#ps yes the glasses were in fact a last second decision

[evilsartcorner]

[goldnn-harry]

i’ve been wanting to write this for a while, so lets see how it turns out:)

(ps, harry is 18 and y/n is 17)

i haven't forgotten about your guys' requests! i'm trying to get to them i promise, but i have a lot right now and i also have tons of school! however i really love all of them, i love what you guys come up with

y/n looked over to her window when she started hearing tapping noises coming from it. expecting to see a bird, she frowned when she didn't see anything. hesitantly, she walked to her window, opened it and looked down.

“oh my god, harry?!” she whisper-yelled.

harry grinned at her, tiny rocks in his hands, and motioned for her to come out.

“no no, no way. you need to go home harry, my mom will kill you.”

“she's sleeping, isn't she? besides, that's not very christian of her,” he grinned.

y/n’s mom was a very christian woman. this meant she absolutely hated the idea of boyfriends. especially harry. with his tattoos, and slightly long hair, y/n’s  mother couldn’t hate him more.

y/n had been very clear with the fact that she didn't care what her mother thought and that she would continue to date harry as she pleased, because it was her decision and not her mother’s. that didn't mean that she hated harry any less though. and if she saw harry, right there, outside her daughter’s window at 11pm at night she would absolutely lose it.

“yes harry, she is sleeping but she could wake up you know.”

“come on love, just put pillows under your blanket and jump down. she won't wake up,” harry said. he knew she wanted to come, he wouldn't force her if she didn't.

y/n chewed on her lip. she wanted nothing more than to jump down and escape with harry for the night, but the consequences if her mother found out would be terrible. 

“we’ll be back by 2, right?”

“we can even make it 1 if you’d like.” harry smiled.

she smiled nervously at him. “fine, give me a second.”

her heart was beating ridiculously quickly, but she knew this was worth it. yes her mother would be livid if she found out, but y/n knew she couldn't let what's left of her teenage years go to waste because of what her mother would think. many teens sneak out, and she wanted to be a part of them.

she disappeared out of harry’s eyesight as she changed into some slightly more presentable clothing. she grabbed her phone and peered down the window again.

“you'll catch me?”

“of course i will.”

y/n nodded, not giving it much thought before she jumped out. she squeezed her eyes shut and braced for a hard impact, but all she felt was harry’s soft chest.

“told you i’d catch you.” he whispered and kissed her. 

y/n blushed, still getting flustered by something as small as a kiss even after 2 years with harry.

he set her down and took her hand. 

“where are we going?” she asked. 

harry motioned to the small bag on his shoulder, “i thought we could go stargazing.”

“that sounds perfect.”

the couple walked in silence for a few minutes until they reached the field they'd grown accustomed to. they walked over to the tree they always sat by and set their things down. 

harry pulled out a thin sheet from his backpack and laid it across the soft grass.

“look,” y/n said softly, “it’s still there.” she lightly touched the tree, right where their initials were carved. they'd done it on their one year anniversary. “i thought it'd would've disappeared by now.”

“ ‘course it didn't, it was there last week.” harry smiled and kissed her cheek. “come on, lets lay.”

he took her hand and laid down, pulling on her hand slightly to get her to do the same. she smiled and did what he wanted.

harry pulled her close, kissing her temple as he did so.

“look, the big dipper.” she pointed at the sky, looking over at harry to make sure he was seeing it.

“orion,” he said as he pointed to another one.

“they’re all so beautiful,” she said after they'd named all the constellations they could find.

“yes they are.” 

y/n looked over at harry, expecting him to be looking at the sky, but instead he was looking at her. 

harry leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “you’re so beautiful y/n.” he whispered. he didn't let her respond, pressing another kiss to her mouth this time.

“i love you,” he said between kisses.

“i love you too.” she mumbled.

harry elevated himself slightly by propping his head up his arm, giving him a better angle to kiss her.

soft kisses soon turned into a makeout session, harry on top of y/n, his hands cradling her face.

after a couple minutes, he pulled away. “mm- what's wrong?” she asked.

he layed back down by her and turned to his side, brushing the hair out of her flushed face.

“i’m not having sex with you in a field, my love.”

y/n’s eyes widened. truth is, her and harry had had sex before. it was the morning after their one year anniversary. y/n had spent the night over at harry’s house (she told her mom she was sleeping over at a friend’s) and it sort of just happened. despite both of them enjoying it, they had agreed to not do it again. they didn't want to risk getting pregnant, and besides, they wouldn't even have time to do it, since they barely hung out in a setting where sex could be possible. they usually had very few, short dates, because of y/n having to sneak around.

so when harry said that, it'd surprised her. 

“did you really think that'd lead to sex?”

“i don't know, it.. felt like it was going to.”

she swallowed, “do you want to have sex?” y/n remembered enjoying it very well, and she remembered how amazing it was, but she also remembered how scared she was for the next month, wondering if some how she had gotten pregnant. 

they were very careful and used protection, but things happened, and with her luck she’d probably end up getting pregnant. but luckily, she didn't.

harry sighed. “of course i do. i want to do everything with you. but, i know why we never did it again, and i’m okay with that.”

“oh. so you're not mad at me or anything right? for not having sex with you?”

“no darling, of course not.” he hesitated, choosing his next words carefully. “but do you really want to live like this all the time? missing out on things and having to sneak around, all because of your mother?” his words were soft, caring and tender. as if he spoke any harsher, glass would break.

y/n looked away, “no.. i turn 18 in a couple months. i’ll be able to do whatever i want then.”

“baby, do you really think that when you turn 18 your mom will let you do what you want?” 

“i- yes. i’ll be an adult.”

“yes, you will be. but you'll be an adult living under her roof.”

she swallowed. she hadn't thought of that. she just figured that when she  turned 18 her mother would have to let her do what she wanted. but harry was right. as long as she lived under her roof, her mother would have control over her.

“i don't know harry.” she said weakly.

“i hate that you have to go through this.”

“it’s not your fault.”

“it’s still not fair, y/n. your mom is a monster that doesn’t care about you.”

harry’s words were harsh, but they were right.

she turned on her side and looked at him. “i know h,” she said softly.

he sighed. “lets just enjoy the night.”

“i agree,” she murmured and cuddled closer to his side.

[jonahlovescoffee]

Hi! I hope you are well : ) So, I was trying to think of an idea and then I saw the title on your blog - loving can hurt sometimes- and that kind of gave me an idea...Maybe one of the wdw boys is in a relationship with the reader, y/n, and they hit a rough patch and things are kind of hanging on a thread. Neither of them know whether it's going to work out. Hope this inspires you! I'll send some more if I can think of something.

Grey | J.M.

a/n: @randomlimelightxxx thanks so much for sending in an ask <33333 and I’m sorry for replying to it this late :( i love love love your idea!!! but i hope u don’t mind if i make it a little sadder (◐‿◑) whoops. 

(ps: this turned out worse than i hoped but i do hope you like it)

summary: a happy ending isn’t always guaranteed, even when you love someone with every fibre of your being, because life isn’t a fairytale.

warnings: angst

word count: 2517

“i can’t believe i let you go.”

Jonah doesn’t know for sure how long he has been staring at the framed photograph that has been hanging on the living room wall for as long as he can remember. It was taken during one of the few 4th of July celebrations that you both had celebrated together. In the picture, your smile was brighter than ever, even brighter than the fireworks that were bursting through the dark night behind you, fiery blooms amongst the stars. He had an arm around your shoulders, his green orbs looking at you lovingly as you took the selfie.

Both of you seemed so happy back then—something you both hadn’t felt in a long time, even before your dramatic fallout. You were going strong, weren’t you? Both of you used to be the poster children of the perfect couple — you had each other backs and lifted each other up when the going got tough, which led you to believe that nothing could ever come between the two of you.

But life did. When his career started to blow up, your relationship with him did too.

Every time he closes his eyes; the vivid memory of the horrible night months ago starts to play before him like a movie.

#

“Jonah Marais Roth Frantzich, have you been drinking again?” You tore your eyes away from the TV and directed it towards him instead when you heard the sound of the door opening then closing, followed by the rattling of keys as he threw it into the small box beside the door. The stench of alcohol filled your apartment almost immediately, indicating that he had a heavy intake of whatever alcoholic drink he consumed at the party.

He didn’t answer, or even bat an eye at you as he made his way into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Your lips pressed into a thin line as your blood boiled upon being ignored by him. You glanced at the clock. It was nearly 3am. This was the latest he had ever been home after attending a party, which was something he had been doing almost every day lately.

You hated his new habit of getting absolutely wrecked after every party, and he knew that too. He also knew that you hated him getting too friendly with the alluring LA models that were up to no good, as much as you hated him spending most of his time on his job, resulting with him neglecting you far too often for your liking, until you guys were basically nothing more than strangers living under the same roof.

He knew many things, but he never cared, because those were the requirements of his job — to constantly socialize and make music — so he thought that you’ll understand but from the look of the annoyed scowl on your face, that didn’t seem to be the case tonight.

“Jonah, answer me,” you ordered sternly from where you sat on the couch in the living room.

He didn’t know whether if it’s the fault of the alcohol that was coursing through his veins or the fact that both of you hadn’t really talked in days (maybe months) had started to drive him over the edge, but he found your displeasure oddly infuriating, although he knew you were merely looking out for him.

You are his girlfriend, not his fucking mother. 

“Yes, not that it’s any of your business,” he seethed and you seemed taken aback by his reply. At least that’ll shut you up for now.

He placed the cup into the sink with a greater force than he intended before leaving the kitchen to head towards the master bedroom, trying his best to ignore your accusing glare that was still boring into his back and hold back the rest of the harsh words that was threatening to spill out of his mouth.

He knew he was drunk and he didn’t want to say anything that he would regret later in the morning so staying silent was currently the best option. Everything would return to normal the next day once you forgot about this, like you always had for the past few weeks. The tension would be gone and you both would return to playing the role of a lovey-dovey couple that, unbeknownst to others, barely talked in what felt like forever.

But you had other plans. You weren’t letting this matter go this easily. This had been going on for too long. You had enough of his immature behaviour that was gradually driving a wedge between the two of you. You wanted -- no, needed -- this to stop right now, for his own good and yours.

You wanted the old Jonah back -- the Jonah who’d walk to the ends of the world for you, who’d join you in bed at night to ask about your day and who’d put you as his first priority. You walked briskly towards him and captured his wrist in your hand.

“I’m your girlfriend, Jonah, and I have the right to hold you accountable for your dumb actions,” you purposely emphasized on the three words that you knew would get on his nerves. You wanted him to talk, to explain why he was suddenly so obsessed with getting drunk. Was he stressed? Was something bothering him? 

Once again, you received no answer from him.

“Drinking is bad for your health, Jonah,” you softened your tone, just by a little. “And you barely get enough sleep recently, it’s--”

“Just shut up for once, can you?” He jerked your hand away. “Always ‘Jonah don’t do this’, ‘Jonah don’t do that’ like I am some kind of dumb baby that needs help. Just so you know, I’m a grown man who is perfectly capable of making my own decisions, mind you.”

This was the first time Jonah had ever raised his voice at you. You tried not to let his words get to you, you tried to convince yourself that it was the alcohol talking for him but tears ended up welling up in your eyes anyways. You held them back as you continued to speak. 

“I was just trying to advise—”

“I said shut the fuck up! Even if I do need help, I won’t be asking it from the likes of you!” Before you could react, the glass vase that was once placed beside the TV went flying against the wall behind you, shattering into a million pieces.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Jonah?” You cried out, your hands fisting the front material of his shirt. “What the heck was that for?”

“Get off me, you psycho!” he pried your hands off him and pushed you away forcefully, making you stumble backwards and fall to the ground due to your loss of footing.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably now. “You’ve changed. The old Jonah will never do this to me,” you stood up, wiping off your tears with the back of your hand.

“Maybe it’s because you don’t know me well enough.”

“You know what?” You were jabbing your finger on his chest. “If this is the real you, maybe I shouldn’t have dated you in the first place,” you shouted at him.

“Fine, don’t date me then! Maybe I finally can live a lot more freely without your constant nagging!”

Your breathing stopped for a moment and you swore his did too. Silence ensued, the only sound being the tv that you forgot to turn off before the fight.

Shit. He said too much.

When you finally came back to your senses, you pushed pass him to make your way into the bedroom, pulling out your luggage and set it open on the bed.

“You should’ve told me earlier that you didn’t want me in your life,” you said breathlessly as you proceeded to dump all your clothes into your luggage before slamming it shut, ignoring his pleas for you to stop.

“No, baby, I don’t mean what I said,” he grabbed your arm and you flinched at his touch. That was how he knew he messed up. Badly. “Let’s just forget—”

“I’m so done with always sweeping our problems under the carpet and pretend like they don’t exist, Jonah!” You yelled frustratedly. “Let me ask you, when was the last time we had a heart-to-heart talk, Jonah? When was the last time we had a peaceful meal together without arguing? When was the last time we actually spent quality time together?”

He couldn’t answer any of your questions.

“Can’t you see it? We haven’t been a couple for quite a while now,” you explained, pulling your closed luggage out of the room towards the front door, not forgetting to pick up your purse along the way. “What happened just now was just one more sign that we,” you gestured between the both of you, “are not meant for each other so maybe it’s for the best if we break up.”

“No, please, no,” he fell to his knees before you, his hands moving to grasp your arm. “Don’t go. I’m sorry. Please.”

“I’m not wasting any second more of my life with you,” you spat mercilessly in his face. “Now let go.”

“No, please, stay with me, baby,” he continued to beg, the grip on your hand unfaltering.

“I’m sorry,” you said and felt his grip loosen at the two simple words. He knew there was no point in holding on once you already made up your mind. “Goodbye, Jonah.”

You yanked your arm away and walked out the door, not looking back, leaving a distressed male behind, in tears.

Yes, Jonah remembers everything from that night, especially the slam of the door behind you as you walked out of his apartment and his life, forever.

And he is the one to blame.

#

Fast forward to the present, he misses you so much that he is starting to lose his mind.

He thinks about you so often that sometimes he forgets that you aren’t his anymore. He still finds himself reaching out to what used to be your side of the bed the first thing in the morning, only to find it cold and empty; he still looks forward to coming home from work every day to run into your arms that used to be his safe haven, only to be reminded by his quiet house that your laughter, your kisses, your touches are luxuries that he can no longer afford, no matter how wealthy he is.

You gave him a chance—scratch that, you have kind-heartedly given him countless chances in the past for him to make up for his mistakes, to prove to you that loving him was worth all the suffering, but all he did was disappoint you over and over again by choosing to walk away from you when his career was at stake.

It wasn’t until you were gone that he noticed all those valuable chances that have unknowingly passed him by.

He runs a hand through his hair and heaves a sigh, throwing his head back so that he is mindlessly staring at the ceiling.

He was cowardly fool, for putting his needs above the person who he swore to love till the end of time, for giving up when he should’ve fought a little harder to preserve what’s left of their love, for doing nothing as the distance between them grew by leaps and bounds until you eventually slipped out of his grasp into nothingness.

Most importantly, he was the world’s biggest idiot to ever think that he can live without you.

He knows that he should stop missing you; he knows that he should forget the past, or at least lock all the fond memories he had built with you into a box and shove it into the darkest, deepest corners of his mind, not to be opened ever again; he knows that he should move on, like you already did.

But “I know” and “I can” are two completely different things. Yes, he is terribly exhausted from holding onto the past, holding onto you, even as he feels the remaining shred of hope that you might one day return to him slowly diminish as days passed but at the same time, he is still too in love to let you go.

Therefore, for what seems like the thousandth time that month, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, and dials your number that is still marked as favourites in his contact list. As expected, the call goes to voicemail right away, after your recorded voice says, “Sorry, I can’t come to the phone at the moment but feel free to leave a message instead!” in a cheerful tone, as if you are mocking him for not being able to talk with you like he used to anymore.

After the beep, Jonah hesitates a moment before opening his mouth to speak, but no words escape. He has no idea where to start. He knows a simple ‘sorry’ isn’t going to fix everything, for the pain you had endured because of him is definitely not worth to be forgiven with a simple two-syllable-word. He contemplates if he should end the call, like what he has done for the past thousand times.

No, he has spent too much time dwelling in his misery without making any effort to win you back It’s about time he at least tries to start a proper conversation with you because even if you don’t reciprocate his feelings, you still deserve an apology from him.

“Hi,” he breathed nervously. “How are you? I know I should not be trying to contact you after what I did to you that night but,”

A pause.

“It’s not the same here without you, y/n. I miss your cooking, your terrible singing voice, your hilarious pep talks – hell, I even miss your long boring lectures whenever I forgot to wash the dishes,” he smiles a little at the memory.

“And I’m sorry, I really am, for ruining everything. I know it’s not enough but it’s true. Not a day passes where I don’t regret what I did to you that night and all the mistakes that I’ve made before that.”

“Please baby, give me one more chance to make it right. Just one more, please. Come back, be here with me because,” another pause.

He searches his brain for the right words to say, rubbing his temples with his fingers as his mind whirs.

Because of you, his life used to be filled with endless love and laughter. Your love was like the warm daylight, illuminating his world in golden, chasing away all the darkness. You painted his life with the vibrant colors of the rainbow whereas now that you’re gone, everyday it rains, the previous sunshine you provided long gone. He should’ve never let you go. With a swipe of his tongue over his trembling dry lips, he finishes his sentence before he decides to chicken out.

“Because I still love you. Without you, now everything’s grey.”

[soliverse]

baby don’t like it - q.kn

pairing: royal au duke!kun x princess!reader ft my best girl, Irene of Red Velvet

genre: angst, much muuuch stronger than the last one

warnings: mentions of violence, cheating, cussing, alcohol consumption (again, nothing too explicit, just giving you a bit of a heads up.

word count: 3171

Prompts:

“Keep the change, ya filthy animal.” - Home Alone (weird choice, I know)

“Baby, whether rain or shine, naughty or nice. I'm by your side.” - Ariana Grande (Not Just On Christmas)

ps: did I just write another angst for another Christmas special?

Yes. Yes, I did.

Baby Don’t Like It is a part of my Walking in a Winter Wonderland Collab with @suh-insane​ and @neocitybynight​. Once again, this is one of my first collabs and I am thankful for the approachable anons that let me join this event.

You can check the Walking In A Winter Wonderland event and the works of my fellow NCT writers over here!

networks: @nctcreations​ @kdiarynet @kpopscape

Men.

You’ve always hated them.

You’ve hated how your father treated your mother. You’ve hated how you’re treated all your life just because you’re not born as a man. You've always hated how they controlled every single decision in your life. You've hated how you're forced to marry someone you don't love for "the sake of our people".

But out of all the men that you hated; it was the one right in front of you.

As your assistants helped you get dressed, your husband was just sitting there on his phone, looking all nice and fine and smiling from ear to ear. He looked divine, suit garbed in black and red, making him look almost ethereal. Strands of his dark hair falls into his forehead, framing his perfect face even more. At the same time, he decided to wear his circular glasses, something that he did if he didn’t want to use his contact lenses.

Overall, his outfit made him look like one of those princes from those fairytale books that you had as a kid.

You can't help but roll your eyes, but you can't say whether it's from your assistants eyeing Kun or that he just HAD to be there to see you get dressed. After hours of getting ready, they placed a heavy tiara on your head as a finishing touch.

You stood up from your seat and twirled, making sure that everything looked perfect. You walked towards Kun and did a little wave to get his attention away from his phone. It didn’t work, so you walked closer to the couch and tapped his leg. This time, he shot up a look in your direction, still smiling.

“Oh hey. You good to go?”

You nodded as an answer. The two of you then made your way into your car, him being the driver. The car ride was eerily quiet. None can be heard except for other vehicles passing by and funky Christmas songs blasting from people outside. Well, there isn’t that much to talk about. You’ve spent every hour with each other that you feel like there’s more to share.

This is probably the reason why he suggested the event in the first place. Social events aren't really your thing, but at least it’s better than to stay at home and celebrate Christmas in silence. Or worse, spend it at your parents' mansion.

“Hey baby, cheer up a little.”

He was the first one to break the silence.

“Thank you for coming with me to the event. It means a lot to me.”

His voice was soft, just like it had always been whenever he’s talking to you. He moves closer from the other side of the and took your hand, squeezing it tightly. You never said anything. You just smiled at him in return, not really knowing what to say. It stayed that way until you reached the venue.

It was already a bit late at night and the whole city glistened from the twinkling lights that adorned it. The snow slowly falling down made your entrance to the party even more magical.

The car door has opened and cameras started flashing left and right. Dozens of paparazzi surrounded the area while the guards tried their best to keep them out. Kun made a point to wave to everyone, a move that everyone loved. You tried to force a smile as he wrapped his arms around your hips, feeling the silky fabric of the dress that you’re wearing.

Everyone greeted him, of course. His cheery self was acknowledged by everyone around him. Meanwhile, you just politely bowed at everyone else, forcing an awkward smile whenever someone tried to make interactions. They were probably bummed up that YOU had to go with, though. After all, Kun was the life of the party. The darling of the crowd. The Diana to your Charles.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome our honorable guests for tonight. The main benefactor of Little Angels’ Children Hospital and the people behind this lovely event, Duke Kun and Her Highness Princess Y/N of the Northernshore.”

The crowd applauded as you made your way into the grand halls and took your place in the seat designated for the both you. It was a table that was isolated from everyone else, so the two of you are just stuck together. Sitting there was uncomfortable to say the least. You knew he wanted to mingle with people, but being the introvert that you are, he can’t leave you alone.

The program proceeded as usual. The children from the hospital sang some carols which touched everyone’s hearts. One of the cute little girls gave you a small figurine that she made. You gave her a warm hug before letting her join the other children on the stage. Kun, on the other hand, was trying his best to focus on the gala.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Not at all.” He chuckled awkwardly, sneaking peeking on his phone from time to time. You didn’t pay him that much attention and shifted your focus back to the kids. The host announced that dinner will be served soon and the program will resume right after. You felt the need to go to the bathroom and so you tugged on his jacket to get his attention. Some Christmas carol was playing overhead and so he leaned down to hear what you had to say.

“Excuse me for a second. I need to powder my nose.”

You shyly whispered in his ear. He again flashes a sweet smile before nodding. Other people are so standing up from their seats, taking this opportunity to mingle with other people while dinner is being prepared. The guards offered to go with you but you declined and insisted that they stayed with Kun. From far away, you can see a bunch of people enthusiastically going to his direction. You just sighed as you walked across the crowd of people with your head down.

As you’ve finally reached the bathroom, the first thing you did was lock the stall and breathe. You rested your head at the door for a few seconds before finally doing your business. You’ve heard some people entered the bathroom. Your ears perked up to listen at their conversation. To your relief, none of them talked about you. They didn’t take long inside, probably just touched up, and left the bathroom.

Making sure that no one is inside, you opened the door and proceeded to look at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t that bad. Your red silky dress complimented your body and skin well. There are strands of your hair cascading from your messy bun, but that just added to your look. You look fine. It’s just that in everything that you say and do, everything pales in comparison to your husband. Opening the sink, you washed your hands and tried to snap out of Grinch mode. After all, it’s almost Christmas. You should be having fun.

///

After leaving the bathroom, this time with a much jollier attitude, you saw Kun sitting in the same table. This time, he was with a woman. A woman that you knew pretty well.

Minji used to be your bestfriend during highschool. She was the only one kind enough to talk to you and actually get to know you as a person. Unfortunately, things changed just as soon as you reached college. Kun was a junior at that time and he became the guide that toured the freshmen throughout the university. Minji has been whipped ever since and Kun returned the favor.

Her family aren’t a part of the royals, which meant they can’t be together. A fact that had always pained you whenever you think about it. A part of you still felt guilty upon breaking the former couple apart. You never had the guts to faced Minji and so you made your way towards the open bar. Maybe some drinks will help you clear your head.

Trying to hide from other people and the guards, you picked a seat just right at the farthest corner of the open bar. You sat at one of the counters and ordered whatever drink that can get you drunk the fastest. You downed the drink fast, not even minding the harsh taste that it leaves as soon as it hits your tastebuds.

A voice suddenly interrupted your drinking session. You tried to hide your face to avoid being recognized, but the woman still sat down right next to you.

“A princess shouldn’t be drinking like that.”

“Excuse me?”

You finally turned around, casually flashing a playful smile at you. Your eyes grew wider at the sudden realization of who she is.

“Irene! It’s been ages!”

You almost spilled your drink to the floor as you stood up to hug one of your old college pals.

“It’s been forever, and yet you still act like a royal novice.”

The lass never changed. She was still her snobby self, a trait that you used to hate before you came to realize that that’s just her quirk.

The two of you are almost squealing before finally letting go of each other. You sat back down excitedly before pouring yourself another drink.

“Okay. Why are you here?”

“Remember Suho? The doctor? Well, he’s thinking doing business with the hospital. He’s making it some sort of an extension.”

"I still couldn’t believe that you got married." You said while chuckling. The old Irene had always had this intimidating aura to her that no boy ever dared to talk to her. It’s something that the two of you had in common.

"I could say the same about you."

Irene snickered as she motioned the bartender to bring more drinks for the two of you.  She casually grabbed her wine glass, being the classy lady that she is, and took a bit of a sip at her sparkling champagne, eyeing you shadily like there’s something she’s trying to tell you.

“I see that your husband is having fun without you.”

You just sighed as a response.

“Royals are for royals, Y/N. Minji isn’t born with a title.That is not your fault. Keep your head high for fuck’s sake. You’re THE Princess.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, preparing to talk her down to filth. However, her phone lit up from a phone call that she's receiving.

"I'm gonna have to leave you for a sec. It's Suhyun's babysitter."

She gave an apologetic smile before grabbing her purse from the counter and finishing the last of her drink.

"I’ll be back in a moment.”

She tossed a wink at your direction before you’re left alone in the bar once again. You started drinking once again when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Thinking it was Irene, you turned around and was about to talk smack to her. Instead, it was your husband. He grabbed you by your wrist and took you to an empty storage room nearby.

“The guards have been looking for you everywhere.”

His voice was low, but you can tell that he’s incredibly pissed.

"I just needed a drink to lighten myself up. Figured you need some time to hang out with your colleagues without your boring wife tagging along."

“You’re glad that I found you first. What would the media say if they saw the princess drinking like she’s in a college frat party?”

You just rolled your eyes at him and tried to free your hand from his tightening grip.

“I want to go home.”

“You are not going home in the middle of the event!”

You scoffed.

“Yes, I can. I’m the Princess. Just tell them I feel sick or something.”

You finally managed to escape his grasp and you walked out of the storage room by yourself and walked back into the. Sure enough, you used your acting lessons to feign an illness. The guards took charge immediately and escorted you back to the car. It caused a bit of a scene, so it didn’t take long before Irene found you. She whispered something in your ear and you just nodded.

“Change of plans boys. I’m going to we’re going to the hospital.”

///

"Wakey-wakey…”

Kun felt a sudden surge of pain running through his body. His vision was blurry, pupil still adjusting to the light blaring through his face. Despite this, he can definitely see one thing. It was a silhouette of a woman.

"Ugh… Who are you?"

Moans and groans escaped his busted lips, the taste of metal fills his mouth. Not only was his mouth filled with his own blood, he was struggling to talk because of the dryness in his throat. He tried to move but his body felt sore. His arms and feet were tied up to this chair, making it impossible for him to get up.

The last thing that he remembered is that he is on a car ride somewhere, until his own guards pointed their guns at him.

The woman just laughed as a response. She walked towards him, dragging something heavy behind her. The screeching sound coming from the friction of the floor and metal stings in his ear.

Suddenly, he felt a hand run up to his shoulder into his neck making all of the hair in his body stand up. He had never felt more scared in his life. He felt her face lean over and whispered something to his ear.

"You know very well who I am Kun."

"Irene…"

The woman laughed once again. It sounded darker and more maniacal than earlier.

"I'm glad you remembered you my name after all these years. However, I'm afraid I’d have to cut this reunion short."

Just as she stood up, another silhouette appeared from the dark. The tapping of the back of her heels filled echoed across the hospital room, completely stealing your attention from Irene.

This time, he's certain about who it is.

"When you said that you'll make my problems disappear, this isn't what I had in mind."

You took the coat off of your body, letting in fall to the floor. He was about to beg you to release him, but he noticed something.

You had that dangerous look in you. Your blank cold stare even scarier than Irene's. The typical shy demeanor was dropped and instead replaced by those of predator. Someone that wants to eat him alive and make him disappear in the face of the Earth.

"I had a little fun with him already, if you don't mind.”

Irene walked towards your direction, smiling from ear to ear seeing her old friend back like this.

“I’m afraid I have to leave you here darling. Suhyun and her father is probably looking for mommy right now. Call me when you need me.” She gave you a delicate peck on your cheek before walking away from the room.

Now, the two of you are left alone. Silence once again peeks in as the two of you just stared at each other. Even up until now, that never changed.

This time, you’re the first one to speak up.

“You’re probably wondering why you’re in this situation.”

You took one of the seats and dragged it just a few meters in front of him. You sat down, leaned back while your arms and legs are crossed.

“I know about the affair between you and Minji.”

“Baby, please. It’s nothing...”

He used his sweet voice again, but to you it sounded more like teeth-rotting sugar. That sickly sweet taste that made you want to gag.

“Oh, stop the bullshit. I know about ALL of the affairs.”

You finally stood up from your seat and held your right hand up in the air.

“Let’s see. There’s Rosie, Jessica, Heather…” You spouted more names, taking down a finger every time you mentioned one. Kun is now looking even more uncomfortable. This time, it was his turn to look down, hiding the guilt-ridden expression of his face. Your finger touched his chin, tipping his face up in your direction.

“Wanna know how I knew?”

You poked your tongue in your cheeks and rolled your eyes before giving him one hard slap on his cheek.

“It’s because of those damn glasses! I can see every lewd picture that they send you, asshole!”

You look down at his direction and you saw tears running down from his face. He was trying his best not to sob because his own mouth betrayed him.

“What, baby? you don’t like being slapped in the face? Isn’t that what you wanted Minji to do to you whenever you’re fucking at the manor when I’m at business trips?”

The last sentence made you choke on your words. The combination of seeing Kun crying and the recollection of memories made you a bit soft. Your legs shook, making you kneel down on the ground and sob like a little girl when someone had taken her toys away from her.

“Why did it have to be Minji?”

“I-I’m sorry Y/N. Please… Let me fix this.”

You wiped you tears away just as you dropped this bombshell.

“Why did it have to be her? My first love?”

Picking yourself from the floor, you went back to where your discarded coat is. You wiped your tears out with the sleeves of the coat while you rummaged through its pockets.

“I can’t stand it. Even when you married me, she ‘s still stupidly in love with you.”

“W-wait… What do you mean?”

“Minji used to be my pretty little angel. You just had to turn her into your slutty mistress, don’t you?”

You felt something hard on your right pocket. It was the gun that Irene left you earlier at the party. Right beside it was your phone, blowing up with notifications of people greeting you a Merry Christmas as the clock just turned 12:00 a few minutes ago.

“It’s a sad thing that this will be our last Christmas together.”

You said once again, finally calmed down from the tears that you have just shed a few moments ago. Kun was now shouting at his seat, finally aware of what you’re about to do.

“You are not gonna get away with this!”

“Oh. But I will…”

You smirked at him once again.

“If I killed you right now, Irene and his men would take care of your body and discard it without anyone noticing. They do it all the time. If people suspect that I did something to you, I can just say that I went to the hospital to get treated. They have logs and cameras over here to back up my claims.”

You cocked the gun in your hands and started pointing it to his temples.

“..And as for you baby, text records show that you’re about to run away with Minji tonight. All of your other secrets will be exposed and people will finally see what you really are…”

You took a deep breathe before mustering up the courage to pull the trigger.

“Merry Christmas baby. I’m sure they’d appreciate charity events in hell.”

[writerwrites]

Had Spoke, Had Woke

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x named!Reader

Summary: You’re a new waitress at a famous restaurant in New York City and you’re still trying to get your footing. Little do you know, when the hostess seats a single male patron in your section of tables it’s a bit of hazing. Notorious lothario, Ransom Drysdale, is a regular. Will you end up as another notch on his bedpost?

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Sexy flirting if you squint, but no written sex scene. Mentions of boss’ voyeurism kink and implies Ransom might have an exhibition kink... again, that’s not written in here. Language. Cliffhanger?

A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is the Week 2 prompt to the Optimistic Captain Donut Challenge created by @captainchrisbaby​ @captain-a-rogerss​​​ , @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​​​ , and @donutloverxo​​​ … The Week 2 Prompt will be in bold in the story. PS. Jammies!

Getting a job at the hot new Italian restaurant in Boston felt like pure luck. Aaliyah had no experience, few recommendations, and an odd availability because, in her senior year of college, she had an internship on top of her classes. Her life was a delicate balance of maintaining high grades to appease the donors of her scholarships, presenting well at her internship in hopes of a foot in the door, and working as often as possible to keep a roof over her head after graduation. That plucky attitude worked well, quickly getting Aaliyah into the position of a waitress, but the attention had consequences.

When the tall, broad shouldered blonde came in for the third Thursday night in a row, she’d picked up the hint that all of the staff had an opinion about the guy. Assuming that he hadn’t been placed in her section because the manager didn’t want a regular having a meal spilled on him, Aaliyah went about her own business, no time to engage in the whispers every time he came in. The decision to keep out of the restaurant gossip made her few friends and in a lush restaurant social climbing was a key focus of the menu. With confident strides, Aaliyah maneuvered through the bustling restaurant taking orders and slinging them back. Then her gaze landed on the only table left in her section, a booth that could have sat four, now occupied by the attractive blonde that never seemed to be in short supply of cable knit sweaters.

Chewing her lip, she swallowed down her options. First, she could go back to the floor manager and verify it wasn’t a mistake. Not the best choice but the man could make it out unscathed with a more experienced waitress. Second, she could play it off to the best of her ability and show the managers and staff that she was determined to do her job well. It didn’t seem like much of a choice and when his eyes landed on hers, an impatient squint demanding her to cross the room and assist him, her feet were already making their way to him. “Good evening, I’m --”

Her words were cut off, “I know who you are, Honey.”

The pet name rolled off his tongue like melted butter and Aaliyah shivered. Just as she picked her mouth off the floor and went for her pen to take his order, the man carried on again. “I’ll have the pan-seared halibut.”

Unfazed by the cutoff it was the pet name that bit and the waitress bit back. “Then you must have mistaken me for the midnight cocktail waitress in the underground. It’s Aaliyah, actually. You have the choice of two sides. I recommend the braised fingerling potatoes with garlic shallots and fresh herbs.”

The man was processing the cheek and Aaliyah’s mouth went dry as he watched her through long lashes, teeth nipping his own tongue. “Fine. Any drink recommendations, since you’re feeling so complimentary.”

She was no sommelier, but she didn’t miss a beat. “We have a sauvignon blanc from New Zealand if you would prefer a fruit note to the herby dinner, or a sauvignon blanc from France that stays with the theme of the meal you’ve chosen.” Aaliyah smiled, proud of herself, like a well studied student at an exam.

“I’ll have it with the Oregon Pinot Gris.” His tone was surprisingly amused, making the young waitress all the more unsettled by his unblinking gaze.

“Yes, Sir.” It was his turn to squirm, though she didn’t notice the way he moved his legs to adjust himself under the table.

Aaliyah turned on her heel and walked away, all too aware of the pair of deep blue eyes still on her. He unashamedly carried on that way through the entire meal, summoning her back now and then for more wine and then a glass of her recommended sauvignon blanc after a couple of bites of his halibut. She didn’t move when she brought it, stubbornly waiting for him to admit he was wrong. A few coworkers stared at her shocked with her behavior. When he brought the wine to his lips she stared at the lingering droplet and his gaze was back on her, tongue lapping it up, some unspoken incantation that it wasn’t just the food he found satisfying. “Sir.” Aaliyah purred with smug confidence and left him to finish his entrée.

When the manager pulled her from the floor by the wrist into the office she thought she was in for it. Instead, he dropped a key into her palm. “Mr. Drysdale will ask you for dessert, Chef will make it, the staff will clean and leave. He’ll take his time and pay in cash. You’ll need to clean up his mess and lock up so that we don’t have to wait on you tonight.”

“You just let him do that?” She scoffed.

“There are few patrons that tip as well as Mr. Drysdale and his family could tear down this block with one bad review. No stunts, just give him what he wants, clean up, and send him on his way. It’ll be a long week for you to know whether you cost us our best customer or not, so don’t.”

It wasn’t harsh, a clean cut and matter of fact plan no different in presentation than the specials on a chalkboard outside the restaurant, but it left Aaliyah with more questions than answers. Her eyes fell to the key, tucking it in her pocket before heading back to the floor to wrap up her other patrons and check on her sweatered guest. “Would you like a dessert tonight, Sir?”

The plate of halibut and vegetables was clean, his wine glass low. “That depends on whether you would like to join me with more of the sauvignon blanc.”

“I’ll bring you the bottle and the tarte aux fraises for dessert?” Her tongue twirled over the French with ease, this time noticing how his hips picked up briefly out of the seat. “If that pairing sounds satisfactory, of course, Sir.”

He gave a nod and Aaliyah walked away with confidence that she had survived the ordeal of having this patron in her section. She came back with the wine, pouring him a glass and leaving the bottle on the table, letting him know that she would be back with his dessert and to wave her down while she helped the other waiters. But, as soon as she was in the back of the building, the hostess caught her eye from the staff locker room. Aaliyah slipped in, opening her own locker to put the key in her bag. It wasn’t until her back was turned and other waiters came in that she heard their bets. While she may not have made out every detail she knew whatever was going to happen wasn’t over.

The second the last whispering voice walked out and the patron’s dessert set gently in front of him, he asked her an unexpected question, “Care to join me?”

Aaliyah had to wonder if this was what the whispering was about, whether or not she’d sit with the guy, share a drink, share dessert, settling on the nagging question: What else did he expect? Careful not to show any sign of weakness or overt interest, she sat across from him, pulling off her apron and busying herself with folding it onto her lap. “I apologize your weekly entertainment has been left to me, Sir. The other waitresses were a bit upset to see the favorite regular placed in the new girl’s section.”

His fork cut through the tarte, popping a bite into his mouth as he watched her and he didn’t speak until he’d washed it down with the wine, pushing the then emptied glass to her. Aaliyah poured and he spoke. “They do this every once in a while. Think about it as… pulling out the weak ones by the root.”

She watched him twirl the fork in the air as he explained his view on the hostess’ decision. There was something wicked in the way he spoke about people, like everyone in service was just a hair above a stray dog in his eyes. Still, as she looked at him, really watching his eyes, she found herself drawn into him. Aaliyah found herself determined though, to do as her boss had asked, to appease him, but she was no stray dog. If anything, she was a feral cat, more likely to take what she wanted than to put up with anyone’s antics. Maybe that’s why she knew how this was going to go. “You weed out the weak ones every Thursday?”

Ransom looked up from his wine glass, but not to Aaliyah. Her eyes left his throat to where his icy blue gaze had moved. She hadn’t really thought about it before, the cameras all around the place. He didn’t speak again for a few more minutes, washing down the last of his dessert. “I’m friends with your boss, we went to college together. I know that he’s probably watching this little dinner in his bed on his laptop.”

Aaliyah poured the rest of his wine into his glass, surprised to not see her hand shaking despite her racing heartbeat, “Do you tell this to all your little weeds?”

“Sure, I’m not a monster. Though I’m sure anyone with more than two brain cells knows there are cameras in here. It’s logical to assume that a waitress that mistreats a customer when their boss isn’t looking should assume the boss is going to look at the cameras to see what really happened.”

“As much as I want to assume everyone I work with is logical…”

The corner of his mouth turning up into a sinister little smirk told Aaliyah more than enough about the man she was entertaining and what he knew about what he was doing. Ransom seemed to be done with the chit chat, throwing back the last of his wine. “The question is are you…”

Aaliyah cut him off, resting her hand on top of his. “You’re going to pay your bill and cross the street so that the camera for outside seating isn’t going to catch me leaving this place with you. While you wait for me to clean up these plates, you can decide: your place or mine. I’m sure if you like the thought of someone watching you fuck a waitress on a restaurant table gets you off then there’s plenty more we can do outside of this place.” She could see the gears turning, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Spank me later for being so bossy, Sir.”

She watched his tongue ghost across his lips and, for a moment, she wondered if she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. That was the problem with feral cats, no one could own them but they still liked their back scratched once in a while. Slipping out of the booth he got up too. His long, broad frame casting a shadow over her and the table. The proximity took Aaliyah’s breath away and she looked up at him, thinking she’d been outplayed, her thoughts already on him taking her on the table, plate and glass smashing onto the floor. Instead he slipped the money into her pocket, a wicked grin on his lips as a whimper passed her lips from the smallest amount of physical contact. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Then don’t make me take longer than I need to.” Aaliyah nodded to the door and he draped his coat over his arm. The second the door clicked behind him a string of curse words passed her lips as she picked up the table and took it to the kitchen, cleaning everything and setting it to dry. A decision had to be made, her dark eyes moving from the front exit to the emergency exit out back. His voice rang in her head and a knot in her stomach told her the repercussions would be severe, be it for standing him up or keeping him waiting. The thought alone told her she wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight. Pressing the restaurant key into her palm she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and took the anxious first steps toward her long evening, she’d endure the consequences tomorrow… Fuck it.

[weraceasone]

Ok so my question about Red Bull is: wtf is going on there?? Do they know what they’re doing or are they just winging it? Max is the main focus and eventhough people think he’s very privileged something tells me that Red Bull is just like his father..? Which is not a good thing.

And then we got the second driver thing. The opinions about this are very much all over the place some people think the second drivers suck and some think the team should focus more on the second drivers so they can improve themselves.

And we also got people who think Red Bull is overall very toxic. I mean from what I have seen... I don’t want to call them toxic perse but I do think there’s something weird going on there and I wish someone would speak up about it. For an example last year with Alex was such a rollercoaster for my feelings so I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for him. Yea he wasn’t having a season but there were also many times I questioned the way Red Bull handeld Max his race in comparison to Alex. Not pitting Alex soon enough or switching Max old car parts with Alex... I don’t know. I might be looking too much into but these are some of the things that stood out to me.

And let’s not even begin with Pierre. I just know that if Red Bull gave him some time he would be doing good enough to stay for another year. They were so mean towards him but being “sweet” to Alex. At least that’s how they were coming off in interviews. Acting like they’re giving Alex everything he needed and giving him a lot of “chances”. I think this is one of the main reasons the media was being harsh towards Alex. Becaus in their eyes Red Bull is helping him while he’s dissappointing the team.

Anyway I don’t know these are my thoughts on Red Bull and I hope you can give your insight on this! xxxxxxxxxxxxxx ✨✨

Ps: did not check for spelling errors and I’m not wearing my glasses so please cut me some slack 😂

hey Anon! I love this ask, so I will answer the questions in detail using paragraphs. I just discussed the culture of Red Bull and what I think of that in a previous ask, so if anyone wants to read that, go here. about Max and his relationship to his dad/Red Bull: from what we’ve heard and seen from Jos, he raised Max in a really hard way. it honestly wouldn’t surprise me if that is why Max finds the treatment of drivers at Red Bull justifiable. I think for Max, nothing will ever compare to how his dad treated him anyway, so he isn’t phased by it. I’m not saying that that makes what Max has gone through and what the RB drivers have had to deal with okay, but I can sort of understand why Max would think like that. this is a very heavy topic to speak about and as I don’t know the ins and outs of the situation, I think this is all I will say about it. something that I do want to touch on a little bit is the word ‘toxic’ and the discussion around it. I’ve seen many people, not just on here but also on Twitter, mention how the word is overused. it’s funny because I actually learned about this psychological phenomenon in class the other day; basically, what happens when you see a word repeated a lot, it will subconsciously start to lose its meaning for you, so you will automatically perceive what the other person is saying as meaningless. I think this is something that has been going on in the F1 community, a lot of people have called Red Bull toxic (whether that is justified or not, everyone should decide for themselves) and it has caused a continuous stream of other people saying they’re tired of hearing it. I personally believe that regardless of what our opinions are on RB, whether we actually believe they should be called toxic or not, I think we should still have an open discussion on what the team is doing and how that affects their drivers. I personally don’t really encourage shutting something down that may help us emancipate the sport.

let’s move on to something else: did Red Bull disadvantage Alex in the races last year? well, the simple answer to me would be: yes. is it that black and white though? no, absolutely not. what we saw happening last year, was that Alex would pit at weird times and even drove with different (worse) equipment than Max did at times. I think it’s a shame that this happened, because it gave a distorted picture of reality, which led us to believe Alex was doing way worse than he actually was. however, I also think something that more people should be aware of, is the fact that putting another driver at a disadvantage in a race isn’t necessarily justified, but it isn’t unjustified either. when one of the drivers is clearly doing better and is expected to get on the podium, maybe even win and is way ahead in the championship, it is a logical decision to sacrifice the other driver’s race a little bit in order to help the driver that’s driving at the front. sure, it isn’t fair, but it is understandable why they would do this, purely from a winner's mentality point of view. apart from that, I think we also have to ask ourselves if we would have the same attitude towards this happening, if it was George being the first driver and Valtteri being the second, for example.

did the media treat Alex in a bad way because they believed RB was helping him, when RB didn’t do that with Pierre? I don’t know. personally, I think that we, as a community, sometimes have a bit of a naïve attitude when it comes to the media. as a communications student who studies the media a lot: what happens a lot in the media is that they kind of create personas. e.g. last year: we had Max, who is the young progidy who will get aggressive when he doesn’t get what he wants and we had Seb, who got let down by Ferrari and there was Lando, who is so funny we might as well forget he’s an F1 driver. when you pay close attention to headlines, to how the media writes about certain drivers, it’s all along the same lines. most articles are written and most questions are asked in a certain way, because it fits a narrative. it sells, because it’s easy to understand. from the audience’ point of view; it’s easy to put into a box, when those boxes are already outlined for you. it’s a very natural thing for humans to subconsciously do and the media are just profiting off of that. this is why I don’t pay that much attention to the F1 media anymore, because they aren’t really being that truthful.

to close this off: the truth lies, like always, in the nuanced grey area. I cannot speak for Max or Alex or anyone who works at Red Bull, so I won’t try to do that. I hope this explains my thoughts well, Anon. I hope you’re having a good day! 🧡

[beca-mitchell]

fool’s gold (1/1)

Summary: Beca finds herself in Colorado bidding on a date with one Chloe Beale. Accidentally, of course. Besides, it’s for charity. Set after PP3.

Word count: 4,216

Rating: T

Read below or on AO3.

Beca finds out about it accidentally. A total accident wherein she did not intend to find out this information. She had been perusing the Bellas groupchat, a chat which she had been slightly too busy to participate in recently, when something caught her eye.

Chloe’s name plus the word “date”. It had taken a few tries and a few shaky swipes of her finger before she figures out that Chloe is participating in some charity event.

Beca hesitates at first, about to type out a message to Chloe right in the groupchat, but she quickly switches over to her private conversation with Chloe and winces when she realizes that her and Chloe haven’t really kept up an ongoing text conversation (and hardly any phone calls) over the past few months.

Beca sighs, flipping back to the groupchat and hoping against hope that somebody else—probably Aubrey or Flo—will ask Chloe about it.

Flo F. What kind of charity is it?

Chloe Every year, the senior vet students run some kind of fundraiser. This year it's for research. In the past, this auction thing has been a huge hit!!

Fat Amy So you’re selling your body? Nothing wrong with that of course.

Chloe No, I’m just…auctioning off a date.

Beca puts her phone down slowly.

Had three and a half years really flown by that quickly? Chloe was almost done with veterinary school and Beca felt like she was still struggling to stay afloat herself.

Well, that was a little untrue. Six Billboard Top 100 hits, a Grammy nomination, a North American tour with an international tour on its way, her first album had gone platinum with the second hot on its heels—

It’s just that Chloe Beale had always seemed so wholly unattainable even with everything that had transpired between them. And Beca wasn’t completely stupid, she knew some of this was her own fault, but life just came at her too fucking fast.

(This being the whole ‘we definitely have feelings for each other but we are also definitely not doing anything about it because one of us is in Colorado and the other is in California sometimes but not always’ thing. God, that always knocked the wind out of Beca. In any case, it had been one weekend of Chloe visiting Los Angeles and a drunken kiss that led to a little more, but nothing really, then an unspoken decision to never speak about it again.

Yeah. This.)

— — — — — 

It takes Beca another two hours to finally message Chloe and she almost has a heart attack when she pulls up their conversation.

Chloe’s last sweet dreams! xo stares back at her accusingly. 

Beca So, a date huh?

She groans. 

Yes, obviously a date. Aubrey already asked for more details an hour ago and the groupchat had long moved on.

Chloe’s reply is nearly instantaneous.

Chloe ?? 

Beca The whole auction thing you know for charity 

Chloe oh haha, yeah. It’ll be nothing. Just some rich student with too much to spend. I don’t have my hopes up or anything.

 But if Chloe could have her hopes for somebody in particular…Beca’s fingers tap anxiously on the edge of her table as she stares back at Chloe’s innocent-enough message.

  Beca oh, well fingers crossed lol

Chloe yeah.

 Beca winces at the one-word response, telling herself not to read too much into it—it doesn’t mean anything, they’re fine, they’re fine, they’re fine—

  Chloe I miss you

She sighs in relief.

Beca miss you too chlo

— — — — —

“You didn’t ask her out yet?” is Theo’s confused inquiry. “Wait, you weren’t dating already?”

“Just—just look up flights to Colorado.”

“I’m not your assistant, just in case you forgot.”

“I know, but Jeff’s on the fritz today and I don’t need another snide remark from him.”

“Snide remark? About what?”

“…about Chloe.”

“Ah.”

 — — — — — 

 Beca isn’t sure how she ends up here, but she ends up doing some casual research about this supposed senior tradition at CSU’s veterinary college and it ends up being more of a thing than Beca originally expects. Like a super serious thing where people buy tickets to attend. 

All proceeds go to the National Animal Disease Center and the Animal Welfare Institute. Tickets at the door will be $55.

Beca stares at the long list of details and scrolls for an embarrassing amount of time until she finds a list of “Auction Participants”. She exhales noisily through her nose when she finds Chloe’s name, surprised to see separate profiles attached to all the students participating.

Chloe Beale, Rising 4th Year Veterinary Student, DVM Candidate

Chloe enjoys singing and morning runs. She will probably fight you over whether the CSU Rams could hold up against the Barden University Knights. In her spare time, she enjoys volunteering at Larimer Humane Society as well as the CSU Zoo. You might have seen her running a few weekend educational programs for children 10 and under.

PS. She’s single!

Beca isn’t sure what grates on her more, the fact that the description doesn’t say anything about how Chloe hums her favorite songs when she gets nervous, or how Chloe’s hair grows at least a shade and a half lighter during the summer, or—or how Chloe can talk at length about nearly anything if she thinks it’s something that another person will find interesting. She is selfless and beautiful inside and out. 

And that last line. Beca’s fist clenches. She isn’t sure why it annoys her so much, but she hates the idea of this auction gimmick even if she knows instinctively that it is all in good fun and Chloe genuinely wouldn’t have consented to it if she didn’t believe in it or trust everybody who would be participating. Still, maybe Beca doesn’t want Chloe to…be single.

Her brow furrows at that last tapered-off thought.

To distract herself, she taps Theo’s number into her phone and waits with bated breath.

“Hello?”

“Did you book the ticket yet?” she asks in lieu of greeting.

She’ll let his amused chuckle slide this once.

 — — — — — 

 So maybe it isn’t really an accident.

She’s in Fort Collins, Colorado, on a beautiful but pretty damn chilly campus. Beca pulls her windbreaker tighter around herself and tugs her scarf up over her mouth and nose. She hasn’t been recognized yet, but she has a suspicion that there have been two young ladies following her, but she can’t be certain.

Though her fame is manageable, it still flares up unexpectedly and at inopportune times.

Like the last time she had visited Chloe on campus and they had spent the weekend eating at Chloe’s favorite spots and drinking cheap wine until they were laughing and leaning heavily against each other. Beca had loved the scent of Chloe’s shampoo as it wafted up from where Chloe had her head pressed against Beca’s shoulder and neck, her giggles tapering off into nothing. Back then, they hadn’t kissed yet—Beca was still recovering from the sting of seeing Chloe kiss Chicago even though it had happened months prior, but nothing had ever transpired.

And for a moment, when Chloe lifted her head off Beca’s shoulder, Beca had thought Chloe was going to kiss her. And she wouldn’t have minded, not at all. It had been something she had been thinking about for so long that Beca’s heart began to pound in anticipation. Then Chloe’s roommate had let herself into the apartment despite Chloe’s insistence they were going to be alone and she had recognized Beca surprisingly quick considering Beca had only one or two viral music videos released at the time. Beca hadn’t been sure, but Chloe had looked supremely disappointed.

Focusing back on the present, Beca gazes at the familiar, yet unfamiliar campus. She had made sure earlier that there hadn’t been a completely strict dress code for the event and opts for a loose wool sweater and nice jeans (a memory of Chloe’s fleeting “those jeans make your ass look good” passes through her mind, but she pays it no mind). She buys a lanyard with the CSU name and mascot emblazoned on it. Just to add to the look.

She finds the student center soon enough. Happy to be out of the chill for a moment, Beca pulls her scarf down but leaves her toque on, keeping it tight over her eyebrows.

“Hey,” a voice calls instantly and Beca jumps because for a moment, it sounds like Chloe. But that would be impossible, she’s barely been there five seconds— “I know you, you’re Chloe’s friend, right?”

Beca turns to see young man, around her age, smiling in a completely nonthreatening manner. She vaguely recognizes him from some of Chloe’s social media posts, but she can’t quite place his name. “Hi,” she says instead.

“Did Chloe invite you to this?” he asks, sounding entirely too amused for Beca’s liking.

“Uh…” Beca isn’t sure what the better answer would be—yes, Chloe invited poor hapless Beca Mitchell to watch her get auctioned off and alternatively the implication that Chloe would need some pull from somebody like Beca which is dumb because despite the crappy dating profile on the website, Chloe needs no help at all; or no, Beca invited herself because she’s there on a mission. “Hm,” she says evasively instead. “Sorry, what was your name again?”

“Benjamin, but you can call me—”

Beca smiles. “Ben,” she finishes. It’s cute how much he reminds her of Benji. “Chloe posts about you a lot.”

“Yeah, we kind of…” he laughs, pushing up his glasses. “Bonded, I guess. She’s been a good friend. Helped set me up with my boyfriend.” He nods his head towards the door. “Want to come sit with us? We’re mainly here for the show and the food. Do you have your ticket?”

Beca blushes but tamps it down as best as she can. “Uh no, I was gonna buy at the door.”

He grins again, but says nothing about that. “Okay, we’ll see you inside. We’re kind of near the back. Turn left when you get in.”

 — — — — — 

 The emcee is fairly decent and Beca cracks a laugh at a few jokes. She has a pretty good view of the stage and she feels comfortable enough sitting near Chloe’s friends. They seem to take a shine to her and teasingly press an auction paddle into her hands.

“For an emergency,” Ben says, mirth in his eyes. And something akin to knowing, as if he knows something Beca doesn’t. She tries to scowl at him, but she misses that opportunity because Chloe is being walked on stage looking like—

“Oh,” Beca murmurs, blushing when she can feel eyes on her. There is no way Chloe can see her in the crowd because she’s sure the spotlight is bright enough based on Chloe’s squint and embarrassed smile. But otherwise, Chloe looks stunning, wearing a pretty blue sundress and white doctor’s coat. Beca blinks back the unexpected surge of emotion—not quite tears, but her eyes do sting a little—that she gets upon seeing Chloe in person for the first time in at least a year.

God, she had gone a whole year without seeing Chloe’s face—without having Chloe’s hands to hold and Chloe’s arms around her.

She never wants to do that again. She never wants to be apart from Chloe for that long, too afraid of her own feelings to push for something she knows Chloe wants as well. She had seen it in Chloe’s eyes over the past decade and more of knowing her. Chloe, her best friend and confidante—the person who most got on her nerves but also knew how to put her back together in more ways than one—

“We’ll start the bidding at fifty dollars! Ten-dollar interval minimum, please and thank you.”

There’s some cheering and laughter in the crowd from a group near the front. Chloe blushes again under the spotlight, but she flips off the group whom Beca assumes consists of people Chloe knows well enough.

“That’s kind of low,” Beca comments.

“You should bid,” Vlad, Ben’s boyfriend, suggests.

“No, I’m just here for support,” Beca replies distractedly as another person bids up to $100. Beca’s fingers tighten momentarily around the paddle before she relaxes and wills herself to scan the crowd as nonchalantly as possible. But before she can really settle down—

“Two hundred!”

It’s arguably the biggest jump Beca has heard over the last few auctions and the murmur that rushes through the crowd indicates that they think it’s something worthwhile as well.

Beca tries not to think about how she made two-hundred dollars in the first minute—probably less—of releasing her second single on Spotify.

“Two-fifty,” a female voice calls out, distinctly confident and self-assured. Beca notes that the blush on Chloe’s face is a little different now, this time a little shy and demure like she knows that person and is touched by the gesture.

“Who is that?” Beca asks quickly.

“Oh, I think that was Amelia,” Vlad says when he notices that his boyfriend is not responding. “She’s in Chloe’s cohort.”

But who is she, Beca wants to demand further.

“Two-seventy,” the same male voice from earlier counters, though with a tinge of hesitation.

“Three hundred,” ‘Amelia’ counters.

A pause. “Three-twenty.”

“Four-fifty.” Without hesitation. An excited murmur ripples through the crowd. Chloe’s hands are now covering her face, but Beca sees that she’s smiling ever so slightly.

“She likes her,” Ben says simply.

“Who likes who.” Beca considers this a very important distinction.

“Amelia likes Chloe.”

“And does Chloe like Amelia?”

“They’re friends.” He stares at Beca pointedly. “Like you guys are friends, right? So what’s a little competition.”

“But Chloe and I are—we’re—”

Beca finds she has no real justification, no real insight to offer because she and Chloe have been teetering on that edge of almost for so long that she has forgotten what it meant when competition came along.

Until Chicago.

And before that, for Chloe, Jesse, but Beca had been nearly completely blind to it.

And now this.

Beca’s hand is rising before she can stop herself. Her brain seems to shut down completely—the rational part at least—as her heart grabs the reins. It’s stupid, it’s archaic, but this is for Chloe (almost literally, but Beca will never succumb to the belief that this is any valid way to date somebody). “Seven hundred,” she calls out. Her eyes widen when heads swivel to her and she quickly ducks, pulling her scarf back up to her nose and mouth. She waves her paddle above her head, too embarrassed to see whether Chloe’s eyes are scanning the crowd for her.

“Holy shit,” Ben mutters.

“Eight hundred,” Amelia counters somewhere in the distance, but suddenly Beca’s ears are roaring with the oddest sound—like a chorus of fucking angels or something.

“Oh my God, the animals are lucky today,” somebody mutters somewhere to Beca’s left.

“A thousand,” Beca counters.

“Um—” Ben seems to think better of it and clamps his mouth shut, though he looks like he might laugh, or worse, smile at Beca. God.

“A thousa—”

Beca’s had it. “Two thousand!”

The shocked silence that follows is enough to tell Beca that she’s completely lost it.

(But she lost it long ago—somewhere between agreeing to join an all-female acapella group when she was eighteen because of that girl with blue eyes and a killer voice and that chaotic year that followed, somehow ending with her kissing the wrong person at the end of it all. No more of that.)

“Um,” the auctioneer has apparently lost all capabilities of auctioneering. “I…guess…? Sold to—” He peers over the crowd. “You?” he asks again, still unsure. “For two thousand dollars.”

Beca quickly presses the paddle into Ben’s hands and sinks lower in her seat, distinctly avoiding all eye contact. Those closest to her finally seem to catch on and she catches the faintest hint of whispers.

“Is that…?”

“No fucking way.”

“God, I knew Beale was lying when she said they weren’t hooking up.”

Beca tries not to think about any of that, suddenly very interested in the patterns on the carpeted floor.

 — — — — — 

  Beca i did something really stupid

Aubrey Yes, the auction was livestreamed. Chloe sent me a link.

Beca holy fuck could you see me???

Aubrey No, but thank you for confirming. Two thousand dollars, Beca Mitchell.

Beca is about to type something incredibly cheesy in response to the mild snark in Aubrey’s text, but she is distracted by Ben’s shadow appearing over her.

“Hey, so uh, you have to actually meet Chloe backstage. To set up the details and stuff. And they’re going to need a check or some other form of payment? For that two thousand dollars you just dropped?”

“Do they accept Amex,” Beca deadpans.

“Yes, I believe so. So now that that’s covered, shall we?” He holds out an arm for Beca.

Beca sighs and clicks off her phone, decidedly ignoring the very long paragraph of text Aubrey just sent to her (she caught words like “my best friend” and “hurt her” and “bear trap” so she figures that’s something she can laugh or cry over when she is inevitably sent back on a plane to Los Angeles).

“Does she know it’s me?” Beca finally asks.

“I honestly don’t know. You’re kind of short and I don’t think she could actually see you.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Beca says, feeling lightheaded.

“It’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t it be? We’re friends. We’ve done stupid shit before. She stayed back three years to just be part of an acapella group.” And to be with you, an annoying voice sounds in her head.

Oh, that was actually Ben. Who sounded eerily like Aubrey in that moment. Beca steps away from him.

He stares at her pointedly, pointing at the door.

Fuck, Beca thinks.

It is a simple study room and when Beca opens it, she isn’t expecting the space to be so small and so brightly lit. She winces immediately and nearly steps back out, but Chloe’s gasp is enough to keep her rooted to the spot.

“Beca,” Chloe squeaks. “What the fu—what are you doing here?”

“Hi,” Beca says, waving. Chloe continues to gape at her. “Hi?” Beca tries again.

Before she realizes what’s happening, Chloe is flying towards her and wrapping her arms so tightly around Beca that all the air rushes out of her in one fell swoop. She has enough sense to grip tightly at the back of Chloe’s coat, her fingers scrabbling on the thick, coarse fabric until they settle easily into each other like no time had passed before.

Beca sighs—literally sighs—like a disgusting teenager in love and she kind of thinks Chloe does the same before Chloe is pulling back and punching her in the arm oncee she’s at arm’s length.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“You seriously paid two thousand dollars?”

Oh right, that happened and was still happening.

“It was an accident,” Beca says instinctively and defensively.

“You raised the price by a thousand dollars accidentally,” Chloe clarifies.

“Don’t—don’t call it a price, like you’re…” Beca gestures uncomfortably. “Like you’re on sale or something. And I totally believe it’s your right to do what you want with your body and stuff because you should be allowed to have all that agency and—”

“Wow, Beca slow down.” Chloe grins affectionately. “Nobody’s doing anything with my body, not without my permission anyway. These things usually just end in a quick dinner or like. Laser tag or something. It’s never that serious.”

“I knew that,” Beca says quickly, trying to ignore her own blush at Chloe’s choice of words. “I just…I wanted to be…I wanted to,” she takes a steadying breath, “go on a date with you. And be your girlfriend. And do couple-y things. Because we’d be dating…as girlfriends.”

“You did?” Chloe asks quietly and so delicately that Beca’s breath catches. She tries to maintain eye contact as best as she can.

The air around them feels so heavy. “So much.”

“So you…” Chloe’s brow furrows. “Came to Colorado and paid two thousand dollars to go on a date with me? And I’m assuming you flew…so even more than two thousand dollars.”

“I…it sounds weird. I know. I’m weird. I just—” Beca heaves a breath. “I panicked, okay? I had this crazy vision of you ending up with somebody…with somebody else. That wasn’t me. And that sounds crazy jealous and crazy possessive and I have no right, but I’ve been thinking about you so much and I don’t know that I’ve ever really stopped thinking about you since that first day at the activities fair that entire fucking lifetime ago.” Beca feels winded suddenly and quickly looks up at Chloe with desperation. “I should have just…” she trails off, unsure.

She should have never let Chloe slip away the first time. Then the second time when she had the chance. When Chloe met her in the middle so many times before.

“Beca,” Chloe whispers, pulling her out of her swirling thoughts. “It’s…” She struggles to think of a word for a moment. “It’s okay. I’m not mad, I promise. It’s just…a lot.”

“I’m just so sorry because it seems like I’m always like…just one step off from you. And I just want to be on the same page. I want to be what you deserve.”

“Me too,” Chloe replies, reaching forward to take Beca’s hand. She doesn’t hold Beca’s hand however, opting instead to gently grip her wrist, her thumb beginning to trace soothing circles along her wristbone. “I want to be what you deserve too.”

Beca swallows the immediate protest. She lets it die in her throat because she knows Chloe is right—that they have so much to work on. But they can do it together.

“Things have been weird between us, haven’t they?” Beca asks quietly. She fixes her gaze on the “Since you came to visit me. And we…” she swallows. “We kissed.”

“We did,” Chloe murmurs.

“And have things been weird?” Beca presses.

“A little,” Chloe admits after a pause. “But things have always been a little weird between us.” A small smile slips across her lips as she uses her free hand to tilt Beca’s chin up so their gazes meet once more. “But I’ve liked that.”

“You have?”

Chloe shrugs. “Kind of.”

“We…we don’t have to go on this date, you know?” Beca clarifies, eyes flicking between Chloe’s eyes and her lips frantically. Chloe draws closer. “We…” Beca’s voice cracks. “Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“What do you want to do?” Chloe asks, her finger still tracing the underside of Beca’s jaw and the side of her neck.

Beca’s eyes flutter shut. “I want to kiss you again. If that’s okay.”

“Do you…” Chloe’s breath is warm against Beca’s mouth as she moves closer still. “Do you…have another thousand dollars?”

Beca’s eyes would fly open if she weren’t completely lost in the sensation of both of Chloe’s hands coming up to tangle into her hair. She moans at the sensation before she can help herself and immediately closes the distance between them, their lips bumping uncomfortably for a second before they settle into a somewhat familiar rhythm. Just like that, with a hint of banter and the way their touches soothe each other, they settle back into familiarity—back into what made them work all those years ago.

Instantly, Chloe’s body seems to press into hers with ease. Chloe’s head tilts and her mouth parts and Beca just about loses her mind. She reaches up to grab Chloe’s shoulders with difficulty before she moves her hands down to hold Chloe’s waist while subtly tugging her closer. Chloe sighs a little into the kiss before she pulls back with Beca’s lower lip trapped between her teeth for a brief moment.

Beca shudders. “Unfair,” she murmurs, momentarily forgetting her own name. Chloe’s name. Amelia. Ben.

There is nothing but this moment, with Beca’s heart threatening to burst from nerves and excitement and passion and sheer joy at the feeling of having the woman she loves in her arms once more.

“Never wait that long to ask me out again,” Chloe teases, pressing her forehead against Beca’s. “This was like…weirdly romantic, but I don’t need you to drop two thousand dollars. No matter how rich you are, miss Grammy nominee.”

Beca tilts her head to steal another kiss. “Again? As in we’re going to have multiple dates.”

“If you play your cards right.” Chloe’s nose brushes against Beca’s lightly. “Not your fancy credit card though.”

“Oh,” Beca says because Chloe’s hands are tugging through her hair again and somehow her toque is on the floor and they’re kissing again.

She could get used to this.

But of course:

“Wait ‘til I tell the girls you paid two thousand dollars to go on a date with me.” She doesn't need to sound so smug, but Beca would be remiss if she didn't acknowledge how hot Chloe sounds saying that.

It isn’t an accident that Beca shuts her up with a kiss.

fin.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep 11: Rafael’s Lian Yu Experience

Ah, lets tune into Yugioh where Duke has decided to do some off-roading in the worst car and in the worst place.

Ah yes, the normal interaction you would have with a desert and your expensive vintage car. Duke has been struggling since he became a protagonist to stick to a defining trope. Now that Serenity is gone, and now that they aren’t watching a duel for Duke to be a downer about, I guess his only other tick is that he sucks at driving?

Again there was a perfectly serviceable truck back at the RV but they just really like to put miles on this car (which doesn’t have it’s lights on I believe, which...good job, Duke).

And he just launches these two inexplicably out of the car. Because Yugi might be losing his whole damn soul on the other end of this desert, but we will have cartoon shenanigans, damn it.

It really does look like Dukes looking through the wrong side of his binoculars here...that extra level of Duke.

Speaking of extra level, hows that horse thing going? Where Yugi is riding a horse for the first time in his entire life?

Because, apparently the show has decided that Yami should be really good at horses (????????). He can’t read any Egyptian, he doesn’t have any memories of his Pharaoh life, he can barely use magic, but apparently, he can game a horse. Only problem, is that this art team of high octane vehicle enthusiasts seems totally unaware of how horses work---I’ll just show you. This scene GOES places, and I will absolutely record it so you can watch it in it’s entirety in a separate post.

(see more horse under the cut)

The horses leg didn’t move the entire slide down the mountain y’all, he just stuck one hoof in front of him and power-slid down a freakin cliff like he was wearing horse Wheelies.

What the Hell?

Anyway, welcome to our new dueling platform.

You wouldn’t believe it, but it’s on a very tall thing. I know, in this show? They’re dueling on a tall thing? Whaaaaat?

This is a hilariously weirdly perfectly cylindrical land mass 10/10.

So Rafael’s whole deal is so freakin weird.

Rafael’s a weirdo. I was ready for Alister, since Alister introduced himself in a Maximilian Pegasus suit, but I just wasn’t expecting Rafael to be the weirdEST youknow? Of the three? Like he’s up there with Arcana and the band-saw ankle-slicing machine. Just a really choice human being who makes really good decisions.

God bless this artist’s obsession with edgy cargoes.

Anyways, another fun fact about Rafael is he gets more and more jacked with every single frame it feels--his muscles are like the quality to go fight Cell, but all he does is play cards.

Also he’s obsessed with justifying mass murder on a global scale so...he seems a little bit like an X-men villain in that way, except he’s...just a normal ass dude who got really buffed.

Rafael needs a reason to want to destroy all humanity--that’s really the big dilemma that the writing crew was given, but the way they got there...was a lot.

Lets dive right into it, starts off kind of normal, run of the mill “gotta cleanse the world yada yada” and then just starts somersaulting down a steep hill like in Princess Bride.

First of all, the show decides to reveal to us the entire story via a Rebecca google search, and then, once we’re like WTF? we get to hear it in it’s entirety and it is way weirder the second time.

So um...this Titanic cruise ship.

Yeah. I know. That’s a lot of Princess Peach dresses.

(welcome back, glass of OJ that every child on this show drinks with every meal)

Honestly there is no greater curse in this show than being rich. If you’re a rich dude you are SCREWED. Some force of nature is going to come for you just at any possible moment. You will get abducted....MANY TIMES. You will lose your parents, repeatedly. Your wife will die shortly after marriage. Some asshole will walk up and just remove your eyeball and replace it with a magic golf ball. You will never be the best at cards. Just never be rich in the Yugioh universe. It is better to be dead.

Speaking, of dead--just did a Rebecca-brand google search--do you know how many people fit on an average cruise liner?

It’s more than you think.

Woooooooooooooooooooooo that’s about 3000 people! Just nonchalantly! (and yo, I went mid-range, some cruise liners carry like 6000)

We passed so many 69′s just now!

Now there is some weird issues with this episode where Rebecca was like “The only survivor was Rafael” and then later, Rafael mentions his family is still alive--kinda sounds like the translation shenanigans are back at it, where the English version is desperately trying to keep people from dying, but like, the Japanese version drew a 600 ft tidal wave that ate up this cruise-liner like it was a bathtub toy made of paper.

But sure, maybe some escape boats made it out safely from a catastrophe that is 800 times worse than the Titanic. Sure they did.

PS History Channel got into a weird trend in the 00′s where they used to do these series of rogue wave horror stories--do you remember those? Anyways, one of my friends got super spooked by rogue waves and had it as one of her top ten fears. At the time I was like “lol you’re not gonna get rogue waved on a cruise are you kidding?” But then again, maybe she watched Yugioh and this episode scarred her for life?

Especially since this crazy traumatic experience was followed by three years of being stranded on an island and going COMPLETELY insane. Like not just...partial--Rafeal has absolutely no grip on reality anymore. Like, at all. He’s on another plane from most other Yugioh villains.

It’s like Lord of the Flies but there’s only one person in it. The Lord of the Fly.

This is a kid’s show.

Anyways, on the island, Rafael got hella jacked. So there was that one plus. He did eventually become a very huge person in his adulthood, although he did get a Mokuba haircut for a little while. This honestly says more about Mokuba’s hair routine than anything else.

He also spent some time seeing his lost family members as these three cards that he likes to pray to. Occasionally they fall into the ocean and he has to dry them off. Rafael lived a kind of boring weird life cycling between hallucinations and staring into the ocean.

The show didn’t bother to tell us what Rafael was eating or explain how that outfit lasted 3 years. But, they did describe that after 3 ENTIRE YEARS, Darts decided to just start harassing him.

Which...OK...and then there was this next sequence

I mean this was the only interaction that Rafael had in three years so maybe he forgot that getting drowned by people who harness the power of the ocean isn’t like...good behavior?

Anyways, back in the real world, in the city and wearing his hot topic grunge vest well into his early 30′s, Rafael decided that everyone just...deserves to die. Traffic sucks. Cities sucks. There’s too much crime. Everyone should be dead. It was very strange and sudden twist. You go from having all the money in the world, to no money, and then back to all the money and it’s like “Central heating SUCKS! KILL EVERYONE!”

Then Rafael made this mention of his family that has to be a translation thing.

Those guys have got to be dead. I mean this is Yugioh. There were no survivors. I’ll be very surprised if they pop up next episode, I’ll even dock them off the Death Count if they never died, I am that certain they won’t still be dead in this upcoming arc. They have clearly been replaced with paper cards. Like I wouldn’t be surprised if their souls were somehow inside these particular cards he carries.

I didn’t cap it, but to walk on the island you walk across a glowing oricalchos bridge and it was very goofy.

And then these guys showed up, reminding me again that they are still on this show, because tbh, I completely forgot.

I kinda miss when they were the weirdest people here and I just thought Rafael was another boring guy in handlebar muttonchops.

Anyway, it’s a short update today. I’m a little behind on things in other places, so that’s fine by me. I keep hoping that soon I’ll be back to doing like 2 of these a week. Especially since I recently decided to start blocking twitter and other places I’ve been wasting a little too much time on, maybe then it’ll funnel my efforts to here? We’ll see. Next episode we’ll find out how long all of these guys wearing jackets in the desert are faring.

And here’s a link to read these from the beginning.

[baz-n-simon]

Just to be clear it’s a date - part 3

Hello! I am sorry that I've taken (more than) a year to finish this, but I'm here now and hopefully you'll like this third and last chapter. I did, as you might have seen on my tumblr, finish it sometime in February, but I wasn't happy with it, bc I felt that I wrote Simon too eloquent at one point, but last night I decided to publish it anyway bc if not now it might take another year or two before I actually post it. I'm very sorry about that, but I really hope you'll forgive my procrastinating butt for... well... my procrastination.

Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

Also, big thank you to my one and only (and favorite) beta @catsandladyluck aka @carryonsimoncarryon, so muh bless, so much love <3 Thank you for helping me with my silly mistakes <3

Ps! this chapter switches point of view a total of three times, you'll see "~ Baz" when it's from Baz's pov, and "~ Simon" with it's from Simon's pov (duh)

Part 1: tumblr / ao3

Part 2: tumblr / ao3

Part 3: you are here / ao3

Words: 2.8k

~ Baz

I walk to work as usual. Except today I’m feeling extra ready for the weekend to come quick; simply so that I can lounge around at home and text Simon. The gorgeous stranger from the park. My gorgeous stranger. Well, I guess he’s not a stranger anymore. Simon. His name makes my spine shiver with excitement. I really hope we can make that date happen soon. We were planning on going out for dinner last weekend, but I got called into work for an extra shift at the office. Which sucked massively. We tried making plans during the week, but of course, this week we worked different shifts. And now it’s Friday. And we still haven’t rescheduled our date. Maybe he decided that he didn’t want to go on a date with me after all? I could understand that decision, I guess. He asked me out. I said yes. And then I cancelled last minute. I’d probably be sceptic too.

As I walk into work, heading for my office, I exchange a few ’Hello’s’ with some of my coworkers. My office is located almost at the end of the long hallway on the second floor; ‘Mr. T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch’ the plaque on the door reads .

When I open the door to my office, the first thing I notice is a lavish bouquet of red, yellow, orange and pink roses. I close the door behind me before walking closer to my desk. Red roses; love and romance; orange roses: enthusiasm and passion; yellow roses; friendship, joy and good health; and lastly pink roses; love, gratitude and appreciation.

So, I think, maybe he hasn’t changed his mind yet then.

I smile to myself. The bouquet is placed in the middle of my work-desk, and I twist the bouquet around, looking at it. There’s a card attached. I open it and all it says are two short sentences: ‘Usual spot. Saturday evening 7 pm - S’. My smile widens. He hasn’t given up on me yet then, thank Merlin.

I pull out my phone and text him. ‘Thanks for the flowers; can’t wait’.

There’s a knock on my door and I look up. Agatha is curiously staring in from outside my door, and I wave my hand in a gesture to tell her to come inside.

The downside to the doors in this office is the fact that they’re glass doors. Which means it doesn’t stop anyone from looking inside, but at least it somewhat dampens/reduces the sounds of my talkative coworkers throughout the day.

Agatha is looking at me. Studying me, her gaze shifting between me and the grand bouquet, she shuts the door behind her, stepping inside.

“So,” she pauses. “Who’s Mr. Charming?” she smiles slyly. “I saw the delivery guy arriving, and you can imagine my surprise when he walked them to this office! You’re receiving flowers without me knowing anything about someone who might be sending you flowers?” She’s ranting on and on, waiting for me to cut in and tell her all the gossip. I let her rant on for a while more, listening to her not minding her own business, as usual. She’s very sweet and also somewhat annoying at times, but I know it’s only because she cares.

“Listen, Agatha, as much as I’d love to hear you rant on about how big of a disappointment I am for not telling you stuff, I have to stop you. ‘Cause this is nothing yet. However, maybe I’ll have some gossip for you over the weekend,” I smirk, and she grins expectantly at me, clapping her hands together in an excited manner.

“So, where did you meet him?” she was never one for leaving me alone with my thoughts. Always so curious and bubbly.

“The park,” I smile, my eyebrows arching a tad higher on my forehead.

“No! Not the handsome stranger?” She beams.

I shrug and lean on my desk. “Might be.”

“Oh my god, yes!” she exclaims. “Did you finally ask him out?”

“Not exactly; He asked me.” I smile, feeling a faint blush creeping up my neck and cheeks.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you, Bazzy!” She looks as if her head might explode any minute, her hands at her cheeks now, and her brown eyes are gleaming. She opens her arms and fling herself at me, hugging me tightly. I chuckle and hug her back. Even though she can be annoying, she’s mostly a delight, and she’s always got a good advice up her sleeve when you need it the most.

My phone buzzes, and I grab it before she can see the text.

“Ah, is your Mr. Charming missing you already?” she grins, trying to read the text on the phone screen shining brightly between my slender fingers.

I blush and shove it into my back pocket. “Gossip is after the weekend, remember?” I smile slyly at her, letting the word ‘after’ drag.

“Sunday; wine and gossip.” I think it’s supposed to be a question, but it sounds more like a statement. “Unless you’re still in Saturday's suit, I mean.” And with that she leaves, going back to her office a few doors away, leaving me blushing.

~ Saturday

“You look great, Baz,” Simon is blushing, but he seems confident as he’s getting up from the park bench where he was sat waiting for me.

“Thank you. You look very handsome yourself, Simon.” I smile, looking him up and down. He’s wearing a light grey blazer, dark fitted jeans and a white button-up shirt. He’s stunning. I can’t believe we’re actually on a date.

“So, are you ready to go to dinner?” He looks shy, but my smile and slight nod seems to encourage him to speak on. “I didn’t know which restaurant you like, so I booked us tables at an Italian restaurant, an Asian restaurant and at this fancy Steakhouse that Penny suggested. You know, so that you’d have some options, and since I wasn’t sure what you preferred,” his rant is quick, as if he’s stressed, but when he stops talking he smiles, and there’s a glimmer in his blue eyes.

I chuckle at his words. “That’s very thoughtful. I’m really not picky, so if you have any preferences, you just go ahead and choose.”

“I’m no picky eater either, but I booked at these three restaurants so you could choose, so I’m gonna leave the decision up to you.” He grins, obviously pleased with his foolproof plan.

I ponder about my options before deciding. “How about the Steakhouse? I’ve wanted to check it out for a while, I’ve heard great things about their food there from some friends.”

“Great! Sounds like a plan.” He smiles and takes a step closer to me, offering his hand. I hook my arm onto his, and we start walking.

~ Simon

He hooks his arm onto mine and we walk alongside each other. We talk about the places we walk past and make up stories about the people we see along the way.

“Her name is Barbara, and her pomeranian dog is also her best friend and lover,” Baz says, nodding in a way that makes it seem like he knows all about what’s up in Barbara’s life.

I chuckle at his story before pointing at a man sitting by the table at an outside bar across the street. “And that’s Bob. He’s secretly in love with his best friends wife, but no one knows.” I whisper the last part as an excuse to lean closer to Baz.

He laughs. “You know what? There is actually a possibility that might be true.”

I laugh at Baz’s comment, slightly shaking my head while grinning.

We get our seats quickly when we get to the Steakhouse, and the waitress hands us a couple of menus before taking our drink orders.

“A glass of red wine for me, please.” He smiles when the waiter looks at him for his order.

Baz looks stunning in his black slim fitted jeans, an emerald green blazer and a white button-up shirt.

“You know what, just bring the bottle and two glasses, please.” I smile at the waiter who nods and smiles.

“I’ll be back soon to take your dinner orders, but first, is there any special bottle of red wine you’d like?” She smiles and clicks her pen a couple of times, flipping her notepad.

Baz shakes his head when I look at him.

“Whatever he decides,” I smile with the slightest hint of a challenge in my tone.

Baz looks at the drink menu and points at the wine chart. “This one, then. The Cabernet Sauvignon.”

“Good choice, Sir. I’ll be right back with your wine,” she says as she quickly scribbles it down on her small notepad.

“Good choice, Sir,” I say teasingly, a grin plastered on my face as I lean across the table with a not so quiet whisper.

He makes a short snorting sound as he laughs. “It was the only one I knew.” He confessed with the slightest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. The rest, I’m guessing, were all too fancy.”

I lean a bit closer to the middle of the table again, and he bites his lower lip and raises one eyebrow in a way that made it seem like he was waiting for a good comeback. “Me too,” I admit, still with a not so quiet whisper.

He laughs. And when he laughs he tilts his head back in a beautiful manner. By Merlin’s beard. He’s so beautiful and handsome and elegant. Whatever it is he does, he always looks stunning. I feel my head spin as I remember that he actually said yes to a date with me. My head spins even more at the thought that this is an actual date. I feel so lucky!

The waitress comes back with two glasses and the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, filling the glasses before taking our orders and leaving again.

Dinner goes by fast. Both our steaks, the bottle of wine and the shared brownie are gone way too fast for any one of us to be ready for the night to end.

I pay the check, leaving a good tip to the sweet and very helpful waitress. I thank her for the great service before heading out, Baz clutching onto my left arm.

“That was very sweet of you.” Baz’s smiling lips seem intoxicating as he leans closer to me when we get outside.

“What was?” I smile at him, then stare at his lips longingly.

“The way you treated her. It was so nice... I liked that.”

We walk along the pavement, going nowhere in particular.

“Everyone deserves kindness, and I think everyone should just try to make at least one person smile everyday.” Baz is smiling at me, and I smile back.

“What?” I ask when he keeps staring at me. “Earth to Baz.” I wave my right hand in front of his face to catch his attention when he doesn’t answer me.

He bites his lower lip like he did during dinner and it’s making me so dizzy that I have to stop in my tracks. So does he.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.

I let out a short, surprised laugher. “What?”

“You’re beautiful,” he repeats, taking a step closer to me, even though he’s almost glued to my side already.

I tilt my head up to look into his eyes. I never noticed before but he’s a few centimeters  taller than me.

“You must be drunker than I thought,” I tease, smiling up at him, bumping my shoulder into his side gently.

He tilts his head back to laugh, and from this angle I can easily admire how the side of his eyes crinkle up when he laughs, and how his perfectly white teeth shows when he laughs with his mouth open.

I think, if I lean forward right now, I could kiss his Adam’s apple. I watch how it moves when he laughs, and before I can help myself, I bury my fist in the collar of his button-up shirt and pull him down towards me.

We meet in a heated kiss, and I suddenly feel the cold concrete behind me.

Baz is pushing me up against a wall, I think to myself happily. Baz. I smile into the kiss at the thought of his name, and at the realization that we’re on an actual date.

This might be the best first date I’ve ever been to, and right now, I hope it’s the last first date I go to.

~ Baz

“You’re beautiful,” I whisper.

He lets out a surprised laughter. “What?”

“You’re beautiful,” I repeat. Knowing I’m already as close as I can get, I still take a step closer to him. I’m feeling brave with the wine flowing in my veins. He is beautiful. And he’s so kind and gentle.

“You must be drunker than I thought,” he says with a teasing smile. bumping his shoulder into my side.

I tilt my head back, laughing at his comment. He must be stupid not to realize how amazing he is.

Before I know it he grabs my button-up shirt by the collar and pulls me down towards him, and I meet his lips. It feels as if I need his kiss to survive and I push him back towards a wall closeby. I lean my entire weight onto him. One of my hands finds its way to his hair, the other grabbing at his waist to keep him closer. Soon he’s grabbing at my waist as well, and it feels amazing. Who would have known he’d be such a good kisser?

As we come out for air, he grins at me. “I know a place where we could go stargazing.” It sounds more like a question than a statement, but I nod.

“Show the way,” I grab his hand and intertwine our fingers.

He smiles down at our hands, then leans closer, putting his head on my shoulder. He smiles up at me for a quick moment before straightening up, grabbing my hand harder and sprinting off with me clumsily following behind.

“This way,” he says loudly as he turns a corner.

We turn a few more corners, walk through a small park, and sneak into an old building through the backyard. When we get inside, he hastily pulls me up the stairs.

“This way to the stars,” he says loudly, grinning, slightly out of breath.

“You sound like a poet,” I laugh. “Or Peter Pan.”

“Ha-ha,” he pretend laughs, but then he actually laughs, and I feel my heart race when he looks back at me with flushed cheeks.

When we get to the rooftop, I stop in my tracks. There’s a view of the entire city from here, and it’s beautiful.

“Feels almost like a movie,” I blurt out as I look around.

“I know,” Simon says softly, walking over to the railing at the edge and leaning against it. “I love it up here; everything seems so much smaller from here.”

I walk over and lean on the railing beside him. “You come here often?”

“Whenever I need to think, or when I wanna look at the stars.” He walks over to what looks like a storage closet. He pulls out a few blankets, some pillows for lawn chairs and a telescope.

I lean back against the railing, watching him as he makes something similar to a picnic in the middle of giant space up here on the roof, placing the telescope gently on one of the pillows.

“You have something you need to think about now?” I ask, keeping my voice soft and low.

“You,” he says simply.

I look at him. He’s still fixing the blankets.

“Me?”

“Well, not really, more like I’m thinking about the fact that I’m happy you came along. Honestly I didn’t think  you would, but you did, and I feel like I should have brought some wine, or a few more blankets in case you get cold or something.” He shrugs and smile at me.

“I think we can manage, don’t you?” I grin, walking closer to Simon and reaching for his hand.

“You’re right,” his smile is gentle as he grabs my hand, and I lean closer to kiss his cheek.

“Wanna sit down and look at the stars with me?” He’s blushing, and suddenly he’s looking shy.

I bite my lip with amusement. “I’d love that,” I nod, moving closer.

We sit down, as close as possible. For a very long time we sit there, holding hands, and taking turns looking at the stars through the telescope.

This might have actually been a perfect first date. Who even knew there was such a thing as a perfect first date? One thing I know for sure is that I want many, many more in the future. Hopefully all of them will be with Simon.

[pretty-idol-hell]

2017 Coord Design Contest “Contest” RESULTS!!!!

Once again, the winners were picked by me, using my own dumb judgement. Please don’t take it personally! I honestly made the final call, after much deliberation, by looking at the TomoTickets alone and I had forgotten most of who designed what. 

HERE WE GO!!!!

(PS. I really hope I got all the creators and coord names right. If I messed up please tell me immediately haha sorry there was a lot to keep track of.....)

Luna Design Category

 3rd Place

The Stealthy Moonlight coord by @kotori-for-the-win!!

Luna comment: Okay we’re off to kind of a rocky start here. I know you designed this for Hikari, but I made the executive decision to use this as a Luna coord because I had tons of amazing coords for Hikari and not as many for Luna. Besides, I liked it!!! So hopefully you’ll forgive me. And you know what, with the dark color scheme the glasses match haha. 

2nd Place

Blue Moon coord by @milky-holmes!

Luna comment: What can I say! This coord is totally my style!! It looks like something I would have designed myself for Luna. I LOVE the combination of the Dramatical Moon template with the Precious Dreaming shoes and I use it all the time. 

1st Place

Lumious Fantasia Coord by @letsudraw!

Luna comment: Welp, considering all the coords I liked for Luna were very similar it all came down to the color scheme in the end.... and.... I just really liked this color scheme!!! It reminds me of that wolf Halloween coord I always like to use on Luna (but can only get away with at Halloween time). I changed Luna’s hair back to the twin half-up on my own volition specifically for this coord because the blues clashed with the highlights in the pigtails. It still clashes a little. BUT OH WELL. GOOD COORD. 

Hinode Design Category

3rd Place

Miracle Pastel Coord by @momoticket!

Luna comment: I have always had trouble using this template, so I am impressed you found colors that work with it, and also work well for Hinode’s lovely side! I like it! Good job!

2nd Place

Sunny Giraffe Coord by @milky-holmes!

Luna comment: Sorry I don’t have much to comment on this one either. Super cute coord, good design, looks great on Hinode!!! I rather like Hinode in Sunny Zoo. It’s one of her (many.....) secondary brands. 

1st Place 

Dramatic Sunrise Coord by @triplehamburgerjack!

Luna comment: Okay. I’ll be honest. I wasn’t quiiiite sure about this one until I scanned it in. Then I was like WHAAAAT IT’S CRAZY AND I LOVE IT. You took a lot of risky patterns and colors and somehow made it work! It’s very NightLight, it’s very Hinode!! (....Yes I changed the glasses back haha it was bothering me more than it should have. Don’t sweat it though.)

Hikari Design Category

Let me first say that this was by far the most difficult to judge..... there were a lot of good coords for Hikari! But, she is a model after all. I was flip flopping my decision up until the very end.... but this was what I finally settled on...

3rd Place

Elegant Mysterious Coord by @kotori-for-the-win!

Luna comment: Looooook at this coord. It’s so intricate. Your eyes just go to so many places. It gives Hikari such an exotic flare and it’s exciting to see. Also the glasses work so I kept them haha. 

2nd Place 

Lapis Lazuli Stone Coord by @zombiewang!

Luna comment: I REALLY REALLY LIKE THIS! Not necessarily because of how it looks on Hikari, but just in general. It’s an interesting design that I myself would want to wear. It looks so comfy! I really like this combination of the different templates!!! Awesome job!!! 

1st Place

Kirameki Hoshi Coord by @pripara-hills!

Luna comment: This was actually the first coord entered into the contest. And I just looked at it like “ohhhhhh woooooowwww...” The bar was immediately raised. What can I say! It’s gorgeous! LOOK AT IT! I admit I faltered a bit when I scanned it in with the red glasses haha, but after removing them and taking a second look I was like.... yeah, this is it! 

Team Design Category

(This may or may not have been a category I made up just for the below entry.... ahem..... )

Blue, Red, and Black Sailor Maid coords by @pretty-rhythmm!

Luna comment: So, with other folks who made team coords, there was always one I could pick out that I clearly liked the best. With these coords.... I couldn’t!!! I liked them all!! They clearly looked the best as a set. They aren’t quite NightLight’s usual style.They are very simple, Pretty Rhythm era-type coords and I LOVe IT! It works!! I could totally see them doing an upbeat Pretty Rhythm song like Otome Puzzle in these coords.... (and in fact.... I may have done exactly that....) I kinda liked Hinode and Hikari’s dorky glasses look. I kept it. It evens out with Luna is center. 

Honorable Mentions (In no particular order)

So these are the coords I couldn’t fit in the top 3 BUT I still thought were worth sending into the contest.... and they are:

Nocturne Prince Coord by @glinkling!

Lemon Himawari Coord by @xesc13primero-pripara​!

Blue Chupe Coord by @xesc13primero-pripara!

Classy Model Coord by @letsudraw!

Sunburst Student Coord by @letsudraw!

SO. ALL of these coords, regardless of how I ranked them, will be entered in Takara Tomy’s official design contest. 

In fact, a lot of them already have been!! I have been sending out postcards for a few days now (staggering was my strategy last time and I am sticking to it). 

So these coords (plus the ones I designed) will have a (very small) chance of being used in the anime or on the arcade game this spring!!! You’ll have to help me find them haha (there is a chance they could use them but not with my characters). Since they are updating Dream Theater later this week, I might make more tickets and send in some repeat entries as well. 

GOOD LUCK TO US ALL AND THANKS FOR PLAYING!!! 

(Follow-up videos to be posted soon... the codes for all of these coords can be found in the notes of the original post :3)

[dcbicki]

“and where do i go?” For Jonsa 😊

Okay, so, fluff is not my forte; never has been. But I do try, and I think this just about borders that fine line between subtle angst and romance. Also, I’m super sorry it took so long to get this out. It takes me ages to write prompts. I do think I went a little overboard with the request itself though because this is basically a oneshot revolving around a proper storyline instead of just a small prompt fulfilment. I do that, though; write too much and regret sharing too many details. But then I also love my writing and my knack for detailed descriptions and accounts. So… Yeah, I’ll stop talking now. Anyway, enjoy, and please let me know what you think! (PS: And request anything anytime and I will try my best to get around to it because I love writing for you guys and myself!)

- - - -

It seems like forever ago that they learned of Robb’s engagement.

He’d called Sansa late on a Saturday night, when she was feeding her dog Lady after just getting getting home from work at the store.

He’d been loud and boisterous, and she could just about make out the sound of Talisa’s voice piping up in the background.

“We’re engaged! She said yes, San!”

She was happy for her brother, truly.

After losing their parents in that awful accident years ago, he’d been the one to take care of everyone. Her big brother became her guardian, almost a replacement father of sorts.

Granted, he was only three years her senior and just as young at heart when he wanted to be - the cheerful phone call at eleven o'clock on a Saturday night a clear sign of this - but he’d taken on a lot of responsibility.

He deserved nice things, good things, and Talisa was just that. She was beautiful and witty and one hell of a surgeon. How Robb had met her and they’d started going out, Sansa had no clue.

But it didn’t matter. He was happy, and he deserved to be, and she was glad of it.

The same couldn’t be said for herself though.

No. Though she’d dated a few guys here and there - including a few assholes who verged much too close to abusive in college - there was never anybody who had managed to really tug at her heart and rip it from her chest.

Strong analogy, sure, but she was a passionate person. And if nobody could make her want to fall to pieces from crippling love and devastatingly tender touches, then they weren’t right for her. She knows her worth, knows what she wants and what she deserves.

That isn’t to say she hasn’t tried to find someone worthy of her heart and affections. She’s tried, almost succeeded a couple of times in the past. But this time, with this guy - who adorably calls her My Lady when he dotes upon her, and once (unsuccessfully) attempted to bake a lemon drizzle cake for her birthday because everybody else had forgotten - she may have gotten it right.

The only problem was that he was pretty unwilling to come clean about their relationship, and let it known to family and friends and foes alike that they were in fact of couple.

It wouldn’t have taken much, Sansa reckoned. He could have just sent a quick text to Robb, or hell even coughed up to Arya on their weekly get-togethers down at the shooting range.

But oh, no. No, Jon wasn’t sure how they’d react, and therefore refrained from even trying to tell them at all.

I’ve been dating your sister for seven months and we’re planning on moving in together in the new year but I’ve been too much of a coward to tell you. Really sorry about that. Cheers for the pint, though.

She’s had a good mind to do it herself sometimes, but he’s resolute that one day he’ll tell Robb. The conversation always ends the same way though; she tells him to grow some balls, he laughs it off, and they ignore the topic until it’s brought up again.

Only this time, Sansa is fed up with waiting.

It’s Robb’s rehearsal dinner, and she’s sat alone at the bar because the meal was rather bland and she needs something tasty.

The glass almost shatters in her hand when he approaches her, stood at her side with one hand in a back pocket of his trousers and the other sliding along the cool bar in front of them.

His thumb taps along her knuckles and Sansa pulls herself away, carefully holding onto her glass.

She’s pissed - as in angry, not drunk - and he knows it.

“My brother is getting married tomorrow and I don’t have a date. Or, rather I do have a date, but he doesn’t want to admit that he is my date. Or, maybe I’m his date and he just wants to deny that instead.”

She tilts her head, sips a little bit more of her drink and then sighs aloud. Scratching at tangled red hair at the base of her neck - tangled from sweat, sweaty from exhaustion because she’s been on her feet all day - Sansa licks her lips and finally shoots him a glance.

“Do you really think now is the best time?”

Jon’s eyes are dark, deeper than their regular shade of brown she knows so well and loves so much. His voice is hoarse, and she knows he’s had more than a little bit of whiskey poured down it.

“No.” She nods once, frowns as she does it. “I think the best time was about three months ago, when he asked who were bringing to his wedding and you shrugged. I think that might have been a pretty good time to tell him that you had a girlfriend he already knows and loves.”

“That’s the point, Sansa.” He doesn’t sit, doesn’t pull out the vacant bar stool next to her and plonk his backside down to talk this out.

He just stands, and clasps both hands in front of him. His watch is shiny - it’s expensive and a secret gift she bought him for his thirtieth birthday, though he’d fibbed when asked and said a distant uncle gifted it.

He’d returned the gesture with a daintily elegant pair of emerald green earrings for her birthday, and she’d lied to Arya when asked and told her sister that an elderly client handed them down to her as present for her kindness.

“He knows you, and he loves you, and he’s your brother.” He frowns now, all moody and brooding, soft brows knitting.

“And you’re his best friend.”

“And I’m his best friend, and I’ve known you all for a solid fifteen years now. Look, it isn’t that I don’t wanna tell him. I do.” He’s sure of his words, or at least he sounds it. He’s all Northern accent and quiet determination. “I want to tell him. But we’ve known each other since we were fourteen, Sansa. That’s half my life. Telling him I’ve been shacking up with his little sister isn’t going to go down well.”

“Is that what we’re doing, then, shacking up?” Her brows raise, and her teeth chew at the insides of her cheeks for a moment, “Here I was thinking you loved me and wanted to prove it. Well, bugger me.”

“Sansa.”

“Do you want me to tell him? Seems I’ve got bigger metaphorical balls than you’ve got real ones.”

She downs the rest of her drink at that, and stands up on shaky legs. She isn’t drunk, not even tipsy. But she’s been sat for a while after not being sat all day, and she’s uneven.

He holds her upright, one hand on her arm, gentle and reassuring.

“What exactly would you like me to tell him, tell them?” He nods his head towards her family, Robb by the large window with his fiancée at his side, he and Sansa’s siblings bickering in the corner over something silly.

“Tell him the truth. Tell him what you told me. Tell him that you drove me home after work one day because I felt like shit, and we ordered fish and chips and mushy peas, and I asked you to never leave. Tell him that you promised me you’d stay and you did and I kissed you. Tell him that was seven months ago and you haven’t doubted your decision for a single day.”

“Just like that?”

Maybe she got through to him. Maybe suggesting that she take the reigns and do it herself forced him into action.

“Just like th-”

“What are you two whispering about?”

Robb is beside them, leaning over the bar to retrieve a fresh bottle of wine. It’s unopened and heavy, but he’s smiling over at them as he strains to reach it.

It’s only when he stands straight and looks back and forth between them expectantly that Sansa finally registers his question.

But before she or Jon can answer him, Talisa is stepping into place beside her groom and smoothing her hand down his chest.

“I spoke to the boys. Bran says he’s fine sitting by the window table. If he gets bored, he can just stare out at the trees, apparently. Rickon doesn’t care, I don’t think.” She smiles, brown hair swinging as Robb pulls her closer.

“Window table?”

Talisa’s eyes widen at the realisation, “Oh, yes. We’ve had to change a few things at the last minute. Your aunt Lysa changed her mind and she’s decided to come after all.”

Robb shrugs, adds, “I think she has a new husband she wants to show off or something.” He rolls his eyes, swings the wine bottle in his fist. “You guys have been moved, too, San. Hope you don’t mind.”

He looks at Jon then, who only nods and glances across at the redhead.

“Yes, Arya’s going over to the second table, with your uncle Benjen and the like. I tried to get her onto the girls’ table but she said, and I quote, ”‘I am not going there!’.“ Talisa holds up a finger pointedly to copy Arya.

Sansa blinks, swallows a breath behind a smile with a brow in curiosity, “And where do I go?”

“Where do we go?”

It’s half-statement, half-question, and there’s a smile dancing along Sansa’s lips as she turns her neck to face Jon.

She reaches for him, grabs his hand and places it on her hip, urging him forward. This is us, and we are a we.

They have to come clean eventually.

There’s a strange look on Robb’s face, somewhere between confusion and disturbance, but Sansa only grins and grips Jon’s hand tighter.

“Where do we go?”