn’t express how happy he’d felt when you wore it every day for the next fourteen years. Then one day, you told him you lost it. What hurt wasn’t the fact that you lost it, it was your expression when you said it. As if it wasn’t really a big deal.

You followed his line of sight, touching your necklace. “Oh, this? I was looking through some of my old boxes and I found it.” You said with a soft smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice your red eyes.

“Oh.” He paused, looking like he was thinking, his heart doing somersaults.

Coming a little closer, he backed you up against the door a bit. Confused, you looked up at him questioningly, your heart thudding due to his propinquity. His fingers traced your neck, causing you to shudder as he lifted the studded clef hanging from it, his eyes holding an expression you couldn’t quite discern.

“Don’t lose it again.” He said sternly, eyes drilling into yours. 

You nodded, staring up at him with your lips slightly parted. 

Fuck, there it was again. That innocent expression that made him go crazy, made him want to ruin you. Before he could even realize what was happening, he was leaning in.

“M-minho?”

He opened his eyes, his expression disconcerted as he pulled away quickly, coughing. “Sorry.” He mumbled, cheeks burning. 

You shook your head, “N-no, it’s okay.” You tried to calm your heart, peeling yourself off the door and fixing your dress. He nodded expressionlessly, heading to the sofa and sitting on it.

“So. Do you have a plan? What are we gonna do?”

You hummed, walking a little closer and sitting on the sofa, keeping some distance between the two of you. 

“Well...I didn’t really think much about it. Hmm...however we do this, I think we should portray you as the good guy. I should be the unreasonable one. The whole point of this was to clear your reputation, right?”

Minho nodded. “I guess...so what are you planning to do?”

“I guess I’ll just pretend to be irritable and annoyed at you the whole time. Maybe I’ll make a big deal about you flirting with Rina or something. Just be polite, be yourself. I’ll handle everything else.” You sighed.

There’s silence for a few minutes, before Minho scoots a little closer. You turned to face him, breath hitching at the proximity.

He placed his hand on top of yours on the sofa, wrapping his fingers around it and placing it on his lap.

“I’m sorry.” He stared into your eyes. “For everything. For disregarding our friendship, for forcing you to fake-date me, for being an asshole, and taking advantage of your goodness. I’m sorry about...what happened after the party. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. Just...stay, please. Please. I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

You saw the sincerity in his eyes, swallowing the nausea as you inhaled. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why don’t you wanna lose me?”

He cocked his head to the side. He hadn’t expected you to ask that question. He thought about it for a minute, his other hand resting on top of your already intertwined ones. 

“Hmm. You should already know by now, but okay.” He inhaled. “You mean a lot to me. I literally grew up with you. You’re all I know...you’re my girl, okay?” 

You stared at him, opening your mouth and closing it. He scratched his neck. Fuck. He had more to say, but your dumbfounded expression was making him rethink that. 

“Uh...I m-mean...you know. You’re my best friend. I value our friendship a lot, so please...I don’t wanna be the one who fucks this up. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I do. Please, give me another chance.”

“Oh.” You tried to mask the disappointment in your voice. Your heart felt stuffed, but your brain was telling you that this was a good thing. He apologized, and promised to change. Wasn’t that enough for you? Minho wasn’t obligated to be in love with you.

You put a smile on your face. “Okay. I’m sorry, too. I played a part in all of this, as well. We’ll...we’ll make this work, Minho.”

He grinned, letting go of your hand to get up, glancing at his watch. “We should go.”

He looked back at you, holding his hand out. “Best friends?” He asked hopefully.

“Best friends.”

***

Minho had one hand on the steering wheel, glancing at you from time to time with a stupid grin on his face. You weren’t mad at him anymore, and that was a start. 

You looked so pretty. He liked how you looked both sexy and cute at the same time, the skirt of your dress flowy, yet the spaghetti straps showing off your smooth shoulders...and the best part about it was the necklace around your neck. Somehow, he felt like it marked you as his better than the hickeys did. The marks on your neck had faded a bit, but were still slightly visible...something he was very happy about.

“Um, Minho...eyes on the road, please.”

He chuckled, focusing his gaze back to the road as you pulled your skirt down a little. “It’s down this road, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay.” He stopped the car, unfastening his seatbelt and stepping out, walking around to open the door for you. 

“Hmm. The place looks nice.” 

You shrugged, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Listen, Y/n...you don’t have to do this. We’ll come up with something else, I mean...I don’t want you to come out of this looking like the bad guy.”

“Minho, we can’t come up with anything. We’re already here. Just...let me do this.” You sighed, looking up at the number plate on the door. “Mm. This is the one.” You rang the doorbell.

He nodded, a little nervous. He decided to button up one of the three buttons he’d left undone.  You looked at him, pouting. “Why’d you do that? You looked better with it undone.”

He blushed, opening his mouth to respond when the door was opened.

“You guys! Right on time!” Rina gushed. She had on a tight fitting red dress, matching red lipstick and pearls on her ears, as well as around her neck. Her hair was in an immaculate bun. Was she overdressed or were you underdressed? 

You turned your eyes away from Minho, opting to smile politely at her. “Thanks for inviting us.”

You glanced at Minho. If you hadn’t known Minho well, you would have thought his smirk was genuine. However, you could see the layer of nervousness behind it.

“Come in, you two. I’ll get the plates ready.”

She beckoned you in. The apartment looked the same as the last time you’d been there, only cleaner.

As you followed Rina in, you saw the backs of a guy and a girl sitting on the couch, chatting to Juyeon who was standing next to them. Rina followed your line of sight. “Oh...sorry, I invited one more couple to join. I hope you don’t mind.” She glanced at Minho. “You know them, right? I mean, I know you know Mera well. And Hyunjin’s your friend.”

Oh.

Minho nodded. “Yeah.”

You breathed in. You didn’t want to put up an act in front of two more people...you’d already been nervous, but now you were more so.

“Ah, Y/n! You look nice.” Juyeon said, winking at you and causing Minho to shoot him a glare. Did this guy have an ounce of shame?

Mera and Hyunjin both gave you awkward smiles which you returned, thanking Juyeon as Rina gestured to the couch.

“Wait here, okay? I’ll go get the table ready. Y’all can talk while I’m gone.” She smiled, before leaving and going into the kitchen.

There was an awkward silence in the room as she left.

You glanced at Mera , who was wearing a shimmery blue-green dress that made her look stunning. She cleared her throat. “Um, hi guys. How are you?”

“We’re doing alright.” Minho spoke monotonously. He looked at Hyunjin, pointing between the two with a clenched jaw. “When did this happen?”

Hyunjin paused for a moment. “Hmm...at the party.”

“Um, I didn’t see you-”

“I came upstairs after you two left.” He chuckled. “Speaking of which, good night, I assume?”

Minho looked at you, surprised to see you shrug, smiling. “It was pretty good.” You grinned.

Mera’s eyes narrowed as she saw Minho swallow, leaning back against the sofa.

You sat up a little, wondering how you should segue into an argument. You were second-guessing it now. You weren’t feeling the same eagerness you felt earlier in the morning to fake-break up with Minho, especially when the two of you had more or less made up. 

Mera gave you a small smile. “Just good? I couldn’t walk for weeks whenever Minho and I had sex.” She giggled, missing the awkward atmosphere in the air as she uttered the words.

Minho glanced at you. The annoyance in his expression was subtle. You rolled your eyes, turning back to Mera and giving her a fake smile.

Juyeon coughed, straightening up a bit. “TMI, Mera.” He chuckled, giving you another wink, which Minho thankfully missed as his gaze was directed to you. He picked up on the fact that you were uncomfortable. He moved closer, putting his hand on your thigh and squeezing reassuringly as Hyunjin asked Juyeon something, the three talking among each other. 

Minho took the chance to turn to you. “Look, we had no idea she’d invite more people. You don’t have to do anything. We don’t have to be in a rush. Just let me handle it.” He whispered, making you feel a lot lighter. You relaxed, your stiffness melting, along with your heart as Minho smiled at you. 

Rina came back into the room, honey-sweet smile present on her face like always. “It’s ready! Come on, guys.”

***

A few hours had passed. The dinner wasn’t as bad as you’d expected it to be. In fact, it was suspiciously good...everything from the food to the people. Surprisingly, you found conversation to be alright. You really liked Hyunjin. He was a nice guy, maybe a little overdramatic... (especially when he’d taken a bite of pasta that had been too hot) but overall, you could tell that he had a good heart. 

Mera, despite flirting a little too brazenly with Minho from time to time, wasn’t  bothering you much. Besides, Juyeon’s flirting was somehow even more brazen, his winks and smirks all directed to you. The weirdest part was that somehow Rina looked completely oblivious to it all.

When you finally finished eating, you were feeling pretty full. The food had definitely been ordered from out...there was no way Rina was capable of that level of cooking.

Hyunjin sighed. “That was really good, Rina.” He said, prompting some nods and appreciative moans. 

“Thank you.” She giggled.

Mera set her fork down. “I really have to be going, I’ve got an appointment early tomorrow morning. Rina, you coming?”

“Nah, I’m staying with Juyeon today.”

“Okay. Dinner was amazing. We should really do it again.” She leaned down to press a kiss to Hyunjin’s cheek. “Bye, Juyeon, Minho.” She made eye contact with you, smiling warmly. “Y/n.”

Once she left, it was just the five of you. Minho looked at him, a questioning look on his face, asking you if you wanted to leave.

You were about to nod when Juyeon interrupted the silence. “Minho, we haven’t been seeing you at the studio these days.”

“I’ve been busy...not really in a mood for dance.” He said, running a hand through his hair.

“You? Not in a mood for dance?” Hyunjin asked, laughing. “That’s not something you hear often.”

“Y/n, what have you been doing to him?” Rina sneered, chuckling. You were about to speak when Minho spoke up. “She didn’t do anything. What part of ‘not in the mood’ do you not understand?” He snapped.

There was silence as Rina glared at him, clenching her jaw. “Woah man, calm down. We were just joking around.” Juyeon said, sitting up.

“I’m sure you were.” Minho rolled his eyes, getting out of his chair. “Where’s the bathroom? I’m going to wash up.”

He left the room. You glanced at Rina. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Whatever.” Rina said, rolling her eyes and gathering up the plates, leaving for the kitchen with a scowl on her face.

Hyunjin cleared his throat. “Well...it was a really nice dinner.” He said awkwardly. He turned to Juyeon. “See you tomorrow, man.” He looked towards you, smiling genially. “It was nice getting to know you better, Y/n. I’m surprised Minho didn’t introduce us to each other earlier.”

You nodded, grinning at him. “Me too. Anyway, I look forward to spending more time with you.” Hyunjin winked at you. His wink wasn’t flirty like Juyeon’s but a rather friendly one.

After Hyunjin left, you decided to move to the living room, sitting on the sofa and waiting for Minho to be done so you could leave already. Juyeon was watching you, coming over and sitting opposite you on the sofa. His gaze was heavy, and you were being careful to avoid it. Juyeon was attractive, sure...but you didn’t like the way he kept constantly flirting. Wasn’t he and Rina supposed to be a thing? 

“Hmm...must be nice dating the biggest fuckboy on campus.” Juyeon laughed.

You looked at him. “Um...”

He moved uncomfortably closer, placing his hand on your thigh. “You know, you deserve a lot better.”

You shook your head, trying to get up and move away, but he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back down. His expression was angry. “Come on, Y/n...why are you rejecting me?” He asked with a puzzled expression...as if he was genuinely confused. 

You glowered at him, trying not to snap. “Because I have a fucking boyfriend?” You said, your tone icy.

Jesus, why was Minho taking so long?

His eyes widened, before he breaks into a laugh, slapping his knee as he threw his head back. You watched, brows furrowed. “Why are you laughing?”

He wiped a tear away, shoulders still shaking a lot. “I know you’re innocent...but I didn’t think you were quite this gullible.”

“What?”

He shrugged, letting go of your wrist. “Why don’t you go find your boyfriend.” He said, his voice calm.

You frowned, lifting yourself off the sofa as you made your way to the bathroom, Juyeon watching from the sofa with an amused expression.

You knocked a few times, with no answer. Pushing the door open, you found no one inside.

And that’s when you heard the moan.

Your heart beating and brain filled with white noise, you walked in the direction of the sound, your suspicions being confirmed when you saw the bedroom door ajar.

The scene inside made you feel nauseous. A terrible sense of deja vu enveloped you as you watched Rina running her hands over his chest as she sat on his lap...his shirt completely unbuttoned, the two of them making out furiously as he gripped her waist.

You hated the way your body was shaking as you watched, the two still oblivious to your presence. Your heart felt like it was crumbling.  You couldn’t help the sob that broke out of you at the sight, making them finally separate, Minho’s eyes turning to you and widening as they saw your crying face.

“Fuck you.” You managed to croak out, wrenching the necklace off your neck, throwing it at his feet and walking away, past Juyeon, avoiding eye contact. You didn’t wanna look back, didn’t wanna see his smug expression. All you were focused on was leaving that place as fast as you could.

As you half-walked, half-ran out into the night air, you swore as you realized it was raining. You could feel your makeup running down your face, the raindrops mixing with your tears.

Why did you feel so broken inside? Minho wasn’t your actual boyfriend, so it wasn’t like he’d actually cheated on you. Maybe...because somewhere deep inside, you’d stupidly thought that he actually did have feelings for you. Your conversation back home had sparked the tiniest bit of hope in you. God, you were so fucking stupid.

It was all hopeless. Fucking hopeless. You had to learn to accept that, sooner or later.

Somehow, you would.

[deztinywarriors]

The Linked Charms - Episode 5 (Multi Liverpool players)

[roman-reigns-princess]

Sugar and Spice (Roman Reigns): Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Read it on Wattpad Writing Masterlist

Summary: Aasha and Leati lives are intertwined; it began with a simple contract six years ago that led to love and romance. Although they now live together, they lead busy lives that ten to keep them apart for weeks on end.They finally get a week to themselves in one of their favourite cities, Rome, Italy. Aasha has a couple surprises prepared for Leati, but little does she know, he has a couple of huge surprises for her as well.

Warnings (for the fic over all, not specifically this chapter): cis-female OC, 18+, definitely smutty, daddy kink, schoolgirl kink(?), anal play, choking, age difference,  unprotected sex (wrap it up yall), maybe a lil bit of a breeding kink (dont @ me), possibly semi-public sex, idk if this needs a warning but I use his first name in this fic just cause i really love it?

Aasha (OFC) Face Claim: Alia Bhatt (but like thiccer, and w longer hair)

Word Count: 2813

A/N: I wanna thank @reignwithflair​ and @macfizzle​ for helpin me out w this fic, and giving me some bomb ass ideas. Legit had this fic in my drafts since like June, but thanks to them i finally got it started properly. I originally wanted it to be more focused on their sugar relationship, but i added too much romance so like idk what to even call this fic anymore im sorry yall

Tag List: @macfizzle @reignwithflair @hoodgirl163 @vivalavonvon @imagines–assemble @spidermans-l-o-v-e-r@lavitabella87 @queenreignsempire @ziasaph @vanity1385@itsnethbellins @itsilovelukehemmings@randomfandompenguin @mrsamberlopezgoodanoai @harrystacowwe@hoshithehotspur @flawlessglamazon@inkedirishbbydoll-blog-blog @miss-limited-edition @kakakatey@moneypowergloryfameliquorlove@romanxreignz @firered82 @southernbelle91@reigningxo @littledeadrottinghood @cute-face-chubby-waist @arrowtothecrown@roman-reigns-truth @romansambrose @it-is-reigning-men @fictionalabyss @cool-snowball-22-blog

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Tucking her phone and room key into her purse, Aasha made her way to the elevator to go down to the bar in the hotel. Leati's flight wouldn't land for at least another half hour, meaning he'd probably get to the hotel in an hour.

She had arrived earlier in the day, and spent most of it preparing a surprise for him, going through the internet, and asking friends who had experience; she figured she'd treat herself a little before he got here.

She'd known for a while now that Leati had a thing for the whole school girl outfit, and Aasha had  been getting more and more curious about trying anal, though she hadn't said anything about it to Leati.

Over the past month or so she had been working her way up from the smallest anal plug, looking up how to do enemas properly, and talking to experienced friends. She'd also been putting together the perfect outfit for him, choosing each article of clothing separately to fit the idea she had in mind.

However, both their schedules had been too busy and they'd barely seen each other for the past 3 weeks. They were finally getting a whole week to themselves, and Leati suggested that they spend it in Rome at the renowned Westin Excelsior.

The Westin Excelsior was a stunning hotel that stood right in the middle of Rome; the architecture reminiscent of Ancient Roman palaces. The building itself was six stories tall, with a dome on top of one corner. Leati had, as usual, booked the biggest, most luxurious suite; the Villa La Cupola took up a good portion of the fifth and sixth floor of the hotel, including the dome.

Aasha's eyes nearly popped out of her head when she first walked into their villa. The living room was huge, decorated with a beautiful fresco; the velvety red curtains hanging from the floor to ceiling windows were drawn, allowing the sun to brighten up the room and warm up the marble floors.

It had its own kitchen, dining room, studio, and even a private gym, but her favourite feature was the Roman bath style Jacuzzi on the sixth floor that led to a terrace over looking the city, with St. Peter's Basilica in the distance.

The bedroom was another work of art; the floors covered with a beige and brown carpet that had red and peach designs curling across, matching the furniture, and heavy curtains.

There was a king sized bed pushed back against the wall, positioned so that the sun lit up the pristine white sheets; it was high enough that she needed to hop up onto it. The four posts around the bed were painted a bright gold that was offset by the gold patterned red drapes hanging off of them.

The rest of the hotel was just as beautiful, with its marble flooring, and artwork. She wandered around a little, admiring the beautiful paintings, and statues that decorated the different hallways before asking one of the staff to point her in the direction of the bar.

The bar was fairly empty, with only a small group of people occupying a corner of the room. Aasha hopped up onto one of the leather clad bar stools and ordered a cherry martini from the bartender. She thanked the bartender and gave him the room number to open a tab.

As she sat at the bar enjoying her drink, her mind began to wander back a few years to when she was in a similar place, waiting to meet Leati for the first time.

Aasha sat at the table of a fancy restaurant, her delicate fingers running up and down the stem of her glass as she waited for him. She had never been this nervous before, especially since she'd never done anything like this before either.

She was barely into her first year of college, and she was switching her major to photography, something her parents were not willing to financially support. Aasha didn't want to take student loans, but fortunately, her friend had told her about the arrangement she had with her sugar daddy, and Aasha had decided to give it a shot.

She had made it explicitly clear that she wasn't willing to do anything sexual for money; coming from a religious, Indian family, she had done barely anything more than kissing. She didn't really care about waiting till marriage to have sex, but she wasn't comfortable with the idea of having her first time be with some random guy who payed her for it.

It came as quite a surprise to her when Leati contacted her. She'd expected him to be less attractive, and much older than he was; granted he was about 10 years older than her, but he was only in his late 20s.

He had given her basic information about himself, and what he would want out of an arrangement, and they had agreed to meet face to face before finalizing anything. He was one of the founders of a major security company that often provided bodyguards to the highest ranking people, and he simply wanted someone to attend work functions with him without the hassle or drama of courting someone.

She was so lost in her thoughts that when a large hand gently gripped her shoulder she jumped, nearly knocking her virgin strawberry daiquiri over in the process; she looked up at the owner to find Leati Anoa'i looking down at her.

"Hi, you must be Aasha, I'm Leati," he said, flashing her a smile.

Her lips parted a little as her eyes drank him in, he was even more beautiful in real life, and certainly more intimidating if he wasn't smiling. He wore a grey suit with a red tie, his hair was slicked back into a bun, and he was clean shaven except for his mustache and goatee.

She blinked a couple times before realizing she was staring at him, she hurriedly stood up and held out her hand, a blush spread across her face as it finally occurred to her that she had no idea what she was supposed to do.

"I-um, yeah-it's good to meet you," she stuttered, biting the inside of her cheek for that. Her face turned redder as he chuckled and gently wrapped his hand around her fingers and pressed a light kiss on her knuckles.

"Pleasure's all mine, babygirl," he replied, letting go of her hand so they could both take a seat. "So, what would you like to eat?"

They spent the rest of the evening talking, and getting to know each other. He was one of three of the major owners of the company, he lived in Tampa about 45 minutes away from her, and he traveled a lot. By the end of the night, Aasha was relaxed, and comfortable enough around him to explain what she wanted, and what she was willing to do.

They didn't have any clashing needs, and he was more than happy to tell her that he'd draw up an agreement as soon as possible for the both of them to sign. He didn't seem to care that she wanted to keep their relationship platonic, but he did say once that if she wanted to go further he wouldn't be opposed to it.

Setting down her empty glass, she left a generous tip for the bartender, and slowly began to make her way back up to the room.

Over time her and Leati's relationship had evolved. They had become good friends, and she stuck with him through two attempted hostile takeovers by his partners even when he tried telling her he didn't want her caught up in that. He started bringing her to family gatherings, stating that he wanted his mother to stop bugging him about settling down. She got to know his family, his twin cousins who became his new partners, and even became close friends with his sister-in-laws, Trinity and Kecia.

As they spent more time together, she started to develop feelings for Leati, but her fear of rejection kept her silent, until one day she got a little too tipsy at an event and ended up confessing to him in the car.

Leati had a firm grip on Aasha's waist as they made their way down the steps of the hotel; he was glowering from the incident moments ago, one hand clenched into a fist at his side. Aasha couldn't help the shiver of fear that ran through her when she looked up at him, the only other time she'd seen him this angry was when Colby tried to wrest the company from Leati.

She'd known that this conference was a bad idea, she tried telling Leati that the McMahons would probably send Lopez as their representative to hopefully throw him off or simply to sew discord, but Leati's stubborn Italian pride wouldn't let him back down from this. To his credit, he managed to keep a lid on his emotions for most of the conference, that is until the farewell dinner.

Leati had left her alone momentarily to go to the restroom, which gave Colby the opportunity to slink up to her with that typical half smirk etched into his face. She gave him a polite smile and took a large sip of her champagne, not wanting to stir up any shit when they were so close to leaving.

"It's been too long, Aasha, you're looking good," she cringed as Colby's eyes took their time looking her over. "We never talk anymore, not even a Happy New Year text?"

"That's your own fault, Lopez," she glared at him, she wanted to get up and leave but there were people standing around the table, blocking her off; the only exit was past the man leering at her. "No one forced you to stab us-him in the back."

"Us? Did you guys finally hook up? Or is it still purely platonic?" he scoffed, not even bothering to acknowledge everything else she'd said.

"N-no, we're just good friends, something you obviously know nothing about," she bit back, taking another gulp of her drink.

"So you're not off the market? Cause I assure you, I can be a very good friend," Colby's smirk widened into a malicious smile as he leaned in, a hand coming to rest on her bare knee. She recoiled with disgust, ready to throw her drink in his face when she felt a  larger hand grab her arm, pulling her up and away from him.

She looked up to see Leati glaring at his former partner; Colby had the good sense to look somewhat scared as he stood up and subtly tried to back away. For each step he took back, the large Samoan took two forward.

"Hey, hey, listen, he's not worth it, let's just leave," Aasha pleaded, tugging at his arm. She tried not to shiver as he looked at her, his infamous volcanic rage simmering in his eyes. "Please."

"Fine," he said, giving Lopez one last scathing look before turning on his heel to march off with his arm around Aasha's waist. She texted the driver to meet them at the front as they made their way through the halls of the hotel.

They came to a stop at the entrance, waiting for the driver to pull up with their limo. Aasha turned to Leati, unbuttoning his jacket to slide her arms around him as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. A startled sound bubbled in his throat, but he hugged her back, kissing the top of her head. They stayed like that until the car drove up.

"I'm sorry," Leati said as he settled in next to her; she looked up at him in surprise. "I know you hate it when I get mad, I just couldn't stand the fact that he put his hands on you, I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, it's okay, you could never scare me, it was actually kinda hot," she mumbled the last part, her face heating up at the confession. She buried her face in his shoulder when his serious expression turned into a smirk. She arched into him as he slid a hand up her spine to grab her hair and pull her head back.

"You think it's hot?" he asked, a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he leaned in closer so that his face was inches from hers. "I-"

She cut him off with a kiss, her hands grabbing his shoulders to pull him closer. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her onto him so that she was straddling his lap. She teasingly bit his lip, eliciting a deep growl from him. She pulled away to look up at him, the both of them panting a little as they stared at each other wide eyed.

"I think I love you," she blurted.

Aasha chuckled at the memory as she walked into the VIlla; back then she had been mortified, but thinking back to it now it seemed rather funny.

Glancing at her phone she saw that she had 40 more minutes till Leati got there. It would be just enough time to shower, and finish the final steps for her surprise. She took a quick 15 minute shower, then hopped out to grab the lube and one of her plugs. She decided to go with one of the smaller ones with a pink diamond on the top because she didn't want to deal with any discomfort.

After working it in, she left the lube in the drawer of a nightstand by the bed, slipped on a shorter baby pink silk robe, and went back to the bathroom to dry off her hair. She finished just in time to hear the door to the Villa opening and closing.

"Aasha?" Her face lit up as she heard Leati's deep voice. She let out a shriek of happiness, rushing out of the bathroom to find him setting his bags down in the bedroom. She practically jumped into his arms, making him laugh as he picked her up with one arm; much to her delight he had grown his beard out, but it also tickled her skin as he buried his face in her neck. "I missed you too, babe."

"God you look so good, it feels like it's been forever, I hate being apart for that long, promise me we won't have to spend more than a week apart again, Lea," she mumbled, giving him a deep kiss to show him just how much she missed him; his chest rumbled against her as he chuckled at the nickname she'd used.

"I dunno if I can promise that, but I'm sure if you gave the Board a good talkin to, they'll see things your way," he joked, walking to the bed to set her down. She pulled back to give him a mock glare before grabbing the front of his shirt to bring him in for another kiss.

His large hands roamed over her thighs, pushing up her robe as he massaged her soft skin; her own hands were busy rediscovering his strong chest, enjoying the warmth that she had desperately missed over the past few weeks, when he pushed her back with a quick shove before dropping to his knees to push her legs apart. She was about to let him when she remembered that she'd prepared surprises for him.

"Wait! No, I, uh," she said, hurriedly sitting up and clamping her legs shut. Leati gave her the cutest pout as he stood up. "I'm sorry, its just I got you a couple surprises but I haven't finished putting them together. Why don't you go take a shower, I'll be done by then."

"I GUESS I can wait a little while longer," he sighed dramatically, giving her a kiss and a grin. "You better be done by the time I'm out, cause I'll fuck you right where you stand, got it?"

"Yes, Daddy," she said with a cheeky smirk as she pushed him towards the bathroom. He gave her one last kiss, and landed a smack on her ass before walking into the shower.

Aasha dug through her bag, pulling on the outfit she had put together; a white button up shirt tucked into a flow-y black skirt that barely covered her ass, white thigh high socks held up by black thigh garters, and a loosely tied black tie. She could hear her boyfriend getting out of the shower and turning on the hair dryer which gave her just enough time to brush her own hair out and pull it up into two ponytails.

She just finished tucking her brush away, and unbuttoning the top 3 buttons of her shirt when the bathroom door opened and out stepped Leati in nothing but a towel.

[papermoonloveslucy]

LUCILLE BALL DUSTS OFF HER SLAPSTICK

by Aljean Harmetz for The New York Times, August 3, 1986

On Stage 1 at the old Samuel Goldwyn studio on a hot day in the middle of last month, Lucille Ball came back. Barking the familiar laugh that blends a strangling Airedale with a porpoise, mugging for assistant directors and stagehands who weren't even born when ''I Love Lucy'' went on the air in 1951, Lucille Ball came back to weekly television - 12 years after she left it.

Whether she was named Lucy Ricardo or Lucy Carmichael or Lucy Carter, whether she was the daffy housewife pinned to her kitchen wall by a loaf of homemade bread or the wacky widow wheedling a different sort of dough from a sour-faced banker, Lucille Ball was the queen of slapstick television comedy from 1951 to 1974. Now, a few weeks away from her 75th birthday, she is waiting to slide across a hardware store on a wheeled ladder in the first episode of a new series, ''Life With Lucy.'' It will be shown Saturday nights at 8 on ABC, starting in late September.

This time, she is Lucy Barker, a widow and a grandmother. In the initial episode, she moves into the Pasadena home of her daughter and son-in-law and her two grandchildren and takes over half-ownership of a hardware store run by the fuddy-duddy father of her son-in-law. He is, of course, played by Gale Gordon, her employer and comedic nemesis on ''The Lucy Show'' and ''Here's Lucy.'' During the past few years, Mr. Gordon, who is 80, has been traipsing around the country performing in musical comedies.

Industry observers have serious doubts that ''Life With Lucy'' will succeed. In a recent printed forecast, Joel Segal, vice president and a buyer of commercials on prime-time television programs for the Ted Bates Advertising Agency, said that Miss Ball is ''a broad physical comedienne who may have some difficulty doing boffo comedy in the midst of her eighth decade.''

''Everyone predicted 'I Love Lucy' would be a flop,'' says Bob Carroll, unconcernedly. Mr. Carroll and his partner, Madelyn Davis, have been writing for Lucille Ball for 38 years, since her radio show, ''My Favorite Husband,'' in 1948. More recently, the team spent eight years as executive producers of the CBS situation comedy ''Alice.''

Just today, Mr. Carroll and Miss Davis have discovered there is a pit under Stage 1. ''So, we can have something where Lucy goes through a tarp into the basement,'' says Miss Davis with delight. 

When ''Life With Lucy'' was being planned this past spring, Miss Davis did offer one concession to Miss Ball's age. ''I said, 'We won't fly you,' '' says Miss Davis, referring to putting a wire on an actor so he can do stunts. Miss Ball's answer: ''Oh, I can fly!'' 

At first glance, at least, Miss Ball seems to be remarkably agile and limber. ''I'm not dropping out of an airplane or jumping up and down on a trampoline this first show,'' she says. ''But the Lucy character is the same as ever. To her, nothing is impossible. She's going for it. This show is Lucy at another time in her life.'' And, indeed, as in all her earlier series, Miss Ball will be the centerpiece of every episode.

Wearing an over-sized yellow shirt over white slacks, with a gold print scarf tied loosely at her throat, Miss Ball is eating lunch in a huge dressing-room suite that her husband, Gary Morton, has already spent a week making homey. Although, to television audiences, she is indelibly married to Desi Arnaz - it was a national event when their son, Ricky Ricardo, was born on ''I Love Lucy'' in 1953 - she was divorced from Mr. Arnaz some 28 years ago and has been married to Mr. Morton, a comedian and producer, for nearly 25 years.

The walls are full of pictures Mr. Morton has hung, including a poster for Miss Ball's 1974 movie - her last movie - ''Mame.'' Oddly, it was at this studio that her film career began in 1933. She was a ''Goldwyn Girl,'' a long-legged showgirl, in ''Roman Scandals,'' starring Eddie Cantor.

There is no single reason why she has returned to the grind of weekly television. ''We went to Florida last year and did seminars, and people kept saying, 'Please come back, please come back,' and we started thinking about it,'' says Mr. Morton. ''She was bored,'' says Madelyn Davis. ''Lucy doesn't want to sit at home in a rocking chair, going through her scrapbooks.''

Certainly, money was not the lure. Miss Ball and Mr. Arnaz were the first television stars to put their series on enduring film instead of impermanent kinescope, and some old ''Lucy'' show is being run on some television channel somewhere on any given day. Since CBS refused to allow Miss Ball and Mr. Arnaz to film in front of a audience, they decided in 1951 to borrow $5,000 and create their own space in which to film their pilot live. ''That's how we came to own the show,'' Miss Ball says 35 years later, and there is still a tinge of wonder in her voice. 

She paints her lips into a huge cupid's bow and tosses the familiar red hair. ''I've missed doing a television series,'' she says. ''I didn't realize it until two or three years ago, after I had paid back all the guest appearances to Carol Burnett and Bob Hope and the others, all the promises I had made, all the charity I had to catch up on.'' 

But there was a psychological barrier to overcome. ''I missed Viv so much. And I couldn't bear the thought of going on without her,'' Miss Ball says. Vivian Vance, who died in 1979, had been Miss Ball's friend and partner-in-mischief on all the ''Lucy'' series. On ''Life With Lucy,'' Lucy Barker will be provided with no woman friend or confidante. Miss Ball pushes the idea away with her hands. ''No way, no way,'' she says. ''That's one thing I draw the line on.'' She says she decided to go for a new series because, with ''The Bill Cosby Show,'' ''the cycle for this sort of thing, family  shows, came around again. I wouldn't have to do a pilot. And Gale was available and so were my writers. Gale is the strength, the one I upset so he can hardly stand it and he recoils comedically. Hopefully, we'll find plenty for him to bluster about.'' (1)

As always, Lucille Ball has creative control. ''Young network executives are not going to walk in and tell Lucy what's funny,'' says Mr. Morton. The series is a co-venture of Lucille Ball Productions and Aaron Spelling Productions. It was Mr. Spelling who got Miss Ball excited -''like a war horse,'' he says - about doing another series. And it was Mr. Spelling who made ABC commit to a firm order for 22 episodes, an unusually high number nowadays (2). ''I'm sick of this prejudgment by age,'' he says. ''Does Bob Hope work? Does George Burns work?''

Across the television dial from ''Life With Lucy,'' at 9 P.M., on NBC's ''Golden Girls,'' the dialogue is crammed with sexual jokes and middle-aged widows bring men home to bed. Although Miss Davis speaks of ''Life With Lucy'' as ''vintage Lucy turned into a today's woman,'' the show will have no sexual humor. ''She's never cared for that,'' says Miss Davis. Instead, according to Miss Ball, ''one premise will be my first date since my husband died, with a mother-daughter switch, the daughter worrying when her mother doesn't get home on time.''

By ''bringing the Lucy character up to date,'' Miss Ball and Miss Davis mean that ''Life With Lucy'' will provide a stronger, less-dependent Lucy. ''She was always kind of childlike,'' says Miss Davis, ''afraid of her husband's disapproval, saying, 'Ricky will kill me!' We wouldn't do that today. She's into jogging and health foods, a grandmother and not a scatterbrained wife. She's gotten a little smarter through the years, and a little more worldly. In several scripts she says things like, 'Why am I clinging to the past?' And she tries to see things through her grandchildren's eyes.''

''Lucy is not as dependent on anyone, except under the blowtorch of Gale,'' says Miss Ball. ''I go into the hardware store and re-arrange everything alphabetically and give them apoplexy.'' 

She is standing inside the hardware-store set on Stage 1, waiting to rehearse among the rakes and hoses and bins of plastic tubing. The two young children who play her grandchildren pass the time by playing with flashlights on an open shelf. When the rehearsal begins, they come too tentatively into the shop. Told to walk faster, they are still too slow. Patiently, Miss Ball takes them by the hand and demonstrates. She bursts into the shop, shouting ''Grandpa!''

The hardware store was her idea. ''It gives us a lot of gadgets to work with,'' she says, grinning.

In the first show, she fights with a defective fire extinguisher. The following week, the problems will be with a guard goose. (3) ''She doesn't mind working with animals,'' says Miss Davis. ''We've had her with three sheep, a chimp and an elephant, and milking a cow.'' (4)  Eventually, she will convince Mr. Gordon to put his inventory on a computer and will manage to erase it. And there is always that sliding ladder.

There is also sleight of mind. ''We didn't have as much physical comedy as you think,'' says Mr. Carroll of the old ''Lucy'' shows. ''She wore funny outfits and was in funny situations - out on a ledge with pigeons on her head.'' (5)

In equivalent ''Life With Lucy'' scenes, she will drink a health-food concoction and turn as rubbery as an octopus. Or, in classic ''Lucy'' style, she will get her hand stuck in a saxophone. The sax is sitting on a desk in her dressing room. She really plays, although badly. In her spare moments, she is trying to strengthen her lips so she can struggle through the whole ''Marines' Hymn'' for a scene with a high-school band in a future show.

During one of the endless waits between scenes, Miss Ball's chair becomes surrounded by crew members eager to listen. ''What are you going to do now, Director Man?'' she teases Peter Baldwin. A few moments later, Mr. Baldwin tells her to deliver a line from the third step of the stairs of the three-story gabled stage house. Instantly, Miss Ball decides that the line works more amusingly from the bottom step instead. ''You don't give a chance for a laugh, if you don't wait,'' she explains to the director who is 25 years her junior.

''I didn't expect it to last,'' Miss Ball said later of ''I Love Lucy.'' ''Nobody wanted me to go into television. Everybody at Metro [M-G-M], where I was under contract, said I was out of my mind. And then, when Desi and I went on a tour and there were 5,000 people outside a steel fence at the Miami Airport and they trampled it, and people knocked down a plate-glass window at the lobby of one hotel - we didn't know what was happening.'' (6)

That was a long time ago. Today is a different country. Will re-cycled ''Lucy'' seem old-fashioned? (7)

While Miss Ball and her husband were wavering, a friend pushed them over the edge to ''Life With Lucy.'' ''Why not?'' the friend told them. ''You have nothing to lose.'' Whatever happens, says Mr. Morton, is ''icing on the cake.''

FOOTNOTES aka HINDSIGHT IS 20/20

(1) Although Lucille did not want a female co-star, the final episode aired featured Audrey Meadows as Lucy’s sister. Critics remarked on their comic chemistry and theorized that had Meadows been a regular cast member the show might have stood a chance. Too little, too late. 

(2) The series order was reduced to 13, with only 8 episodes airing. A 14th was being plan when the ax fell. 

(3) “Lucy and the Guard Goose” was filmed second, but was replaced with “Lucy Makes a Hit With John Ritter” to boost ratings with a guest star. “Lucy and the Guard Goose” was moved to episode 9, but the show was cancelled after episode 8 on November 15, 1986, and “Guard Goose” went un-aired. Ironically, a clip of the episode featuring the goose was already part of the opening credit sequence, leaving viewers wondering “what’s with the goose?” 

(4) Madelyn Martin is under-rating Lucy’s experience with animals. On “The Lucy Show” there was a pen full of sheep, not just three. On television alone, Ball has worked with seven chimps, three elephants, and milked two cows! This in addition to other animals of almost every description. 

(5) Carroll is referring to “Lucy and Superman” (1956) where Lucy Ricardo impersonates the Man of Steel to surprise her son, making her entrance through a window populated by pigeons. 

(6) Ball is remembering an experience in November 1956 when Lucy and Desi visited Miami in advance of their setting several episodes of “I Love Lucy”.

(7) Very quickly it became apparent that the answer was “no” - America and the critics did not embrace “Life With Lucy”, which was cancelled after eight episodes, much to the dismay of Ball, who was devastated by its failure. 

[The article’s text has been reprinted verbatim. The images have been added to enhance the reading experience. Some images property of Getty Images Inc.]

[finn-nelson-for-the-win]

"You Look Really Good Today!”

A/N: Hello there! So I wrote this and had it sitting in the Notes on my phone weeks before I ever posted any of my writing here on Tumblr, but I rather enjoyed this and even though it didn’t fit into the other plot line as smoothly as I would have hoped, I still thought it needed to see the light of day, so I decided to post it all on its lonesome as a one shot. I didn’t tag anyone unless you explicitly requested I do so, but if you want me to add you to my “forever tag” list for any of my future fics I post, just let me know! I hope you enjoy! 😁❤️

“Holy fuck! My hair is purple!!!”

Rae stood in front of her full-length mirror wearing her favorite multi-colored dressing gown as she continued to run her fingers through her hair, trying to become more accustomed to how it looked today.

Well of course your hair is purple, you div, you dyed it purple almost a week ago!

Rae’s mass of long, wavy-curly hair was straightened today and did indeed look much purpler than it usually did. When Rae’s hair was left to be naturally curly, the purple was very subtle and blended into the portions of her hair she had kept her natural dark brown shade and only appeared to be purple when you looked at it very closely or when the sunlight hit it just right; however, today there was no denying that her hair that went down past her waist was in fact very purple, regardless of the lighting she is in.

Shit, it’s already past 7am! I need to finish getting dressed or I’ll be late to work!

Rae stared at the dress on the hanger, suddenly second-guessing her decision to wear this dress to work. Rae purchased the dress on a whim the last time she was at the shops because: 1) it fit well and made her boobs look amazing and 2) Rae had developed somewhat of an alter ego after dying her hair purple and this alter ego was much more confident and impulsive than the real Rae.

Well, here goes nothing…

Rae gently removed the dress from its hanger, turning away from her full-length mirror as she untied her dressing gown and let it fall to the ground, and she began putting the dress on. She adjusted the material of the dress so the scoop neck showed off just enough cleavage without being inappropriate and she proceeded to fiddle with various areas of the dress to ensure that it sat properly on her body and was as flattering as possible.

The soft cotton material of the dress stretched over Rae’s chest and flared out slightly below the bust to hang delicately over her hips and stomach without drawing unnecessary attention to her least favorite parts of her body. Rae looked at the way the sleeveless scoop neck top on the dress landed at just the right place on her shoulders to show off her collarbone and the freckles that formed a triangular pattern on her left shoulder. As Rae turned around to look at the dress from behind, she blushed slightly at how much skin she was showing because the cross-back design of the dress left a large portion of her back exposed. She knew that this dress could be a little too provocative and casual for her business casual work dress code, but she decided that the black cardigan she was going to pair with her dress would make her outfit more suitable for work.

Rae playfully swiveled her hips to watch the flowy fabric move fluidly with her movements before taking notice of just how short the dress really was.

Rae was accustomed to wearing jeans and leggings on a regular basis and she could not recall the last time she had worn a dress—let alone one as short as this dress that showed this much skin. When the fabric stilled after Rae stopped moving, she looked closely at the skin of her legs from mid-thigh where this dress hit to her feet that were still bare, taking notice of the assortment of scars of varying age scattered across her legs.

The scar just behind her left knee where she had nicked herself much worse than she had thought while shaving in the shower a few short months ago.

Numerous nearly faded scars on her knees and shins from when she was a clumsy and careless child who felt invincible and happy to be alive.

…And then there were the scars Rae was not as proud of; Scars of varying age and color that had been self-inflicted.

For 15 years of Rae’s life, the insatiable itch Rae felt when her anxiety would get the better of her caused Rae to develop a bad habit of scratching and hurting herself. Whether consciously or subconsciously, Rae found herself almost constantly scratching at any exposed skin and she took a sick satisfaction in the pain and the sight of blood drawing to the surface of her skin from the scratches and wounds.

It used to make Rae feel in control…but now she hates herself afterwards and realizes that the abundance of scars on her arms were the reason for the stares of pity and judgement she often got, although few people have ever had the nerve to ask her about them.

The plethora of scars that were visible below the hem of the dress from Rae’s mid-thigh down were much more noticeable against the soft and pale pink skin of her legs, and as she examined her outfit in her full-length mirror, they were all should could focus on.

Well, maybe I can put on some tights or leggings under the dress to cover them…

It was the still uncharacteristically hot to be the beginning of October and as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it would not be worth the discomfort and excessive heat of an additional layer of clothing.

Rae shrugged and sighed, knowing that there was nothing else she could do to hide her scars but still wanting to wear this dress that was otherwise incredibly flattering.

You can do this Rae! You are beautiful and perfect just the way you are and anyone who can’t see that can fuck off…

Rae had come very far recently and was not harming herself as often and she was making a lot of progress towards accepting her body and every lump, bump, roll, stretch mark, and imperfection that comes with it.

She has also continued to become more confident in who she is as she has continued to get more piercings and dye her hair over the last year, and she knew that wearing this dress to work was a massive step in the right direction for her.

Admit it Rae, this dress looks like it was made to fit your body and accentuate your best assets—boobs and bum.

And…maybe you’ll attract the attention of a certain fit boy today…

Rae smirked and blushed at the thought of the boy she had been lusting after lately taking an interest in the way her dress hugged her curves just right. She had been talking to him a lot more recently and hoped that she could catch his eye today and it could be the push necessary to move their relationship into more romantic territory.

Rae smiled as she sat down at the chair in front of her desk to apply a bit of makeup to complete her look for the day. Rae seldom wore makeup except for on certain occasions when she wanted to boost her confidence a bit more, and she figured that today qualified as one of those days.

Rae tight-lined her eyes with her favorite purple eyeliner pencil and applied a quick swipe of mascara to help draw attention to her eyes. Rae was reaching to grab her go-to sheer tinted lip balm that she normally wore when she noticed a new lipstick shade she had purchased on a whim.

Rae was already pushing the boundaries of her comfort zone with the short dress she was wearing, but now that she was almost done getting ready for work her confidence was soaring and she figured that today was as good a day as any to finally try out this deep burgundy lipstick shade. Rae applied the liquid lipstick to her plump lips with the applicator wand and allowed the lipstick to set and mattify.

She chanced a quick glance at the alarm clock on her nightstand and noticed that she was still on time, but just barely. Rae quickly unplugged her cellphone from the charger and placed it into her purse. She stood in front of the full-length mirror yet again, taking in her entire outfit from her long, silky purple hair and bold lipstick to her subtly sexy dress and her favorite maroon converse sneakers.

“It’s fucking embarrassing how good I look some days” Rae said her daily mantra aloud before hurrying out of her apartment, locking her front door behind her.

As Rae walked to work, she tried to ignore the feelings of doubt and insecurity creeping in when she became hyperaware of the stares and glances from the people driving down the street beside her. When she walked into the building where she works, Rae headed into the Women’s washroom to give herself a final once over and a much needed pep talk.

With her confidence restored, Rae walked through the door to the office and scanned her badge at the small machine on the wall.

“Hey Rae! How are you today?”

Here’s your chance, Rae! The fit boy you’ve been obsessing over since you first met him is standing next to you and talking to you. Don’t fuck it up!

“I’m good, thanks. How are you?” Rae asked, surprised that her tone was more girly and flirty than she had ever heard her own voice be. She wouldn’t have been surprised if she followed that up a giggle and twirling her hair around one finger, which she did not do, luckily.

You are not Chloe…just be yourself Rae.

“I’m good too, thanks! I’m just gonna get to work now…”

He walked to the opposite side of the office building from where Rae worked to sit down in his desk and get to work.

Rae had put in extra effort to look good today and try to catch his attention, and he didn’t even seem to notice the changes in her attire or really make an effort to make conversation at all.

Well fuck you too, Andrew!

Rae rolled her eyes and continued walking towards the area of the office she worked in.

“Good morning, Rachel! Your hair looks nice today!” Daniel, Rae’s boss, said as he gave her a high-five as he did with all of her coworkers when he greeted them every morning.

“Thanks. I just wanted to try something kind of new…”

She continued walking towards the desk at the end of the aisle that she sat at on an almost daily basis for the two weeks she had been working here; however she soon realized one of her coworkers was staring at her as she walked toward him.

Do I know him..? He’s certainly staring at me like he knows me…but I don’t think I even know his name.

She risked a quick glance at the laminated name tag affixed to the top on one of his computer monitors.

Well then, Finn Nelson…why the fuck are you staring at me like that?

“Can ya stop staring at me? It’s freaking me out…” she muttered in his direction, not willing to make direct eye contact with him.

She noticed Finn blush slightly when he realized that he had been caught staring at her as he appraised the stunning girl walking towards him before quickly clearing his throat to be able to explain himself.

“Oh, umm…sorry, it’s just that…Wow, you look really good today, Rae!”

Rae stopped dead in her tracks trying to process what he just said.

Holy fuck, is it just me or did he sound nervous almost? And wait a second…how the fuck does he know my name when up until about 2 minutes ago I didn’t even know he worked here?!

Rae had zoned out from overthinking and had to shake her head somewhat to come back to reality when she realized how long she had been standing there staring at this attractive man who was now grinning at her.

HOLY SHIT HE’S STILL LOOKING AT ME! Ok, Rae, you can do this…Just say the first, least twattish thing that comes to mind…

“And you sound surprised, why?” Rae replied, raising her eyebrows and smirking before turning to take a seat on the opposite side of the aisle from Finn while he sat frozen in his desk chair with a look on his face that appeared to be equal parts intrigued and impressed. As she faced her computer screen, she realized exactly what she had said and was just as shocked at the sudden cockiness that she had to attribute to her purple-haired alter ego.

WHERE THE FUCK DID THAT SUDDEN BURST OF CONFIDENCE COME FROM, RAE?

***

“And you sound surprised, why?”

Chop was already logged into his computer and was checking his email while he only vaguely paid attention to the conversation unfolding around him; however, his attention was piqued when when he heard his mate that was sitting at the desk to his left gulp audibly and choke out an unusual sound that could best be described as part squeak, part gasp.

Trying to hold back a laugh until he knew the context that warranted his friend to make that particular sound, he turned around in his desk chair as soon as he finished reading the email he had started to face his mate.

“Oi, Finney boy! What was that all about? And what—or should I say who—are ya starin’ at? You’re practically drooling…” Chop asked when he looked over to see his mate’s jaw still hanging open and his eyes fixed on the curvy girl with vibrant purple hair facing away from the two lads as she logged into her computer on the opposite side of the aisle of desks.

Finn did not refocus his attention away from this girl, but he reached up and placed his hand on his friend’s left arm, absentmindedly squeezing his mate’s bicep a little too forcefully.

“Chopper…this lass…” he looked to meet the eyes of his mate who had a confused look on his face before proceeding, “I think I’m in love?”

Finn chuckled nervously but a wide, toothy grin spread across Chop’s face as he picked up on the undeniable tone of sincerity in his mate’s voice.

@eveerez @lurkernolonger @tinakegg

(Ok, this is totally random, but in AUs like this where the characters are based partially on someone else, do you guys ever try to piece together what this person is supposed to look like or do you just kind of roll with the story and have a rough basis of what everyone looks like? I’m just curious because Rae definitely does not have purple, curly hair…but I do…so I almost always base my “Rae” on me, and I’m decently sure that none of you know what I actually look like aside from the little bits and pieces I mention in my writing hahaha 😅 sorry, I’m probably a little too tipsy to be writing right now, but alas, here I am!)

[fattyinthetrenches]

A Note About Confidence

When I was a freshman in High School, about 14 years old, my mother took me shopping. I didn’t have many friends my own age that I went shopping with, so from about the age of 10 to 16 or so I just wore the petite versions of whatever my mother purchased. Business casual, standard sweaters and graphic tees, always tailored the same way. No babydoll tops or cold shoulders, none of the shrunken crinkle shirts that were a fad for about a year in the early ‘oughts.

We shopped in Women’s Petite in Kohl’s, Christopher and Banks- and later, CJ Banks (the plus size version), Coldwater Creek. These places defined my style. It was easy, it was convenient. I was always embarrassed to ask for the things I really wanted. Strappy tanks and distressed jeans, boho-chic that has always had a place in my heart even though I dressed for a day at the “office.” At twelve.

Well, when I was a freshman I got an Easter outfit that I loved. A light pink, daintily floral skirt with an exact pattern matched top. Granted, it probably wasn’t the best choice for my body at the time, one that had always been a little heavier but was now changing with the onslaught of hormones, but I loved it. I wore the pieces separately and together, to school, to church, to a “girl’s night out” viewing of “Ice Princess” (remember that one?) It was my first “power outfit.” I felt beautiful and feminine and strong. I felt good.

I wore both pieces to school one day. I probably wanted to impress a boy, or a potential friend, or I had send it in my closet and wanted to feel good. So I put it on. As I stood at my locker, an acquaintance I had known for some time approached me and leaned on the locker next to mine. I knew this girl from church, I had seen her at least once a week since we were 6. We weren’t friends, but we were friendly, and I respected her. I turned to her, smiling, and said hello.

She said, “Didn’t anyone tell you not to match patterns like that? Also, the pink makes you look like a pig. Just saying.”

Crushed is not the right word to describe how I felt. I don’t remember what I said, if anything. I don’t remember what I did for the rest of the day. I don’t remember much of anything, but I do remember these things:

I remember her cadence. Cruel and pointed.

I remember her expression. Full of disgust and and odd pity.

I remember her words, as clear and easily repeated as my own address or phone number.

I remember my heart. How it sank, how it seemed to flow out of my shoes and onto the tile.

I didn’t know that that moment would define the way I looked at clothes for years to come. I had questionable fashion moments, as we all did in high school, and some of them I can recall comically. But they were mostly agonizing. Going to school in something I thought was safe, then being called out on it- I couldn’t bear it. I would often hide away on those days, in a back stairwell or corner of the library, hiding the shame of my terrible outfit on my terrible body so no one would have to look.

In my Junior year I began dating one of my very good friends. We were two of a quintet of friends, four of whom were boys. I was the odd one out in more ways than my chromosomes, I was also the only one overweight.

We flirted with the idea of sex, having endless conversations about what it might be like, what we wanted to experience, how we wanted our first time to be. Never braving the act, but talking about everything you could imagine. Except my weight. When I finally brought it up to him, he tried to assure me that he would love me no matter what, and it didn’t matter. He thought I was beautiful. So I decided to experiment.

As an art student I spent a lot of time drawing bodies. I tried to branch out, but my favorite studies were of plus size women. I loved the curves and soft shadows, I found them easy and fulfilling to sketch. So I did something else we had talked about but never done, I showed him my private sketchbook.

Pure. Revulsion.

Now, ten years later, and nine years removed from him and that group of friends, I know that he was in the wrong. Intellectually I know that he has no power, and should have no power. Just as my acquaintance’s comment should also have and maintain no power over me. But these were both places in which I had felt safety, in which I thought I had felt love, and was turned away in pure disgust.

I had lost 20 lbs in my sophomore year of high school and I was feeling so successful. I had rushed out of the house that morning and was feeling very hungry, so I asked the teacher I was aiding if I could get a granola bar from the vending machine. It was between classes so I thought no one would be down there. I was wrong.

Two boys I did not know nor had ever seen before were there. I kept my head down, arms in, gaze away. Most women know this stance, especially plus size women. Attempting to take up as little room as possible, to become invisible if need be.

Boy 1 “Hey.” Me “What?” Boy 1 “What should I get from the vending machine?” M “I don’t know.” B 1 “Which one’s the best?” M “I-” Boy 2 “She can’t choose. She probably eats every single one of them every single day.”

That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard, and it still makes me cry to remember it.

I’ve made a lot of changes in my life recently. In my fashion and lifestyle, in my attitude, in my friends. A year ago, six months ago, three months ago- things were so much different. All of the changes have been good. Necessary. I’m moving forward.

But the further forward I go, the further back I look, and the more I want to tell my younger self it’s okay.

It’s okay to love that outfit It’s okay to love your body It’s okay to ignore the stupid and thoughtless.

But I can’t. I have to settle for telling myself these things. Every day, at every turn, at every block or bump or change.

It’s okay. To have confidence. To love yourself. To love your life. To love.

It’s okay.

It’s okay to remember, just don’t forget.

It’s. Okay.