#i have no idea what the date was but it was probably august? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

threeacttragedy · 19 days ago

Text

Entry 14 – The One Where They Call It Chaotic but We Call it Predictable

<blip>

<blip-blip>

<blip>

Yes, I am fully aware my entries have been sparse of late, and, no, I am not planning to stop my general Lukola ramblings any time soon. In fact, once I run out of material, I’ll probably dabble with fan fiction because, meh, why the hell not? Any ways, the reason for my slight absence is that I’ve had a special guest staying at my house – one by the name of “Dad.” Yes, that dapper gentleman has been roosting on my porch for the past few weeks (because that’s the only place I allow him to smoke), drinking an ungodly amount of Coca-Cola and holding my shih tzu like she’s a human baby. He did pry himself away long enough to be my date to see “Wicked” (he loved it, by the way). Oh, and he was obliged to my incessant babblings about Lukola. In fact, he even opened my mind to a few theories of his own and made me laugh hysterically at his reaction to the Jakolas.

It has always been my intention to delve into a certain section of our timeline – the part where Luke seemingly ran off into the Summertime Sunset with his friend group, which included Antonia. That period in time is the cavity of my Lukola table puzzle. The left side isn’t connecting to the right side because there’s this gaping hole in the center called Hot Boy Fucking Summer! Before June 12, things made sense to me. Even with the muck we find ourselves in now, just about everything after July 30 has made sense to me. So, of course, Hot Boy Summer was a topic of discussion with my dad. Actually, it was an “all afternoon” one.

I originally presented the Before, During, and After of Hot Boy Summer in chronological order to my dad only to get blasted with, “Stop doing that shit!” after I mentioned “Bless the Telephone.” His gripe was that – like the Claddagh ring – I had failed to disclose to him information that may alter his opinion about the event for which we were theorizing. Specifically, if I knew that the Claddagh ring preceded June 12 and I knew Nicola’s aptly named “Chaos Week” followed July 30, then disclosing those details to him before asking him to theorize about what happened in between those two dates (i.e., Hot Boy Summer) was necessary and even critical to his final opinion.

I don’t believe there is much explaining to do on the front-end of Hot Boy Summer – at least not to my well-versed Lukolas. We presumably all watched the same World Tour (including that trip over to Galway so Luke could meet Nicola’s mother) and I’ve already discussed the Claddagh ring in Entry 6 of my blog. That leaves us with the tail-end of Luke’s summertime jaunt, which steers us into Chaos Week. For those of you who thought I was going to discuss Hot Boy Summer in this entry, I’m sorry – this one is dedicated to that erratic period of Nicola blowing her war horn, beckoning all Lukolas within a worldwide radius of London to commence at her feet. And, commence we did!

Have you ever heard of “chaos theory?” Broadly speaking, it’s the idea that small changes can result in major changes over time – like cause and effect. That’s kind of how I’ve looked back at Chaos Week. We’d spent most of the summer on one bummer of a vacation, with Luke and Nicola (presumably) spending time apart from one another. Sure, we’d had few fireworks explode here and there with pap pictures, and we saw JVN enter the ring as the fan favorite best friend but, on the surface, Hot Boy Summer was, well, rather static. It had carried on with a monotonous “blip…blip…blip…” until suddenly our radar detected a quiet but distinct “blip-blip,” which didn’t register in any of our minds until we had a torpedo coming straight for us!

I don’t believe we can attribute Chaos Week solely to Nicola. Yes, yes, I know, Nicola’s online presence in early to mid-August was chaotic, hence the name “Chaos Week.” But, I do not believe Nicola started Chaos Week. She sure as shit drove it home but, in my opinion, it wasn’t her actions that set everything in motion. Nicola wasn’t the “blip-blip;” she was the torpedo.

So, what was the “blip-blip?”

Luke returning to London – alone – on August 2, of course.

The friend group, which had included Antonia, was nowhere in sight.

Hot Boy Summer had come to an end (I imagine this to be the reason Nicola started blowing her war horn).

In my opinion, Luke’s return set everything else into motion. He was that second pendulum that caused the first one to spiral out of control.

But, we ate that shit up, didn’t we? Yeah, we sure did, and we loved every day of Chaos Week. What’s funny to me is that everyone remembers bits and pieces of Chaos Week, but they never seem to get it in the right order (how chaotic, right?). This happened, then that happened. No, no, that happened first. No, this happened first. The only way to really look at Chaos Week is to give order to the disorder. And, we’re going to do that via a very generic captain’s log, so…

Welcome aboard!

Mission: Chaos Week

Origin: Somewhere in Mayfair.

Destination: Happily Ever After.

Time of Departure: Fuck, I don’t know. When did you board this ship?

Expected Time of Arrival: Hopefully before we all wither up and die.

Log Entries:

August 2. Luke returned to London alone. Yeah, yeah, I know, I already told you that, but I had to add this:

<blip-blip>

August 4. Nicola decided to wake us all up from our somber summer with a plate of French toast. Umm, okay, that’s fucking random. I’m going back to bed – but wait, didn’t Luke say brunch was his “fav meal of the day?” Yeah, I swear I have that polaroid around here somewhere.

<blip>

August 7. Luke – after being absent on social media for what seemed like a lifetime – suddenly popped into his Instagram stories to post some delightfully cute Bridgerton Bloopers. The entire fandom rejoiced at Luke’s return to social media! And, let’s be honest, we only cared about the bloopers with Luke and Nicola. Hmm, Luke always has this intriguing, yet subtle way of surprising us. Did you hear that?

<blip-blip>

August 7. Shortly after Luke posted his Bridgerton Bloopers, Nicola swooped in and dropped a very loud Wordle anvil on her Instagram stories. <clang!> Was she clocking people for making fake social media accounts using her name? Did she really solve the Wordle in two? Actually, most of us ignored that part of the post entirely and went straight to Mr. Google to ask, “What does ‘anvil’ mean? Okay, how about in the Urban Dictionary?” You know you did, too! In all seriousness, though, when this first dropped, I considered whether she was directing the “anvil” at Luke. After all, let’s face it, Nicola was the one who promoted Bridgerton post-Papsmear while Luke disappeared from the limelight. It’s only natural that she might be a bit peeved at him suddenly promoting Bridgerton. However, in hindsight, I believe this to be nothing more than Nicola calling out the person making fake social media accounts under her name. During this time, there seemed to be an influx of fake social media accounts using Nicola and Luke’s names (Luke would address this same topic on his Instagram stories on August 24). And, as fun as it would be to theorize that the “anvil” was directed at someone (other than Luke, of course), it was, in fact, the Wordle for August 6. That said, I do believe that “Wordle” has become synonymous with “Luke” at this point. So, I’ll give you that.

<blip-blip>

August 8. JVN reposted their “[w]hen you catch someone trying to sneak a pic but you were born for these moments” to his Instagram grid. Did you think JVN wasn’t going to be included in Chaos Week?! They produced some of their best shit during this time! Any ways, Nicola liked this grid post, which confirmed my belief that Antonia played some part in the Italy pap pictures (for a full explanation on this, read “Entry 11 – The One About the Heart of the Ocean”). Thanks for the recap, JVN, although most Lukolas probably didn’t need to a reminder as to why they disliked Antonia.

<blip>

August 9. Nicola posted the Scrabble board to her Instagram stories. Whoa, hold up, Jakolas! Yeah, we know Jake played Scrabble with Nicola and – guess what – we Lukolas don’t care. I mean, I’ll even throw the Jakolas a small scrap of meat and say that Jake could (emphasis on could) have helpedNicola with the Scrabble board. Why am I being so charitable? Because that just makes me more confident Jake has always supported Lukola. You will not convince me (or probably any Lukola) that this Scrabble board was directed at anyone else but Antonia. In my opinion, there are only two things in this picture that matter – the central word “HEYA,” or “HEY A,” and the Guinness coaster. In fact, if I had been playing on the opposite side of this Scrabble board, I would have challenged this word. That alone says exactly what it needs to say. This is not to dissuade you from theorizing on every other word on that board, though. I’m simply saying I do not need any other evidence to persuade myself into believing the board was directed at Antonia. Now, if you want to take the two corner words and speculate that Nicola was having “SEX” with “DAD,” go right ahead – I won’t argue with you.

<blip-blip>

August 10. Nicola posted to her Instagram grid the now-deleted birthday greeting to her friend, Camilla. The caption read, “…Remember the time paparazzi took a picture of us and to protect me you grabbed my face?” If that’s not an indirect jab at Luke’s friend group, I’m not sure what it is because it sure as hell doesn’t scream, “Happy Birthday,” to me.

<blip>

August 11. Nicola decided to get out her blow torch and light every beacon fire she could find starting in Bowral and ending in London by posting the “Drink Your Milk” shirt to her Instagram stories. You could practically hear her rallying every last Lukola still standing: “Rise, Lukolas, rise!” In fact, I think some even rose from the dead that day! What was the crisis? Well, only that the “Drink Your Milk” shirt was exactly like the one Luke was seen wearing on or about June 22. Now, now, this was a charity promoted by Jonathan Bailey so it’s entirely possible Nicola was gifted her own shirt. But, guess what? The Lukolas didn’t give a shit! They deep dived into reflections on sunglasses and creases in t-shirt sleeves! And, no, I’m not speculating on that hot mess (if you’re interested in learning more, I promise you there’s plenty of TikToks for that). In truth, it never mattered to me whether the shirt belonged to Luke or not. What mattered was the perception that it was Luke’s shirt. It blew up the Internet and I would stand by my belief that, if the fandom’s perception of something was detrimentally incorrect, Nicola (or Luke) would have corrected it. Nicola did not correct this. And, no, Jakolas, don’t even talk to me about that scrap of green blanket in that picture. I don’t care if Jake played Scrabble with (presumably) Nicola at some point over the summer while sitting outside on a goddamn green blanket. The “Drink Your Milk” post was not a secret coded message to Jake. I would stand on a hill and argue that all afternoon. Why? Because – again – Nicola did not correct the “Luke’s shirt” narrative. She let the fandom run with it. In fact, we all got our own blow torches that day. Mine’s turquoise and engraved with my initials.

<blip-blip-blip>

August 12. JVN posted a “Special announcement” to their Instagram grid. Right about now, you might be, like, “What the fuck does this have to do with Chaos Week?” I told you, JVN has this way of slipping shit into to their posts that make you do a double take – usually a day later while you’re daydreaming during your drive to the office. This was one of those posts. The announcement was: “I’ve been waiting for this announcement until after the Paris Olympics had finished, as to not take away from the incredible success of USA Gymnastics…@teamusa has been following my journey and growth as a gymnast and showed up at my house to personally invite me to train to be a potential member of their 2028 team. While I hate taking a slot away from 2028 potentials like @simonebiles & @stephen_nedoroscik (as it appears quite obvious I’ll make whichever team I attempt to)…” What made this post stick out is that it is, in fact, bullshit. As in, it is a completely made-up story. Team USA did not visit JVN at their house; they’re not joining the USA gymnastics team. It’s not even that funny, to be honest. So, what was the point of it? It’s confusing as fuck when you read it at face value; however, when you drop it into the Lukola timeline, I’m convinced it alludes to something bigger. On August 11, we had Nicola posting the “Drink Your Milk” shirt – which sent the fandom into believing Nicola was wearing Luke’s shirt and that Luke’s reflection was in her sunglasses. On August 13, the day after this post, a torpedo was launched at us (warning, warning, anyone got a phone I can use?). When you look at this post as the middle piece connecting Nicola’s August 11 and August 13 posts, I believe it tells a story. Let me rewrite it for you but imagine it now coming from Nicola’s perspective: “I’ve been waiting for this announcement until after the Paris Olympics Hot Boy Summer had finished, as to not take away from the incredible success of USA Gymnastics Luke’s friend group, which included Antonia…Luke @teamusa has been following my journey and growth as a gymnast and showed up at my house to personally invite me to train to be a potential member of their 2028 team [choose your own adventure on this one]. While I hate taking a slot away from 2028 potentials like @simonebiles Antonia & @stephen_nedoroscik Rory (as it appears quite obvious I’ll make whichever team [“girlfriend” or best friend] I attempt to)…” Huh, at the very least, this post is starting to get the side-eye from you, isn’t it?

<blip-blip>

August 13. Oh, my God! My hair is on fucking fire!!! Nicola dumped “Bless the [Goddamn] Telephone” on her Instagram stories. Whose voice is nice to hear again? What is she trying to say?! Maybe nothing. No, it’s something. “It’s nice, the way you say my name; not very fast or slow, just soft and low; the same as when you tell me how you feel; I feel the same way, too; I’m very much in love with you. I’m very much in love with you.” I don’t need to elaborate any further on this post. It speaks for itself. Chaos Week had officially launched its massive torpedo (full of firecrackers and pinata candy) and the entire Lukola fandom was hysterical – in the best way possible. However, I will interrupt this happy moment with – Jakolas, please don’t start trying to link this song to Jake because Jack Rooke used it in an episode of “Big Boys.” Yes, we are aware Jake played a minor role in that show as a love interest to the main character, Jack. Again, Nicola did not shut down the fandom’s perception that the song was for Luke. Sorry, not sorry, Jakolas. If any part of Chaos Week was for Jake, I believe Nicola would have shut the entire thing down after realizing the fandom was associating everything with Luke.

< BLIP-BLIP-BLIP-BLIP-BLIP-BLIP>

August 15. After giving the fandom 48 hours to process “Bless the Telephone,” Nicola posted to her Instagram grid, “Very demure, very mindful.” In my opinion, Nicola was acknowledging that her recent posts (ahem, “Bless the Telephone”) were intentional, and she was aware of how they were being taken by the fandom (ahem, that they were for Luke).

<blip-blip-blip-blip>

August 15. JVN posted to their TikTok account “Slick Back Bun.” Hands down a fan favorite moment with JVN. “Sometimes I just need a very demure slick back bun…I don’t do my slick back bun like all the other girls. Here I’ll show you how to do it…I’m just going to take the hair and twist it around itself, so I just have a little cinnamon roll bun…” Do I need to elaborate on this one? Seriously, do I? Slick back bun – Antonia – yeah, okay, got it, we’re still going knives out on Antonia. If you haven’t watched this, it is still on JVN’s TikTok and Instagram grid. It was clever how “demure” JVN and Nicola were being that day.

<blip-blip-blip>

August 16. Nicola posted another song to her Instagram stories. This time it was Clairo’s “Juna.” It was not just a sweet, romantic song; it was full on sexy. “You make me wanna try on feminine; you make me wanna go buy a new dress; you make me wanna slip off a new dress…With you, there’s no pretending.” Alright, alright, enough! Wait – no, no – come back! I didn’t mean it! Please, please bring back your music to Instagram, Nicola!

<blip>

At this point, in my opinion, Chaos Week ended; however, I’m going to reference one more log entry mainly because, if I don’t, it will get overlooked in the small gap between Chaos Week and when the Jakolas enter the picture on August 25 (see “Entry 8 – The One About the Adjacent of Convenience” for that side show).

August 22. Nicola posted the picture of Luke and herself from Bridgerton Season 3 to her Instagram grid. And, no, I do not consider this to be a “Polin” picture. The picture appeared to be an alternative version of the polaroid Nicola carried with her throughout the World Tour. She captioned the post, “I thought I’d already shared this but I hadn’t so here you go now it’s all yours.” She also shared this in her stories and captioned that “with the lovliest pal a gal could have” and tagged Luke’s crotch. The story would disappear after 24 hours, but the post itself is still on Nicola’s Instagram grid. This post can be taken in several ways, depending on your mood. Was she friendzoning Luke because she used the word “pal” in her Instagram story? No, I don’t think she was. The “lov[e]liest pal?” That’s about as confusing as their “unique relationship.” Was she telling the fandom to support Luke because she supported Luke (i.e., stop hating on him)? Yeah, probably. Was she telling the fandom that she thought she’d already made it very clear that everything she had been posting was about Luke? Yes, I believe this to be the most reasonable answer, especially when you consider her previous posts. The reality is, that man fills a hefty chunk of her Instagram grid – and not dressed like Colin Bridgerton. But, I also believe that this post may have been a preemptive strike against the narrative that would surface three days later on August 25. It’s entirely possible Nicola knew that the pap pictures of Jake at the festival would be released by DeuxMoi (after all, it took DeuxMois over a week to release them), and Nicola was reminding fans that her narrative involved Luke. Note, that Nicola would repeat this in October when she and Luke simultaneously posted their “Polin” picture to their Instagram stories, which was followed a few days later by DeuxMoi dropping pap pictures of Nicola and Jake.

<blip-blip>

Oh, a few honorable mentions post-August 22: (a) Nicola posted a picture from her Stylist Magazine photoshoot – the one from the back seat of a car (i.e., the “modern day carriage”) on August 23; (b) Luke posted about how he only had an Instagram account on August 24; and (c) JVN posted his “two finger” hair straightening demo on TikTok on August 25 (yes, I only listed these honorable mentions to get to JVN’s “two finger” demo because that was some laugh-out-loud funny shit – and it’s literally on the heels of Nicola’s “modern day carriage”).

<blip>

August 25. What in the hot fucking kittens is that? Well, thank God, it’s not an iceberg this time. Whoa, they didn’t just pull that Non-Player Character from that group of guys and name a ship after him, did they? Hahaha, dumbasses. Oh, shit! It’s coming straight for us!

<BLIP-BLIP-BLIP-BLIP-BLIP>

End Log.

Well, how was Chaos Week? Did you have a good time? I’m honestly friggin’ exhausted. Seriously, even just writing all that down was exhausting. Like, my brain is fried. Oh, yeah, feel free to ignore that part at the end of our log. That shit happens every time the Lukolas are given a bit of fun. You’ll get used to it.

I took you on this excursion through Chaos Week today because I believe it is important to develop an opinion about what happened before and after Hot Boy Summer, especially if we’re going to theorize on it at a later point. And, as I mentioned earlier, the before played out in front of our eyes and the after, well, if we have the information available, why not peek in its direction? It’s almost like reading a book from back to front.

There are three things that happened during Chaos Week that have kept my feet firmly planted on the USS Lukola. One, Nicola wearing the “Drink Your Milk” shirt, alluding to the still uncorrected perception that it was Luke’s shirt. Two, “Bless the Telephone.” We started Hot Boy Summer with The Frames singing, “I’m gonna wait for you…” and ended it with Labi Siffre answering, “It’s nice to hear your voice again…” And, three, Nicola posting “Very demure, very mindful,” confirming – in my opinion – that she was very conscious of what her posts were telling the fandom – i.e., that they were for Luke.

But, as I was sitting here typing out my thoughts about Chaos Week, I found myself – oh, no, word vomit! – annoyed.

Yes, annoyed.

It’s not Chaos Week itself that has left me feeling annoyed. That was one hell of a “Bridgerton Ride.” It’s that Chaos Week set in motion this predictable pattern which solidified my opinion that “Lukolas can’t have nice things.” Seriously, we can’t have nice things because something always comes in and fucks it up.

You know how I mentioned at the beginning of this post that Luke’s return to London was the “blip-blip” that led to Chaos Week? Luke was the “cause” and Chaos Week was the “effect.” Well, Chaos Week was the “blip-blip” that led to the current state of the fandom. We now have three ships – the Lukola, the Jakola, and the Lutonia – sailing the Fandom Sea, and every time the Lukola finds itself flying high, it gets hijacked by one or both of those motherfucking side ships.

Every.

Single.

Time.

Somewhere in this hot mess, the chaos that originated from Nicola’s August social media spree found order! In fact, we’ve fallen into such a predictable pattern of events that the ebb and flow of the sideshow antics barely “blip” our radar these days. When bullshit starts bullshitting, I just breathe a deep sigh of unadulterated annoyance and think, “I’m so over this shit.” Honestly, I’m getting the vibe that many of us are over this shit. We’re not playing Scrabble anymore. We’re playing that never-ending game of Risk.

Sometimes I wonder if the fandom would have been better off if Chaos Week had never happened. That Pandora’s Box had never been opened and that the fandom had simply allowed the USS Lukola to sail off into the sunset. But, then I think about the people I have met along the way. The Ones that have made me laugh until my stomach hurts. The Ones with whom I’ve gone so far down a rabbit hole we’ve come out on the other side as different people. The Ones that I’ve rescued from the riptide. And, the Ones that have stopped me from rowing my dinghy to shore (because, yes, I’ve had rough days, too). You all know who you are.

So, I find myself putting up with the day-to-day humdrum of the Life of a Lukola, chatting with the people I now consider my friends, and waiting.

Waiting for something different to happen. A disruption to the current cycle. A new kind of chaos – preferably, the kind that mortally wounds the Jakola and Lutonia love triangles and finally allows the Lukolas to have (and keep) nice things.

But, in the meantime, I am still sitting here – listening for that quiet but distinct sound – but also contemplating knocking the Risk board off the table.

<blip>

<blip-blip>

#lukola #luke newton #nicola coughlan #my thoughts #my opinion #speculation only #my mood

351 notes · View notes

81folklore · 8 months ago

Text

i can do it with a broken heart - f1 grid

parings: gn!driver!reader x platonic!f1!grid x ex!jacob elordi

summary: after yn and their ex break up, they carry on as best they can and no one had any idea how bad they were struggling

type: social media au (smau)

notes: george is in this but he does not drive for mercedes, yn does. i also used a mixture of fem and masc pictures because i couldnt decide and thought you could just imagine whatever you wish!!

notes 2: probably the longest fic ive done so far but im pretty proud of it. the time stamps above each section are semi important so i would keep an eye on them!! also i know ive been gone for so long but i do not promise ill be back. alsoooo i know i only included a bit of the grid but i kept getting distracted and then couldn’t figure out how to include everyone!!

masterlist

march 2024

twitter

charles oh my god i cant believe my cat is finally the pfp

i have been waiting for YEARS

max yes well you better enjoy it because it’ll change soon and you’ll be back to waiting again.

lando jesus max do you have to use punctuation???

alex be glad he doesnt use captials

oscar one thing at a time lando, we dont want to scare him

max ???

lando anyway

yn mate you ok?

yourname im fine? ur scaring me you never ask how i am

lando yeah but usually your not single

lewis oh no! you and jacob split?

yourname yeah, wasnt working anymore

charles ah im sorry, that must suck😣

yourname i mean it does but its been coming for a long time so its not surprising

fernando hello! yn what is wrong? you always use emotes!

yourname theyre emojis nando, and im fine just a bit lost

fernando do not worry, i will come and find you!

yourname no, i dont mean literally just..we were together for so long i dont really know what to do now you know?

lando i get it, you wanna play tarkov with me???

yourname cheers ill get on now

george let us know if you need anything!

may 2024

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and 814,583 others

p✌️ was just what we needed this weekend!

thank you to everyone who came out and supported myself and the team and huge thank you to the team for working so hard all weekend⭐️

view comments

mercedesamgf1 mega job this weekend yn👊 *liked by author*

landonorris nice to share the podium with you mate

yourusername same time next race?

user33 loved seeing you back on the podium

user2 absolutely smashing it this season

user21 more podiums please🤲 *liked by author*

user3 fourth podium of the year first p✌️*liked by author*

twitter

*pretend it says after march i changed dates around last min*

august 2024

yourusername

liked by lukehemmings, charles_leclerc and 1,124,642 others

did some reading, painting and writing

baked some good food and spent time with some good people, also got a cat…not bad for summer break☀️

view comments

user66 AHHHHHH

yourusername ahhhhhhh

user26 cats name plsplspls

yourusername norman🐱

lukehemmings nice music👍

yourusername woah arent you the guy who wrote mum?!

mercedesamgf1 ready to see you back on the podium

yourusername always!!!!

user74 have you had funnnn??

yourusername yesss!! ive been doing lots of things i enjoy, basically treating every day as my birthday😋

twitter

*was supposed to write them instead of her sorry!! was doing two stories at once and kept getting mixed up😅*

october 2024

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, gracieabrams and 1,291,638 others

p☝️ for the 3rd time this season, very very pleased

huuuuuge thank you to the team, every single one of you who worked tirelessly over the summer break and every moment since then, these have been for you⭐️

view comments

user55 what a good season to be a yn fan *liked by author*

user6 these races have been incredible to watch, so proud

yourusername ⭐️⭐️

gracieabrams woop woop!!!!

yourusername 😝😝

user2 gracie??

user41 why have we not had any personal photo dumps yet😕😕

user88 right we miss seeing you yn!!

yourusername sorry guys😣ive been suuuper busy working on something i just honestly forgot

user41 NEW PROJECT?? WHEN?? (also pls dont feel bad we love u)

yourusername soon!! (and i love u guys too)

twitter

november 2024

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 3,689,921 others

tagged: taylorswift

i cannot believe i get to say this, but my new friend taylor just released a new album and i was able to write a song on the album

im honestly not sure how this came about but i had so much fun writing this and expressing all my thoughts and feelings in a way ive never done before

i poured my life and soul into this song and im so glad taylor is the one who is singing it and really bought it to life

send some love to my friend and go and stream THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT (most importantly i can do it with a broken heart😉)

comments have been limited

taylorswift thank you for trusting me with this song, so much love🤍

yourusername NO THANK YOU!!! i will be forever grateful⭐️⭐️

twitter

yourusername added to their story

seen by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 729,282 others

charles i feel completely betrayed yn

fernando oh no😟! what did yn do?

charles THEY DIDNT TELL ME THEY WERE WRITING A SONG??

AND WITH TAYLOR SWIFT HOW COULD YOU☹️☹️

yourname sorry charles, surprise?!

charles ill forgive you because its a good song

yourname thank you my life just got infinitely better!

yuki very good song yn! has been on repeat☺️

yourname thanks yuki, glad you like it!!

lando I LOVE IT TOO

but seriously are you ok?!

yourname yeahhh im better now

was just a lot to navigate

lewis glad you found an outlet! but remember you can always talk to any of us

yourname i know and i appreciate it, i really do

alex yn was that twitter thread right?

yourname mate youre going to have to elaborate

alex user56tweetlink

yourname oh pretty much yeah

some things were changed with taylor but not much

fernando just listened to the song yn! very nice👍well done!

yourname thank uu

max good song yn!

now

lando can you please tell me what you meant on your twitch stream!

oscar max is kind of scary

max dont make me talk about that interview next oscar!

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #social media au #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 drabble #f1 x male reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 insta au #★ platonic

924 notes · View notes

tapingthedative · 7 days ago

Text

I MADE A LIST OF EVERY MOUNTAIN GOATS LIVE SHOW WITH LINKS TO THEIR TAPINGS ONLINE

Back in August, I started a list of every Mountain Goats show known to the fandom wiki with links to anywhere a taping has been uploaded. And now it is done.

details if you're curious:

There are two sheets here which you can swap to by tabs at the bottom of the screen. The first sheet is the list itself, and the second sheet explains why some cells are coloured and what those colours mean.

Because I used the Mountain Goats fandom wiki, a handful of shows and tapings may not be there. But I estimate that 97 to 99% of shows are on there. There’s probably a bunch of tapings I haven’t found yet.

I wanted to know what we have and what we don’t. Now that I have a good idea, I want to share the list with everyone else.

Despite having reached the end of the list of live shows on the fandom wiki, there’s still stuff to be done with the list. For starters, I’ll do what I can to keep them up to date. I also need to improve the layout of the list and link to the wiki pages of the shows.

But, I need help from you readers as well if possible. As I mentioned before, it’s likely that the wiki has fewer links to tapings than are actually out there. If you know of one, please let me know (in my asks) so I can make the list more accurate. Also, if we can get shows up on more sources, with permission from the uploaders, these things won’t become lost. A few may have been already since there are dead links on the wiki, and thus this list. If you can help in either of those ways, it would be much appreciated.

I’m not asking for money and I’m not trying to boost myself online. All I hope is that this tool is out there and useful to folks like me and you.

#the mountain goats #tmg #tapes

226 notes · View notes

goldsbitch · 3 months ago

Text

Not on the menu

Making out in public is not something to be shameful, right?

light smut, minors DNI, angst

note: this is my first Franco fic. this man came, served and what are we suppose to do?!

When it feels this good, it's worth breaking few rules.

You and Franco. Very well protected love affair. A fling. Just two young people who somehow end up in each other's beds whenever the opportunity arises.

Working in F2 as one of the production assistants was more exciting than one might think. Everyone would always praise F1, the size of the teams, the budgets, the glam surrounding it. F2 was different, more loose and less on the spotlight. Full of professionals, who just like drivers, worked their asses off just for a chance to progress into F1. But you were just so young, just starting and unlike with the drivers, you had no rush, plenty of time for that in the next years. It was all about learning, getting to know people and also, occasionally, having some good fun. It's hard to keep young people on a leash. Lot of travel involved, hotel rooms and many people mingling around, leads to just one thing. It wasn't special or albeit scandalous to fool around with a fellow crew member, in fact many marriages started like that, no matter the rank or department. Life on the road has its habits.

So when you first ended up on a dance floor with the ever-so-charming Franco at one of the opening events for F2, it was not such a surprise that you ended at his hotel room. Way less wondering eyes and almost no glam was at these evenings, the exact opposite of F1.

By some miracle, you managed to keep it a secret, apart from few closest friends, who served as an excuse for you two to actually hang out together. These few trusted souls witnessed their fair share of tipsy make outs and laughed collectively at your hickeys, which turned out to be his speciality. You never texted, never addressed your fling when sober. Deep down you knew you were curious to see how he was as a serious partner. But he never gave off that kind of a vibe. So you protected yourself, remained cool and decided that this was the peak your relation would ever be, and that was ok enough.

"So what about you and Franco?" a friend of you both asked you, once again. You hated when she did that. In her mind, it would be a great idea to have two of her friends together. But the truth was, she was way closer with him than you were. Nothing wrong with that, but it only reminded you of how shallow your interaction were. In order to keep you dignity while fooling around with a player, you pretended to be one as well. "You know how these things are, it's just physical. I don't think he's the kind of person I'd like to date." False. You knew that, but..! You stayed on the ground, he was just a bit out of your league. Simple as that. Soon enough he was gonna catch the eye of some model and you'll be old news. The whole thing would be way worse if anyone knew that you would actually be open to at least try and date him. It was hard to stop the daydreaming sometimes. "Yeah, that makes sense," was the only thing your friend, disappointed by your response, answered. You only wondered if she had conversations like this with him as well about you.

Life was good that one evening in August. At the time, you had no idea it will the last evening of that era. It was one of the typical dinners the wealthier members of the teams organized, a nice chill place to wind down after stressful days. You were sat few places from Franco, who was charming as ever. Raining smiles on everyone and stealing glances with you.

A text notification - Bathroom?

You gulped, locked eyes with him and gave a small nod. His smile was probably crafted specifically for you, somewhere in the depths of hell. Impossible to resist.

He got up and you followed a minute later, giving a knowing look to your mutual friend. She understood and happily covered for you in case someone else caught on.

It wasn't exactly the right thing to do, lock yourself in a room dedicated for nursing mothers. But better than blocking a bathroom.

"Aren't you a little old to be in this room?" you asked when you joined him and secured the door behind you. He was leaning over a counter, fingers tapping on the top. "I can't help it, I am hungry," Franco responded and gestured you to come closer to him. With a challenging look, you took few steps towards him. "This is a restaurant, you're at the right place."

"The things I want are not on the menu." He was done playing sneaking around and crashed his lips onto yours, as if to prove his hunger. He was just too good with his tongue. Taking you, like his little victim, making you forget the outside world still existed. His hand went to grab your neck, behind your ear, because by then he had figured out that keeping you in check was the thing that made your knees weak. His lips were locked with yours, in heated frenzy, not allowing any breath to be wasted. You knew how to play the game as well, and with a soft bite into his lower lip, drawing a gasp from him, you pulled away slightly, not allowing him to take full control. "Oh," he said, trying to steal another kiss from you while you pulled away more with satisfied smile. "Is this how it is now?" he continued, tone laced with intrigue and challenge. Your tongue reached to lick his lips once again. His hand suddenly lessened the pull towards him. "Oh, hermosa," he whispered, "two can play this game." Butterflies occupied your stomach. He stepped back and to your questioning look responded with another bloody wink. And then, then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up in the air and sat on the counter. You gasped, only amusing him more. Lost for words, you only raised your eyebrows. "Better," he said and with audacity only young boys have lifted your shift up. Without much of a thought you put your arms up and helped him get you slightly more naked. His eyes were shamelessly focus on your chest. "Almost there," he said and gestured towards your bra. "Go on. Take this horrible thing off." You chuckled, because as charming and suave he was, taking a bra off was a moment where he failed each time. Desire fueled you into making this quick. Now that you were sat, his eyes were at a similar lever to your boobs and there was something hot about his hungry look, watching you undress even more. Once you were finally fully bare, he observed you and the locked eyes with you once again.

"Pretty," was the only thing that he said before putting his lips on your left nipple for a gentle peck and then on the right one, which received a light bite. He decided to stay focused on that one, few kisses here and there and began to suck on it while his hand pinched the left one. Arrows of pleasure flew into your lower belly. He knew your weakness, he must have because this was sending you into other dimensions. Anything that feels this ecstatic would make anyone crumble. Whatever he did seemed to always work on you. He wasted no time with gentle touches. Not enough time for that. After nearly sending you over the edge with his lips dancing around and sucking on your nipple, moved a bit upwards and went for his signature move - marking your breasts with hickeys so purple it would take a week to heal. You bend your head backwards, trying to contain any loud noises your body wanted you to make in reaction to his actions. Another twirl around your sensitive nipple, bite into your skin and a hard squeeze. You did not want him to stop, too deep in it to think straight. But that must have been his plan from the beginning, because he put you on edge and then back away. You almost let a soft "No..." escape your mouth. With a puzzled look you slowly came down and remembered you were still in public. Heavy breaths and you gulped your way back to normal. He stepped back a bit and observed his mark on you. With an approving nod, he had the audacity to fix his boner up so that it was not so obvious. "Looking forward to seeing you later?" he asked with a tone that indicated the answer was obvious. You just nodded and reached for your bra, hoping his hickey was low enough it would not be visible. But, he had never made that kind of a mistake. You hopped down and gave him one more kiss, a slow and gentle this time, before he parted back to the dinner table. You joined in a minute, after fixing yourself up and trying to make your cheeks less red. Thankfully, there was only one another amused person when you came back to the table. Your friend raised her brows at you and drank her wine as if nothing ever happened.

Everything shower, hair on point, favorite perfume - you were all set and ready for how the evening would inevitably progress. This time you even made sure to clean your room. You got too comfortable with your expectations. Watching his every move, you noticed immediately when his expression changed from a casual smile to focused frown when reading a text on his phone. Was it something serious? Would he confide in later, sometimes it happened by accident. Secrets shared among tangled sheets. He got up and sent you a cheeky wink. You had to bite your cheek in order to stop the smile your body wanted to respond with, a small bruise burning inside your bra.

It took you fifteen minutes to realize he was not coming back from his phone call. You had his number, you could easily text him. But you didn't. And just like that, he was off to F1.

#franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #franco colapinto x y/n #formula 1 one shot #f1 one shot #formula 1 smut

154 notes · View notes

bitchimasnake-sss · 5 months ago

Note

screaming crying sobbing please give us more of tennis!au zoro, need to see him being a cocky little shit but also groveling to properly get back with reader (good luck buddy).

absolutely loved your writing for that idea and can’t wait to see your other au’s, esp if they’re this creative and not the “obvious” ones (i.e. didn’t see zoro as a tennis player but now i do).

keep up the amazing writing 💋💋

aaaAAAAH THE WAY I WAS WAITING FOR ANYONE TO REQUEST A PART TWO DESPERATELY 😚 AND TYSM POOKIE FOR BEING SO KIND AND SAYING SUCH NICE STUFF ABOUT ME. I HAD A ROUGH DAY 😭😭. ILYSM HOPE YOU GET A HUG FROM SOMEBODY YOU LOVE SOON!

bitchimasnake-sss presents: the one piece AUs

02. what kind of a pr stunt is this?! ft. roronoa zoro

set-up: part 02 to my badminton player!zoro au lol. you can find that here! (i recommend you read that first!) exes are exes for a reason. right? right. then why were you pretending to be in love with the same man that broke your heart five years ago? what kind of publicity stunt is this? and more importantly, is it worth your sanity? warnings: dumb people, even dumber plot by me! NOT PROOFREAD SO IM SORRY FOR TYPOS. includes heavy angst towards the end, fake dating shenanigans. zoro is a pain. and smut (hehe u nasty). nsfw thoughts include cuddle fucking (wow, my demons made me write it), penetration, teasing, dirty talk, a little bit of bimbofication. GIRL NEVER LET A MAN RUIN YOUR CAREER!! wc: 9.6k m.list

26th of august, 9:53 p.m.

"i do not fucking get it." your gaze followed the movements of the shuttle as it moved from the blue-haired girl to your coach, nico robin.

"well," the voice through the speaker was eerily calm for the man that was uttering them, "that's the thing, you don't have to get it. i talked to nami-swan~" and you could practically hear the drool and the heart-eyes in your manager's voice.

"nami-swan?" you leaned back, your back hitting the blue seat in the audience.

the practice court was empty, only haunted by the sounds of air being sliced and shuttles being compromised one after the other for the sake of the game. only three people remained: you, vivi — your partner in the upcoming women's doubles — and coach robin, the former number one in female category. you stared at the court, eyes still following the movements of the shuttle, the phone in your hand and the contact vinsmoke sanji on speaker.

vivi heaved out a trembling breath before hitting a particularly hard stroke, and your eyes widened, awestruck, as coach robin easily defended the oncoming strike. sometimes, you wondered, if your coach had the power to summon more hands.

your practice session was over, and you sat, catching your breath as the man broke you out of your daze, "oh, don't be jealous! you are ever more radiant, more gorgeous—"

"—get to the point, sanji."

"ofcourse." he cooed, "see, you hate roronoa zoro, correct?"

your breath hitched, but you nodded nonetheless, "correct."

"you do not wish to see him again, correct?"

"correct."

"and from what i gather, he isn't fond of you, either. right?"

ouch. "yeah."

"perfect! so this is the most brilliant plan! you just have to pretend to be with him just for a few months—"

"—months, sanji?" your eyes widened, as you subconsciously sat up straight at the idea of having to endure that moss-headed bastard for several months.

"oh, it's not as bad as it sounds!" he tried to defend, "just think about the end goal. after pretending for a few months, you both "break up", and then you have to literally never think about him or see him ever again. how wonderful, isn't it?" his voice swooned, "nami-swan is pretty smart~"

and you slumped backwards at the explanation. months of torture? would it even be worth it? probably not. you rubbed your temple, trying to fend off a budding headache, "we're sportsmen. we are supposed to focus on sports, what the fuck is up with this pr stunt?"

"you and him are sportsmen, correct." you could hear him take a drag of his cigarette, "but me and nami-swan are your managers. you both are at the peak of your respective careers, and sports is a fickle thing, my love. you know that."

"i do but—"

"darling, your job is to play. mine is to ensure that the next brand ambassador for nike is you."

you sighed, hell-bent on finding flaws in the situation, "and dating roronoa does that for me?"

"not exactly," he blew out the smoke, "but once you are through with him, imagine the amount of sympathy you gain? there'd be fan-edits of you on tiktok and comment section full of go girlboss! he doesn't deserve you~" he paused, letting you get used to the opportunity, "we use that, we built you up as an even bigger brand. you. the kind of girl that battled heartache in the spotlight."

you could hear the smile in his cashmere words, "and won."

this situation seemed too good. how would all of that fall in your favour? god is never that kind. never to you, atleast.

"and what does roronoa gain from this? did nami-swan tell you anything about that?" you stood up, waving goodbye to robin and vivi and picking up your duffel bag. as you walked through the hallway, your voice echoed and came to you, "sure as fuck, he's not walking away from this situation without winning something himself, right?"

"who knows?" sanji laughed, "that's upto that moss-head and that ever-radiant goddess—" sanji cleared his throat, "uh— for nami-swan to figure out. not you. i'm focused on you, love."

you sighed as you pushed the glass door to the practice complex open. stepping out, the night air felt cool against your sweat-covered neck and back. as you walked to your car, you caught sight of a certain man. why.

"he's here." you spoke into the phone, a slight panic building up in your bones as you deliberately slowed down, "why is he here?"

"roronoa?" sanji asked, and a certain twinge in his voice made your stomach coil inwards, "good luck, love."

"wait sanj—" beep. he cut the call. that bastard. men cannot be trusted, after all.

"hey there." his voice was akin to nails on chalkboard.

why. why was roronoa zoro here?! standing outside your practice court, in front of your car, pretending to be your boyfriend. with a relaxed grin on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hands, at that too!

you gaze danced around, trying to spot paparazzi in your peripheral vision as you walked up to your car. but the parking seemed empty, and part of you wondered if roronoa zoro just enjoyed annoying the shit out of you. possibly.

as you reached him, the man wrapped his free arm around you, his voice next to your ear, "there's paps here, just play along."

you pulled back, your features twisted into a frown, "i cannot see anyone."

he pressed a soft kiss to your temple and you recoiled back instinctively, muttering out a feeble, "'m sweaty, don't do that."

"i've seen you worse."

the fuck does that mean? he wants to throw hands in this parking lot, huh? is that it? you can take him, though. ofc.

but before you could battle it out, he craned his neck, trying to scan for the paps that he was so sure were around. his eyes fixated on a certain car, and he slowly nodded in that direction, "found 'em. see."

you turned back slowly, only to find out two guys — some twenty years or so — with a camera out, pretending to be nonchalant. as if being out on a random sports complex at ten in the night was normal behaviour.

your mouth went sour, but you dragged your gaze up at zoro anyways. being under observation, your fingers reached for his and you interlocked them. your words though? just plain cruel. "fine." you huffed out, "get in the car, roronoa."

"of course," he shoved the bouquet towards you, "for you, by the way."

you grabbed the bunch of flowers recklessly, having no regard for them, "nami-swan gave them to you?"

"swan?" his eyebrows furrowed as you walked to the drivers side, "nami, yes. swan, no."

you unlocked the car, throwing the duffel to the backseat and getting in. zoro followed suit, getting in the passenger seat. you turned on the engine wordlessly and within a few minutes you were driving the car out of the parking complex.

"do you—"

"no." you pressed the touchscreen, trying to put on your playlist to avoid talking to him, "we don't need to talk. just sit."

he leaned back into the passengers seat, huffing out a soft, "'was jus' asking if you ate or not, woman." he shrugged, "i didn't, so, we could go get some—"

"—don't care. and what i do is none of your concern." the street lights painted the barren, concrete roads a subtle orange. the moon hung low in the night sky, and you pressed the accelerator harder.

"it kinda is. we're dating." a self-satisfying grin made to his lips at the mention of the word. his arms came up to rest behind his head, and he looked at you sideways.

your foot pressed down at the accelerator impossibly harder, hands gripping for dear life onto the steering wheel, eyes narrowing at the road as. you grit out, "not your girlfriend. not dating."

he laughed anyways, finding some amusement in your misery, "you're no fun."

"die, roronoa."

"we both might with the way you're driving." he looked out the window, the city outside a mere blur of lights as you cruised down the empty highways to make it back to his home.

"why am i even living at your place, still?" you mumbled into the steering wheel, slowing down begrudgingly. and he replied back coolly, "cause dad likes you more than he likes me."

"hah!" a grin made to your lips. you looked over at him for a microsecond, and looked away immediately lest he looked back at you, "so glad we both finally agree about something."

"yeah." roronoa zoro breathed out slowly, staring at the way the overhead orange lights casted shadows across your pretty face. your hair was pulled back into a messy bun, pretty eyes on the road, and flushed face breaking his heart for the nth time.

flushed face, huh? he cleared his throat, eyes drifting down to his lap, "d- d'you wanna like talk about that... night?"

he didn't miss the way your hands clutched the steering wheels tighter, and a furious blush blossomed across your face as you stuttered out, "no! there's no-nothing to discuss."

he looked away from you, eyes zeroing on the flickering lights of towering skyscrapers far away, "see, 'nother thing we agree on."

but the blush on your face refused to die down, so you just choked out a soft, "shut up, roronoa."

a smile tugged at his lips at your crumbling words, "yes ma'am."

"and stop calling me ma'am!"

10:34 p.m.

"ah, you're back. how wonderful." mihawk's eyes stayed trained on the news on the screen, a glass of wine in his hands. monotonously, he asked, "how are the lovebirds doing?"

"hungry—"

"— not lovebirds."

all three of you looked at the flatscreen, as the anchor flashed a staged photo of you two holding hands with a mischievous glint in her eyes. mihawk sipped down the burgundy liquid, "seems like you are lovebirds to the media."

"shouldn't seem the same to you, sir."

zoro shrugged, picking up an apple that was kept neatly in the fruits basket on the table. he tossed the glossy red from one palm to the other, "yeah, yeah. the 'not lovebirds' are very hungry, though. can we eat something?"

"i'm gonna shower, then eat." you hitched the duffel higher on your shoulder, walking towards your room, "catch you guys later. don't wait for me."

you dropped the duffel down at the door, collapsing on the soft mattress and the familiar scent of the duvet greeted you immediately. a unladylike groan made past your lips as you stretched your limbs and fell slack on the mattress again.

the women's singles was three months away. technically, you could relax for a few days. technically. but after winning the champion's cup, all eyes were on you. and failing wasn't an option. especially not since if you did reach the finals, it would probably be against boa hancock again. and if you lost? that would crush you and your ego to smithereens.

you sighed into the soft covers, turning your head to look at the bedside table to find the same white plastic that was given to you a few weeks back. the pack of beer remained untouched inside. thinking of the interaction with a certain someone, you dug your cheeks harder against the covers to fight off the warmth spreading all over.

get a grip. you hate him.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

28th of august, 11:28 p.m.

knock knock knock.

you stood outside to zoro's door, hands fisted around the carton and feet shuffling over the hardwood floors as you awaited his appearance.

you hate him right?

"hi?" zoro looked at you, eyes immediately narrowing. his neck craned forwards, eyes experimentally looking around as if he expected someone to be lurking in the periphery. once thorough with his inspection, his gaze landed atop you. he repeated, "hey?"

then why were you standing here right now?

"uh, hi?"

"d'you like," he paused, a shiver running down his spine at the possibility of the question, "want something?"

walk away, say you knocked on the wrong door! anything!

"can i come in?" you raised the pack of beer upwards. gulping before mumbling, "i need help finishing this."

"oh?" his lips parted, eyes trained on the glass bottles, "i bought you that like a month ago, didn't drink 'em?"

"uh? no." you looked down at the pack too, "well, i was off alcohol for the season, you know."

"do not disrespect alcohol by calling beer one." he nodded at you gravely, apparently growing serious about the drinks he consumed, and their status.

"okay?" your nose scrunched up, "looks like it is a topic or great importance to you."

"it is. alcoholism is in my blood." atleast hes self aware about him and his dad's habits? that's good. we love a self aware king.

well, no, we don't love him!

your eyes widened at the sudden realization, and your mouth ran it's course trying to cause damage in another sphere of life, "you're adopted, though?"

he stared at you a second, growing unsure of your own parentage and you panicked, "y-you knew that, right?"

"no!" he looked at you horrified. then the expression slipped. what a bastard.

"obviously. I'm just toying with ya." nodding, he took a step back, "come in."

roronoa zoro's room was the same kind it was five years ago. the bed never made, atleast three bottles of water at his bedside table at all given times, the door to the closet ajar and a video game switched open on his flatscreen and two bean bags perched in front of them.

but now the wall behind his bed was painted a shade or sage green, and haphazard, shaky selfies of perona with zoro winning tournaments with on a was put up (by perona, of course). other photos included him with a raven boy you recognized as monkey d. luffy. olympic-level skier. that boy could bend in ways unfathomable.

you briefly caught eye of a red-headed girl but before you could look deeper, zoro crashed on one of the bean bags, helplessly floundering as the furniture beneath him changed shape. he looked back at where you stood, "wanna play?"

"wonderful interiors." you crashed on the bean bag next to him, floundering around much the same before gritting out a, "did you dye your hair to match the walls or vice-versa?"

"very funny," he grumbled, handing you another controller, "you're just mad i pull green off well. now wanna play or what?"

1:26 a.m.

"that was fuckin' unfair," the sportsman grumbled, slumping back in his chair, "you literally tricked me."

"eh," you shrugged, bringing the second bottle to the brink of your lips. your voice reverberated against the delicate glass, "you're just mad i won."

"i am a man of honour and virtue, woman."

"and a loser. a sore loser at that." you grinned at the man, and he sulked more in return. throwing the controller to the side, he brought his third bottle to his lips, "don't you have to go sleep? got no practice tomorrow?"

and you couldn't help but ogle at his lips. he seemed to say some words, but all you could remember was the searing kisses. him again you. senseless. the kind that trailed down you body and—

it was that wretched alcohol, obviously. making you think stuff like this. fuck roronoa zoro. fuck roronoa zoro. fuck roro—

not that kind of fuck.

"—nefertari vivi, right? that's your partner." zoro nodded in approval, continuing with regard of what kind of battles were being waged in the labyrinths of your mind. "dad said she's climbing the ranks pretty soon. could be a real help in winning against boa this year."

he paused, awaiting a reply and your daze shattered as you met his eyes. the fucking alcohol. "yeah. uh, vivi's really good. very quick on her feet too. she's good."

"yeah," he cleared his throat, "so, no practice tomorrow?"

"no, it's a rest day." you gulped down the rest of the liquid, "what about you? decided who's gonna be your next coach?"

"dad says he wants to hand me over to shanks."

"red-haired shanks?! oh my god!" your body moved before your brain and you turned towards the man you had loved once. body angled forward, way too close.

and roronoa zoro forgot how to breath. you were so pretty. fuck you. fuck you. fuck yo—

fuck you in the exact way he was thinking.

and maybe you could hear his thoughts or see the resolve in his eyes because you pulled back. tucking your hair behind and fidgeting with your fingers, you gave him an awkward smile, "i mean he's just a legend. so, it's huge that you get to... be his student."

"nothing's set in stone." the man continued to stare at your lips, head tilted towards you expectantly, "i mean, dad isn't fond of him. says he's a pain. but, uh... like you said, he's good. plus i know him. he's basically luffy's dad with how often luffy crashes at his house."

you hummed, eyes shying away from him, "that's nice."

he hummed back, eyes zeroing on you, "'spose it is."

you don't know who or what to blame for what happened next.

the alcohol? zoro, for the way his fingers softly touched your cheek? yourself, for the way you leaned forward and caught his bottom lip against yours?

his hands manhandled you, picking you off of your bean bag and onto his lap. the ever-changing furniture dipped further against your weight. your hands in his hair, his under your shirt, kissing each other fucking senseless.

"roron-" you tried to start, but he didn't give you an opening. slotting his tongue against yours, the man tried to gulp every inch of you down. his hands moved up and down your back, expert fingers playing with the clasp of your bra. and he pulled back, heaving as he met your gaze, "off."

"no—" you threw your head back, a flurry of kisses against your neck and collarbone. your consciousness slipping past you with each graze of his lips against your naked skin, "z-zoro, we shouldn't."

"but this means nothing," he mumbled against your soft skin, "nothing at all, i promise."

and you found yourself deliriously nodding, helping him make up the candied lies, "and we are pretending to date. yeah? this is normal."

he took off your tshirt, hands coming up to play with your tits through your bra. nodding, he squeezed them, "yeah. yeah, it is, pretty."

"mhm, okay." your pelvis shifted over his, trying to gain friction through the layers of separation. he kissed you again, and you whimpered as he undid your bra and threw it off of you.

his thumb and forefinger rolled the perky nipple between them, his thoughts running off with reckless fantasies as you moaned in his mouth, "—ngh, z-zoro."

his hands lifted your hips, lips never once stilling against you. then, he pulled you down such that you could feel his erection against your core. you moved in tandem to his wild, untamed thrusts. lips parting open to moan out his name when—

"—zoro." a stern voice from outside, and you both froze, still tangled within each other.

shit, shit, shit.

"zoro, can you hear me?" mihawk called out once again, and you scrambled off of the sportsman to go put on your tshirt. zoro yelled back, panicked, "'m playing, gi-gimme a second, dad."

and you caught the man trying to adjust his pants to hide the erection as he got up with jelly for legs. he gave you a once-over, decided you looked decent enough, told you to hide behind the door and scrambled to open the said door.

hiding his lower torso behind the door, zoro gave mihawk the best look of nonchalance he could muster, "uh, yes. what's up, father?"

mihawk stood with an old-fashioned candelabra in his hands. a stoic expression on his face... and a vampire themed night-suit. checks out, yeah. his gaze pierced zoro, "she's not in her room, is she with you?"

"n-" zoro tried to lie, but mihawk glared at his son harder. and zoro crumbled like he was sixteen again, "yes. but we were just playing video games."

"hm? have you seen the time?" the former coach called out your name, and you slid forth from where you were hiding. a meek, "yes, sir?"

"why are you here? don't you have practice tomorrow?"

"n-no, sir." you looked downwards, crumbling like you were sixteen yourself. trying to hope he wouldn't notice zoro's and yours disheveled hair and clothes, you choked out a short, "rest day, sir."

"rest day, is it?" his eyes looked vampirish under the light from the candles, "rest days are meant for resting. not for goofing off."

mihawk stared the two of you down one last time before turning away and treading through the darkened hallways with only his candelabra to hold close. he didn't bother turning to look at you, but his voice was stern, "back to your room, now."

"yes, sir. sorry, sir." you nodded, moving past zoro and walking behind him. but a strong grip on your wrist made you look back. you turned back, confused and zoro — practically shrouded in darkness —pressed a chaste kiss to your nose, "g'night."

before you could look at him and question his intentions, he murmured, "just pretending. sorry."

mihawk yelled over his shoulder, "GET MOVING, YOU TWO."

"SORRY, SIR."

as you walked away from the mosshead, your fingers rested over your nose gingerly, as if you could feel him there still.

you two were going to ruin each other.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

31st of august, 12:25 p.m.

and ruin he did.

his index finger travelled over the dip of your waist, travelling down, down, down till it stilled over the waistband of your shorts. he dragged the cloth downwards, exposing the naked skin to his hungry hands.

you were gonna be his untimely death.

continuing to knead at your slightly exposed hips, his lips slotted against yours feverishly. pressing himself against your back, he built you up only to ruin with his own lips. he pulled you face backwards, closer against him, as his ravished self drank down any defiant moan that escaped you.

"z-zoro." you whispered softly, the words disappearing down the tangled sheets between you. he hummed back just as softly, one hand now disappearing under your t-shirt to harshly tug on your nipple and another came to run a light finger over your drenched slit.

"aah ah zo—" you moaned you as he continued moving his fingers up and down. up and down. up and down. till his finger came to still over your puffy clit, and he rubbed slow circles onto it.

the two of you were in your bed, the lights off as you navigated each other with uncanny ease. he was snug behind you, his erection digging into your thigh as he toyed with you and kissed you down like a man set to ruin you.

his left hand alternated between softly pressing down your tits, to harshly tugging and rolling your nipples in a way that had you barely breathing against his kiss-bitten, reddened lips. all while he right toyed with your clit, dragged sloppily to tease your hole before toying with the trembling nub.

you felt yourself growing stupid, turning into jelly and trying to run away from the man behind you.

"no—" he laughed softly against your skin, "don't run, you want this."

"i do-i don't." you glared back at him through whatever sanity you retained, and he cooed back. taking his fingers off of your soaked cunt, he teased, "you don't? sure?"

"zoro, come on—" you whined, but he shoved the sticky, sweet fingers past your soft lips. a command against the column of your throat, "ask nicely."

his teeth sunk down on your neck, fingers patiently sinking against your tongue, waiting for you to wilt under him. he raised his head, pulling out his wetted fingers. you looked back him, lips dripping with your sweet and spit. your eyes softened but words stayed razor-sharp, "'m not begging."

"no?" he echoed, the wet fingers sinking against your cheek to pull them into an embarrassing pout. his eyebrows furrowed, "no?"

you shook your head despite his firm grip, and he laughed. a boyish laugh, the kind set to tear you apart from within. pressing a kiss to your neck, he dragged his lips upwards to your ears, "guess i'll have to force you, hm?"

and who was roronoa zoro if not a man of his words?

thumbing your clit, his dick rammed into you again and again and again. hot breath fanning your neck, strong arm wrapped around your waist as he dragged you back to meet his ravaging, hungry movements.

you turned your face sideways, panting into the pillows as his thumb pressed down your throbbing nub, and continued to fuck into you like a maddened man.

"come on," he cooed, arm sinking further against your waist and pulling you flush against your chest. his words were tainted with strained breaths, "be nice, baby. ask me, hah- fuck. and i-i'll give you anything."

"ah wh-what?!" you yelped as he turned on his back, pulling your limp body over his chest. your sweaty back against his sculpted, toned torso and his voice ringing into your ear, hysteric almost, "c'mon, be nice, baby. say thankyou."

feet planted in the bed, hips pistoling into your gushing cunt as his fingers teased and pressed down the nub. your shaking hands pressed down against your mouth to shove back any wretched screams that threatened to tear past your pretty lips.

and the sight of trying to hold back cries made him feral. his pelvis smacked against your ass, the skin stinging with each harsh thrust of him cock into your bruised walls. the mushroom tip teased your g-spot and your toes curled as your clit suffered under his unyielding circles, "hah zoro, zo— im gunna cum, 'm cumming, cumming fuckk."

a wretched laugh underneath you as the man continued to chase his own high, fucking into your gummy walls like a man ready to lose everything just to have you. betting on his body, his soul, his sanity with the way your snug cunt milked him, pulling him into you as it throbbed so deliciously.

"zo... please—" hot tears falling past your eyes at the overstimulation as sticky hot filled your cunt to the brim. his fingers thumbed away at your clit though you trashed against him, and tried to pull away. away, away, away.

frenzied pants against the shell of your ears, hips still ramming his already-hard dick into your abused pussy with ease, "what do you want?"

"more." you babbled, eyes rolling back as he kept fucking up into you with no regard from your pulsating, aching cunt, "mo-more please, please, please."

"hah really?—" he laughed, ready to chase his high again. deranged, almost with the way he kept fucking into you. only one thing one his mind: to fuck your limp body even though his mouth grew dry, hips ached and back muscled burned.

how could he stop? just how, when your nails indented themselves against his arms and hot, fat tears fell past your eyes. and those sounds? muffled moans, heavy sighs? ah, you would kill him. and what kind of man would he be if he didn't even thank you properly by fucking you stupid?

you skin stung, waist marked red from how tight his grip was, hair sweaty and eyes rolled back as deranged moans tumbled past your lips. all words just variations of his name.

"zoro, zoro zoro hah- fuck nghh aah—" he lapped a hot stripe up your neck, tasting your salty skin as you bounced mindlessly against him and came over his aching cock. words caught in your throat and your limp body stilling against him, drowning him in such a pretty shade of white from both of your orgasms.

"shit," he mumbled, feeling the viscid liquid slowly travelling down his veiny shaft as he pulled it out. he softly let you off of him, letting you snuggle your sweaty forehead against his clothed chest. chest heaving up and down, cheeks flushed and lips reddened. his gaze trailed down your weary figure and down to your inner thighs, glistening with sticky residue of him on you.

what a fucking sight.

and zoro was just a mortal man, at the end. so how can you blame him for finding you in the middle of the night, pinning you down and fucking into you with reckless abandon for the next few nights? stealing kisses in the darkened hallways, huffing softly as your palmed him softly and straddled his hips under the pretense of "asking him for advice on the game."

"we shouldn't." you would mutter every time without fail, even as you allowed his easy access to tear off your panty and fuck you full till you were delirious and about to pass out with his name as a mantra.

"don't worry," he would always mumbled back, words honeyed against your sweet lips, "don' worry at all, pretty. this means nothing, hm?"

and you would nod along, letting him to mark you up again. he would be the death of you.

8th of september, 7:32 p.m.

and he was.

"you've been terrible lately," robin admitted seriously, "your focus is elsewhere, and you look like you haven't slept in a week."

your gaze drifted downwards, "i'm sorry, coach."

her voice was gentle and you were struck at how young she sounded. she was once your age and number one, and you were getting hung up over one boy.

she read your expression, the bitter twang of guilt in your eyes, and her delicate fingers came to rest under her chin, "don't be sorry. but get serious." she paused, "don't lose yourself over a man, it won't be worth it."

"of course, coach." you nodded, and robin dismissed you with another stern look. and as you sat in the passenger seat of zoro's sportscar, you became hyper-aware of his hand on your thigh, of his words and how casually he talked to you.

end this. now.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

11th of september, 8:03 p.m.

"ohmygod, zoro." you mumbled lowly against his lips, hands finding purchase against his crisp white shirt, "you're overdoing it."

his left arm tightened against your waist, right hand coming to hold yours against his chest, and head tilting to kiss you harder. he pulled back to look at you. your eyes shut, lipstick smudged, and manicured arms creasing, ruining his shirt. ruining him.

fuck, you were divine. and he was a man at your mercy.

the sportsman stammered out, words barely audible, "'m not. did you not get the memo?"

you had, unfortunately.

after talking to robin, you had managed to avoid zoro for quite a few days. and when you finally met his eyes over dinner, he just gave you an understanding look. no love, no brooding, no nothing! maybe, he understood this was a pr stunt, after all.

but then, sanji had called you up, bumbling with excitement, "my love!"

"sanji." you had laughed at his excitement, staring at your ceiling as you lay on your bed, "what's up?"

"okay," he had stilled, questioning his excitement, "you're gonna hate this, i think. but—"

the laugh had died in your throat, "what is it."

"so, you're invited to the get-together being held by the worldwide badminton association, how fun!" you had sat up, unamused, "okay, and? there's more, right?"

"well, roronoa zoro's invited too."

"no."

and the memo had been to take the pda up whenever necessary and convince everyone how utterly in love you two were. maddened by it, in fact.

so, now, you two were holed up in the bathroom, doing whatever this was. zoro raised his thumb to your lips, slowly cleaning the mess he had created, and you almost flinched at how careful he was being.

"you know," you drawled out slowly, letting him work the smudges, "we could have just smudged my lipstick, without actually kissing. and people would have caught on."

"hm?" he hummed, still invested in perfecting his craft. and your eyes trailed downwards to his exposed neck and chest, littered with red markings; courtesy of you. "better to be thorough. can't afford to mess it up, right?"

"right." you looked up at him, eyes stalling at his reddened lips before you turned around to look at the closed door, "ready to go outside and pretend to be in love?"

"of course."

"great." you breathed out, looking back at zoro one last time.

he was dressed in a smart navy button-down and dress slacks. and you were dressed in a matching navy, silken slip dress and dainty heels, hair styled in soft waves to match the man behind you.

he opened the door, letting you out with a million dollar smile on his face as he posed for the paps that dwelled in the crowd. you took his hand gingerly, mirroring his giddy expression as you stepped out and were blinded by the snaps of glittering lies and gossip.

the power couple emerge disheveled?! how scandlous!

the two of you mingled within the crowds, hand in hand, with promises of life and death, and stolen glances. the crowd cooed and the interviewers threw one question after the other at the two of you. zoro answered each question with a hint of smile, fingers never once leaving your waist.

"so? do you think she's the one?" an official's wife asked, chasing the question with a giddy laugh.

"of course. who else, if not her?" he answered smoothly. he turned to look at you, head dipping down ever-so-slightly. his breath warm against your neck, neat hair falling against your skin, and a breathy, "what do you think, baby?"

"i— yeah. i think he's the one. he's..." you blinked up at him, eyes widening as he smiled at you again, "perfect."

you put on a faux smile as the man nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. and, you were lead to your demise with a wicked epiphany: this man would eat away your sanity. someday, somehow. he will.

"well, isn't it a bit weird to see roronoa see smile so much?" another official asked, "he's always so stoic that this seems wrong, somehow."

"well, i'm not smiling at you. am i, oldy?" as if to prove his point, the sportsman pressed his lips into a thin line.

"hah, ever the charming gentleman." the man laughed, trying to mask the disrespect under layers of jokes. you laughed along, clutching zoro's bicep in an last-ditch effort to save the mosshead's reputation, "well, you know how his humor is."

what a fucking headache this man was.

12:12 a.m.

"ugh." you groaned as soon as your back hit the leather seat of zoro's car. getting comfortable, you muttered a low, "thank god that shit's over."

your nimble fingers came to tear off the heavy, rented diamond earrings off of your ears. your feet ached, your head ached and as you caught the sight of zoro adjusting his seat, your heart ached.

he was pretty under the dim light. shit.

"you good?" he leaned over you, muscled arm tugging the seat-belt and strapping you in, "do your feet hurt? i can take off your heels for you, if you wa—"

"no." you looked away from him, heart pumping at the close proximity, "i'm fine."

"ah, okay then. suit yourself." he pulled back, and put his seat-belt on. the mosshead changed gears and soon enough, you were cruising down ghostly roads.

why was he acting like you two were together? it nauseated you. made your head spin. made you feel stupid, seventeen and like you'd fall right back into the death trap that was roronoa zoro.

you both sat in silence, and the moon hung low, the stars twinkling in the night sky like forbidden jewels. all was good, all was great. till you decided to ruin whatever ounce of peace remained between the two of you. your fingers turned down the volume of the song blaring in the background, till all that remained was venomous silence and you and him, and him and you.

"roronoa."

he hummed to signal he was listening.

you drew in a strained breath, you're not my boyfriend, and you will never be. not even in the future." your icy words the only sound in the car, "i hope you understand that."

roronoa zoro looked at you, and then replied slowly, "yes, i do."

"this is just a publicity stunt," you declared, "and once this shit is over, i am gonna walk away and never see your face again."

the car made it's way down a deserted road, "yes, i know that too."

your eyes narrowed at his simple answers but you kept gawking at the road ahead, "you don't act like you know it, though."

he grew silent, and you waited for his response. moments passed you by in uncomfortable silence but then, finally, "i was told to pretend i love you, and i am doing what i was told."

"when have you been the one to follow rules?"

the man sighed, "do i need to have an excuse to love you?"

"love me?" you scoffed, "i am sorry for fighting old battles, but you left me."

his knuckles grew white and he pressed the breaks. the car jolted abruptly before being parked at one side. a beat passed, then another, and another. then, "i was seventeen."

"that's the problem." you undid your seatbelt, eyes trained ahead, "i am not angry that you chose your fucking career over me. good for you, you're at number one! huzzah! but you left. just like that."

"i am sorry." he looked straight ahead too, voice tainted with guilt, "i truly am sorry—"

"sorry wouldn't fix shit, would it?" still not meeting each other's eyes. cowards. both of you. "all i wanted was a phone-call, maybe a fucking email. fax, maybe? anything. anything to tell me where you went. that you were fucking sorry, and that this was for the best."

"i kno—"

"—doesn't seem like you do, zoro." you spat out, words turning vile at the tip of your tongue, "you just fucking ran."

"believe me, it wasn't selfish." his voice was low, the kind that reverberated against the metallic car frame and came back to you. you replied back easily, "it wasn't selfless either."

and you two fell into silence once again. your head spun, words stuck in your throats. accusations, grievances, foul words.

you paid it no mind and your fingers softly unlocked the car door. you stepped out, walking away from the expensive car. and as the night air hit you, you were acutely reminded of just how stupid the situation was. you, still clinging onto a heartbreak from five years ago. honestly, you should swallow down that bitter pill and forget it.

but how could you forget it? how? when the subject of your heartbreak was calling out your name, slamming his side of the door as he chased after you, as if afraid to lose you once more.

his calloused fingers grabbed ahold of your wrist, "wh-where are you going?"

"nowhere," you didn't bother to turn around to see his face. your voice, or whatever words you spewed forth were monotone, devoid of anything human, "just wanted some fresh air, roronoa. go, sit in the car. i'll be back in two minutes."

"don't do this." zoro tugged your wrist backwards, trying to turn your body to face his, to atleast dignify him with a look as you broke his heart.

"don't do what?" you stilled, unmoving as he tugged you back delicately. "i told you that i will be back—"

"d-don't leave." his voice cracked uncharacteristically, "i— if you're angry at me, hit me. curse me. shoot me. do whatever you please with my heart, but look at me. don't turn your back on me."

under the moonlight, it seemed like you were cruel. because you remained unmoving as hot tears pricked at your lash line and your nose grew warmer, "when have i been the one to turn my back on you, zo?"

he flinched at the nickname. his voice was desperate, words limited to calling out your name over and over again. he stepped closer, warm breath on your goosebump-ish skin, desperate, "don't leave, please. please. i fu— i fucked up, i know."

"—no calls, no texts, nothing. you're a phantom and i'm the fucking idiot waiting around on you for a whole year." your voice stayed the same, wretched, monotonous tone. as if he wasn't even here and you were just confessing your heartaches to the night sky, "you know, on my eighteenth birthday, my parents asked me to blow out a candle and wish for something. and i wished for you. that you came back. how fucking stupid."

"i'm sorry, please."

but you were a woman anguished, so you continued, "and maybe some deity heard me. because i saw you again. after a year, i saw you at an event by the worldwide badminton association. but then, whenever you saw me again, you avoided me like the fucking plague for the next five years."

"i thought i was saving you," his voice sunk past your flesh and deep into your bones, "i thought i was saving both of us the heartbreak becaus-because i loved you."

and then you felt it. wayward droplets on water falling on wrist as his head hung low. zoro's voice shook, interwoven with slow drags of breath that barely held the stoic man behind you together, "i wanted to save you the heartbreak cause i love you."

he called out your name again, his calloused fingers digging against the silken cloth as if you would run away. words only growing heavier as tear after tear fell down his face, "i know i was so stupid. it was... it was selfish, and stupid—"

"realized so soon?" tears welled in your eyes, body struggling against his hold, "you know, after you left town, i got better at this wretched game for you. so that someday.... some fucking day, i would be on your fucking level. then, i'd look you in the eyes and tell you to fuck off. say it with my all of my fucking chest."

you turned around, letting his touch scorch your skin, desperate pangs of breath be the only indication either one of you was alive. you slowly brought a hand up to his face. his bloodshot eyes met yours, lips trembling. you looked like he just stabbed you in the heart. "but now, i'm here. and you're here. and i just wanna ask. i— did i mean nothing to you, zo?"

and with that, roronoa zoro lost all sanity.

"'m sorry. im sorry, im sorry, im s-sorry—" heavy tears fell down his face, as did he; crumbling down, and only being held up by your support. he sobbed against your skin, tears falling and tainting your skin as he chanted apologies against your skin.

and mindlessly, almost like you were built for the sole purpose of holding him against your mortal body, your hands raked through his hair and he held you tighter.

he collected himself, lifting his gaze just to disintegrate at your tear-stained face all over again, "i-i thought it would hurt less if i said nothing, and you would think of it as a bad breakup... and move on. you would forget me, and i, you. but i couldn't."

bottom lip trembling, he found his forehead against yours, hand on your cheek, "i fucking couldn't. day and night, all i could think of was you."

your breath heaved pathetically. body, mind and soul almost giving into the alchemy that was this man. but you shut your eyes, words cut-throat, "and that makes this suffering worth it?"

"i dunno," he shook his head softly, eyes clenched shut, "i dunno anything at all. b-but i know i love you, i do. and i've hurt you but—" he stepped back, eyes begging, "i'd make it up to you. i promise. give me a chance, and i—"

a chance? a fucking chance? after five years of avoiding you, two months of pretending like you were nothing more than a doubles partner, he wanted a chance? hah, funny.

"zoro." your body grew stiff under him, eyes boring into his bloodshot ones without any lingering emotion, "we should go home, it's getting cold. i said what i had to say, and you heard it all."

"hey, hey—" his hands fell on your shoulders, as his voice shook, "please, i will fix—"

"—let's go home, zoro. please."

you drove home in silence. and when you both made it back home, mihawk didn't ask any questions about your bloodshot eyes, or about the way zoro disappeared in his room without even a word.

and then, you stopped talking to roronoa zoro.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

28th of september, 9:01 a.m.

it had been almost three weeks since you confronted zoro.

and in those three weeks you had lost count of how many times the mosshead came to your door, knocked, and left before saying anything at all. you had lost count of how many times he showed up outside your practice court, gave you a posed kiss for any paps around, and then drove you back home in silence with your old favourite songs in the background. you had lost count of how many times he left cup noodles, chocolates, and whatever else he could find at your door wordlessly, and how many times you found his asleep at your door.

it was all in vain, though. you were done with him.

no matter how much you wanted to stop him, and talk to him when he came knocking. no matter how much you wanted to smile at him when he came to pick you up. how much you wanted to talk to him about your practice, and to ask for his feedback. no matter how hungry you felt, how desolate you felt for his words, for his skimming touches. you refused to give in. you turned roronoa zoro down, always.

if you allowed him in, you would be rendered useless. battling heartache again for the nth time, wouldn't you?

"so, this is it?" you asked slowly, and your mouth grew dry despite the bottle of beer in your hands, "we're done?"

"yes!" sanji clapped his hands. his voice was clear through the speaker, "we're nearing the end. aren't you glad? you would never have to see that mosshead again!"

"r-right." you swallowed, "that is good. that is what i want."

you sounded unconvinced to your own ears, god knows what sanji was making out of your words? as if echoing your thoughts, your manager stilled. he blew out smoke before wondering out loud, "do you want to continue this further? if that is indeed the case then—"

"no." you replied firmly, cutting the blonde off. "just give me the details of when to end this, and how. fucking end this."

"well... if you say so." he continued, "your doubles championship is two weeks away."

you nodded consciously as your mind drifted to boa hancock and the possibility of losing all over again. sanji inhaled smoke like it was second nature to him, and then spoke again, "in three days, we leak that you and roronoa are done for." sanji grinned, a businessman at his very core. "but then you two make a public appearance to prove the rumors wrong. a week and half later, you win the tournament, and we confirm you've both broken up. and just like that, you're a sensation, love!"

"that's it?"

"that's it! and anytime, anyone asks you about him? you just say you don't wanna talk about it." sanji paused, "sounds good to you?"

"from what i understand, i just need to focus on the tournament and you'd handle the rest?"

"of course, darling."

"okay, then." you inhaled slowly, "just two more weeks."

"just two more."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

13th of october, 10:03 a.m.

this was bad. this was bad. this was bad.

you tried to stabilize your breathing before you went down spiraling and took your team with you. your eyes darted to the blue-haired girl next to you. vivi. her skin gimmered and glittered as if she was royalty by blood, and she glanced back at you to give you a re-assuring smile.

in the court front of you stood boa hancock and her sister, boa marigold. both of them stood, unphased. not a wayward sweat-drop nor strained breaths. and it dawned on you for the third time that these women were in a league apart from you, as if separated by DNA itself.

your 16 points to rival their 20 points. you were losing the finals. badly, at that.

"what do we do?" vivi whispered to you, and you found the resolve weakening in her eyes. and you were acutely reminded that this was the blue-haired girl's first doubles tournament. you gave her a reassuring smile, "try to play defensive for a bit. they are trying to wear us down with constant attacks, and all we can do is try not to fall into their trap."

"conserve our energy for now, right?" vivi nodded, taking her position back in court.

your eyes ran over the crowd once more in hopes for a recognizable mosshead but you found no trace of him. well, that made sense. he wasn't supposed to come show today since the two of you "broke up."

you sighed, and your brows furrowed as you focused on the game. that bastard be damned.

but shot after shot after shot, the conclusion remained the same. the two sisters inched closer to victory as they bagged another point. all while you and vivi tried to cling onto the delusions of winning the tournament. and then—

fwoosh.

the shuttle made it past your ear with a soft wheeze, and your eyes trained on boa hancock watched the woman crack a wicked smile. her sister clung onto the older raven-head and you found yourself stuck, frozen, unmoving as vivi cried out in defeat and fell to her knees.

you lost. again. how fucking pathetic.

an impossibly heavy weight fell atop your chest, throat closing up as tears rushed to your eyes. but you blinked them away, instead choosing to pick vivi up and wish the boa sisters congratulations.

you lost. oh well. always the idiot that stayed, never the star player, right?

1:03 p.m.

you felt like your mouth was full of tar, throat closing up as the news reporters and interviewers peered you and your partner down.

"this is the third major tournament you've lost against boa hancock," the interviewer pushed his spectacles up, "do you think you'd ever be able to catch upto her?"

"well," you smiled, "she's number one for a reason. and this just goes on to show that i have so much learn to—" your gaze ran through the media people that sat in front of you and it felt like all of them were scrutinizing you under their hawk-like gazes.

you gulped, smiling harder, "i have to learn so much yet. and i wish, i do wish to get better. of course. but i have nothing but utter respect for the boa sisters."

"are you and zoro actually done for?" another voice asked, and you tried avoiding to look at the source. if you could ignore the question, then it'll be like it wasn't even there. but more voices piled on. more, more, more. till you felt like zoro's name was everywhere.. all-consuming. and your hands shook as you tried to sip down water.

but vivi came to your rescue. her polite tone turning vile as she leaned forward into her mic, "i would implore you to ask relevant questions only. i admire roronoa zoro, but he has nothing to do with our match."

"so, this means you and zoro are done for? but what was the reason?" the voices tried to dissect a relationship that didn't exist, "did he realize he couldn't be with someone beneath him? as his title as the number one, did you threaten his legac—"

"shut up. shut the fuck up." your voice was soft against the mic, eyes malicious, "this is enough. thank you."

and you found yourself dragging your chair backwards and walking away from the panel you and vivi were sat on. your guards behind you and vivi as you walked down the wretched hallways. the blue-haired trailed after you, her tone worried, "hey, are you okay? they're assholes, ignore them. hey—"

but you couldn't hear anything.

a low buzzing in your head, and your body felt like jelly as tears threatened to fall again. something sharp in your chest dug itself deeper and deeper till it made a home in your bones. and the overhead lighting of the halls felt too bright as you walked away from the stadium and to your car. and next you knew, you stood at the reception to the hotel. mindlessly collecting your key and walking over to the elevator, you felt nothing.

you felt nothing as you had entered the hotel lobby and the dizzying smell of expensive perfumes permeated your figure. you felt nothing as you passed the expensive marble halls to reach the elevator. in fact, you felt nothing as the metallic box creaked slowly and you reached the fifth floor.

but... did you feel nothing as you stepped out the elevator, took slow steps and lifted your head up just to find roronoa zoro standing at your door?

you halted and he looked at you before pursing his lips, as if unable to say anything at all.

and you shared the same sentiments. so, you just nodded at him. not even bothering to ask why he was here, how he was where? why? you simply walked upto him, swiped the key-card and stepped in, allowing the mosshead to step in after you.

"you're not supposed to be here." you admitted, locking the door. giving him a brief look over your shoulder, "we're done pretending."

"i'm aware."

you hummed, walking past him and collapsing at the edge of the bed. your nimble fingers moved downwards to your shoes as you began to undo the laces. but calloused fingers stopped yours, as zoro kneeled down to peel the shoes off your aching feet.

"you don't have to." you tried to reason but his head was tilted downwards, avoiding your piercing gaze, "i know."

you sighed, "i'm tired, zoro."

he moved the white shoes to the side, "let me run you a bath."

your palms fell flat against the soft mattress, voice tethering on the edge of unraveling, "i didn't know you were here. you weren't in the audience in the stadium."

"i was." he looked up, eyes softening at your downcast features, "i- jus' thought we were done pretending, so, didn't try to make a show of it."

"that's nice of you," you replied back softly, head tipped back to stare at the spotless ceiling. but the man cut you off, "you did good."

the crisp linen under the palms fisted involuntarily, your lips pressing into a thin line, "you don't need to flatter me."

"'m not." he stayed kneeling, tender gaze against your weary body. he repeated, "you did good."

lips trembling, eyes clenched shut, and throat closing up all over again, "i did not. i lost."

"stop saying it like that." he repeated, slowly getting up. and your bloodshot eyes met his as your body slumped forward. hands still digging into the flimsy linen, you stared up at him, "it's the fuckin' t-truth. i lost."

his careful touch lingered on your cheek, "you did more than enough. good job."

and everything inside you melted at his foolhardy touches, sobs racking through your body as he wrapped his arms around your and you clenched his t-shirt instead of those unfamiliar sheets. fuck. fuck. fuck. your tears wetted his shirt as you body shook against his familiar touches.

his heavy body grounded you, the familiar scent engulfing you as your world as you knew it crumbled around you. desperate, desolate, pangs of air hit his abdomen as you tried to catch your breath. only to fail, and break out in a sob, "—an' i tried. i did."

he stayed shut, allowing laments to drop down your words and land against his skin. your fisted hands landed against him weakly, striking over and over again, "fuck you. asshole." you breathed heavily before your voice grew weaker, "fuck you."

"'m sorry." he caught your hands slowly and held them still against his chest. you could feel the faint thrumming of his heart. thump, thump, thump. the same heart that so desperately tried to get you to love him again. but when had you ever stopping the man above you?

his calloused palms pressed against yours as you dragged your eyes up at him, and your breath got caught against the tangible threads of your lucidity.

roronoa zoro looked at you like you were his god.

he kneeled, meeting you on your eye-level. his hands pulled yours upwards, and he pressed another chaste kiss to the back of your palm.

and all of a sudden you were reminded of being sixteen, sitting on his old house's roof under the night sky, and asking him, "zo, why do you always kiss my hands?"

"because i'm a weirdo." he huffed out, and you grinned in return, "is perona's emo rubbing off on you. first the hair dye, and now this?"

his eyes widened, the sudden realization sneaking up on him like a viper, "no!" and he broke into a furious blush on that random autumn night.

"tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me~" you rubbed your body against his arm and he shivered under your touch. finally yielding to you, as he always did, he sighed. when he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper, "as... as a sportsman, my hands are all i have. and you're all i have."

and now the same man mumbled against your mortal flesh, promising ruins and riches in the same breath, "you can hit me, curse me, do whatever you want. just let me stay."

"how can i? it hurts."

and it did. all of it. your head, your legs, your chest, your heart. delicate hands trying to break free from him, tears spewing forth again and again and again till you met his eyes, heaving. expecting him to look at you with disdain, and finally giving up.

but his eyes was warm, hands soft against your skin, words honeyed, "then let me make it better." he came upwards, and his thumb swiped at the fallen tears, "let me try. one last time."

the resolve in his voice hardened, "give me one month. i'll win you back."

one month?

a/n: haha, look it's the girl who was stupid enough to fucking believe this story will end in two parts. i'm convinced nobody's gonna read it. but eh, what can you do? when it's done, it's done. i am contemplating making an ao3 account just so i can post longer stuff, so i hope if there's even one person who likes the idea of that, let me know! sorry this was so long guys :') tagging: @litlebruh @mist-ixx @briezy04764 @otkuhotgirl tysm for reading! i appreciate you guys sm! m.list

#one piece #op #opla #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro smut #roronoa zoro smut #zoro x reader smut #the op aus series <3 #one piece au series #vix writes <3 #one piece smut #op smut #one piece x reader smut #one piece x reader #zoro angst

215 notes · View notes

petermorwood · 1 year ago

Text

Potato Crisps / Chips on Tasting History

So we've just watched Max's latest...

youtube

...and I was grinning a bit because I posted about Dr Kitchiner's 1817 (non-US, definitely non-Saratoga) crisps / chips recipe a month ago.

That image was from an American edition of his book; I've found a pic from the original - NB that these slices are floured before frying.

For reference, here's a two-penny piece from about 1797; the coin would still be current 20 years later:

...and here's how thick the potatoes should be sliced. That's 4mm, which is 2mm less than "a quarter of an inch" (6.25mm).

The slices will get even thinner as their moisture evaporates during frying, and, given the nature of recipes, potatoes cooked this way are probably even older than 1817 and Kitchiner's is just the first appearance found so far in print.

*****

The first recipe for "Game Chips" (an accompaniment to grouse, pheasant etc.) appeared, per the Wikipedia link, in a 1903 book published by famous chef Auguste Escoffier (1846-1935):

"Chip potatoes - these are potatoes cut into thin slices; this is usually done with a special plane. (A mandoline.) They are put in cold water for 10 minutes; then drained, dried in a cloth and fried until very crunchy. They are served hot or cold and generally accompany game roasted in the English style."

However, per Escoffier's Wikipedia page, much of his work was based on that of Anton Carême (1783-1833), whose dates are squarely coincident with Dr Kitchiner's Potato Slices.

Given the amount of cookery to-and-fro between England and France after the Napoleonic wars were over, it's impossible to say who first came up with the idea of potato crisps.

The French loved dainties - "un petit quelquechose", a little something - which the English pronounced and dismissed as "kickshaws", something over-fussy yet insubstantial. Yet those same English also loved roasting things with their appropriate accompaniments.

(I'm writing this just over a week after Christmas, and have been well reminded that the phrase "Roast (turkey / goose / beef) With All The Trimmings" is still in common 21st-century use.)

If those roasted things were game birds, only those above a certain level in society would be eating them, so it's not unreasonable to assume a rich-person game bird would attract fussy, time-consuming rich-person trimmings like, okay, Game Chips.

One thing's for sure, Potato Crisps - and Game Chips too, so hard luck, Escoffier - are almost certainly older than even Tasting History could prove.

*****

BTW, they also existed at a time when "English Food Was Bland" is more fake history.

Sauces put out on the table in fancy bottles had fancy labels ("bottle tickets") showing what was in them, and the contents were often far from bland.

Quin sauce was anchovy-based, hot and pungent.

Harvey's was a spicy sauce similar to Worcestershire, ketchup was probably mushroom and also spicy; the other two need no elaboration.

AFAIK the two crescent-shaped ones in the next pics are deliberate imitations of an officer's rank-gorget.

Finally a generic Not-Bland label that would go on any number of modern bottles (antique silver, yours for £250)...

*****

And after all of the above, I could do Very Bad Things to a packet of Tayto Cheese 'n' Onion. A packet?

Why stop at a packet when A Pack takes less time to say?

After all, It Is Written that:

"Reading One Book Is Like Eating One Potato Crisp Chip."

And also that Nothing Exceeds Like Excess...

#food and drink #potato crisps #game chips #Tasting History with Max Miller #Diane Duane #Reading one book is like...#...like eating one potato chip #wise words maxims and apothegms #Youtube

607 notes · View notes

thefangirlfever · 8 months ago

Text

MIGUEL O'HARA x reader (18+, smut) MDNI

firefighter AU🧑‍🚒🔥🚒

Art credit: @kit-and-wolfe on Tumblr

Summary: You and Miguel are dating and he had hidden from you that he took part to a fireman’s calendar.

Notes: Just a silly idea I got from seeing multiple great firefighter Aus and a conversation with I had with @lazyjellyfish300 about Miguel! firefighter getting flustered. This story is a direct continuation of this post.

Tags: smut, F/M, AU, Firefighter AU, cunnilingus, PIV penetration, established relationship, fingering, no plot just smut, horny FMC, dirty talk (may be cringe), mention of masturbation (F/M), aftercare, breast and nipple play, hint at size kink, discussion around contraception

Word count: 3858 words

April was now your favorite month of the year. Most people would think that it was because you were excited about the upcoming Spring, the Sun in the sky and all those things, or maybe it was your birthday’s month. But you were unfortunately more pragmatic.

No, it was simply that the picture on your calendar for this month was to die for. Lying on glazed paper, in A4 format, a hand on his hip and his helmet on the other a tall, stupidly handsome man was looking at the camera with a bedroom look in his eyes. Firefighters have never been your thing, and you even considered it weird that a whole profession could be fetishized in a way or another but...that was different. You had to admit that you kind of see the appeal of it now. Honestly, this man could be anything else than a firefighter and you would probably still get the hots while looking at his picture.

Abs for days, rock hard chest with the right amount of thick, curly black hair that lazily trailed down toward a mouth-watering happy trail (that could only let you presume of a thick, happy bush), the infamous V-line that made his hips dip sensually under oily skin… Well, they really went all out with this picture. It was probably a bit edited but still...They even left his five o’clock shadow and the scar on his left arm. Good. Very good. That’s some professional job, you could tell.

You could have spend hours looking at this picture and still find new details about it. In fact the idea was very tempting, hence why your calendar was still stuck on the month of April despite being already mid-August. The calendar was pinned on your fridge and you could look at it every time you would cook or eat, which was exactly what you were doing right now. Well, at least you were trying because as soon as you would try to bring your fork to your mouth, your eyes would land again on the perfect picture.

The fact that you knew the model didn’t help at all your trouble.

You had met Miguel a few months ago through joined acquaintances and you didn’t even know he was a firefighter at the time. He would rarely speak about his job, not even to complain about it. And certainly not to brag. You quickly realized that he was quite secretive and shy when it came to his private life. It was very rare, almost impossible to hear him brag and he didn’t really take compliments very well. No idea where this insecurity could come from. He was quite a catch honestly, not even speaking physically. Miguel was overall someone nice and caring, as if his job didn’t already convey this trait of his personality enough. Maybe that’s why the two of you got along very well. When he was devoted to the well-being of most people and selfless, you were selfish, pragmatic and even a bit bitter. He was the type of person who would wake up at 4 in the morning to help the others and you were the type of person who after waking up at 10 am would shamelessly ogle the picture of a half-naked man, wondering about the size of his…

Your phone softly buzzed, taking you out your daydream. As soon as Miguel’s name appeared on the screen, you came back to your senses and picked up the phone.

“Hi…”

“Were you still sleeping?”, he asked with an amused voice. While most people would find you lazy, Miguel had simply accepted that your lifestyle was not his and that you were more of a night owl. This doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t tease you from time to time about it.

You rubbed your hand over your tired eyes and groaned into the phone:

“No...I was...eating...is there a problem?”

“You left your sweater in my car yesterday. I thought I could come give it back to you after training.”

Your brain took a few seconds to understand his words but when it did, your eyes opened wide and you jumped to your feet, scurrying toward the front door.

“You’re already here?”

“Well, I was in the neighborhood and I thought I could stop by. I also brought breakfast since I thought you would have just waken up…”

He sounded almost apologetic as if he had dragged you of bed. Your heart stammered into your chest and a stupid grin curled up your lips. Sweet, selfless Miguel. How did he manage to always make your cold demeanor crumble? That was a mystery to you.

You opened the door and there, stood Miguel, a large bag of edibles in his arm, your sweater perfectly folded in a small bag while he was still holding his phone. And as if the sight of him wasn’t sweet enough already, he was still wearing his athleisure clothes, ie a tank top and loose grey shorts. His skin was covered in a thin sheet of sweat and his brown locks were stuck to his temples and the back of his neck. A treat for the eyes.

The moment he saw you in your sleepwear, he turned off his phone and a small blush crept up his face. You were only wearing a short and a tank top but he didn’t mind. That was...quite a nice view.

“Well, you are definitely awake.”, he joked quietly as you made sign for him to enter the apartment. “I was afraid that I would wake you up.”

You could definitely wake me up anytime you want.

“No, don’t worry, it’s fine.” You grabbed the bag he was handing you with your sweater inside. It was neatly folded, even better than what you would usually do to your clothes. You might as well invite him over to share breakfast with you. Miguel gladly accepted and followed you to the kitchen and as much as he tried to be a gentleman his eyes would always end up following the sway of your hips and the very appealing bounce of your butt. He started to feel a bit tight in his shorts and this feeling only increased when he noticed that you weren’t wearing a bra under your top. He cleared his throat, trying to chase those thoughts away; it was too early in the morning for this.

“I found this small french bakery down the block and I thought you would like to try these…”, he said while putting down the bag on the central island of the kitchen. The buzzing sound of the coffee machine filled the air just when you replied to him:

“Oh yeah, I actually wanted to try this one. Thanks.”

And now your nipples were pointing under the shirt.

Great.

This definitely didn’t help the situation down his pants and he wisely chose to advert his gaze...only to fall on the dreaded picture he hoped you would never hear about. A rush of color filled up his cheeks and he was practically sure he wasn’t half-hard or hard at all anymore. What was this thing doing here?

You turned around to put his mug of coffee down the counter and that’s when you noticed where his eyes were. Not on you, unfortunately, but on the calendar.

Shit!

You didn’t even bother to put it on the right month. Hopefully Miguel would take it as it is, a compliment. But the moment you saw his brows furrow and his jaw tighten, you had a serious doubt.

“Hum...Miguel?”

He didn’t respond at first and when he looked back in your direction, he still seemed very ashamed, almost mortified. A pink hue was covering his cheeks and the back of his ears. Seems like you were going to have a lot of fun...

“Yes?”

You let the silence last a bit more before replying: “Is there a problem?”

“No. No...why would there be any problem?”

“Because you’re all red in the face suddenly. I was wondering if something was making you feel uncomfortable…”, you asked innocently. At this point of your relationship, he should know better. He should know what this coy tone meant but he still fell in the trap: “It’s just… Where did you even get this calendar?”

“Does it bother you?”

“No...it’s just...a bit tacky. I didn’t think you would like something like this…”, he replied in a sheepish voice. If you knew any better than this, that man was flustered.

“It’s practical.”, you simply reply with a shrug of your shoulders, dismissing the embarrassment in his voice. Miguel awkwardly chuckled: “Then why is it stuck on April?”

“Touché.”, you replied with a sly grin. You then took a sip of your coffee and his eyes wouldn’t leave the shape of your lips molding against the edge of the cup or the way your eyes still looked at him under your lashes, as if you were a cat playing with a mouse. All this little game was making him feel hot under the collar and he nervously ran his hand through his hair.

“Maybe...I just like the picture.”, his eyes were trying to avoid your gaze but they would eventually flutter back to the alluring shape of your silhouette. “Maybe...this is just making me feel curious.”

He didn’t need to ask about what it made you feel curious. Your tone was already giving him enough hints and he could only sheepishly chuckle, almost giggling while the red in his cheeks intensified. “You can’t be serious…”

“What if I am?”

Your blunt answer took him by surprise and you took this short moment to move a bit closer to him but still keeping your hands to yourself, even if the urge to rest them against his body was becoming stronger by the minute.

You had just been thinking about this these last weeks. Ever since you brought that calendar back home, all you could think about was the moment you would get to lay on top of him, run your hands down his abdomen, unto some more exciting territory, crossing every single line. The image of his body would haunt you during your alone time, making you wish it was his hands bending you, making you scream and turning you into some drained but satisfied mush.

His breath faltered when your fingers hovered above the soft cotton of his sweater. The fabric clung to his body, drawing out the shape and relief of his build silhouette, all in sharp angles and dips like some statue.

“Maybe I want to see a bit more..."

Your fingers trailed down his torso, from his chest to his abdomen and you could feel the way his heartbeat quickened as well as the way his body tensed and arched into your touch, yielding against your fingers. The hard contour of his silhouette was being traced, made more noticeable for your eyes and your eyes only. Your hungry gaze made him feel wanted in a way he didn’t know was possible; a special talent of yours. Standing there, still covered in sweat and fresh out of his training, he couldn’t believe you still wanted him. And yet…

“You want to see more?”, he asked under his breath and with a quick nod from you, he took your hands guided them over his body.

Your fingers soon slipped under the fabric of his tank top and you rose on your tip toes in an attempt to kiss him. Given the height difference between you, he quickly opted for the easiest solution. His arms scooped you up and placed your body on top of the counter, shortening the distance between you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you didn’t waste a single second to pull him closer to you but you still managed to surprise him. He was not expecting for your lips to aim for his shoulder rather than his mouth and with a low groan, he welcomed the caress of your lips onto his skin as you traced your way up his neck.

The pressure of his fingers grew tighter on your sides as this make-out session turned steamier. Your nipping on his neck made him react almost immediately. His fingers slid down lower on your body and soon gave your ass a firm squeeze. He needed to get you out of these shorts and quickly. Your soft whimper onto his neck told him he was doing everything right and his hands kept kneading your soft rear while your own diligent hands removed his top, leaving your eyes free to feast on the sight of his after-work body. Every word you uttered seemed to get straight to his cock as he felt it practically twitch every time you would breathe a bit harder on his skin or tell him how nice he felt, how gorgeous he was.

“Lay down...just...get on your back…”, his breath was a bit more labored as he helped you lying down the counter. You were pinned under him when his hands finally lifted up your top, exposing your perky breasts. He had spent so much time fantasizing about them, this morning only they had been on his mind almost all-workout. Last night during your date, he couldn’t get his eyes out of them as soon as you would look away and they had been tempting too much since he entered your apartment. The perky mounds stuck out, resting on your chest like a crown, the tanned lines from your bikini making them stand out even more proudly. After a few seconds spent admiring them, he dipped his head onto the soft cleavage presented to him, not doing anything else than resting his face there at first.

Your hands stroked his hair, pulling him closer into your embrace and you began grinding your hips onto his aching cock. The shape of his erection was visible under the grey fabric as it strained against it, begging for release. He would wait. He always waited. There was no need to rush with someone like you. Even when he was alone, he would always take his time fantasizing about the endless possibilities of your body rather than bringing himself to climax quickly. There was no such thing as a quickie with him and today was no exception. He will focus on every single part of your body, take his time to taste it, to enjoy it to the fullest...no matter if it made his dick throb and swell with more and more arousal. No matter if he would end up practically whimpering while getting his face stuck in your pussy later.

Miguel nuzzled his face further onto your breasts. His face was smothered between your breasts, his lips occasionally licking and sucking on their plump flesh. Low growls would escape his lips every time his lips circled around one of your perky nipples, sucking in deeply, swirling his tongue around the rigid nub and the puffy areola. His hands were holding your waist where the hem of your pants slopped down, exposing your waist.

“Eres tan deliciosa...can’t wait to get more of you...”

His nose trails down the line of your abdomen, running over smooth skin while his thumbs rub in circle the skin over your sides. He tugged at the hem of your shorts with his teeth, silently pleading to get more of you.

“May I?” You groaned a small “yes” and he finally pulled down your shorts. When he nuzzled his nose onto your panties, pressing it right where your slit would be, your hips bucked. He giggled at your eager response.

“Sorry about that.”, you quickly apologized but he dismissed the said apology with a caress of his hand on your thigh, soothing your worry.

“There’s no need to worry.” He then pressed a soft kiss under your belly button and hummed, his breath warm on your skin: “You’re such a needy little thing sometimes.”

“I’m not needy.”, you replied with a growing blush.

“Mhh...who’s been keeping a calendar of half-naked men in her kitchen again?” His brow cocked in a teasing manner as he trailed a line of warm kisses all the day down to your entrance. Your breath hitched and you arched your back in response to his teasing:

“Are you going to remind me of this for a long time?”

“Yes.”

His hooked finger pushed your panties aside and he basked in the musky scent of your arousal, watching how your pubes glistened with arousal.

“Someone feeling jealous over there?”, you teased him which only earned you a chuckle.

“I have no reason to be jealous…”, his hands slipped under your butt and he lifted up a bit your body until your legs were wrapped around his neck, “...and I’m going to show you why.”

His lips dived into your parted legs, his mouth molding to the shape of your vulva as he suckled in deeply. Your essence spurted into his mouth, making you writhe slightly. His nose rubbed onto your clit while he swirled his tongue deeper between your slick folds. His cock was aching down his sweatpants, burning to be free and soon replacing his tongue.

As he kept lapping and sucking on your cunt, he slowly edged you until you couldn’t hold it anymore. The sound of you moaning and cooing his name was the sweetest reward he could get for his hard work; until you came undone. He could feel how close he was too to just climax, here and there on the spot. The sight of you, spread on the counter with your clothes ruffled and your puffy clit, throbbing and begging for more.

“Feeling good, mama?”, he softly asked while placing a soft peck on your thigh.

“Bedroom now.” Your enthusiasm made him giggle again and he kept placing soft pecks all over your face and shoulders while carrying you to the bedroom. Your eager hands slipped under the hem of his sweatpants and tried to grab a hold of his butt. As much as you liked this calendar, it was a shame it didn’t pay proper homage to the glorious work of art this man’s buttocks were.

Miguel finally let you go down the bed and slipped out of his sweatpants. He was rummaging through the nightstand, looking for the pack of condoms you always kept there.

You watched in awe as he tore open a condom and swiftly lowered his boxers. His cock sprung free, the tip almost slapping his lower belly as some precum already dripped from the swollen tip. His fingers quickly put on the condom and when he caught your gaze on him, he stopped, a sheepish smile on his lips: “Everything alright?”

“That was just the sexiest thing I’ve ever see you doing.” A sympathetic look took over his features as he crawled on top of you, peppering your face with soft kisses. It was probably the first time you’ve had a boyfriend who didn’t reluctantly put on a condom and who accepted that you just couldn’t put an IUD or take the pill. This was as refreshing as it was sexy and the delicate attention always made you feel grateful, no matter how much Miguel would tell you that it was nothing.

“How do you want to do this?”, he asked with his lips still pressed on your temple.

“I want to see you.” Your response seemed to please him a lot because he quickly obliged and soon you found yourself attached to one another, with his arms pinning you onto the bed while he kept moving back and forth between your warm walls. Every move he made was followed by a deep, throaty grunt on his side.

“Feeling good, sweetheart?”

You could only moan back at his question, wrapping yourself tightly around him as he was thrusting deeper into you. The heat between your two bodies was becoming unbearable as time went on and it only became stronger when he slipped his hand down your stomach and began toying with your clit.

“Gonna cum for me, okay sweetie? I want to make you feel so good…” The slight desperation in his tone didn’t go unnoticed on your side. He wanted nothing more but for you to remember this moment every time you would look at his picture. He wanted you to be as whipped for him as he was for you, completely and utterly transfixed.

“Miguel…” He knew what it meant when you cried out his name like that. It meant you were close and he made his mission to guide you through it with his fingers rubbing circles faster on your already sensitive and swollen clit.

“That’s it baby...just like that…”

Your body tensed and your grip on him tightened as he felt you reaching your climax. His praise didn’t stop soon and he kept placing soft pecks all over your face, especially around your furrowed brows, one thing he found adorable in these moments.

It took the two of your some time to calm down after this moment. Miguel had brought you back a towel from the bathroom to clean yourself and two glasses of water. It was a bit hot since it was the middle of the summer and he knew too well the risks of dehydration. However this didn’t stop him from cuddling with you, his arms tightly wrapped around your body, one hand tracing the curve of your hips, following the slope of it like a traveler climbing up a mountain. His eyes marveled at your body in silence, looking at the way the sweat had coated your skin. When he kissed the sensitive spot of skin behind your ear and playfully nuzzled his face into it, you squirmed a bit. But it was not enough to escape his grip and you just managed to rub yourself even more against him:

“Miguel...it’s already too hot. And I’m gross like that.”

Your words could have as well be heard by a deaf because he didn’t stop his kissing. In fact he even nuzzles his face lower on your body, his nose following the curve of your clavicle while he mumbled:

“You’re not gross. You’re perfect like that…”

You were glad he didn’t catch the blush that was blooming on your cheeks: “It’s still too hot for that…” But your protest wasn’t very convincing and none of you moved a single inch. It would soon be too hot to go out or even do anything at this point and your body succumbed to the promise of a lazy, indolent afternoon, resting in the arms of your lover.

================================================

Notes: Thanks for reading this story! I hope you liked it. it's been a while since I've written smutty one-shot so I needed some time to get back on track. Hope it doesn't feel too awkward.

🌻🌻🌻

My masterlist

#atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #fanfic #miguel x reader #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel 2099 #miguel smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara au

323 notes · View notes

salemssimblr · 3 days ago

Text

My Top 24 Screenshots Renders of 2024!

I was tagged by the so many lovely mutuals and creators! Thank you @elderwisp, @savagemagician3, @sikoi, @blvckentropy, @mosneakers, & @azeterna! I love yall so much!

I'm so sorry, despite my very best efforts I couldn't choose just 24, so have 30 instead 😅

Looking at all these together, I'm worried I may have plateau'd just a bit 😅 No but in reality, it's really cool to see that I've refined my style and methods over the year, starting in January and continuing it all through 2024. Seeing progress and improvement is one of my favorite things about this process, so doing these recaps is always enjoyable.

January:

Looking back, I'm still so proud of the first dancing set of renders for Ariss & Vasily, and who could forget the first Alice sighting?? I can't, look at her.

February:

February was a bit of a slow month for me but I still love how this A+tM album cover came out!

March:

March was a bit slower, but I love this set of Ariss (:

April:

April was a goood month, I'm still so in love with all three of these.

May:

MerMay was lacking for me a bit this year, but I really love how my contribution turned out (: & this spicy render of Ariss & Vasily is one of my favorites, if for no other reason than his little fang peek.

June:

June was all about Alice + the Madness! & like LEGIT? I still can't believe I made this Rolling Stone cover? I have a secret, I've tried to make another one for Alice, but nothing has or probably will ever look as good as this one so I've given up lmfaoooo

& this render of Erisande was such a labor of love. I sat down and said it'd be really quick and then spent hours editing meshes and adjusting the lighting... but then, that always happens with me and "quick" renders 😅

July:

Bit of a slow month, but I'm still so floored (& happy!) about the love Millie has gotten! This isn't even a completed render and it's one of my most well-received posts to date haha, but I can't blame anyone, look how cute she is.

August:

Ramping up into spooky season we have two of my favorite renders of all time, my "bog demon" and mothwoman! As obsessed as I am with Ariss and Vasily, it's really nice to do creative one-off renders and these were both SO FUN to do. I hope to do more in the new year too (:

September:

This iconic portrait of Ariss will always be one of my favorites (& is actually my computer's wallpaper rn, but a version updated with her 'new' tattoos), & this render of Kai could definitely be improved on (maybe in the new year...) but it was a really fun challenge! I do see flaws in it now but that's growing and learning!

October:

October was (not surprisingly) a very busy month for me! The idea for the render of Theo & Millie had been rolling around in my head since I first created them, & while the end result wasn't exactly what I was envisioning, I still really love how it turned out.

& though this set of renders for Ariss & Vasily took me FOR-FUCKING-EVER, and I see a lot of flaws even now (after trying my damnedest to have NONE), I still really love it. The end result/edit/colorway was NOT what I planned but I really fell in love with it.

November:

November, the month of ambitious scene-building, pose-making, and upping my skin shader game in a BIG way. I spent literal hours perfecting Ariss' new tattoo, and literal days building the scene for that gorgeous render of Kai.

& I'm so glad yall love that pose set! It was definitely a learning experience and a labor of love.

December:

Looking at this overview, December has been dark and spicy lmfao but I actually love it. Once again, all of these took wayyyy longer than I thought they would when I sat down to start them, but I'm genuinely in love with all three!

& that's a wrap (so far) on 2024! I'm having surgery tomorrow so not sure I'll be able to create/post anything else this year, but I have big plans for 2025! So stay tuned (:

I'm tagginggggggg @kuroashims, @a-m-pyra. @acidheaddd, @gothoffspring, @pralinesims, @thebramblewood, @moonfromearth, @nepotisim, & YOU, I want to see all your creations!

(There were a LOT more creators I wanted to tag but I saw yall have already done this!)

#ts4 #sims 4 #sims #ts4 render #ts4 edit #sims 4 render #sims 4 edit #sims render #sims edit #tag game #top 24 #top 24 of 2024 #top 2024

73 notes · View notes

punksyeet · 2 months ago

Text

ᰔᩚ Anniversary ᰔᩚ

Plot: A little glimpse into how Gianna (OC) and Josh spend their two year anniversary.

Warning: Hefty flirting and mature language!

** Josh’s POV **

My eyes blink open as the bright sunshine peeks through our bedroom window.

I automatically reach for my phone and look at the time and date.

It's 11:17am on August 18th.

Today's the day. Two whole years with my babygirl.

I place my phone down on the nightstand beside me and turn back around to see my beautiful lady peacefully sleeping.

As she snores her perfectly light snores, I smile and brush a curl out of her face.

My gorgeous girl. How did I get so lucky? And how has it only been 2 years? It feels like it's been forever.

I press a gentle kiss to her temple.

She gently stirs in her sleep, and curls her perfect lips into a beautiful smile.

I smile back. "Good morning. Happy two years babygirl."

"Happy two years honey," she replies, half whisper-half voice, with her eyes still closed.

I cup her face with one hand, stroking her soft cheek with my thumb.

Her lids slowly but surely flutter open, revealing her gorgeous coffee-brown eyes.

I get lost in them every time. She's just so stunning.

She smiles even wider once she sees me and reaches over to play with my messy bed-headed mullet. "You look handsome this morning."

I chuckle and lean in, pressing my lips to hers.

She automatically kisses back, wrapping her arm around my neck and pulling me in deeper.

After a few strokes, our lips separate, and I trail kisses onto her cheek and down her neck.

"So," I begin, pulling away. "I have tonight on lock. What would you like to do today?"

She smirks and puckers her lips. "Well..."

I raise an eyebrow. "I know that look. What do you have up your sleeve ma'am?"

She giggles, reaching for her phone on the nightstand. "Well, since it's our anniversary, I figured I shouldn't be the only one that enjoys it."

I sigh. "Baby you know I enjoy every moment we're together."

"I know," she says, smiling and proceeds to kiss my cheek. "But I wanted to plan something special too."

She taps her screen a few times before flipping her screen towards me.

I lean in and read the words the small print.

Tickets to the 49ers pre-season game today?

Am I dreaming?

My jaw drops. "Babe. You didn't."

She giggles. "But I did!"

I sit there in shock for a bit longer before pulling her into the tightest hug.

She bursts into laughter and hugs me back.

"I love you. So much." I mumble and kiss her cheek over and over and over again.

"I love you too baby," she replies between giggles.

We hug for a bit longer before she pulls away and kisses the corner of my mouth.

"The game is at 1:15, babe. We should probably get ready soon."

I smile and nod before gently grabbing either side of her face and pressing my lips to hers.

We share a few pecks before getting out of bed.

** Gianna's POV **

Josh and I just finished up our shower and are now getting ready for the day.

We recently bought 49ers bomber jackets so I throw mine on along with a black cropped tube top, light denim jeans, my Nike Chicagos, a red headband, jewelry, and a black bag.

Josh picks out his jacket alongside a white 49ers hoodie, black sweats, his red and white Jordan 11s, my favorite silver chain, earrings, and a black beanie.

"You ready to go baby?" Josh calls from downstairs.

"Almost!" I reply, adjusting my hair to my liking.

"Alright! I'll go start the car!" he calls back and I hear the front door close.

I spray some of his favorite perfume, check that I have everything in my purse, and head out.

—————————————————————————————————

The game just ended.

Josh joins nearly the entire stadium filled with fans in jumping up and cheering at the final score: 16-10.

I can confidently say that I had zero idea what was happening the entire time, but the goal was to make my man happy. And boy was he ever!

"Thank you again mama," he coos pulling me into a hug. "I love you."

I smile and kiss his cheek before resting my chin on his shoulder. "You're so welcome lovebug. I love you more."

Hand in hand, we exit the stadium, occasionally getting stopped by fans to take pictures.

The car ride home is filled with conversations about the game, laughs, kisses, and jam sessions.

—————————————————————————————————

Josh made a 7:00 reservation at our favorite Italian restaurant, so we're headed home to freshen up and change into fancier attire.

I pick out one of Josh's favorite dresses on me: a long white one that hugs my body in all the right places, clear heels, and jewelry.

"You ready yet ma?" Josh calls from the bedroom.

"Almost!" I call back, doing some finishing touches on my hair and makeup in the bathroom mirror.

He suddenly appears in the doorway and licks his lips, scanning my body up and down. "Lord, I gotta personally thank your parents one day."

I playfully roll my eyes and giggle as he comes up from behind me and slides his hands up and down my sides.

"You look a lil too fine right now baby," he mumbles in my ear, causing me to get goosebumps and he feathers light kisses on my neck. "And you smell good too."

I smile, biting my lower lip gently. "Why thank you."

"And this ass in this dress," he continues, caressing my ass, and gently squeezing it.

I turn before he can do any further damage, and wrap my arms around his neck. "Baby we're gonna be late."

He sighs and sticks out his bottom lip.

I smile and kiss it. "Don't worry baby. You'll get what you're looking for later."

I kiss his cheek and prance away.

He smirks and slaps my ass then follows me downstairs.

————————————————————————————————-

We just got to the restaurant.

"Table for 2? The reservation is under Joshua." Josh tells the hostess.

She nods and taps her iPad a few times before looking up. "Alrighty! You folks can follow....wait! You guys are Jey Uso and Gianna Nicole!"

I smile warmly. "Yes we are. It's nice to meet you!"

Josh looks down at me smiling and wraps an arm around my waist before looking back at her.

"My sister and I are huge fans! Do you mind signing something....anything for me?" she asks, still fangirling.

He chuckles. "Not at all, love. You got a napkin or something?"

"Uhhh..." she scrambles around the hostess stand and finds a notepad. "Here we go!"

She pushes it towards us and we both sign a piece of paper.

"Thank you guys so much! I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting! Follow me!"

I giggle. "It's no problem at all, girl."

Josh keeps his arm around my waist as we follow her to our table.

"Thanks so much again! I really appreciate this!" she coos, as we sit down.

"Anytime love," I reply and we share a warm hug.

She walks over to Josh and they hug as well.

Soon enough, she's off and back to the front, leaving us alone.

The table is so romantically set up: a bouquet of roses alongside some single stems, a bucket of our favorite wine and two glasses, as well as a gorgeous view of the city.

"Baby this is beautiful," I coo, as he takes my hand from across the table. "Thank you."

He smiles and kisses my knuckles. "Not nearly as beautiful as you. But it'll do."

I blush slightly as our waiter comes over.

I order fettuccine carbonara and Josh orders lobster ravioli.

Once the food arrives, Josh holds up his wine glass and makes a toast. "Cheers to you my love. Happy anniversary."

I smile and hold mine up as well. "Cheers to us, honey. Happy two years."

We clink our glasses together and take a sip before digging into our food.

—————————————————————————————————

We just pulled back up to the house.

I groan and melt into the passenger seat.

Josh looks over with a raised eyebrow. "You good ma?"

I nod. "Everything tasted amazing, but I think I'm in a food coma."

He chuckles and rubs my stomach. "Why don't we get you inside, huh?"

I nod and he gets out, comes around, and takes my hand, helping me out of the car.

I grab the flowers from the back seat.

He kisses my cheek and we walk to the front door.

Josh unlocks the door and as soon as it flies open, so do my eyes.

There's roses and candles everywhere, making a pathway up to our bedroom, and soft music playing lowly.

"B-babe?" I stutter, in complete shock.

He chuckles, takes the roses from my hand, puts them on the tiny table next to the door, closes and locks it, and takes my hand.

"Come with me beautiful," he coos and leads us upstairs.

Still in shock, I follow as we make our way to the bedroom, where there's even more flowers and red heart balloons hanging from the ceiling.

"Baby I..." my voice trails off as he wraps his hands around my waist.

"Shhh," he whispers and kisses my neck.

I lightly moan, holding the back of his neck and tilting my head to give him more access.

Soon enough, he lightly pushes me onto the bed and....let's just say anniversary sex hits different!

I wrap my leg around his, my left hand rubbing his back, and right hand and head pressed to his chest.

His right hand is around my waist, stroking my sides and ass.

"How did you even do this?" I ask breathlessly. "We were home only a couple hours ago."

He chuckles and kisses my temple. "Let's just say we have some very kind siblings."

I giggle softly. "I should've known. This has Trin written all over it."

He nods smiling. "I'm just shocked they didn't put everything to good use before we did."

"Joshua!" My jaw flies open and I playfully whack his shoulder.

He bursts into laughter and cuddles me even tighter.

I grab my phone from the nightstand and text Trin.

Sista 🥰🫶🏽: Thank you guys 🥹🫶🏽

Trin 💋: You're so welcome babygirl 🫶🏽 Now go get someeeee!

Me: You already know I wasted no time 😩

Trin 💋: OOOOOP IKTR 🙂‍↕️☝🏽

I audibly laugh and set my phone back onto the table.

Josh looks down at me and smiles. "Whatchu laughin at?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I respond, flicking my hair off my shoulder.

He smirks and gently squeezes my cheeks, pulls my face up, and shoves his tongue into my mouth.

Soon enough, we're sharing our 4th makeout session of the night.

And you can't blame me.

Those plump lips and thick ass tongue.

Whew!

—————————————————————————————————

We just finished up our bath, which of course, had more rose petals and candles.

Josh wraps me into a soft and fuzzy robe, smiling down at me. "You're adorable."

I look down and automatically blush.

He takes my chin and gently lifts it, pressing his plump and warm lips to mine.

I kiss back and take his hand, leading him back into the bedroom.

"Where we goin ma?" he asks, following close behind.

"I have another surprise for you," I reply, walking us towards the bed. "Sit."

He chuckles and sits down on the bed, as I head over to our closet and pull out a gift bag.

He takes it and looks up at me. "Baby you didn't have to. The game was more than enough."

I place my finger to his lips. "Shhh. Open it."

He shakes his head smiling and digs into the bag, before pulling out a box.

He raises his eyebrow out of curiosity and opens it, revealing a gold Cuban link chain.

His jaw practically falls to the floor as he looks back up at me.

"It's to match your silver one!" I explain happily, wrapping my arm around his shoulder. "Do you like it?"

"Baby," he begins. "I love it. But this....this is....a lot."

I smile, slightly shrugging. "Sure. But you're worth every penny, Josh. You treat me like a princess and I wanted to show you that I'm forever grateful."

He sets the gift bag down and takes my hands. "You didn't need to spend over a thousand dollars to prove your love to me, babygirl. I appreciate it. I really do. But..."

I cut him off. "Joshua, shush. After all that you did for me today, let alone for the past 2 years we've been together, I can spend a fuck ton of money on you if I want. Now take the damn chain."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Gianna Macri, I can't with you."

I fold my arms, still pretending to be mad, although it's taking everything in me not to laugh with him.

He wraps his arms around my waist and plants kisses on my stomach. "I love you pretty mama."

Pretty mama.

The one nickname that, he knows damn well, will make me break in any and every situation.

I finally give in, playfully roll my eyes and smile. "I love you too."

He puckers his lips and I giggle, leaning down, cupping his face, and pressing my lips against his.

He pulls me down and attacks my face with kisses.

I burst into laughter and squirm around on the bed.

I love this man so much.

Liked by uceyjucey, trinity_fatu, jonathanfatu, wwe, and 2M others

giannamacri the past 730 days have been an absolute dream. from the second i laid eyes on you, i knew i found the love of my life and the person i'd want to experience everything with. joshua fatu, i thank you. thank you for treating me like a princess, for loving me for who i am, and for allowing me to love you. every day without i fail, i feel like the luckiest girl in the world. they say nobody is perfect but baby, you come close. i love you endlessly. two years down, forever to go. 🤍

View all 19.8k comments

uceyjucey I love you ma ❤️

trinity_fatu Love you both so much 🥹🥰🫶🏽

wwe Happy anniversary! ❤️

Liked by giannamacri, jonathanfatu, zillafatu, rikishi, and 1.2M others

uceyjucey Happy anniversary to my everything, my lady, my queen, my babygirl, my rock, and the love of my life. Getting to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep with you in my arms every night has been the biggest honor. I'll always admire your work ethic, your kind heart, and your selflessness. I have zero idea what I did to deserve you but one thing is for sure: I'm the luckiest man in the world. I love you mama. Forever us. 🤞🏽❤️

View all 12.7k comments

giannamacri forever baby 🥹🫶🏽

jonathanfatu ❤️

rikishi Love you both 🩸❤️

Tag List: @uceyliyahh ♡

^^ If you'd like to be added, feel free to leave a comment below! <3

Check out my wattpad and twitter! 💟

Follows, feedback, and reblogs appreciated! 🧚‍♀️

#fanfic #fanfiction #wwe #wrestling #wwe imagine #wrestler #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #wwe imagines #jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso fluff #jey uso gif #jey uso imagine #yeet #the bloodline #the usos

80 notes · View notes

em-harlsnow · 4 months ago

Text

the ages of shameless characters does nothing but drive me crazy, so I'm activating some detective skills to figure them out throughout the seasons. also - im ignoring the years or times that the seasons came out, just going by what the show says.

First off: Mickey - bday is 10 August 1994

Season 1: 16, because...

he's not in it much, he doesn't speak much, but we know two things - he's a teenager and he's under 18 since he goes to juvie. He's in juvie for some part of three seasons, so I think it's safe to put him at 16.

Season 2: 16 for a bit, then 17, because....

it's now summer, and Mickey comes out of juvie. I think he turns 17 that summer, because when he goes back in, people are wearing coats more so I assume it's getting colder, so it's past august.

Season 3: 17 for half, 18 for the other half, because...

it's summer at the start, so Mickey's been in juvie for like 6/7 months. he's still 17, because he didn't go to prison at any point. by the time he marries Svetlana, I think he's 18. I don't know how old you have to be to get married in Illinois, but I'll say 18 because American laws confuse me more than anything else. either way, again, people are wearing warmer clothes around the time he marries her, so he must be 18.

Season 4: 18, because...

it's winter, the whole way through. There's no way it's the next year, since Ian is still underage according to Mickey (altho there's a possibility he meant under the drinking age of 21, but I don't think so). So Ian's been gone for a few months, maybe like 5 since it could be Jan/Feb and he must have left Autumn time. Therefore, Mickey's 18. The whole time. Summer hasn't come, so his birthday hasn't passed.

Season 5: 19, because....

it's summer for the first part. Late summer, since the last half is in wintery time based on everyone's coats. We can assume that Mickey has his birthday either between season 4 and 5 or right at the beginning of season 5. So maybe he's 18 for like 5 seconds. But for the majority and the end, he must be 19.

Season 6: 19/20, because...

he's only in it for one scene (diabolical). I can't tell what the season is really, because there aren't many coats being worn at the start, and then loads at the end. It seems unreasonable that a whole spring and summer have been skipped, doesn't it? although, maybe it's possible. There are also some days when it seems really hot and some where it looks cold, so I have no idea. I don't know what the weather's like in Chicago, sorry. So he's either 19 or 20 when we see him. Most likely 20. Either way, he went into prison when he was 19, unless the trial was really long and lasted from winter to august, which I doubt.

Season 7: 21 (when he appears), because...

we have two episodes (again, very sad). it starts in the summer based on the t-shirts without jackets everyone wears. by the time ep 10 and 11 hit, it's colder. it's hard to tell at the end, since they're at the border or approaching the border and the further south you go the hotter it gets, and it's very sunny when mickey goes across. If season 6 really is that winter and they skipped the summer (which now makes more sense), it's the following summer, going into autumn. so, august has probably passed by the time we see mickey. so he's 21 now.

Season 8: 21, 22 by the end (even tho we don't see him), because...

no mickey (rude). we can still assume his age based on the seasons and other characters. it's summer again! I'm guessing it's the year after?? since it looked like season 7 was approaching autumn? that also means Ian and Trevor were dating for around a year, and I didn't realise it was so long to be honest. anyway, if it's summer again, at some point throughout mickey turns 22 (alone, in Mexico).

Season 9: 23, because...

one scene with mickey! it's still summer, the same summer as before I think, because there's no way the Gay Jesus thing lasted a full year. it looks like it's a direct continuation from season 8. by the last ep, Ian is wearing a hat and an undershirt under the prison uniform, so it's autumn-y time. so, mickey's either already 23 when we see him, or about to turn 23. by the end, he's definitely 23.

Season 10: 23 at the start, 24 by the end, because...

it's summer when Ian comes out of prison. I'd put it at early summer, since Ian says it's been less than a year of being in prison. so at the start, mickey's still 23. by the wedding, it's 'supposed to snow', so I guess it's full on winter. so august is passed, mickey is 24, and finally had his bday when he's with Ian.

Season 11: 24 at the start, 25 at the end, because...

summer again at the start based on all the t-shirts. early summer, because by ep 10, mickey goes swimming or does something in the pool, because I'm not convinced he can swim, which you aren't gonna do in the autumn/winter, right? by the last ep, there are more coats, and it's their anniversary so it's 'supposed to snow', so it must be winter time. so he's 24 at the start, 25 at the end.

In conclusion, Mickey is way younger than he seems (im not talking about Noel, he looks the age he's meant to be, he just seems older). Also, Gallavich has been together for 9 years.

Let me know if you disagree with any of this, I think I'll do Ian next! I don't know if this was obvious to everyone else and I'm just slow, but this is gonna help me loads when I'm figuring out weather seasons and ages for fics lol.

Shameless needs to deal with its shitty timelines. It was much better at consistency in the earlier seasons.

#shameless #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #shameless opinions

133 notes · View notes

potatogratins · 4 months ago

Text

— first winter, then spring

꒰ summary ꒱ against the cold winter air, yuki ishikawa accidentally pulls a woman with him while running away from his fans. after an awkward interaction, they learn that they live in the same apartment complex. an unexpected relationship forms from hallway glances and cinema sessions.

꒰ genre ꒱ fluff ꒰ pairing ꒱ | ishikawa yuki/nameless female-identifying oc ꒰ w.c. ꒱ 7,924 ꒰ published ꒱ august 16, 2024

Conversations have always passed by me more than I probably realized. My eyes averted from the eyes of others, running away into the endless landscapes of vanilla-colored, semi-gloss-painted walls. There was something about the eyes that felt more vulgar than the parts we normally hid because, in retrospect, they are the most truthful parts of our body, more than our lips and hands. So when an outrageously tall and obviously strong Japanese man was looking straight at me in the eyes, there was something in me that knew that he knew who I was, even if I had nothing worth confessing about.

“I wanted to… thank you,” he said carefully.

Everything about this man was so meticulous.

“It’s no problem. You look like you needed helping,” I replied quickly.

He was, however, not so meticulous with his tracks.

Just about twenty minutes ago, I began one of the most gut-wrenching runs in my life. This man, running from a small alleyway, tried to dash away from a swarm of what I would assume to be his loyal admirers. I happened to be in his way; instead of running right past me, he pulled me by the arm. It seemed that his running had preceded his thinking—it took him a minute or so to realize that he was dragging a woman along with him. The dry, cold winter air felt like a slap to the face every second I had to run with this man because now I had to help him–the both of us–get away from the crowd.

Twenty minutes later, we’re in a hidden restaurant. There were no more screaming fans. All that there was were empty dining sets, niche Italian memorabilia, and bored employees. A confused set of customers would not stop them from moving on with their dull lives. The only thing missing was the plates of pasta, which this man insisted on paying on his behalf, that I wished would arrive faster to break any possible point of contact.

No, I don’t dislike him. In fact, he is a fascinating person—as all human beings are. But I would rather know about them from afar and not when they are trying to lock their eyes with yours every second you have to be with them. I’m more nervous about the idea of first meetings: the utter and complete awkwardness that renders a first meeting to stay a first meeting. I’m scared of saying anything that might make him run away—therefore, making me pay for the pasta.

An employee walked towards our table and as she was about to place the dishes on the table, my eyes looked at the food to his eyes.

Soft, but strong. Determined, but capable of surrendering. Cheerful behind such nonchalance. Flames that have never been extinguished. Nevermind the color of his eyes. At that moment, I knew who he was.

“We should eat,” he told me. I smiled. Yes, we should.

The near-ivory-colored pieces of pasta were fully consumed. There was happiness in my stomach. But I couldn’t uphold the proverb of “beggars can’t be choosers” because I was begging myself to stop eating these stupid cherry tomatoes. For me, tomatoes always tasted good processed, but disgusting in their raw form. It always perplexed me, but I guess that’s the magic of cooking.

“You don’t like the tomatoes?” he asked me.

“No, I don’t. I’m sorry,” I smiled bashfully.

He laughed, “Don’t be. I used to not like it a lot.”

“At least we have something in common.”

A few laughs. Then there was that excruciating silence. This began to feel more like a first date. We both took another set of deep breaths. We would be a fascinating pair to a set of psychologists.

“Why were they chasing after you?” I asked him. He tilted his head.

“Your fans, why were they?” I clarified.

He waved his hands and shook his head. “I… I don’t know.”

“You must be very popular for a reason.”

“I still don’t know why I’m very popular.”

“Well, you are quite handsome.”

He looked up at me quickly. Then he laughed loudly. I felt my cheeks grow as red as those cherry tomatoes.

“I’m just saying that you’re attractive. Nothing more, nothing less,” I explained as I put my hands up. He should know I’m not attracted to him, right? Fuck, he should know.

“I mean I play volleyball. I don’t think my uh… face… you know…”

It was clear to me that he underestimated the power of aestheticism. He didn’t realize how beautiful he was. Many men I have both understood and not simultaneously, but I know that not understanding how attractive you are was a good trait. Was it a case of humility? No, it was a matter of naivety for this man.

“I think it’s best to not know why you’re popular.”

“Why?” He raised his eyebrow.

“It makes you a better character. Just–don’t ask.”

He nodded slowly as he downed another piece of pasta. I turned away from him and checked the time: 9:37 PM. I felt my heart drop, then beat faster. My hands began to sweat, and my eyes and mouth widened, taking in the Italian restaurant dust.

He must have checked the time too because he had a more violent reaction to the time. He sighed, before looking at me and offered to take me home. I assumed he had a car in the parking lot waiting for him. Do you know what else is waiting for him?

“You don’t think your fans will be waiting by the parking lot?” I sighed, “It’s alright. I can book a taxi.”

I showed him my phone and pointed to the apartment complex on the map. He nodded slowly.

“Ahh, well I live there too,” he told me.

I felt my muscles pull my eyebrows. It was damn near impossible that we lived in the same place. That building wasn’t even tall. How could I not have bumped into him? That’s impossible. I’ve gone in and out of that complex many times for a variety of reasons. I should have all my hours covered: I left at two in the morning once to prepare for a road trip. Another at six in the morning to get ready to be a corporate slave. Seven in the morning when I was still taking up classes. All the hours leading up to twelve when I would oversleep and leave despite missing the acceptable hours to be late. Afternoon to return to my house. Night to buy food and do other shenanigans. How could I have possibly missed this man?

“Really? How come we’ve never bumped into each other?” I asked him.

“I moved a few months ago.”

There were then two of the greatest mysteries that arose: how have I never met this man and why did it take a Hollywood-like meet cute for us to meet? I would not try to attempt to solve them. I’ll leave it to the experts to tackle these critical questions.

The waitress walked up to us and told them that they were closing. It was right that we had to leave. Imagine having the most perfect day with no customers, then a pair arrives at the very last minute you could have chosen to close the restaurant. I would have comforted her and told her that I was just as ready to go home as she was.

We had to walk out of the tiny street and into a bigger road in order to find the taxi driver that the man had booked through his phone. For a few minutes, we stood there like idiots, but I was taking in the serenity of this silence. This was the quietest moment of my day.

When the taxi arrived, we sat in silence, sitting, again, like idiots. I turned my head to the window, watching the stores close as people walked by. What I always enjoyed about quiet rides was that you were able to observe people from afar and imagine the scenario they were going through before moving to the person behind them. You could think of the lives they were living until you were forced to push the thought away because you knew you would never see them again. We left the thought as it was.

I understood that it would not be the case with this man.

Though the trip was short, I began to feel groggy. We got into the tiny elevator, which could barely handle his height. I was curious to see the floor number he would press, but the thought was so shameful to me that I looked at the floor counter instead, seeing it go higher. When the elevator reached my floor, I turned to him, nodded, and left the elevator… a farewell that was guaranteed to be useless because he followed right behind me.

The man and I walked in the same direction for a few seconds before I turned to my door. I felt him tap my right shoulder.

“I cannot believe we never met,” he exclaimed.

“Our first meeting was certainly unique. Makes for a start of a good friendship, don’t you think?”

He smiled and held his hand out.

“Before I forget, my name is Yuki, by the way.”

The night proved to me that we were just both little idiots making their way into the world for the both of us could only nod and smile at each other. I shook his hand and told him my name.

“I hope you have a good sleep,” he said, and before I could say anything, he walked away. The window to chase after him began to close. When he got to his door, I looked away and went inside the apartment.

The following week, I began to look out the hallways to see if Yuki had come around. I was curious to know what happened to him since that night. What happened to his fans? Did he eventually get his car back? Did his teammates bring his stuff home for him on that day? However, I began to accept that this was just one of those moments where you meet someone once and never see them again.

“Hoy! Over here!”

My aunt called me from the other side of where I was trying to look for Yuki. She popped up with a son of one of our family friends, Charles, a mischievous tot at the age of five. He ran towards my legs. I picked him up and carried him while walking all the way to her.

“Charles wanted to pass by the playground, but I figured we could stop by to see how you were doing first.”

“Oh. Am I part of the play date?” I asked her.

“You wanna come with us? I don’t mind if you do. Charles has been asking you for the past week, you know.”

“Looks like I’ll have to make up for the time lost then,” I looked at Charles and rubbed his nose. The three of us went to the elevator, and although elevator trips are short, there’s something about these that felt so excruciating. I thought to myself, “What if Yuki’s on the other side of the door? What should be my first greeting?” No, no, I’m not in love with him. People mistake general loneliness for romantic desperation. It’s just exciting to know someone who lives on the same floor as you.

The elevator doors opened, and there was not even a human waiting on the other side.

How disappointing.

We walked our way to the playground, which was a lengthy walk for a tiny boy but much lengthier for the one carrying him. My aunt and I talked on the way, and before we even stepped foot on the edge of the playground, Charles signaled me to let him down. He ran straight to the swings. We looked at each other and sighed before sitting by one of the benches. We continued the conversation.

So, it was inevitable that I talked about Yuki.

“You don’t think he’s in love with you?”

“We’re just friends. We’re just acquaintances, neighbors who happen to be friendly with each other.”

“The way that you’re describing him just makes it sound like he’s in love with you…” she tapped her index finger on her chin before she said, “Or could it be possible that you described him that way because you’re the one who’s in love with him?”

The nerve!

“I’ve only talked to him for like an hour. I don’t know anything else about him, alright? He’s just… he seemed interesting to me,” and I hoped that explanation was enough for her.

“Alright, alright. I understand. It’s just different when it’s you.”

“Me? How?”

“Frankly, I've never seen you so invested in anyone”

I shook my head. She simply laughed, as she told me:

“I’m just excited to see some developments in your life. You wanted some action after all, right?”

Most of the action in my life came in the form of a projector screen of a cinema. Films illustrated my biggest fears and desires, as well as situations we would never dream of going through. It’s one of the greatest man-made creations, and I am grateful for living in a time like this.

I watched a rerun of When Harry Met Sally, thankfully in its original dub but with Italian subtitles. I don’t think I would agree with the dubious morality of the film’s screenwriter, but the way she wrote her characters and of romances made you want to be whisked away by a heterosexual man, charmed by the most dramatic lines a man wouldn’t imagine saying in reality. Many romance films were never great critically, but they always seem so satisfying—especially when the man was written by a woman.

It was coincidental that this film was out again in the local cinema when I was at the crossroads of trying to figure out just why I was thinking of Yuki so much, even if I don’t think of him in that way. In summary, the film tried to answer the age-old question: Can a man and woman be friends?

The question just hurt my head, so I set it aside—in other words, ignored it.

As I walked home from the cinema, all I thought about was when Harry told Sally, “…When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” I wanted something like that for myself. I kept repeating the ending scene, keeping my head down, until as I entered the elevator, bumped into the chest of a friend—er, acquaintance.

“Are you alright?” A familiar voice asked me, and when I looked up, Yuki was looking straight down at me. I realized the difference in height between the both of us. I could only nod slowly at him.

“Are you sure? You were staring at the floor.”

I nodded profusely, stepping to his right. I still kept my head low. Come the elevator ride, which, again, always took a thousand years. As we went up, I could feel his eyes poke my unattractive slouch. Wish I could die right now!

“Did you come from work?” He asked me, attempting to make small talk

The elevator doors opened.

“Ah, no. I came from the cinema.”

We both stepped out. Every second turned into an hour, and though it took less than a minute to get to our doors, we seemed to be walking at a snail’s pace.

“You like movies?” He asked me.

“I love them. I watch one every day.”

“Wow. Are you actually a famous actress?”

“No, no,” I laughed, “But I wanted to be a filmmaker once.”

“You should recommend me some movies. I’m sure you have good taste.”

I smiled, “Thank you. But tell me what kind of films you like first. It might be too boring or too cheesy for you.”

“I’m not really sure what I like. I mean I watch anime. But I want to know what your favorite movie is.”

I stopped. “Why?”

“Why not? You are a very interesting person.”

For a moment, I looked at him. His entire face, not his eyes. I’m not brave enough to look at them. I scratched my head and faced the floor again. He tilted his head, and I believed that for a minute, we turned into idiots again, waiting for each other to respond. He raised his voice to say something but changed his mind. I did the same thing. Eventually, I was the one who broke the silence that formed between us:

“I’ll slip in a list of my favorite films under your door.”

I mustered the courage to look at his face.

I don’t know if he was smiling through his teeth, but I knew that he was smiling with his eyes, and it made all the difference. I suddenly gained the motivation to write up a good list for him. I just hoped that he had the time to go through each and every one of them.

I didn’t know what men liked, especially with someone like him who didn’t seem too enthusiastic about cinema to me. You wouldn’t want something too violent, crude, dreamy, or fast-paced. Most definitely not too philosophical. It’s not that I wanted to impress him, I just felt like I didn’t want him to switch on the television and spend an hour and a half watching a film he wouldn’t even enjoy at all.

“I watched all of them, by the way,” Yuki told me when we bumped into each other again in the hallway. I guess it was the power of the first meeting: you just kept on meeting them again.

“All of them? But those were twenty films!” I felt my eyes widen. With a sports career like his, would you even have time for anything else?

“I watched all of them while stretching… or eating… or when I was bored,” he said as he walked towards me with a wide smile on his face.

“Did you enjoy any of them?”

“I liked all of them. Where do you watch them?”

Maybe I was too mean to his eyes. They were never meant to intimidate or to investigate other people but to comfort them. I now realized that he simply wanted to pay attention to me, which is perfect because I am, quite frankly, without attention. A few circuits in my brain exploded before I could give him a well-thought-out response.

“I watch them in the cinema just a few streets away. Or I watch them online.”

“There’s a cinema nearby?”

“Yes, it’s a fifteen-minute walk there. And it’s the perfect distance: fifteen minutes to the cinema to gather your expectations for the film you’re going to watch, and fifteen minutes from the cinema to ponder on what you just watched.”

“I never thought of walking that way. It’s an exercise for the body, but I never thought it could be an exercise for the mind.”

“Well, Yuki, when you hate the idea of walking but have to endure it just to see something that could make you feel happy, you’d have to think of other ways to make walking enjoyable.”

“But why would you waste fifteen minutes just to see if you could feel happy?”

“It’s more than just the trip that could have brought me unhappiness. It could be a burnt egg during breakfast or a boss’ scolding in the afternoon. If I felt angry, sad, or both for more than twelve hours but watched a film that was an hour and thirty minutes long and had an extra fifteen minutes to myself just thinking about that film and how good it was, then at least I could say that the day was lived through well.”

For a minute, Yuki froze and stared at me. He then looked away from my eyes and nodded slowly, as if he had just processed what I just said. He laughed–no, giggled–and scratched the back of his head. It must have been a nervous reaction. Or maybe I was trying to read him a little too much.

“What’s your job?” he suddenly asked me.

“My job?”

“I-If you don’t mind, you know, me asking?”

“Oh, way different from the movies, for sure. I just work at a tiny office building thirty minutes away. Nothing too important.”

“You don’t make movies?”

“It’s just not practical. I hate my job, but at least it pays my film tickets.”

We both awkwardly laughed. My damn humor.

“Uh–Can I watchsome of the movieswith you sometime?” He asked me with a pace much faster than how he usually spoke.

“Of course.”

“But not all the time, I’m busy with training and games… of course…”

“It’s no problem. Just… tell me if you want to come with me. I go to the cinema on the weekends. I always leave at around six.”

“Okay. I’ll see you… next time.”

“See you around, Yuki.”

We exchanged our friendliest of smiles before Yuki walked to the door of his unit. For some reason, I didn’t want time to stop. I let out a loud sigh. As I opened the door, I instinctively turned my head towards his direction.

He was looking at me.

“Goodnight,” I told him.

His smile was much weaker. Even if the only responsibility that was entrusted to his hands was to open the door of his unit, he seemed clumsy with it. Quite unusual for his character–even if all I really knew about him was based on limited interactions. He seemed to be in a trance; he shook his head and entered his home.

He didn’t greet me back.

Weeks had passed since we had a major interaction. There and then, we would greet each other a few times, but it wasn’t anything of importance for me to tell. Each and every greeting was filled with a pinch of half-crooked smiles and a teaspoon of inevitable awkwardness. In my case, I always seemed to enjoy our dishes of interactions but with a dash of overthinking. Did he hate me? I could never really tell with him, as the thoughts are always diminished every time he asks for my wellbeing.

“I hope the movie isn’t too long this time,” my aunt told me.

“I searched on the internet. It’s two hours and thirty minutes long,” I replied.

She sighed and told me, “Nothing I could do to stop you from your movie watching. Just text me if you’ll be home a little beyond 9:30. You know me.”

“Sorry for making you worry that one time.”

“It’s alright. I just don’t want your mom scolding me. You know how she is. Run along.”

I greeted her goodbye, as she turned her head to the television screen and watched a K-Drama that seemed to be all the craze these days. As much as I used to enjoy shows, I could never really commit to one, which is why I love films so much: it would only take one sitting for you to finish a story. As I waited for the elevator, a door opened, and a figure began to approach me. As I was about to turn to them, the elevator doors opened.

“Are you going to the cinema today?”

Ah, Yuki.

“Yes, I am,” I replied cheerfully. We both went on the elevator.

“What are you watching tonight?”

“Cinema Paradiso. It’s an old film–I think it’s older than me. It’s one of my favorite films, it was why I loved watching films in the first place.”

“You didn’t recommend that to me,” he pouted.

I was surprised by his memory. “It was a sappy film. I didn’t know if you’d like it. But it’s an Italian film, so you might be interested after all.”

“Then is it okay if we watch it together?”

When the elevators opened, I walked out first, and jumped up and down to his request as he walked out after me. I led the way to the cinema, which, of course, took fifteen minutes to get there. He was inquisitive, asking questions about other movies I watched and Italian cinema in particular–considering where we were and what we were going to watch after all.

“Do you still go to the cinema even if it rains? Orrrr if it’s too cold?”

“Yeah. But sometimes I get stuck at the cinema cause I’d forget to bring an umbrella.”

He looked at my hands.

“I hope we don’t get stuck tonight,” he said with a smile.

"I think we should be asking more important questions," I began to tease him.

"Like what?"

"Your fans."

He scoffed

"Oh, don't worry about them. It was just that one time. They don't know where I live anyway."

We eventually got to the cinema, which was, as usual, barely occupied. I never really knew if they were the same people visiting–you could never tell who was who in the dark, and I never bothered to search for familiar faces when the lights went up. We sat in the center because, to me, it was never too near nor too far.

The entire time, we sat in silence, with a few laughs in between. Being the emotional person that I was, I sniffled–the tears dried thanks to the handkerchief Yuki had brought. Most of the time, he was still, but I hoped that he was taking the entire film in. In the middle of the film, there were a set of scenes that embarked, full of longing and yearning, caused greatly by something that was difficult to attain for the film’s couple: love.

It was around this time I could feel Yuki squirm a little, whether it was because it made him uncomfortable or thinking of someone else, I could never really tell. In the corner of my eye, I could feel him turn to me, then to the screen, and to me again. When I finally decided to confront him, I picked up a piece of popcorn from the bucket and showed it to him, like a child putting out their favorite toy to everyone.

He thanked me. I had expected him to pick it from my fingers, but he ate it straight away instead. The pressure and touch of his lips were minimal but it was enough to at least make me identify that they were… soft. Besides the projector, one of the greatest benefits of the movie houses was that many of our facial expressions were concealed–something that I am grateful for hiding my red face. I placed the popcorn bucket between us and he graciously got some more, to which I hoped that he had forgotten what had just transpired minutes ago.

When the film ended, my eyes were puffy. Yuki, though I would say less generous with his emotions (or maybe he was uncomfortable with me?), had a few tears in his eyes. I pulled out the handkerchief he had just lent me and dabbed the corners of his eyes. It was a little difficult to reach out to him, not because of his height, but because I was trying to contemplate what was the socially acceptable distance between us. When his tears had finally dried, I stared into the credits.

“Let’s stay here for a while,” I told him, “I always watch the credits till the very end.”

When the credits were done, we left the cinema in silence. We stood side by side. Normally, if I were with a friend, I would have started babbling about the events of the film. Now, I found myself saying absolutely nothing. Not at all what I intended, because Yuki is also my friend, right?

“Now I understand why you go there every weekend. It was a nice movie. The atmosphere is quiet and the seats are good, even for someone as tall as me,” he turned to me and placed his palm on my head, as if to mock my height. I laughed at him and playfully slapped his arm.

“There’s something about that cinema that feels magical, don’t you think? That’s why I enjoy watching with a larger projector screen than a phone screen at times.”

“It’s much better when you watch it with someone.”

“It is! Sometimes when the film’s funny, it’s great to crack jokes with them.”

“You go with other people? Who else?”

“Oh, just my aunt. Or sometimes with a couple of friends.”

“No boyfriend?”

I paused. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have one.

“No, I don’t have one. I’m too cowardly to ask anyone out.”

The air grew harsher, and so did the snowfall. I placed my hands in my jacket, placing my arms as close to my torso as if to shake off the cold temperature. It’s only a temporary remedy. My teeth began to chatter—so much for coming from a place that has never snowed. Yuki watched me freeze to death, with his clothes looking much warmer than mine,

“May I?” Yuki placed his hand in front of me.

I didn’t know what he was referring to, but I could only say “Yes.”

We stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, facing each other. He took my hands, using them to pull me a little bit closer. He warmed my hands by blowing into them with his breath and rubbing them with his own hands. For a moment, I looked at him and for the first time since our first meeting, I could never conjure up any hypothesis that could explain this behavior.

“I feel much warmer now,” I whispered to him. The travel of his eyes from my hands to my eyes was slower, more hesitant.

“Are you sure?” he asked me, still holding onto my hands. I let my hands slip away from his slowly.

“We’re almost there to the apartment. I’ll be alright now,” I answered.

The rest of the way back home was filled with silence and emotions I was yet to identify.

When we got back, we both stopped in front of my apartment. I was back to normalcy. I couldn’t look into his eyes.

“I enjoyed it–” I started.

“Are you going again next week?” He asked me immediately.

“Of course. Why?”

“Is it okay if… I went with you–”

“Of course it is–”

“I just want to be your friend.”

Silence.

“I don’t bite, Yuki… I’ve always wanted to know you more anyway. Don’t be a stranger.”

He smiled softly, and I felt my stomach flipping.

Again, I am not interested in him that way. It’s just the feeling of not talking to people a lot, I promise.

“Well then. I’ll see you next week,” he told me. He patted my head and walked towards his apartment.

In the next month or so, Yuki found his way into my life. I wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t that I didn’t have any friends, but I never had a friend as engaging as him.

Do friendships also have honeymoon phases?

Forgive me, allow me to retract my previous question.

There were times when we would walk to and from the cinema talking about the film we were about to or just watched, discussing the philosophy of the film and our lives. On other days, we didn’t talk about the film at all–we talked about ourselves and what we went through from the week before the shenanigans with my coworkers and my boss or with Yuki and his teammates. Sometimes, I would confide in him my loneliness and he in me his deepest fears. Though my usual travel time from or to the cinema consistently took fifteen minutes, we would sometimes delay it by five minutes… ten… fifteen… because we spent so much time talking to each other that we never really realized how slow we both walked.

But there were times when we would just walk in complete silence. We didn’t hurry to get back to the apartment either. We walked with a certain rhythm and pace, and somehow, I enjoyed that the most. The most important sound in a film was never really the music or effects that would play, but silence. It amplifies the richness of the scene and more so the action of us walking without speaking to each other.

It was also this silence that made me hear the beating of my heart, that I am most certainly in love with him. Romantically interested. Admired. Liked. Fascinated. Intrigued. And I knew that this was a dangerous path, knowing his quirks and the time spent between us, I knew that there was no door for me to walk in and take a hold of his heart.

I think I’ve seen this film before.

So I decided to guard my emotions, and not do anything about it. I valued his thoughts, and to a greater extent, our friendship. I couldn't tell how honest he’s been to his other friends, but I am not open to the idea of him losing a friend he could talk to just because she’s in love with him. I’ve dealt with enough heartbreak; I’ve mourned more of the friendships lost than the romantic relationship that could have been.

These feelings would pass, as all things have.

One particular night, we had just watched The Moon Has Risen, a Japanese film made in the 50s by Kinuyo Tanaka. Yuki was thrilled to see a film from his homeland, much more a film that he had never heard of. He told me that he was never fond of romance but was willing to give this film a shot since I told him that I loved that film so much–which led him to jokingly say that I was much more cultured than he was because I knew more Japanese films than he did.

But before we even got to the gates, he stopped me.

“I have something to tell you…” he trailed off. I raised my eyebrows. I have now seen his nervous state: his sweaty hands, his avoidant eyes, and much softer voice. Whatever he was willing to say, I knew that both of us were not going to be the same when we went through that gate.

“I’ll be gone,” he simply said. It was short and plain.

“For how long?” I asked.

“When spring comes, I–I’ll be moving somewhere else in the city. Then I’ll leave the country in a few months, then return next winter.”

In other words, he’s leaving. We were never to meet again.

“Oh. It’s a shame,” was all I could say. Short. Plain.

Spring was visiting in two weeks or so.

“Yes, it is,” he told me, “It’s more of a shame that we won’t have time together anymore.”

“Just when I started to get to know you…”

“I know. I mean we can uh… talk on the phone.”

I simply nodded.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked bluntly.

“No, I could never be.”

“I learned so much from you. Not just because of the films we watched. I am seeing my life in another way because of the things you would tell me. And I love you–I mean I–You’re a good friend, for that. You are a good person. Even if I know you have a hard time talking to people. You make an effort. I like it.”

Though spring was about to enter our small world, the air felt colder.

Colder than all the times we traveled to and from the cinema.

I’m not allowed to be upset. He chose this career, and it demands him to do all sorts of things. That path was set in stone for him long before we had met. But there’s a part of me that wants to damn the stars–Was there no other way we could meet? I agreed to keep a distance and to not make a move, and now I won’t be able to admire him from that reasonable distance. The volleyball games were always there, sure, but I won’t be able to hear his every thought—an "exchangeless" currency that I now realize had a rarity I hadn’t hoarded enough. Still, I could not allow selfishness to overcome my feelings, after he had just called me a good person.

“Didn’t I tell you that our meeting was a sign of a good friendship? Distance won’t take away the times we had together, even if it was just for a season. I’ll always be here–and so will the cinema–if you ever decide to pass by,” I told him as I felt my throat dry and sting, “You’re dear to me, nothing will ever change that. So let’s not be sad.”

Yuki took the deepest breath and quickly looked down at his feet. He shook his head before looking up at me. He smiled at me, which I quickly caught faltering before he was able to put his smile back up again.

There were many things that I could say–more that were worth shouting. If silences could bring about a new layer of comfort between people, it could also incite fear: the fear that the ending will inevitably come. Though my hands were freezing, I wanted to say something just so we wouldn’t have to go back inside and return to our apartments and distance ourselves and move on with our lives. Or say something that could change the trajectory of our lives together.

But a coward was what I was. The good minutes of silence between us was a terrible signal that we had to go home, and that we did. The elevator ride, for once, moved in its natural time; it did not slow. Our steps out of the elevator were slow and hesitant, but time still passed quickly. When we got to my apartment, he told me, “I’ll be packing up. I think I’ll be done by next week.”

“Alright.”

“I might pass by your apartment before I leave.”

I took those words to heart. Too much, I believe.

Because he never visited me before left.

The seasons change, and so do we.

Spring has passed, and so has summer and fall. Winter is about to end.

My aunt was disappointed when she learned that Yuki had left, knowing that my life had returned to normalcy.

“Why didn’t you confess to him!?” She asked, shaking me violently, “Do you know how long your mom–Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this!? I can’t let my niece be bitchless!”

“Yuki’s a really famous volleyball player, you know that? I don’t think he has time for someone like me.”

“Pfft–for someone like you. If he tolerated you like you said he did, he wouldn’t go out in the freezing weather every weekend to watch movies with you.”

“Hey–I didn’t say tolerating! I said he was a good friend. Good friends enjoy the company of other people.”

“Nah, nah… I’ve played the love game for so long. He’s in love with you. I know it, I know it.”

“Whatever suits you.”

I never bothered to ask Yuki about why he wanted to go to my apartment and what he wanted to say in the first place. He probably meant to give some biscuits and some parting gifts. But it probably expired, and he was too embarrassed to send in anything. Or so I believed. My aunt told me he was probably going to profess his love, but I don’t think that was the case. It would be uncharacteristic of him.

We still keep in touch. But I’m not much of a social media person, so I’m much less enthusiastic. I know it’s still him talking, but I would rather see him behind the screen, speaking to me. I want to see his lips move, and oh, see his infinite smile. I want to reach his head and ruffle his silly hair, as much as I used to make fun of it for looking so burnt.

He was around the area now and then, which could have been an opportunity for him to visit, but somehow, we never got the chance. He could probably be in the area right now for all we know, walking right under my very nose. I’ll find out sooner or later on Instagram.

Now, here I am, sitting by the window, eating a bowl of near-expired yogurt. It’s past one in the afternoon on a weekend, so I’m taking in my time watching the people pass by. When you’re lonely and boyfriend-less (Or, as my aunt likes to say, “Yuki-less”), you resort to doing ridiculous things such as this. Though I could have visited the cinema around this time, I decided to go against it–I am reminded too much of our time together.

Then there’s a knock on the door. Another. Afterwards, it becomes faster and faster, until I lazily stand up and open the door.

“There’s a doorbell—”

Yuki appears before me, with his hands ready to knock on the door once more. My eyes widen as much as his–which is funny because he should be expecting me by the door–and our cheeks redden. There’s a beat before either of us gets to talk.

“–You know…” I trail off.

“Hello,” he greets me.

“Hi. What brings you here?”

“I just wanted to see you.”

No other particular reason?

“Well, it’s nice seeing you again, Yuki. Come on in,” I sigh. I lead him to the dining set, where we both sit across from each other.

“Before I say anything, I wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For saying that I wanted to visit you one last time and not visiting you anyway.”

I raise my eyebrows, stretching my arms. I look at my surroundings before I could really look into his eyes, “I have no problem with that. I know you’re busy–”

“I wasn’t busy–”

“You don’t have to lie–”

“I didn’t visit because I was afraid.”

Beat.

“Yuki… I know humans hate goodbyes. It’s only natural.”

“No, you don’t understand–let me explain. I wanted to come to your apartment before I left because I wanted to tell you what I felt.”

“About what?”

“About you. I–I–”

He lightly combs his messy hair. He looks around the apartment as if to look for something that could calm him down. Then he looks at me, before avoiding my face altogether. He takes in a deep breath… one… two… three… before he continues talking:

“I liked you–no, don’t interrupt me–I like you. Before we met, uhhh I passed by you when I was unpacking my things. Your voice was so loud that I could hear everything. But the way you said it… interested me. And I like people who talk a lot. But I couldn’t find a way to… talk to you…” He pauses, everything becoming a calculation to him, before continuing, “…And I didn’t mean our first meeting to go like that. But when I was running away, and I saw you, I had this… feeling… this… what do you call it… instinct… to pull you with me.”

He then tells me, “The reason why I didn’t want to talk to you after so many months was because I thought you were angry at me. Your responses are much shorter than how you spoke in real life. And I thought I messed up.”

He takes in a sharp breath, “I remember everything since when we first met. The days when you would tie your hair… and the days you do not. The outfits that you wore. But what I remember the most was the things you would tell me. It would be hard for me to not like someone whose eyes would go big and their hands would move around every time they talk about something that they loved. You’re just… full of… love.”

I did not know he was capable of doing this, nor was he withholding such emotions for so long.

I stood up and sat beside him. Months had passed when I had overcome the fear of looking into his eyes, but I fear that it’s all returned. I cannot look at him.

I say to him, with my head down, “Thank you for telling me all that.”

“Is that…”

“...I… feel just about the same way too.”

“You do?”

“Of course–do you not believe me? I haven’t gone to the cinema that much since you’ve left. And to think I’ve gone to the cinema for nearly every week of my entire life before you came along.”

“You like me? Why?”

I laugh at him and pinch his cheeks. “Do I need a reason to like you? I like you for who you are. And I’m sure you know who you are. Every bit of yourself–I admire it.”

He looks at me, and he nods at every word. He looks to the side as if to process everything, and then he looks at me again. He wants to say something, a syllable coming out of his lips, but nothing keeps coming out. He sighs over and over, before looking at me straight into my eyes.

So when his voice fails himself, all that is left is the language of touch. He puts his arms out first and reaches out to me. Slowly… inch by inch… Then an embrace. He covers my body with his large hands, as the words he wanted to put out are finally clear to me: the roughness of his hands translates to the command of his voice, the pressing of his fingers the depth of his words, and the more his skin is stuck with the rest of me, the more I could identify the unspoken sentences.

He breaks our hug to take a good look at me, capturing a photo only his memory can take, each shot separated by the blinking of his desperate eyes. Then he kisses me.

To say “I admire you” too platonic, “I love you” too strong. The best I can do was to look into his eyes. To look into the eye of another was to become vulnerable, but to look into his eyes was a moment of submission and power in a gentleness I could not feel from any other person but him. He sees me, I see him—to the both of us, these meant more. He pats my hair to an unfamiliar beat. Immediately after, he places his hand on my forehead horizontally and slowly slides it down, closing my eyes. He kisses my left eyelid then my right.

“Did you take some inspiration from Amélie?” I ask him.

“I was starting to like more romantic movies because I could learn a bit from them,” he laughs.

“Aren’t you an adorable idiot.”

“It took both of us a year to say what we wanted to say. I think it’s something we should work on–we’re both idiots, after all.”

We both laugh as we look out into the window.

The snow had already fallen, spreading out on the streets like fallen flowers. They’ve melted as they always eventually did. Winter has come and gone. Now comes spring, and our story begins to bloom with it.

#mine #mine: ishikawa yuki x oc #yuki ishikawa #volleyball #resident of idgafrica with the way i wrote this lol #ishikawa yuki #yapper central GRAHHH

107 notes · View notes

peachhcs · 9 months ago

Note

Could we get kinda what we go from “Sammy how she was really that Will was work it” but in this case how Will was also in a dilema because it’s his best friend and it take him time to understand but he is also willing to sacrifice everything because it’s Sammy his best friend the girl he loves.

the 3 times will's confused about his feelings and the 1 time he isn't

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

will's pining after his best friend, but is he really willing to risk their entire friendship for a relationship?

5.9k words

woo second longest fic of the series and i'm finally doing a request! guys if this is bad, i'm so sorry. i got a bit carried away and i don't like the ending but that's fine lol i'm still working through my requests but feel free to send more and i'll get to it at some point :) this also isn't proofread so if you see mistakes my bad i will try and proofread this soon lol

au masterlist

ONE

the first time will's heart skipped a beat against his chest when he wasn't drunk enough to play off any of the feelings trying to make their way to the surface was watching samy's senior send off for her last homecoming. there were probably over 30 families in the small drive trying to take photos together along with couples everywhere navigating their way through the crowds. knowing the last homecoming was a big deal for samy, will convinced gabe and ryan to drive down to see her off knowing she'd really appreciate having them there.

the three stood with ellen, jim, and luke in a small corner of the lot watching the youngest hughes pack herself together with all of her friends for pictures. there was something nostalgic about all of it considering the boys didn't get things like this when all of their focus was on hockey most of the time. even if they denied it, they secretly loved getting to be a part of samy's senior year.

gabe and ryan talked mindlessly with luke and while will stood in their small circle, he definitely was not paying attention to what was being said. instead, his eyes lingered on his best friend. she stood some feet away from them immersed in her own conversation filled with laughter and large smiles with no idea that a pair of eyes couldn't leave her no matter how hard they tried.

for the entire day since they got to samy's house, will's eyes kept finding samy even if she wasn't looking at him. he'd be standing with ryan and gabe and his gaze would just drift away from them to samy whenever she was in the same room as them. even when she was just walking by, will's eyes followed every single move.

he didn't get it. it couldn't be because of her curled hair, sparkly dress, and makeup.

he's seen her dressed up so many times over the summers because their parents would drag them out to eat at a fancy restaurant no matter how many times they said they didn't want to. it happed at least twice in the three months they spent together, so will didn't get why he just couldn't peel his eyes off the girl.

there was another reason and one that the blonde hadn't fully come to terms with yet.

her date was this guy she'd been talking to on and off over the summer. will met him once when he stopped by in august to take samy out for their first date. he seemed fine—soccer player, good grades, a swimmer on occasion. nothing special, but not some jerk at least. samy liked him and that was all that mattered.

what no one knew was that will didn't fall asleep that night until he heard the front door closing and soft footsteps padding up the stairs where samy's bedroom door shut seconds later meaning she made it back safely.

the guy clung to samy's side the entire time taking pictures. his arm was wrapped around her waist at nearly every second like he was afraid she'd disappear if he let go. that gesture, seeing him grip samy's waist like that, had will's chest tightening into knots and his heart skipping a beat. something in him popped open—a feeling. an urge.

a jealousy.

as soon as those thoughts mixed into the blonde's consciousness, his face whitened even more than it was. his jealousy quickly faded into confusion then back to jealousy then back to confusion the back to—

"you okay?" gabe's voice broke will's thoughts. he snapped his gaze towards his friend who already looked at him expectantly. ryan and luke raised their eyebrows, but tried not to act like they were staring at him.

will's jaw immediately loosened and the color in his face quickly returned to normal as if the feelings in his chest moments ago were never there in the first place.

"yeah, why?"

gabe paused. he looked at his friend a bit longer before slowly shaking his head. "no reason. you looked lost there," the dark-haired boy shrugged.

"think i'm just tired," will forced a yawn to make it more believable.

he knew gabe was studying him like he didn't quite believe what he was saying. next to samy, gabe probably knew will the best which meant he knew when the entire truth wasn't being told. feeling a bit flustered, will drew his gaze away from gabe, but unfortunately, it led itself right back to samy and her date hanging off her side.

something inside of will was screaming as the warmth in his skin returned and his jaw unknowingly clenched seeing them so close together. the feelings returned along with the battle in his mind between jealousy and confusion.

was that why he couldn't peel his eyes away from her all day? because of her date being at her side at every single second and staring at her in a way that made will's stomach drop not because he didn't like the way her date was looking at her, but because he wanted to be the one looking at her like that—

"will! get over here!" this time samy's voice broke the boy from his racing thoughts.

she found his gaze, a soft smile on her lips motioning him over. his nerves eased and a smile replaced the confusion on his features as he shuffled towards her. ellen already had her camera out as samy's date (finally) dropped from her side and will took his place.

samy, who was as oblivious as ever, tucked her head into the blonde's shoulder while his arm found the same exact place on her waist. her touch shot a fiery sensation through will as he mustered up his best smile for ellen 's phone.

"you guys look adorable. i'll send these to your mom," ellen beamed before ushering gabe and ryan into the photo as well.

ryan grabbed samy's other side while gabe hooked himself onto will's side. the four of them scrunched together with wide smiles, but all will could think about was samy's hip pressing into his own marking just how close they were and the explosion it sent throughout the boy's body.

"so, so cute, i'm so glad you guys drove down," ellen said and finished taking pictures for now.

the three broke apart, but lingered close by as samy grabbed her phone to check her makeup. "i think you've looked at yourself twenty times in the span of fifteen minutes," ryan laughed.

"shut up, leonard," the brunette eyed him.

"i'm just saying. you look fine. stop worrying," the taller boy said in a more softer tone. samy rolled her eyes before her gaze fell on will, seeking confirmation because she knew he'd be honest with her.

will's poor blush got worse under her stare, "don't listen to leno. you look good."

his words made samy grin, "thanks, i trust you. thanks for coming down. it means a lot." she ruffled up some of his curls that surprisingly weren't hidden by a baseball cap for once.

"yeah, of course. wouldn't miss it for the world, hughesy."

her smile had will's heart skipping a beat for a second time and something in him wanted to make her smile like that all the time.

the reality of everything set back in when samy's date returned to her side and started whisking her away as everyone began leaving. the girl rushed out her goodbyes and thank you's before disappearing into a car.

"you guys are more than welcome to hang around the house for the night if you don't wanna drive back. dinner, too," ellen extended her offer to the three boys hanging around still.

"anything made by mama hughes is an automatic yes," ryan grinned making the others laugh.

"i'm flattered. you can follow us back up to the house," the older woman beamed.

later that night after the boys ate as much as they physically could, gabe found will sitting on the back deck looking blankly ahead. the dark-haired boy shuffled his way towards the edge of the deck using his foot to poke will's back, announcing his presence.

"what are you doing out here by yourself?" gabe wondered. the sun hadn't set yet, but the air was growing cooler as october drifted into november and there wasn't much to look at besides a playground and the family pool.

"just..thinking," will answered.

for a moment, gabe wondered if he should keep prodding because he definitely knew what will was thinking about. he saw it when they stood in the lot watching samy take pictures with everyone. he saw it in will's face when him and samy took pictures together.

"about?" the boy sat on the step above the one will was on.

"just stuff," the vagueness had gabe rolling his eyes.

"about samy?"

sure, the guys teased the two all the time about having feelings for one another, but it was never serious. they were always joking and will knew that which was why he could brush their comments off. this time gabe was being serious and they both knew that. will couldn't push his questions or comments off.

the silence from the blonde told gabe everything he needed to know. he saw right through will.

"seeing her with her date..i don't know. i didn't like it. it felt wrong. i-i think i felt jealous? like..like maybe it should've been me instead?" will hardly ever opened up about his feelings, especially regarding samy, but he knew gabe wouldn't stop asking.

"do you know why you felt jealous?" gabe wondered.

the words were on the tip of will's tongue, yet he couldn't bring himself to say it. those words have bounced around in his head since that stupid truth or dare game where samy kissed him in the bathroom. they were there when they were drunk and made out with one another, yet neither of them talked about it after. they were there when samy was the first person he went to after a game.

it was all there, but will couldn't say it.

"no, i don't."

if he said it, it made the feelings real and in will's mind, they couldn't be real. she was his best friend. that was all she'd ever be.

TWO

no one spoke a word in the locker room after coach's harsh lecture. the loss sunk into everyone's skin, especially since it was their first loss of the season and they were supposed to win this game. no one did anything right which was why they gave up three points to the other team. the buzz of adrenaline that usually danced across every guy was replaced with solemn and disappointment. will felt it extra hard after his coach pulled him aside to give him an extra lecture.

he was one of the team's best, the coach's favorite, the team's favorite, yet he let everyone down giving up those three points.

no one dared speaking to one another as everyone slowly drifted out of the locker room once they were showered and redressed. will hardly moved from his stall, though. his head fell into his hands along with a bitter line of frustration towards himself.

he couldn't step out of the locker room with the knowledge his parents were waiting probably disappointed in him and another harsh lecture to follow. the boy couldn't handle that right now. he needed to focus on breathing before he punched something and got into even more trouble.

a small knock caught his attention. will lifted his head fully expecting his dad, but when he saw samy lingering in the doorway, everything about his demeanor shifted.

"oh will," the brunette frowned seeing his state.

she went to him, hands pulling his own away from his hair and wiping the tears will didn't even know was falling down his cheeks. "ryan and gabe said you were in here still," the girl explained her presence.

"we fucking lost," the boy choked out.

"i know. i know. it sucks," she pulled him into her so she could run her fingers through his hair and massage the spots he pulled at in frustration.

something about her soft touch and soothing voice had more tears spilling out of the boy as he buried his face into her chest.

will was by no means a vulnerable person. he had a hard time being emotional with people, but everything with samy was different. he could cry in her arms for however long he wanted knowing she wouldn't ever judge him and let him cry for as long as he needed.

her gentle fingers wound around his curls which was a stark contrast to the way he roughly pulled at them minutes ago. they just sat there on the bench while will attempted to regather himself so he'd stop crying, but samy hardly minded. she hummed some mindless tune and everything about it had will's head spinning.

those feelings he had a few weeks ago were back and a lot stronger than before. jealousy, want, and need mixed themselves together creating a pretty lethal combination building in the boy's chest, but again, he couldn't understand it.

why, why, why, why, why.

"wanna talk about it at all?" samy wondered after some more silence.

will slowly lifted his head up so he could meet her gaze. he probably looked like hell, but if he did, samy didn't any anything.

"i let everyone down. coach is mad at me and i'm sure my parents are gonna give it to me once i go out there," the blonde frowned a bit making samy frown as well.

"you didn't let people down. you played your heart out. tonight just wasn't your night," samy said softly.

"but we lost a game we should've won. everyone was counting on me to prove that i'm good at his and deserve a spot on a d1 college team," will continued.

"this one loss doesn't mean you're not good enough. you are good enough. a bad game isn't a bad career. i think you're good enough."

i think you're good enough. her words tightened will's chest along with the way she stared at him—so loving and so sure of his abilities.

"you're just saying that because you have to," the boy almost scoffed.

"i'm not, i promise. i've always thought you're good enough, will. you lost a game and that sucks, but it's not a bad career. no one hates you because you did your best," her words warmed the hockey player's heart.

she wrapped her arms around his neck for a tight hug. will's own 'arms tightened around her waist and buried his face into the crook of her neck. if someone walked in who didn't know them, they'd definitely think they were dating just based on the way they were wrapped around each other.

will never wanted to let go, but he knew he had to eventually, so he drew back. samy smiled, placing a gentle kiss to the boy's forehead. she's done it before, but right now it meant a lot more to will than before. the gentleness of her lips had the boy wondering what they'd feel like against his own lips when neither of them were drunk to even really remember what happened the next morning.

"you wanna go out there together?" samy wondered.

the blonde nodded. he collected his things and wrapped his arm tightly around samy's shoulders as they finally faced his parents waiting for him. they spotted them a few feet outside of the locker room and will braced himself for the worst.

will's mom saw her son's state—dreary eyes, teary cheeks, messed up hair—and placed a hand on her husband's arm before he said anything he was planning on saying. colleen knew another lecture wasn't what her son needed nor wanted. she saw samy hanging off his arm knowing she probably calmed him down in the locker room and she hated disrupting the peace samy brought to him in whatever way.

instead, colleen stepped forward to collect will into a hug. "you did your best, yeah?" she whispered into his ear. all will did was nod.

"you wanna join us for dinner, samy?" colleen looked over at the girl.

she was about to decline the offer until she met will's gaze that said something like please stay and she couldn't ever say no to him when he looked at her like that.

"yeah, i'd love to. thank you."

with that, the four piled into the car back to the house. as soon as will got situated in the back seat, he reached for samy. the girl laid herself in her arms and for a second, everything felt okay. the feelings racing through his chest eased while those three words crept up further and further up.

after dinner, will dragged samy to his room to watch a movie while trying to avoid his dad's lecture for as long as he possibly could. they didn't even get 20 minutes in until samy was falling asleep against the boy's chest. it was a pretty regular occurrence, especially over the summer, but right now will was terrified to even move because he didn't wanna wake her up.

he found his phone, clicking into gabe's contact and staring at the chat for a moment before typing something. he stared a his message for a moment, debating on sending it.

if he sent it, his feelings became real. could he actually do that? could he actually admit something that's been plaguing his mind for months now?

what if everything went wrong?

before will could even think about sending it, his phone started buzzing in his hands as grace's contact flashed across the screen. he grabbed his airpods just as his sister's face appeared.

"hi will. i heard about your game," the older smith smiled gently.

"it was a shit show," will whispered.

"it looked like you were playing well though?" grace offered, but the boy only shrugged.

"i don't know. i guess?"

"why are you whispering?" grace wondered quickly making her brother's face flush.

he carefully directed his camera down to where samy could be seen sleeping at his side. the look on grace's face was a mix between surprise and a small smirk because she also knew all too well about her brother's feelings even if he didn't say anything.

"so when are you finally gonna ask her out?" grace teased.

"stop," will rolled his eyes.

"what? i'm not sure cuddling in your bed is something just friends do," the older girl stated.

"or drunk makeouts?" will muttered that part, but grace heard him nonetheless.

"drunk what?" she sounded nearly flabbergasted.

"never mind," the boy shook his head.

"seriously, will. you obviously like her. what other reason is there for feeling jealous of her homecoming date?"

grace stumped him with that one. will's gaze drifted down to the girl still sleeping peacefully beside him. his fingers found a place in her hair and gently wrapped it around his fingers like she had done for him. the blood roared in his ears along with a feeling of warmth spreading all across his chest watching samy sleep so soundly at his side like nothing else mattered.

"what if i'm scared?" will finally said.

"scared? of what?" grace grew confused.

"if i admit how i feel, it makes it real and i'm scared of making it real. she's my best friend, grace. i'm not supposed to feel this way," the blonde's admission had grace's expression softening.

"i think that's all the more reason to feel this way. the most unexpected feelings come from the most unexpected people, will. i doubt she doesn't feel the same way too."

when the siblings ended their call, will went back to him and gabe's chat feeling a bit more sure than he did before grace called. his message still sat in the box waiting to be sent. with one final look at samy, will hit send and he knew everything after this was gonna be as real as it could get.

from will i think i like samy

THREE

a loud buzzing pulled will from his sleep. the boy jolted, bleary eyes trying to adjust to the dark and find the source of the incredibly obnoxious buzzing. his eyes flicked around his room until his phone screen lit up and he finally realized someone was trying to call him.

he grabbed his phone, not even hesitating as he lifted it to his ear and sounds of a party came through on the other end.

"hello?" will rasped out, sleep laced deep in his voice.

"w-will? hey!" marcie's voice came through. the boy raised his eyebrow trying to remember if he ever gave marcie his phone number.

he pulled the phone away to read the screen, but nothing answered his confusion seeing samy's name on the screen. "marcie?" the boy mumbled.

"hi, hey. yes. sorry. i'm sorry for calling so late..i..jesus.." she stumbled over her words and for some reason, that woke will up more when he heard the slight slur in her tone and her fast talking.

"are you okay?" the boy sat up in his bed.

"yes. maybe. so..we're at this party..we're like..30? maybe? minutes from you? samy drank a little too much..and i-i didn't know who else to call? her brothers would've definitely killed her and..and you were like the first person on her emergency contact list. i know it's late..but like..could you come down? please?"

marcie didn't even have to ask twice as will jumped out of bed and got himself dressed as quickly as possible.

"i'm on my way. can you send me your location?" he was out the front door a second later with keys in hand to his car.

"yes, i did. don't freak out, she'll be fine i just..i have no idea where to take her," marcie explained.

"i'll be there as quickly as possible, okay? just keep her awake and make her drink water," will rushed and the two said goodbye after that.

about 100 thoughts ran through will's head all at once as he definitely went over the speed limit. something in him paled at the idea of samy at a party getting too drunk that she couldn't make decisions for herself. he wondered why she didn't invite him? or why she was drinking that much in the first place?

"just breathe, will," the boy muttered to himself before he gave himself a panic attack.

he made it the house in record time probably going the fastest he's ever gone in a car to cut the trip down. marcie and samy were on the front lawn where will rushed to them as soon as the car slid into park.

"hey, you okay?" he hugged marcie first.

"yeah, i'm fine. i'm sorry again. it's so late and i..i don't know why i didn't..i'm sorry," the girl became flustered and embarrassed she even let her friend get so drunk.

"don't apologize. it's not your fault. has she been drinking water?" will gazed down at the brunette on the ground.

"yeah, i've been giving her a little bit."

samy's eyes gazed up at will while a hint of recognition flashed through them before she literally jumped into his arms.

"willie! hey! what are you doing here?" the girl exclaimed as she practically clung onto him.

"came to get you. you doing okay?" will pulled his gaze down to hers.

"mhm, yeah. perfecttt," she dragged out the t.

"i'm glad you're perfect. wanna get in the car?" samy gave him a half nod as him and marcie helped the girl into the back seat. she practically collapsed onto the entire back row with small fits of giggles leaving her lips.

marcie and will got back into the front. the first five or so minutes of the drive became filled with silence besides the soft hum of the radio and samy's quiet mumbling to herself. will glanced at her through the rearview mirror every five seconds probably—worry etched into his features and the hundred thoughts racing through his mind again.

"i'm sorry again. i don't know why she got so drunk," marcie broke the silence, her voice small.

"don't apologize. it's not your fault," will said. his words didn't convince the girl because she just shook her head.

"i don't really know the details but i think her and kevin stopped talking. she was briefly talking about it with me the other day and then she proposed going to that party i think to get over him.." marcie's voice faded off into the deafening silence in the car.

kevin was samy's newest guy—the same one she went to homecoming with. they had been talking for quite a long time with an implication of a relationship soon, so will wondered where it went wrong.

"i don't know if i should be telling you this either, but samy started rambling on about you. it was broken sentences, but she kept saying how it's been you all along, even kevin knew. something like that," the girl's words tightened the blonde's chest into the familiar knots he's become acquainted with over the past few months.

"oh."

"i mean come on, will. you guys are so obvious yet so oblivious at the same time. why else do you think she kisses you in the bathroom?" there was something about driving down backroads at almost three in the morning that brought out the most vulnerable in people.

"i-i don't think that really counts. she's drunk. i'm drunk," will swallowed nervously, his eyes glancing up at samy again.

"well, yeah, but aren't drunk words, drunk actions sober thoughts? you're always the one she goes to by the end of the night," the two met each other's gazes. marcie had a pointed look on her expression that will tried not to read into too much.

"i don't know. it still doesn't feel genuine though?"

"what about the time you guys kissed sober during that truth or dare?" that was the only time him and samy were sober and kissing. will thought about that moment a lot.

another silence filled between them. the boy's glance landed on samy who was close to sleep and everything marcie just said replayed over and over in his mind. there was a tug at his heart thinking about samy having him as her first emergency contact and another tug at the smallest idea that she might actually like him back.

"you like her, right?" marcie spoke again. will's gazed flick over to hers momentarily.

"yeah," the boy whispered knowing samy was too out of it to understand what they were talking about.

"i know your scared about ruining everything with her if you did date, but i know you guys care a lot about each other to ever think about hurting one another. when i first met you last year i immediately saw your relationship. i saw the way you looked at her and the way she looked at you. i don't think i've ever seen a guy care that much about her before and that's coming from someone who's been her friend since middle school. you mean a lot to her, will. like a lot," marcie rambled on, but her words had a deep blush spreading across the boy's cheeks.

will led marcie to the guest room while he sat samy down on the couch. he wanted to sober her up before he let her go to bed knowing she'd have a killer hangover in the morning and he feared she'd throw up in her sleep.

"thanks for calling me, mar. i'll make sure she'll be okay," will said before the girl went to bed.

a soft smile appeared on her lips, "i know you will. thanks for coming and getting us. i hope your parents won't hate you."

"they won't. i'll explain everything and make sure you guys won't get in trouble," the two exchanged warm smiles.

will returned his attention to the girl on the couch. he grabbed water, a snack, and tylenol in hopes that it will sober her up some more. samy gazed up at him as he came back into the living room, a smile on her lips.

"aww, you're so sweet willie. i love cheez-its," the brunette hummed.

"i know you do," the boy chuckled. he poured a few into a bowl, not wanting samy to overeat and make herself sick.

"you should've been at the party. it was sooo much fun," the girl gushed.

"it looks like you had fun."

"i dumped kevin," her bluntness caught will of guard. he's never been around her when she was this drunk and was quickly learning that samy said anything on her mind.

"i heard," the boy hummed.

"i didn't really like him that much anyway. he kept arguing with me about stupid stuff. he thinks you like me! isn't that hilarious?" soft laughter tumbled from the girl's lips, but will wasn't laughing. the only thing he could hear was his pounding heart beating a bruise against his chest.

"i started thinking about it a lot, actually. maybe it's part of the reason why i broke up with him. i don't really know. dating your best friend? that seems scary to me," she kept rambling and will had no idea what to say.

he wanted to confess everything to her, but he knew she definitely wouldn't remember any of this in the morning, so how true was it really? it brought will back to all of the times they woke up the morning after drunkenly making out, but samy never said anything about it. they just acted like nothing happened.

"yeah, it does seem scary," the blonde managed.

"i mean would you date me? i'm saying all of this and i don't even know if you like me," the girl laughed again.

will's heart clenched, biting his tongue to keep from saying anything, "how are you feeling? it's getting late. maybe you should try and sleep?"

"you're right. i'm exhausted and i'm gonna feel like shit in the morning," samy mumbled.

"is sleeping in grace's room okay?" will collected her things, extending his hand out to help her up the stairs.

"mhmm, sounds perfect."

the two tiptoed up the stairs to the older smith's bedroom. will helped take samy's shoes off and he attempted to wipe some of her makeup off before laying her down. the girl smiled lazily at him.

"thanks for taking care of me, willie. you mean a lot to me."

"of course. i'll see you in the morning," the blonde returned her smile, but as soon as he faced away from her, it faded.

once the bedroom door was shut, will leaned himself against it to just recollect himself with the ache in his heart that samy wouldn't remember anything about tonight. hell, marcie's words were probably just drunk rambling.

THE 1 TIME

goosebumps ran up will's skin when a delicate hand ran across his arm, pulling the blonde from the book he was reading. he lifted his head, a soft smile appearing on his lips seeing samy peering down at him. "hi," will said.

"hi, pretty boy," samy returned his soft smile with one her own. hearing that pet name roll off her tongue directed at him was something will would never get used to. even though they've only been together for a month, he'd nevr get tired of hearing it.

"what's up?" the blonde wondered as he reached his hand up to run across samy's skin.

"just wanted to come say hi. you looked so cozy up here," the girl giggled.

"wanna sit?" will offered the tiny space next to him. samy swung her legs over, basically landing in his lap because the seat was definitely not made for two people—or a 6'0 hockey player and his girlfriend.

"how was golfing with jack, quinn, and luke?" the guys went out early to get a game in and samy did not like golf that much to get up as early as they did.

"it was fun. i think luke killed all of us, but i think gabe and ryan had fun," the blonde laughed. he caught sight of his teammates down in the yard trying to play volleyball.

"i swear, my brothers' profession would be golfing if it weren't for hockey," the girl giggled which was like music to will's ears.

"you should come next time. i think you could definitely beat luke," will lovingly squeezed part of her leg that rested atop his lap.

"are you just saying that because you want to see me in a skirt?" samy teased a bit which caused will to blush a deep crimson all the way to the tips of his ears.

"shut up. that's not what i was implying," he playfully rolled his eyes.

"i know, i'm just kidding. my brothers are way better at golf than i am, so i definitely could not beat any of them."

a comfortable silence settled between the couple. will's gaze lingered on samy who glanced at her phone, so she missed her boyfriend's loving stare until she looked back up and flushed when he was already looking at her.

"when do you leave for boston?" she changed the subject for now.

"august 12th," will answered with a hint of sadness laced in his voice. the idea of leaving hurt will a lot more than he thought it would. especially after finally getting the girl.

sure, he'd have all of his teammates following him, but the one person he wanted to always be around wasn't coming.

"three weeks away?" samy wondered and the boy nodded.

"i can't believe it's already here," will mumbled earning a tiny frown from the brunette.

"you're gonna do so awesome at boston, will. i'm really proud of you."

samy shifted so she could wrap her arms around his neck. he buried his face into the crook her neck, placing soft kisses against her skin. "i wish you were coming with me," he mumbled.

"me too. i wish we got our act together and got together a lot sooner. maybe if i wasn't so afraid of my feelings and kept pushing them away," samy rolled her eyes, but will pulled back. he raised his eyebrow in confusion.

"wait, how long have you known about your feelings?"

samy's face flushed, "well..i kept pushing them away every time we drunkenly made out at parties. i don't know. prom i knew i had feelings, but i was scared and stupid."

"so you did remember the next morning after the party," will chuckled in mostly amusement.

"uh, yeah. i did. i never said anything because i just..i don't know. i didn't know how you felt. i didn't wanna make it weird and we had a thing going," she shrugged a bit.

"it wasn't obvious to you how i felt after?" will smiled a bit with a small tilt of his head.

"looking back, yeah it was obvious. i was stupid," the girl flushed again.

all will could do was laugh and pull samy closer to his chest where he never wanted to let go. everything they went through was worth it in the end to finally have the girl will's always had feelings for. for once in life, he was finally sure about something besides hockey.

hockey's been a constant and he was too dumb to realize he had another one right in front of his face all along.

as the hot summer sun danced between the clouds, will had everything he could ever need. samy laid against his chest and what was better than having his favorite girl beside him all the time now? he truly couldn't ask for anything more.

#hughes!sister x will smith au #will smith hockey #samy x will #boston college #boston college hockey #samy hughes #umich hockey #will smith imagine #will smith x oc #uofmichigan #will smith fluff #will smith hockey fluff #bc hockey #gabe perreault #ryan leonard #luke hughes

164 notes · View notes

skamenglishsubs · 8 months ago

Text

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 4

Last episode ended with Simon coming home to a smashed window, this episode starts the morning after, Simon takes the bus to school, while Wilhelm is anxiously waiting for him.

Culture: At a high school level in Sweden, there's national tests in Swedish, English, and Math. Like everywhere else, the purpose of these tests is not only to grade students, but to align all schools across the country to combat grade inflation.

Blink and you miss it: Vincent is trying to cheat by looking at Nils' answers.

Blink and you miss it: Vincent draws a dick in the gravel while waiting for the others to be done with the test.

Subtext: This entire episode is overflowing with examples of privilege. For Vincent, and many other rich kids like him, studying and learning doesn't matter, they'll graduate regardless, so he doesn't care about the exam, he only cares about the graduation party.

Cinematography: Even with Felice and friends being completely blurred out in the background, you can still see Stella and Fredrika turning to look at Sara, and then turning their backs on her.

Culture: In the US, a lot of people are using "socialism" as a catch-all phrase which means politics they don't agree with, regardless of its actual ideology. Likewise, in Sweden, a lot of people use "communist" in the same way about generally left-wing politics, which is what Vincent is doing here.

Subtext: Wilhelm asks Simon if he can reconcile the conflict of dating a royal while being anti-monarchy, but the real question is of course if Wilhelm can reconcile the conflict in himself.

Subtext: This is where the show's political stance shines through, and this argument, that Wilhelm wasn't allowed to choose his life for himself, is the main argument they're gonna use in the finale.

Subtext: Wilhelm is weakly defending the monarchy, but just ends up repeating what his mother told him; it's a privilege, not a punishment, but does he believe it himself?

Subtext: The letter-to-yourself plot is mainly there in order to help August along his redemption arc, but here the show is using it to reinforce the point of the previous scene. Who does Wilhelm want to become? Does he have a choice?

Culture: In Sweden, Säkerhetspolisen, SÄPO, is the government agency in charge of national security, which includes providing security and assigning bodyguards to the royal family.

Subtext: Note the great use of passive voice here by Farima to avoid taking responsibility for the decision to force August to join the birthday foundation event. She's also expertly bargaining with Wilhelm to get what she wants.

Subtext: We know it was the far-right assholes who posted comments to Simon's videos a couple of episodes ago.

Blink and you miss it: Jan-Olof really perks up when Linda talks about moving to Gothenburg, because that would probably mean the end to the relationship between Wilhelm and Simon, which would solve all of his current problems.

Subtext: Like Farima, he bargains with Linda and Simon to get what he wants, for Simon to stop posting things to social media. It's almost as if their strategy was to do nothing at the start, waiting for things to blow up so they could swoop in, help out, and start making demands in exchange...

Blink and you miss it: The option to inactivate and hide your social media account is right there, but of course Simon has to choose to delete everything, because it will cause more drama and anguish.

Blink and you miss it: Fencing! Woohoo! I did fencing for five years as a kid until 8th grade or something, but I only did foil, and not épée like these students. I have absolutely no idea where these two are coming from or going to though, where would they practice? Is there a hidden fencing hall somewhere on the grounds that we haven't seen yet? How many kids at Hillerska are fencing? Also, he's carrying a practice blade and not an electric competition blade, so that checks out. Of the three types of modern fencing, épée is unique in that the entire body counts as a valid target, while in foil only the torso counts, and in sabre only the upper half counts. Oh wow, it looks like the gear is now wireless and every fencer carries their own indicator lights. Cool! Back in my day you had to be strapped in with a cord for competitions.

This tumblr is now about French School fencing. Allez! Touché!

Subtext: The narrative is that it's perfectly ok for the crown prince to be gay, as long as he's not gay gay.

Culture: The show keeps saying this, but in real world Sweden it's no longer the case. Supporting los jibbities is viewed as a completely mainstream and inoffensive opinion, on par with supporting human rights in general.

Subtext: Another example of privilege is being in a position to do a lot of good, and then just not caring about it. Simon is fighting for the causes he believes in, so seeing Wilhelm just casually throw it away is extremely disappointing for him.

Subtext: Unlike Vincent, August is actually a natural leader, someone people listen to, which is why he manages to quiet down the room when Vincent is unable to. Maybe a good quality in a future king?

Subtext: Simon is continuing the argument from before. Wilhelm could have shown solidarity with mental health causes or LGBT causes, but chose not to. However, he immediately decided to join in solidarity with the other rich kids protesting the school rules, which is rather selfish.

Subtext: Colour theory! Sara in purple, because part of the reason she's back at school is that August asked her to? And Simon in yellow, because he sure isn't loving Wilhelm very much right now.

Subtext: Just a reminder that Sara has actually been completely out of the loop since the end of season 2. She has no idea about the school rules, what's happened at home, how it's going with Simon and Wilhelm, or what's happening at school.

Blink and you miss it: Fredrika is so close to stop striking as soon as she's threatened with repercussions.

Subtext: I keep hammering this point home: The culture is in the walls, it's not something some of the kids made up. The visiting alumni were also hazed as new students and kept it going as third years. Same for the parents of all these kids. They're all part of the system, they all kept the cycles of abuse going, because they want the school to be like that.

Subtext: Privilege is thinking you can get things your way with almost no effort. None of these kids have ever struggled or protested something for real and then not been given what they wanted, so they seriously believed they'd win immediately.

Subtext: Another theme of this season is bringing secrets out in the open. We've all seen August struggling with body dysmorphia and an eating disorder since season 1, but no-one has ever called it out and put words on it, until Simon immediately recognizes it and calls it out.

Subtext: ...while the rich kids are just stuck in denial, because eating disorders is for poor people or something, it's not something that happens to them. And if it did, you certainly wouldn't admit it to anyone else.

Subtext: August tries to jokingly fend off Nils because he doesn't want anyone to know that the letter actually meant something to him, until Nils pushes too hard, and August punches him.

Subtext: Vincent talked a big game about striking in solidarity, but when they're caught as hilariously unprepared as they are, they're not pooling their resources in solidarity with each other, and instead resort to selling them to the highest bidder. Capitalism in a nutshell, illustrated perfectly by the behaviour of spoiled rich kids. Also, pet peeve, the English word for the currency of Sweden is "kronor", not "crowns".

Lost in translation: They're actually repeating a single word in Swedish, "svikare", which is pretty hard to translate. The verb, "svika", is a bit worse than letting someone down, but not as bad as betraying someone. The adjective, "besviken" typically means disappointed. So "svikare" means a person who is letting other people down, disappointing them, or betraying them.

Subtext: The culture is in the walls of the place, but the kids are also pretty damn complicit in continuing all the shitty traditions. This looks like a game of strip poker or truth or dare that went off the rails and just resulted in more bullying, with everyone joining in.

Subtext: The other girls are upset with Felice because she broke the code. You don't snitch to outsiders, you don't tell the truth, you keep up appearances.

Blink and you miss it: Henry won the potato chip auction, happily ate the entire bag, and passed out in a chair, clutching the bag. Mmmm, sourcream and onion.

Subtext: Speaking of closing ranks towards the outside, this also applies to this strike. It would be bad PR for the school if anyone outside found out that it happened, so it's better to solve it quietly and discreetly. Vanessa can trust the kids not to snitch. Vincent is also right, the parents, who are paying the tuition fees, are on their side.

Subtext: Felice can't be seen talking to Sara, so she checks that the coast is clear, and then drags Sara into a private bathroom to have their conversation.

Subtext: Likewise, Sara was probably Felice's first real friend.

Subtext: Nice little foreshadowing. I would have loved seeing Simon's drawing though!

Subtext: Well, he could have just made his social media private, but the show has to maximize the drama, so here we are, piling on more examples of how Simon is losing himself to the monarchy, that maybe he can't reconcile the conflict.

Subtext: Erik spent three years living at Hillerska, of course he wouldn't have told his then twelve year old kid brother about all the shit going on at the school. August spent an entire year living with Erik at the school, seeing what went on first hand, so of course he knows a side of Erik that Wilhelm doesn't.

Subtext: August has been trying to keep his mouth shut and avoid Wilhelm, but since they have yet another fight, he decides to drop the bomb about Erik to hurt Wilhelm.

Subtext: Again, the culture is in the walls. This is not something that only Erik's class did, once. It's probably been happening to all the boys for decades. It happened to the current second-year students, it happened to Erik, and lots of students before him who kept this shitty initiation tradition going.

Culture: Let's talk about the gay porn hazing a bit more. To me, this is an urban legend. I heard about it when I was a teenager back in the 90's, but I don't personally know anyone it happened to, or anyone who did it to anyone else. It was always hearsay, it happened to a friend of a friend's brother, or a classmate's cousin's friend or something similar, as is typical of urban legends.

Let's also make one thing absolutely clear: It doesn't work. The homophobic idea behind this shit is that if you are forced to watch gay porn and get a boner, you are gay, and if you don't, you're straight. But that is actually not true, erections don't work that way, and the fear of being found out is quite the boner killer. Also, what if you like guys, but the guys in the porno aren't your type? There's just so many ignorant misconceptions behind this idea.

I've also seen a lot of fan comments that keep playing into this ignorance; that the only reason Nils decided to stop the tradition was because he obviously failed it. Or that the only reason August is against it is because he failed, and the only reason he failed is because he's secretly not straight. No. Remember that the test doesn't work. Nils probably passed, despite actually being gay. August might have failed, despite being completely straight. Regardless of what happened, they both found it humiliating, and that is why they made a pact to stop it.

#young royals #young royals subtext #young royals analysis #young royals season 3

198 notes · View notes