#that aside to. hope the writer not afraid to hold back and just.. not make fun of the main villain. main villain looks pretty cool.

[yourfriendlyshapeshiftermonsters]

So uh

Kungfu panda 4 is coming folks.

...

How we're feeling today?

[cowboyfromh3ll]

I'm a horrible writer, and I'd had this idea stuck in my head for weeks. If you have time, I'd love to see it in your writing style. Only if you want to, though.

Javier and fem!reader are in an established relationship, and have been ever since they were teenagers. They joined the gang together after Javier was run out of Mexico, and he asked her to run away with him. Like the bonnie to his clyde. When the gang arrives in horseshoe overlook, the reader starts to feel sick. She'd become close friends with Abigail, so she discussed how she had been feeling (Ex: Sore breasts, nausea in the morning or with smells of certain things)

and above all, her period is late. About 2 months late. She thought it might have just been stress, but Abigail suggested that she might be pregnant. The reader waited a little while before telling Javier, because she was nervous, scared, and overall afraid of what he'd say. They both knew how dangerous the world was for people like them. When getting ready to lie down to bed one night, Javier can tell that there's something wrong, and he pulls her aside. As they walk around the outskirts of camp, she finally tells him what was bothering her.

Maybe he takes her into town to celebrate? and by celebrate, I mean they get a hotel room. wink wonk

Let’s Go To Bed

(Javier Escuella x Fem!Reader Smut)

Forgive me I’m a busy little guy

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, pregnancy kink, praise kink

An acidic stripe of vomit moved up your throat in a way that reminded you of mercury rising in a thermometer. You felt the familiar sensation of gagging tugging at the back of your throat as you began to overproduce saliva, your body's attempt at preparation for the bitter regurgitation of this morning's breakfast. You briefly managed to swallow it down with a silent burp before groaning and falling back to sit on your ass. 

“You look awful.” Abigail remarked, wrapping a shawl around your shivering shoulders. You could only nod in response, a line of saliva dripping down the side of your mouth as your head lolled to the side. 

“I feel awful.” You groaned, leaning into Abigail’s hold. She dug through her pockets, fishing out a bottle that she presumably got from the medicine wagon. She more or less bottle fed the tonic to you, holding it to your lips and tipping your head backwards. The taste alone made you nearly gag once more, and you let out a strained grunt when she pulled it away. She then handed a mug of coffee to you, hoping it would replace the flavor of the tonic. 

“Thank you so much Abigail… But I’m sorry I woke you up so early.” You apologized, holding the mug beneath your nose. The coffee seemed to be the only smell around camp that didn’t make your head spin in a vomit inducing nausea. 

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I couldn’t just ignore how sick you were. In fact, I’m surprised Javier didn’t wake up…” Abigail narrowed her eyes at him in a way that made you giggle. She had a point; your retching had been so loud and so close next to his body, you felt that even if you had spilled your guts all over him he still wouldn’t have woken up. He slept as though he had traveled on foot across the country and back.Though other members of camp had been awake at the time, they weren’t as well prepared to handle your sickness the same way Abigail was. 

“Yeah… I don’t know how he can sleep like he doesn't have a care in the world..” You sighed, envying your husband for not having to suffer the same way you did. 

“Well you should be his one care in the world!” She rebuked, rolling her eyes at his sleeping form. The two of you broke into silent laughter afterwards. Abigail looked back at you, a motherly concern in her eyes. 

“You’ve been real sick lately, (Name). I’m beginning to worry. It comes at random too.” She sat down next to you, studying your body. She held a maternal air around her, worrying over you the same way an experienced guardian would in consulting their child and giving them advice. 

“Girl talk, but have you and Javier been intimate lately?” Her question was straight to the point, blunt in a way that suggested she was looking to get to the bottom of this. You blushed and giggled nervously, looking back and forth between Javier and Abigail. Part of you felt that you’d be doing Javier a disservice by sharing details about your intimate life together with someone else, especially while his unconscious body bore witness. 

“Uhm, yeah. I suppose so…” You nodded slowly, unable to look her in the eyes. She raised her brows and nodded knowingly. 

“And what else have you been feeling?”

“Well, I’ve been tired and pretty out of breath, I thought I was just unfit or something?” It sounded as though you were trying to convince yourself of that more than you were Abigail. “And my breasts have been pretty sore, Javier did say they got bigger…” 

Abigail rolled her eyes at that last remark. “Of course that’s the first thing the man notices and not how sick you’ve been.”

As if you were catching onto what Abigail was getting at, you added “And I haven’t gotten my period in two months…”

Her eyes went wide as her jaw dropped, covering her mouth in disbelief. Your resting expression turned into one of squeezed panic, like a rabbit being held by its neck. A recollection of the events of the past few months came gushing back to you, and everything seemed to click into place like a gear shifting inside clockwork, finally striking on the answer. A shared sense of knowing settled between you two. 

“I thought I was just stressed?!” You seemed to bargain with the idea, attempting to grapple with any alternative explanation that wasn’t as severe as this. But Abigail pursed her lips and shook her head, confirming your fear. 

You supposed in all the years you and Javier had been together, this was something that was bound to happen. The topic of pregnancy and having children together wasn’t necessarily a topic that was out of the question, but it also wasn’t something you had anticipated happening to you so abruptly. Though it made sense, you could only have so much unprotected sex without conceiving a child; and you and Javier had done plenty of that. 

Another reason the idea never came fully into fruition during discussions was because you were both very well aware of the world around you. After having run away from Mexico, the two of you lived your lives constantly on the run. Coming into the country alone and not knowing the language, the two of you were all the other had. Living your life squalidly before finding some sense of stability within the Van Der Linde gang, but it had been years since then. You also knew raising a child in a gang environment wasn’t ideal, but Abigail had been doing it. Albeit with difficulty, but she had the entire gang there to support her. And you knew you’d have the same support system as well. 

Abigail remained by your side in hushed conversation, offering you any advice she had for your situation. She said you were fortunate to have a man who actually gave a damn about you, so you would definitely have his support there. But there was an underlying sense of apprehensiveness at what Javier’s response would be, one that neither of you wanted to acknowledge as to not entertain the possibility.

Abigail saw you off by allowing you to keep the shawl and tonic, wishing you the best of luck in telling Javier the news. She reminded you that regardless of his reaction, she’d have your back as well. You thanked her hurriedly, as Javier had begun to toss awake. You sat there by his side as he blinked sleep away, smiling at the fact that you were the first thing he saw when he awoke. 

“Buenos días, mi amor.” He croaked, his voice still hoarse from sleep. He slowly sat up from where he laid and rubbed his eyes. He gave you a second look, concern crossing his features and startling him awake. 

“You look so sick, are you okay?” He suddenly leaned forward, attempting to cradle you and check for anything that might indicate less than perfect conditions. His hand brushed your breast, making you audibly groan from pain. He reeled his hand back like a young child who just touched a stove, looking on in morbid confusion as if trying to figure out what exactly was the cause of your pain. 

“I’m just feeling a little nauseous this morning… and I’m a little sore too.” You tried to reassure him with a half hearted smile, contemplating when would be the right time to tell him. Not telling him simply wasn’t an option, after being together so long, it would be dishonest. Though when you told him one of your bodily symptoms was soreness, his mind seemed to go to the gutter as he slowly smirked. 

“Hm, guess I was a little too rough on you last night, no?” He laughed to himself as you groaned, pushing his face away to hide your blush. A reminder of what exactly got you into this situation.

The day was torturously slow. There seemed to be a constant veil over your consciousness that set you and reality five feet apart. Every action felt disconnected from your body, and it was only when you looked down at your belly, that you felt grounded once again. The idea of having a life growing inside you filled you with a fresh sense of panic, rattling through your rib cage and fully spreading through your shoulders in cold harshness. At times, you would think about your future excitedly, pondering all the different ways in which you and Javier would embrace parenthood. Though those thoughts would quickly become sour and twisted, a fork in the metaphorical line of thought forming as you fearfully included the possibility that Javier might react negatively. At some point you had even begun crying at the thought of your nearly decade long relationship ending, to which all of the camp girls and a few of the men would try to comfort you, asking over and over what was wrong. It was only until Javier came over to you that you blurted out the question “Do you still love me?!”

Of course, Javier was quick to comfort you, allowing you to blabber as many inconsequential questions as you wanted while he held you. And while he was definitely used to dealing with your emotional outbursts, he was a professional at it, he found their sudden consistency to be quite alarming. At some points he had begun questioning himself, whether he had done something wrong; to which you’d have to end up comforting him from. That or the two of you would confess your anxieties to each other tearfully while reassuring each other; it was rather theatrical.

As you changed into your nightdown that night, you stopped for a moment longer to look at the latent swell in your belly. You smiled widely and rubbed it, sighing contentedly before turning around to face Javier; your joy mixing unpleasantly with fear. Hurriedly, you changed (to which he insisted you stay undressed a little longer) before settling into your tent together. You were fidgety, unable to find a proper position to lay down comfortably. The hardness of your cot, something you had become used to, became ten times worse in your heightened state of awareness, the overstimulation turning you ill-tempered.

“Amor, what’s wrong?” He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it as if it would get the answer out of you. As if a switch had been flipped in you, triggered by the very question, your eyes began to water and your bottom lip began to tremble. Javier looked on in horror, thinking back on every word he’s ever said to you, overthinking his tone and inflection, reflecting on the past few days; he tried to find anything in between that might have caused you to become so emotional. You let out a wail as you sunk into his arms, confusing him to no end. 

“What happened?! Are you okay? Please, just talk to me.” Javier’s voice quivered as he begged, completely at a loss as to how he could help you. People from camp had begun to sound their concern outside your tent, asking if the two of you needed help or to ask what was wrong. Fed up with the unwanted attention, he led you outside of camp away from everyone’s curious eyes, whispering comforting words to you as he led you into the woods. 

He took your shoulders and turned you to face him before cupping your cheeks to tip your face upwards. Your melancholic expression felt like barbed wires squeezing his heart, and he pulled you into his chest for a hug. He shushed you soothingly, rubbing comforting circles on your back. After a few more moments of silent crying, you cleared your throat and sniffed. 

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted out, looking into his face to immediately catch any expression change. At first Javier’s eyes merely widened, his jaw opening in a way reminiscent of Abigail’s earlier. After a few seconds, he smiled widely, hugging you even tighter. The spreading anxiety within you diminished and was replaced by a flood of relief that made you feel ten times lighter. You wrapped your arms around him to return the hug. 

“Are you serious?! Amor, this is amazing I… I’m finally going to be a dad!” He exclaimed in a whisper. He looked like a kid who just received the best present on christmas morning, uncontrollably giddy from excitement. You smiled widely and wiped away your tears, nodding. 

“How long have you known?” 

“Well, I was speaking to Abigail about how I felt this morning and we deduced what was up with me and… I wanted to tell you soon because it was the right thing to do but I was also scared about how you’d react and I was just so nervous all day…” Your lip began to pout as more tears threatened to fall, but Javier wiped them away for you with his thumb. He leaned in to kiss you, your worries melting away like warm butter. Your body relaxed and released a tension you had not realized you had been holding onto. 

“We have to celebrate.” He suggested, smiling. 

“Right now?!” You giggled. 

“Yes absolutely, let me get my horse, we’ll go into town. I’ll treat you to something.” 

You had never felt happier as you watched Javier retrieve his horse, giggling when you watched him excitedly whisper into his horse’s ear about how he was going to be a father. Javier was the gentlest he had ever been as he helped you onto his horse, giving your knuckles a peck before getting on as well. You held onto his waist tightly as he spurred his horse into a gallop, and as you did, you felt his body tremble with excitement. You saw the low glow of Valentine as you approached the small town, the constant buzz of work having died down and turned in for the night. As people began winding down for the day, they ventured into bars or restaurants, buying the last of their errands at the general store, or resting up at the Saint’s Hotel. 

Javier had bought you a multitude of treats and food despite your insistence on him not spending money on you. He splurged a little extra on buying you the finest new clothes, cotton skirts and form fitting blouses (he claimed he wanted to be able to see your belly when it swelled better). He refused to drink that night, claiming he would join you in sober solidarity. For the last event of the night, Javier insisted he buy a room for the two of you to sleep in, saying he could not allow his dear pregnant wife to sleep on a hard cot. 

Though the two of you seemed to have other plans, because as soon as you entered the room, your hands were on each other. Your eager mouths united in a kiss that was far from sweet and gentle. Javier began pawing at your ass through your skirt as he sucked on your tongue and lips, catching your bottom lip between his teeth before pulling. 

As he undressed you vigorously, it appeared to you that the only reason he bought you the new clothes was to tear them off you immediately after. He nearly tore your bloomers off of you, leaving you stark naked as you sat on the bed. You laughed at Javier’s impatience as he threw his own vest off, followed by his shirt and jeans. And before long, he joined you in bed naked as well. He laid next to you and wasted no time in spreading your legs open, resting one of your legs atop his thighs. He prodded your lips with his middle and ring finger before pushing them into your mouth, shuddering at the feeling of your wet appendage circling his digits. He left his fingers in there for far longer than necessary, indulging in the feeling alone before retracting his hand, which still clung to your lips through a string of saliva. 

He spread your folds open and gave your clit a quick flick, before sliding his fingers down past your vulva and to your entrance. He let out an involuntary moan at the feeling of your wet warmth as he dipped his fingers in, the both of you sighing in satisfaction when he slid in down to the knuckle. 

“Fuck, you’re so warm… Can’t wait to be inside that tight cunt.” He whispered in your ear, the combined sensation of him fingering you and whispering into your ear causing you to shudder and mewl lewdly. He reached his thumb back and began rubbing your throbbing clit, and at the same time, connected his lips to your nipple. He kept in mind the sore state your breasts were in as he cupped one of them, kneading gently so as to not bring you any pain. But the light sting of soreness brought you some sort of pleasure, and your entire body began to squirm as Javier nibbled lightly on your nipple. You reached down towards his aching cock, which was leaking pre cum on the sheets below you (you felt bad for whoever it was that would be cleaning the sheets after tonight). You began stroking his throbbing erection, smearing his tip with your thumb, though your strokes were inconsistent and stuttered as he began fingering you harder, a smattering of your wetness soaking the sheets beneath your ass. 

“It’s so cute how flustered I can get you with just my fingers, (Name)..” He hissed into your ears, kissing your lobe and tracing kisses down your neck. His cock was left forgotten on his lap as he fingered you to completion, cumming all over his fingers and hand. You let out a high pitched wail, rocking your hips against his fingers as he helped you ride out your orgasm. 

“That’s it… Just like that… Such a good girl.” He smiled against your pulse before pressing a kiss to it. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the corners of your vision spotted as you came back down from your climax. Your breath was stolen once again when Javier captured you in a kiss, far more tender but equally as passionate. He mounted your quivering body, holding your thighs open with one hand as he held your hand with the other. You moaned wantonly when he teased your clit and hole with his tip.

“Can’t wait to give our child a little brother or sister to play with one day… until then I’ll keep fucking you raw. We’re gonna have so many kids together…” He slid in as he finished talking, his voice turning into a whimper. Your wetness allowed for easy entry as he bottomed out. 

There was a consistent wet slapping as Javier began fucking into you, throwing your legs over his shoulders. His expression was completely debauched, seemingly more aroused by the idea of permeating your womb with his cum. He shuddered at the very thought of you being pregnant, and was filled with a sense of anticipatory wonder and excitement when pondering the thought of expanding your family together. 

“You look so good, can’t wait to see your belly swell…” Javier threw his head back and his eyes slid slowly closed, wetting his lips with his tongue as though his words left a decadent taste on his lips. His hips pistoned into you with determination, and within a few minutes he ended up cumming. Though you barely registered the fact he did, as he kept thrusting into you. You groaned at the feeling of his cum seeping out of you, only to be fucked back inside by him. He scooped up any that escaped, claiming that it all needed to be inside you. A white halo formed at his base, and his fascination with watching his cock disappear into you bordered on obsession.

“Take all my cum.” He breathed into your ear, his breath hitching as he came again. The two of you laid there together, dissolving into a chorus of breathlessness as you tried to recollect yourselves. You both became an amalgamation of combined limbs as you embraced each other, not minding the intense body heat the both of you emitted, even if it became unbearable. 

“I love you, Javier…” You sighed, burying your face in his neck. He smelled of sweat and faintly of scented shampoos and products. 

“I love you too, amor.” He kissed your forehead. He made it a point to shift his hips into a more comfortable position to remain inside you, harboring some sort of irrational fear that if he slid out, you might somehow wake up not pregnant. 

He held you tight as you fell asleep, and oh, how quickly you gave in to exhaustion. His chest swelled with pride and excitement, and every time he felt himself getting closer to sleep, the thought of soon being a father made him skittish and ripped sleep away from him. And at once, all the violence and pain that it took to get to this point made sense.

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Let's Go To Bed - The Cure

[muiitoloko]

For Sinclair what if the reader is vulnerable and insecure because she’s not from the same world of him and feel inferior because she didn’t go to university and has a life pretty boring and chaotic (like unemployment and thing like that) and as he his someone important and relatively powerful from the upper class she’s afraid of him will finally get rid of her because she wrongly thinks she’s not enough ?

Title: In the Eyes of the Beholder

Summary: In his eyes you were everything.

Pairing: Sinclair Bryant × Fem!Reader

Warning: Smut

Author's Notes: Alright, folks, let's address the elephant in the room—I'll admit, this might not be my shining moment in the world of writing. Blame it on the pesky little gremlin known as writer's block. As usual, though, I'm all ears for any feedback you've got!

As you sat across from Sinclair in the cozy café where you first met, your mind was consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. You didn't know why, of all people, Sinclair chose you. He was everything you weren't - beautiful, wealthy, and intelligent. You, on the other hand, were just a simple waitress who hadn't even attended college.

Sinclair had a charm about him that was impossible to resist. Like a human golden retriever, he exuded warmth and affection, his infectious enthusiasm drawing you in from the moment you first met. He would come to the café regularly, striking up conversations with you that ranged from the mundane to the profound. It quickly became apparent that he loved to talk, and you found yourself captivated by his every word.

Despite your initial reservations, you couldn't help but be drawn to Sinclair. His kindness and genuine affection for you melted away your doubts, and before you knew it, you were swept up in a whirlwind romance.

But as your relationship with Sinclair blossomed, so too did your feelings of guilt and inadequacy. You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he deserved someone better than you. He had everything - a successful career, wealth, and a bright future ahead of him. You, on the other hand, struggled to make ends meet, living paycheck to paycheck in a small apartment.

You felt out of place in Sinclair's world, like an imposter pretending to belong. The stark contrast between his life of privilege and your humble existence only served to highlight your insecurities.

Yet, despite your fears and doubts, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of Sinclair. His love and affection filled a void within you that you never knew existed, and the thought of losing him was unbearable.

But beneath the surface, a nagging fear lingered - the fear that one day, Sinclair would realize that he could do better than you. That he would tire of your shortcomings and leave you behind, casting you aside like a forgotten relic of his past.

As you sat in the café, lost in your thoughts, Sinclair reached across the table and took your hand in his. His touch was warm and reassuring, a silent reminder that you weren't alone in your fears.

"Is everything alright, darling?" he asked, his voice soft and concerned.

You forced a smile, pushing aside your doubts for the moment. "Yes, everything's fine," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

But deep down, you knew that the shadows of doubt and insecurity would continue to haunt you until you found the courage to confront them head-on. Until then, you could only hold onto Sinclair's hand and hope that his love would be enough to see you through the storm.

As a customer walked through the café door, you quickly got up, slipping into work mode with practiced ease. Sinclair watched you go, a fond smile gracing his lips as he admired your efficiency and grace. He checked his wristwatch, noting that your shift would end soon, and he could finally take you to your apartment.

Settling back in his seat, Sinclair leafed through the magazine he had brought with him, his curiosity piqued by the articles within. He commented to himself about the interesting tidbits he found, his voice a constant hum of chatter that filled the quiet space of the café. He was never one to stay quiet for long, his enthusiasm for conversation infectious and endearing.

Lost in the pages of the magazine, Sinclair didn't even notice the hours passing by. He was thoroughly entertained, engrossed in the world of fashion and style until you interrupted him, now dressed in your normal clothes as your shift had ended.

Sinclair nodded, standing up eagerly as you approached, showing you the magazine with a child-like excitement. "Look at this, darling," he exclaimed, pointing to a particularly captivating article. "It's all about the latest trends in fashion. Isn't it fascinating?

You chuckled softly, amused by Sinclair's enthusiasm for fashion magazines. "I didn't know you were into reading about fashion," you remarked, teasing him gently as you walked outside together.

Sinclair shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes as he replied, "Oh, I just like reading all kinds of things. Fashion, technology, literature... you name it."

You couldn't help but tease him further, poking him playfully in the side. "So, does that mean you enjoy reading porn magazines too?" you quipped, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

Sinclair was quiet for the first time, looking at the fashion magazine in his hand with more interest than usual. You observed him, amused by the sudden shift in his demeanor, and couldn't help but notice his ears turning red, a sure sign that he was blushing.

With a good-natured laugh, you teased him. "How many Playboys do you have at home, Clair?" you joked, your playful tone bringing a smile to his face.

Sinclair protested, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "I'm not a pervert, darling," he protested, holding up the magazine defensively. "They're not Playboys, they're scientific journals discussing... um, intimate topics and different sexual positions."

You couldn't contain your laughter, the image of Sinclair with such magazines seeming utterly incongruous with his kind soul. Opening the door to your apartment, you ushered Sinclair inside before following him in.

As you settled into your cozy living space, you couldn't help but marvel at the complexity of Sinclair's character. He was a millionaire futurologist, a man of intellect and curiosity, yet there was a childlike innocence to him that never failed to charm you.

As Sinclair settled down on the couch next to you, you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection toward him. Pulling him close, you nestled into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You couldn't shake the curiosity about why he didn't share all the things he learned in those articles about sex, but you decided to let it slide for the moment.

Sinclair, sensing your closeness, nodded in agreement, his brown eyes meeting yours with a hint of uncertainty. "Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

You caressed his cheek tenderly, a gentle smile playing on your lips. It was a question he had asked countless times before, a testament to his respect for your boundaries and his genuine desire to make sure you were comfortable.

"You don't have to ask, Sinclair," you whispered, your voice filled with reassurance. "You know you can kiss me whenever you want."

With a relieved smile, Sinclair leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a tender, loving kiss. It was a familiar sensation, yet it never failed to send shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that only he could quell.

As the kiss deepened, Sinclair's hands began to explore your body, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. He caressed you slowly, his movements gentle and deliberate, as if savoring every moment with you.

Feeling emboldened by the intensity of the moment, you took control, straddling Sinclair as you deepened the kiss. Your hands roamed freely over his body, tracing the contours of his frame as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment.

Sinclair responded eagerly, his hands roaming over your body with a newfound sense of urgency. It was a dance of passion and desire, a symphony of love and longing that transcended words.

As the kiss finally broke, you rested your forehead against Sinclair's, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you gazed into his eyes. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you slid your hand under his shirt, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your fingertips. Sinclair's chest rose and fell with each breath, a rhythm that matched the quickening pace of your own heartbeat.

Feeling the few scattered hairs on his chest, you trailed your fingers lightly, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through his body. Sinclair let out a soft moan of pleasure, his grip on you tightening as he reveled in the sensation of your touch.

With a newfound boldness, you tugged at Sinclair's shirt, the fabric clinging to his skin as you peeled it away. Sinclair offered no resistance, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you with a hunger that matched your own.

As his shirt fell to the floor, you wasted no time in exploring his bare chest, pressing kisses along the expanse of his skin. Each touch elicited a gasp of pleasure from Sinclair, his hands roaming over your body in search of more.

But just as you were lost in the heat of the moment, Sinclair gently stopped you, his voice low and husky with desire. "Can I take control this time, darling?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered his request.

A wicked grin spread across your lips as you nodded in agreement, eager to see what Sinclair had in store. "Of course, Clair," you replied, your voice thick with anticipation. "I'm all yours."

With a confident smile, Sinclair stood up, his eyes filled with a hunger that mirrored your own. You eagerly clung to him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you to your bedroom. Each step was deliberate, as if he were savoring the anticipation of what was to come.

Gently placing you on the bed, Sinclair's hands moved with purpose as he began to undress you. With practiced ease, he unbuttoned your blouse, revealing the lacy bra underneath. His touch was electric, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through your body as he trailed his fingers along your skin.

Moving on to your jeans, Sinclair helped you slide them off, his gaze never leaving yours. You felt exposed, vulnerable, yet strangely exhilarated by his intense gaze. As you lay there in just your bra and panties, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious, the mismatched lingerie a stark reminder of your insecurities.

But as Sinclair looked at you, his eyes filled with adoration and desire, all your doubts faded away. In his eyes, you were a goddess, a vision of beauty and perfection that left him breathless.

As he leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft and hungry against yours, you felt a surge of desire coursing through your veins. Sinclair's hands trailed along the waistband of your panties, teasing and tantalizing as he explored every inch of your body with a hunger that matched your own.

With each touch, each kiss, you lost yourself in the heat of the moment, the world around you fading away as Sinclair ignited a fire within you that burned hotter than the sun. In that moment, there was only the two of you, lost in a symphony of passion and desire that knew no bounds.

As Sinclair whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his voice husky with desire, you surrendered yourself to him completely, knowing that in his arms, you were safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure.

"You know, darling," Sinclair began, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine, "I've always been fascinated by the intricacies of human desire and sexuality."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his typical segue into another of his rambling conversations. "Oh? And what exactly have you discovered in your studies?" you asked, a playful glint in your eyes as you indulged him.

Sinclair's grin widened, his excitement palpable as he launched into his explanation. "Well, you see, it's all about the psychology of desire, the interplay of hormones and neurotransmitters, and the myriad ways in which humans express their carnal instincts."

You listened intently, amused by Sinclair's earnest enthusiasm for the topic. "And where did you learn all of this?" you asked, genuinely curious about the source of his knowledge.

With a proud grin, Sinclair confessed, "From my extensive collection of sex magazines, of course!"

You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head in amusement as Sinclair continued to ramble on about the intricacies of human desire and sexuality. His enthusiasm was endearing, if not a little overwhelming at times. As you reached to undo his belt, Sinclair's voice faltered for a moment, his attention momentarily diverted by your playful actions.

With a playful grin, you teased him, "I think I'll have to conduct my own research to verify your findings, Mr. Bryant. "

Sinclair chuckled, his fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra as he tried to keep up with your teasing banter. Finally managing to undo it, he watched with a mixture of awe and desire as you slipped out of the straps, revealing your breasts to him.

His brown eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight before him, his breath catching in his throat. For a moment, he was speechless, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts and emotions.

But then, with a hungry look in his eyes, Sinclair finally fell silent as he leaned in to take one of your nipples in his mouth. You gasped in pleasure, arching your back as he suckled gently, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Moaning softly, you tangled your fingers in his blond hair, urging him closer as he lavished attention on your sensitive flesh. Sinclair's touch was electric, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment.

As Sinclair lavished attention on your sensitive flesh, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, you couldn't help but moan softly, your breath hitching with each flick of his tongue. His blond hair tickled your skin as he continued his ministrations, his mouth hot against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Feeling emboldened by the intensity of the moment, you let out a low whimper, your fingers digging into Sinclair's scalp as you urged him closer. His baritone voice whispered sinful promises against your skin, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through your veins.

As Sinclair's hands roamed over your body, his touch ignited a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his, desperate for more of his intoxicating touch.

With a hunger that matched your own, Sinclair explored every inch of your body, his lips trailing down your torso as he worshipped you with a reverence that left you breathless. Each kiss, each caress, sent bolts of pleasure racing through you, building the tension to an unbearable crescendo.

As his lips closed around your other nipple, sucking and teasing with expert precision, you couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips. Sinclair's touch was electrifying, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

With trembling hands, you reached for the waistband of his pants, eager to return the favor and drive him to the brink of ecstasy. As you teased the fabric, Sinclair let out a low growl of desire, his hips bucking against your touch as he urged you on.

With a wicked grin, you slipped your hand beneath his boxers, feeling the hardness of his arousal against your palm. Sinclair gasped in pleasure, his breath hot against your skin as you stroked him slowly, savoring the feel of him in your hand.

But Sinclair held your wrist gently, his touch a silent plea for you to pause. As he stood up, he released your hand and began to remove his pants and underwear, kicking them aside with practiced ease. You followed suit, shedding your underwear and tossing them aside as Sinclair returned to the bed, his gaze never leaving yours.

Settling back onto the bed, Sinclair reached for you, pulling you close as he began to speak. His voice was a soothing rumble, a comforting presence in the midst of your swirling emotions.

"Thank you for being with me, darling," he began, his voice soft and sincere. "I don't know what I would do without you. You mean everything to me."

Confusion clouded your thoughts as you listened to his words. How could he be thanking you? You were nothing compared to him, a simple waitress with nothing to offer but your love.

Sinclair must have sensed your turmoil, for he reached out to gently wipe away the tears that streamed down your cheeks. "You are everything to me," he murmured, his voice laced with tenderness. "You've given me something I never thought I would find – true love."

His words struck you to the core, a wave of emotion washing over you as you struggled to comprehend the depth of his feelings. How could someone like Sinclair, with all his charm and intelligence, consider himself lucky to have you?

"I don't understand," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't deserve you, Sinclair."

But Sinclair shook his head, his eyes filled with conviction as he spoke. "No, darling, it's the other way around. I finally found someone who loves me for who I am, not for what I have."

Tears continued to flow freely down your cheeks as you listened to his heartfelt words. In that moment, you felt overwhelmed by the magnitude of his love, humbled by his unwavering devotion to you.

Sinclair reached out to cup your face in his hands, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Please don't cry, my love," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "You are everything to me, and I am grateful for every moment we share together."

His words were like a balm to your wounded soul, soothing the doubts and insecurities that had plagued you for so long. In Sinclair's arms, you felt safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure.

With a trembling smile, you leaned in to kiss him, pouring all your love and gratitude into the tender gesture. In that moment, there were no doubts, no fears – only the overwhelming certainty that you were exactly where you were meant to be, in the arms of the man who loved you more than life itself.

[myloveforhergoeson]

That's All She Wrote - Chapter 31

Chapter Index

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Chapter 31: The Music Or The Misery ~ 15k

“Mr. Rocque, Kelly, please,” Roxanne pleaded, shaking fingers threaded, palms pressed together. She would’ve gotten down on her knees to beg if she, the band, and their two bosses weren’t already in the back of the limousine headed to Brand New Day’s album release party. “The Big Time Rush booking fee is for interviews and photoshoots, and- and millionaire’s birthday parties. Not for an advertising campaign for a band no one has ever heard of!” 

Though she winced at her desperate tone of voice, she hoped one final appeal would make the two adults change their minds. Despite spending the last 24 hours making similar statements since Gustavo’s call at the movie theater, neither of them had budged in their decision for the band to attend the party. She’d even taken the fight all the way to Griffin’s office, sitting atop the Rocque Records building and adorned in the strangest taxidermy the assistant had ever seen, hoping that even he would think it an odd request. 

Turns out that had been a mistake; Roxy had severely underestimated how much Griffin seemed to like her. America’s fourth most powerful CEO was no better than his money-hungry adversaries and deep down she knew that… She just wanted someone other than her friends to take her feelings into account just this once. 

With Griffin’s word as law, and whatever Gustavo was afraid of in Obdul’s briefcase when the tall man tapped on it, the band was set to attend the gathering and adhere to Brand New Day’s request. 

When Kelly sighed, shifting her gaze from the soft glow of her BlackBerry in the back of the dark limo to the writer, she just slowly shook her head. “You heard Griffin earlier, Roxy. They’re paying customers and Rocque Records has a contract to fulfil. As much as you dislike these boys-”

“These two,” The assistant automatically corrected, feeling James’ hand slide onto her shoulder as the limo turned a corner. “These two,” Kelly continued after a brief pause, “There’s a lot of money at stake here.”

That was the same answer the talent scout had given her all day - the same corporate talk about contract fulfillment, legal obligation, and reputation. Bullshit. 

 “Griffin said we have to,” Gustavo added in a flat tone, red glasses matching the tint of a neon sign zooming by outside the window behind him, suggesting that he wasn’t all too thrilled with the night before them either. “So we have to. Set aside whatever crap has you all up in a twist about this party! It’s only a few hours, okay?” 

With a huff, Roxy crossed her arms and pushed back into her seat, watching the endless stream of cars out the tinted window beside the man’s head. Most of the time she and Gustavo were on the same page, especially when it came to breaking down emotional barriers in the writer’s room. If he was able to help her draw out the words to place on the page when she was struggling in the past, why was he so incapable of seeing her irritation now? 

“We’ll be okay, Rox!” From across the way, Carlos reached out to pat her knee, welcome warm contact on skin that felt as cold as ice. The charm from the bracelet she’d made him for Christmas jingled around his wrist. “The night will be over before you know it!”

Carlos’ optimism never ceased to amaze Roxy; She wished she could feel even a small portion of it at the present, but her confusing amalgamation of fear and anger had been busy building up in her system all day. Too much time had already been wasted worrying about Mag and Dani since they’d moved to Hollywood. Past memories playing in her head like a bad movie plagued her dreams, causing her to reach out for James in the darkness of her bedroom, only for the emptiness to creep in when she remembered a few walls separated them in 2-H and 2-J. Horrible flashes of whatever may transpire tonight took hold of her imagination when she was awake, only fueling the fire of emotions rooted in her belly. 

And even that felt ridiculous because Mag and Dani were just people she used to be friends with, not the supervillains of epic proportions her mind was making them out to be. The hurt and confusion then mingled with shame for expecting the worst from them, dragging up situations in which they’d looked out for her at local gigs or sat up and listened to her complain on the phone all hours of the night while she tried to work out a new tune or melody. All the fun they’d had playing together, advertising for their band wherever they could, and drawing up big plans to hit the big time together.

Then, the cycle of emotions started anew, because if they were such great people, how could they so easily take her work and pass it off as their own? How could they be Brand New Day without her?

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Roxy tilted her head back into the hard headrest, focusing on the hum of the limo’s engine since she’d been too fatigued to pick a radio station, and took a deep breath in an attempt to stave off the emotional overload.

Beside Carlos, messing with the material of his lap belt, Kendall nodded at his friend’s words. “Just a few photos for the news outlets and some social media posts saying how much we love the new album, then we’re so far out of here everyone will forget about Brand New Day in a week.”

Though both of them knew that the last part probably wouldn't be true, Roxy wanted to believe it anyway. Internally, she cursed her past self for all the time and effort she’d put into promoting Brand New Day to friends, strangers, and whoever would listen, wishing she could take back all the wishes on shooting stars in clear Minnesota skies that one day they’d blow up and get to move out of their nothing town. 

Too little, too late, the girl thought, feeling the unpleasant sting of her nails cutting into her palm as they balled into tight fists in her lap. At least we all got what we wanted in the end.

James must have noticed her discomfort; The hand on her shoulder trailed down her arm to unwind the mess she might have made of her palm with her fresh manicure. 

“You also… Don’t have to come…” Logan tried to add but quickly winced when Roxy countered his comment with a nasty glare. 

“Are you kidding me? I’m the only one who knows what those two are like! This is all part of their plan-” 

“Roxanne.” Gustavo cut her off with a grating exhale of her name, which was probably a good thing, because as far as she knew, there was no plan. For a few seconds, the humming of the engine was the only sound heard between the seven. “Being in the entertainment industry means sometimes you have to do things you don’t like to do. Do you think I enjoy playing babysitter for the five of you? No! But if I want to stay Hollywood’s number one producer, that’s what I have to do!”

“Oh, stop it Gustavo, you flatter us too much!” Kendall gasped with a sarcastic smile in a clear attempt to ease some of the tension radiating off of his boss and assistant, which calmed Roxy only slightly. At least one of them was able to keep a level head at the present. “We all know you love us too much but simply can’t admit it - out loud or otherwise.”

Grumbling something under his breath, Gustavo turned to look at Kelly’s BlackBerry, signifying Kendall had won that part of the conversation for now. 

The frontman looked over to her too, for approval or something else she wasn’t sure, but she did catch the upward quirk of his lips. Momentarily, some of the tension left her body and she finally let her head rest on her boyfriend’s shoulder. If there was one thing she could count on tonight, it was her four friends. 

Like it or not, this was happening, so she might as well suck it up and be the bigger person. In public at least; The big tub of chocolate chip ice cream in her freezer and the floor of her kitchen were already calling her name no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. 

Even if it wasn’t his intention, Roxy found comfort in Kendall’s subtle smirk. As good as friends Mag and Dani had been to her in the past, their bond didn’t even come close to the one she shared with the Big Time Rush boys and her new friends at the Palm Woods. So, she took it as a sign. One that screamed “We’ve got your back, Roxy! Always!” in bright, flashy colors, big enough to rival the magnitude of the Hollywood sign looking out over the city they so loved. 

Maybe James had noticed it too, his hand tightening in hers before pressing a light kiss into her hair. The two savored the last bit of physical contact they’d have before the prying eyes of everyone at the party because neither of them needed to add a potential relationship exposé to the list of things that might happen that evening. “Everything will be alright, baby. I promise.”

***

Bright, blinding flashes of light escaped the cameras of the photographers lined up in front of the party venue, giving Roxy the perfect opportunity to slip out of the limousine’s right door while her friends took up the attention from the left. 

Whoever had arranged this album release had gone to a lot of trouble to ensure there was mass media coverage, so the assistant figured she might as well use that fact to her advantage. No one cared about the people behind the scenes as long as celebrities were present. 

The chill of the Los Angeles winter air didn’t bite as much as it did back in Minnesota and Roxy’s nose wrinkled at the bitter scent of gasoline as the limo pulled away from the curb. Folding her arms over one another did little to curb the goosebumps forming over her skin; The temperature and her onslaught of unpleasant emotions were working in tandem to make her as uncomfortable as possible. 

While the boys took their time walking down the black carpet rolled outside the venue doors, it gave the writer some time to scope the place out before entering. From the outside, the building appeared somewhat run-down - chipping white paint revealing dark brown metal underneath, lights on the outer walls flickering, cracks in the sidewalk - but based on the other buildings around which were styled with the impeccable glamor of Hollywood, she figured it must have been made to give off the air of abandonment. 

People from Los Angeles are so weird…

However, the venue called back memories of the ancient dives and abandoned warehouses the punks of Duluth would take over for nights at a time, constructing makeshift stages in rooms covered baseboard to ceiling in graffiti to play shows. She, Mag, and Dani had only been to a handful of gigs like that, mostly preferring to stick to the basement and small local music venue circuits, but warehouse shows had been something they’d talked about doing more before the band’s untimely breakup. 

Brand New Day was already one album in and still getting to accomplish even more of the goals they’d made ages ago. 

Kelly and Gustavo trailed a few feet behind the boys, showing the invitation they’d received at Rocque Records last night to the doormen, and Roxy a few feet behind them, presenting her own hand-delivered invitation. The processes seemed far too formal for her taste, considering the three of them used to crash house shows uninvited all the time.  

The inside of the venue wasn’t starkly different from the outside, it still had the same general theming but was paid far more attention to. While not as large as a commercial building, it was slightly larger than the two dance studios of Rocque Records put together; There was a moderate amount of guests present. Around her, the white walls practically shone, as though they’d been scrubbed twenty times over, the wooden floor was waxed to perfection, and the high ceilings made it perfect for the chatter of the party patrons to carry appropriately while not making the space seem too packed. 

If she had to wager, she’d bet Mag and Dani weren’t given creative control, like Big Time Rush wasn’t at their first album release party, and their producer had likely taken that duty on to impress investors, Galactic Records employees, and even fans.

Fans, Roxy’s mind echoed, causing an unpleasant lump to lodge itself in her throat. Eyes sweeping over the floor allowed her to spot a table filled to the brim with drinks and hors d'oeuvres, likely her next stop, a makeshift stage in the back of the venue with a dance floor cordoned off, an area with tables and chairs, and a section where a long line of teens who didn’t look much older than her and her friends were lined up. In front of the line, a small plastic table, piled high with CD jewel cases, and, of course, Mag and Dani, chatting with attendees, signing autographs, and taking pictures with each and every person in line.  

It probably would have been a good idea to listen to the album before attending the party, just to know which of her private thoughts were currently being aired out in the world in the form of music, but when she’d opened up SnoobTube and saw “Heartswell Summer” on the home page, she’d slammed the device shut so fast she feared she may have shattered the screen. 

When it came to Big Time Rush and their musical accolades, Roxy tended to ignore what she could. She had no idea how many of their songs had been promoted by SnoobTube, the number of streams their songs had earned, the types of rankings on Billboard charts - Except for “Til I Forget About You” which James told her almost entered the Hot 100 - or the fan favorites. Music taste was so personal and subjective, she didn’t want to learn how the public felt about her own favorite Big Time Rush songs or which ones were more popular than others. 

If she were to start caring about meaningless numbers and public perception, she feared she would lose sight of the real reason she wrote songs and forgo personal art and expression for the sake of others. At their audition, she’d promised Gustavo she wasn’t interested in working for him for money or fame; That was a vow she intended to keep. 

Mag and Dani on the other hand, seemed to have lost sight of that already, basking in the attention their fans were giving them at the signing table as she glanced over one final time before making her way to the refreshments. 

The band and their bosses were somewhere on the other side of the venue curating the social media posts they’d been contracted to make, leaving the assistant to her own devices. Everything would be fine if her friends stayed on the opposite side and the other two stayed at the table until the performance Mag had mentioned at her door the other night. 

Whatever it took for this night to end, she’d be happy with. 

At the very least, whoever was catering the event had a wonderful array of delicious-looking foods on display. The smell of freshly baked bread and sweets curled around the assistant’s nose - so aromatic she envisioned herself floating over to the table like a character in a Sunday morning cartoon. Though attempting to enjoy herself this evening felt like a long shot, this was a good place to start. 

From the white tablecloth, Roxy took a small plate and piled it high with as many sweet things as she could find. Even if she and her old friends didn’t have too much in common anymore, it seemed as though she’d be able to rely on their superior taste in deserts for just one night. 

With a comical amount of food stacked up - Roxy told herself it was all to share with the boys because that’s what a good assistant would do - when she got to the end of the gorgeous display, she spied a brownie that she absolutely needed to have and reached for it. 

“Roxanne?” someone asked from behind her, and the writer slowly around, feeling like she’d been caught in the middle of something she shouldn’t have been doing. “I see you haven’t changed one bit!”

Eyes landing on the teenager in front of her, the fake smile Roxy’d been forcing all night slowly loosened into a real one. “Sydnee?”

The bright purple blush on Sydnee’s cheeks stood out against the brown rose of her cheeks, just as colorful as the rest of her outfit. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”

Neither was Roxy, admittedly, but why wouldn’t Dani’s girlfriend fly out for her partner’s album release party? 

Though the chuckle she let out was humorless, the assistant set her plate down and wrapped the far taller girl into a hug. Despite her issues with her old band, that was no reason to hold a grudge against those who had fallen out of her life because of it. She just wished she’d realized she might have to see others from her past at the party before running into them. “I was in the area. And the band I work for got an invite, so…”

Sydnee squeezed her back with such intensity Roxy feared one of her ribs might crack. “Now that I think about it, Dani mentioned you were staying in the same hotel! So, what? Got your big break after leaving the band? Have I heard any of your stuff on the radio?”

The question wasn’t meant to be condescending, and nothing in Sydnee’s tone made it sound that way, but Roxy was just the right mix of anxious and stressed to take it as such. Thanking the musical gods Sydnee didn’t ask her why she left the band, she took a breath and answered. 

“Not on any of the stations you listen to,” Smile faltering, she referred to Sydnee’s love of reggaeton. “Daddy Yankee and I don’t run in the same circles.” 

As if it were the funniest joke in the world, the other girl tilted her beautiful features back, a handful of long, lilac-beaded braids falling over her shoulders as they shook. “Come on! You know I’m all about Today’s Top 40 when those two fools aren’t around.” 

Thumb jerking in the direction of the signing table, the euphoria of seeing an old friend was virtually eliminated when Roxy remembered the real reason she was there. The both of them still had a huge line of fans to get through; Currently engaged with a pair of teenage girls at the signing table. 

“My fools are over there,” She shared, pointing in the opposite direction of the party space, where James, Kendall, Carlos, and Logan were all posing for a photo Kelly was taking, each one of them holding a copy of the album Barely Hanging On.

Even the title of the album had been ripped right from the pages of her book. 

Stone brown eyes following her finger, Sydnee’s eyes widened.

Inadvertently, Roxy held her breath, waiting for the usual reaction she’d get when offhandedly mentioning she worked for Big Time Rush to the new, young Palm Woods residents, but it never came. 

“No way! A three-piece band to a five-piece? You must finally have a bass player!”

More than once, Sydnee had made fun of her partner and friends back in Minnesota for their startling lack of a bassist. The jokes about them “almost being a real band” used to bother Roxy quite a bit, but these days, it certainly didn’t matter to her anymore.

Hands drawing around her waist, Roxy found herself looking down at the linoleum tile. “It’s just the four of them, actually. Having a girl around kind of defeats the entire purpose of a boy band. My role is more behind the scenes, writing, producing, assisting… But I’m part of the touring band!”

“Oh… A boy band? Wow…” Sydnee’s eyes flickered, dimples disappearing momentarily before she drew up another smile just as quickly. “That must be fun. I’m happy for you, Roxy.”

Just as the girl opened her mouth to thank her friend, she continued. 

“It’s just disappointing knowing I won’t see you, Mag, and Dani rocking out like I used to. Hard to believe you’d give up your own band for some assistant job.” 

A slap to the face might have been nicer than the insinuation that Roxy was a sell-out. The look on her face must have communicated her emotions, despite the daze swirling around her brain, as Sydnee’s brows shot up, hands flying out in front of her and waving wildly as she cried, “Sorry! I didn’t mean that in a bad way!”

I knew coming to this thing was a bad idea.

Sour taste entering her mouth, the assistant nearly gagged on her own spit as she tried to come up with something to say back - an excuse to end the conversation, some fake pleasantries, a question about the weather, anything - until Logan called her name from behind her. 

In an instant, the boys who had been busy creating their contracted advertisement swarmed around her; Carlos picking up the plate she’d left on the table and munching on one of the gigantic chocolate cookies she’d been stacking up before getting roped into the conversation with Sydnee.

Their first meeting had been at a party too, Roxy recalled, back during their freshman year. While Mag and Dani weren’t party people, the third of their trio was, and she’d been invited by one of the junior varsity cheerleaders in her English class to a kickback after the first football game of the season. Too afraid to go alone, she asked the other two to come as well. 

Mag had agreed to attend at Roxy’s promise it would be good to scope out which of the people at their high school might be interested in coming to one of their shows and Dani had agreed if they could bring their partner. So, introduced for the first time in the cheerleader’s crowded living room, the two girls danced the night away while the other two kept to themselves in the kitchen. 

While they certainly weren’t best friends, they were always friendly with each other, or so Roxy had thought, until Sydnee’s backhanded statement moments ago. 

“Hey!” Carlos greeted, sweet as ever, while some crumbs trailed down his front. Turning to his assistant, he questioned, “Who’s this?” 

Now outnumbered, Sydnee shot Roxy a sympathetic smile, sorry for how her words had come out. Regardless, Roxy brushed it off like usual, but the comment only added to her emotional pile-up. Tonight wasn’t about starting fights; Big Time Rush was collecting a check and getting out as quickly and painlessly as they could. 

“Boys, this is Sydnee Vélez, an old friend,” Pausing for emphasis on that last word, Roxy smiled so hard her cheeks began to ache. “She and Dani have been together, for, like, ever. Isn’t it sweet she flew all the way from Duluth to support them tonight?” 

One by one, they introduced themselves to the newcomer, more than happy to make a new acquaintance. 

From there, the boys were able to carry on the conversation as they moved to the seating area, and Roxy was able to zone out and take stock of the venue now that the party guests were starting to settle in. The line at the signing table had finally died down, Mag and Dani still sitting behind the black tablecloth as they talked about whatever, laughter carrying across the hall. Most of the fans were lingering around the roped-off dance floor in front of the stage, hoping to be as close to the barricade as possible for Brand New Day’s first performance post-album release. 

Gustavo and Kelly were socializing over at the tables set up by the refreshments, presumably networking with Galactic Record’s finest songwriters and producers though Roxy knew that they’d likely never speak again after this party ended… 

A pair of adult men who looked suspiciously like the Madden brothers walked in front of her, blocking her view of her bosses.

Ugh…

A bit beyond them, she noticed Mr. and Mrs. Huron, sitting together at one of the smaller tables, beaming with pride. Dani’s features looked almost exactly like their parents; Sharing the same long, straight brown hair, brilliant green eyes, and ochre complexion. The two of them were locked in conversation with Ms. McAllister, who wore a similar expression on her pale, sunken face. Unlike the Hurons, Mag and his mother were almost physical polar opposites, her wavy, straw-blonde hair didn’t come close to matching Dani’s midnight black curls, nor did his round cheeks compare to the hollowness of his mother’s. 

Between the two women, Mr. Huron was doing his best to translate their conversation into sign language for his wife and spoken word for Ms. McAllister.

Though none of the three adults had been thrilled at the band’s beginning, apparently it had finally paid off enough for them to show some support for their children’s careers. Roxy remembered long conversations with her friends, the two of them complaining about how their parents had forced them to aim for “realistic” aspirations, like Mag’s mother signing him up for an internship at the healthcare company she worked for, or how the Hurons had practically forbade Dani from playing shows toward the beginning of the band’s timeline. 

All things that, to the writer, seemed entirely ridiculous. Why allow your child to cultivate such an impressive musical skill and then try to clip their wings the moment they decide to pursue that instead of something conventional? 

That’s exactly what her grandparents had done to her father; There’s a reason he hadn’t spoken to either of them in seventeen years.

As much as Roxy couldn’t stand the two, no one could deny that Dani was an incredible, dedicated musician. There was hardly a time they were seen without drumsticks in their hands. They used to drive teachers crazy with their relentless tapping on desks while they lectured. 

Mag’s effortless skill on the guitar while wowing the crowd with his fine-tuned and captivating voice was no small feat either. Like the boys in Big Time Rush, he was a natural-born performer, craving the spotlight more than anything else in the world. 

The two of them were beyond talented; While they were all still friends it was hard to stand by and watch their parents try to convince them otherwise. 

Should I go say hi? The girl contemplated, turning to see her friends laughing at something Sydnee had said, before remembering the last time she’d seen the Hurons they’d busted the three of them for having a gig in their basement when they thought they’d be going away for the weekend. Ms. McAllister wasn’t her biggest fan either; Roxy had driven one too many needles into her son’s ears, lips, and nose to think she was a good influence on her “sweet boy.” 

Absentmindedly, her fingers rose to fiddle with her earrings, thinking of the piercings he’d given her in return. Then, she wondered if Mag or Dani had thought to send her father an invite to the party.��

Of all their parents, he’d been the one to foster their creative talent - Driving them to shows, helping them load and unload gear, and giving his input when necessary. Should there be anyone Brand New Day needed to thank for getting off the ground and breaking into the industry, it was Declan Somerset. 

Roxy blinked, figuring she should call her dad and tell him how much she loved him when this whole ordeal was over. 

“Psst,” Someone whispered from behind her, saving her from a stroll farther down memory lane. God forbid she start to remember the good times she’d had with her old friends. 

When she turned, Roxy found herself face to face with Carlos, still holding the plate he’d picked up from her earlier. Contagious grin reaching out to her, he shared, “One video of the live performance and a video with the band afterward and we’re out of here.”

“Oddly specific contract requirements but, that’s good.” The girl wasn’t able to say much beyond what she needed to. “Hopefully they’ll finish the…”

Line of sight reaching the signing table, the writer noticed the line had dissipated and Mag and Dani were nowhere to be seen. All of the fans were beginning to crowd around the stage now that they were allowed on the dance floor, pushing and shoving at one another to try and be on the barricade line and have the best view of Brand New Day’s performance of their first album.

Carlos followed her gaze. “Oh, yeah! Sydnee said they’re going to start up soon - Apparently, Dani is very good on the drums. She’s excited to see the energy they’ll bring tonight.”

“They’re one of the best…” Roxy swallowed the rest of her compliment.

“Why don’t you come and join us until then?” He suggested, pushing the plate in the direction of the rest of the band; Logan appeared to be in the middle of recounting a story, arms waving wildly as he spoke. In return, Sydnee gasped, covering her mouth with her palm. That was when James and Kendall jumped in, attempting to speak over each other to recount the next part of their tale. “When they’re done she said she’d tell us all about you before we met!”

Internally, the assistant cringed, wanting to cause any sort of distraction to keep that from happening. Maybe I’m strong enough to pull the tablecloth out from under the food…?

Instead, Roxy just shook her head at his comment, racking her brain for any kind of excuse to get her out of talking to Sydnee again. “I think I’m going to use the restroom actually… Look out for James for me, would you?” 

Taking a bite of one of the iced brownies, the boy in front of her nodded, “Sure thing, Rox. Holler if you need anything.”

Just as she went to turn away from him, she noticed James trying to get her attention from where he stood a few feet away. 

Hi! His wave indicated, before he tried to beckon her back over with the curling of few fingers.

No thanks! She willed back, taking a slow blink before pointing her thumb to the side, attempting to share, Be right back. 

Chin jutting out, she watched as his eyes flickered back to Sydnee, still showing interest in their conversation, before he placed his palm to his mouth and blew his girlfriend a kiss. See you soon.

Of course you will, I can’t stay away from you. Roxy thought, unsure of how to convey that beyond pretending to catch the imaginary kiss and place it on her cheek. 

Now flushed pink, she planted herself on the edge wall of the venue and followed it until she came upon a small hallway with the icon of a man and a woman hanging from a sign above the entry and decided that was good enough. 

As long as she could hang out away from the crowd for a little while, she figured she’d be able to coast through the rest of the night incident-free. No Sydnee, no Mag and Dani, no parents - Just her and her head, racing at approximately a thousand miles per minute. 

Maybe Logan was right, she silently concluded, finding herself in front of the washroom mirror. Dark bags were setting in under her eyes. A cooling splash of water from the sink to her face would’ve done wonders to calm her down, but it would come with the price of ruining the makeup she’d spent an hour trying to perfect. I don’t need to be here.

Too much time had been spent worrying about others in the hours leading up to this party; Just the thought of the boys and Brand New Day interacting tonight was able to launch her into a tailspin. In all that time, she hadn’t even thought to step back and judge how her attendance would take a toll on her as well. 

But the night’s almost over, she reminded herself, and on the way home, you can convince James to call out of work tomorrow and go on an adventure.

Yeah. That sounded nice. Deserved.

And that was enough to calm her pounding heart, watching her chest start to rise and fall normally under the burnt sienna of her halter top in the reflection. 

You will get through this. You always do.

Roxy ran a few fingers through her hair, smoothing it down at the part before taking both her hands and poofing it up, running her nails lightly back and forth across her scalp - Shaking out the negative thoughts and feelings stirring around up there. 

Now, her goal as she made her way out of the restroom and back over to her friends was to avoid anything else that might ruin her newfound good mood, as she pulled out her phone and googled “Most romantic things to do in Los Angeles” to pitch some ideas to James.

If she’d waited even a second longer before burying her nose and weaving through the mass of people in front of her, she would’ve caught sight of the untapped cable that had been laid to the stage directly in the middle of her path back to her friends. 

Without warning, the toe of her ankle boots slipped under the thick wire and as she mindlessly scrolled the webpage she found it caught. Cable growing taught, it completely restricted her movement.

Stomach lurching as she began to hurtle forward, Roxy let out an involuntary yelp, one hand clutching her phone while the other flailed helplessly as she went down, down, down… Right into the chest of the person standing on the path in front of her. 

Calloused fingers dug into her upper arm to steady her while her cheek landed on the leather lapel of a jacket adorned with dozens of buttons and pins. 

PROUDLY SERVING MY CORPORATE MASTERS read the white text on a blue background, encased in a small circular button right in her line of sight and Roxy let out a string of curses, scrambling to pick herself up and shove the person off her as quickly as possible. 

When she’d found that button at a thrift store in Duluth, she’d thought it a funny gift, but now, pinned to Mag’s jacket at his first album release party under one of America’s largest record labels, she felt as though the satirical element might have been lost on him. 

“Wow, now that’s one way to say ‘thank you,’” The boy joked, cracking an award-winning smile down at his former bandmate. “But I’m glad we ran into each other, actually-”

“I was just leaving,” Roxy cut him off, pointing vaguely at the space behind him. Eyes trailing to the side of him, she couldn’t even bear to look up at the singer as they spoke. “My friends are back there, somewhere.”

The sooner this conversation was over, the better.

Shaking out his fingers before crossing his arms, Mag let out a small hum barely discernable over the chatter of the crowd surrounding them. “Glad they got our invitation too! Of course, it wasn’t quite like yours… But it’s nice to see all of you showing up to support us. Did you get a chance to pick up a copy of the album yet?” 

“No sense in wasting twenty bucks on a CD I won’t use.” Channeling her best inner Dani impression, she let out what she hoped came off as an unbothered scoff.

As the girl took a step forward, trying to signal the end of the conversation, Mag took a step back. “Just hang on a second! I’ve got one here…” His hands fell from his chest and patted down his pockets with a few soft thuds. “Somewhere…”

Out of his inner jacket pocket, he produced the jewel case containing Barely Hanging On and extended it out to her. The cover featured a photoshopped image of the two of them, cartoonish expressions of horror on their faces as they pretended to hold onto the top of the H in the Hollywood sign. 

As he requested, Roxy reluctantly took the CD, hoping he couldn’t see the way her hands had worked up a slight tremor. Assuming that was all, she once more tried to continue on her way. 

“Hang on! Check the booklet, Rox. I left a little surprise for you in there.” 

The use of her nickname sent a sheen of sweat unpleasantly rolling down her back; He’d lost the right to call her that long ago and no matter how many times she kept reminding him, he just couldn’t seem to remember. That in combination with whatever he thought to point out as surprise-worthy and the girl was beginning to grow queasy as well. “I’ll find out later. Excuse me.”

 On her third attempt to maneuver around the boy in front of her, she made the mistake of glancing his way and finding the unyielding attention of his bright blue eyes, vast and endless. The kind of fixating gaze someone would love to get lost in.  

I can’t believe that used to work on me, she chastised her past self, cringing at how she’d misinterpreted their friendship and built it up to be far more inside her head. A year and a half ago, she’d be clamoring for any crumb of attention he could give her, and now it was as easy blowing him off as it was to breathe. Life’s funny like that…

“Please?” Mag inquired, a few of his black curls sweeping over his eyes as he tapped on the case with a black painted nail. “Think of it as a peace offering if nothing else.”

“A peace offering?” 

Immediately, not knowing what took control of her hands, Roxy popped the case open and slid out the insert, the picture of Mag and Dani staring back at her as she tucked the plastic under her arm and flipped through the small book. Going along with the theme of the cover image, the pages containing the lyrics, acknowledgments, and legal elements were stylized to look like a map of the Hollywood Hills. Mixed in along the way were photos, some she recognized from their early days as a band and others that appeared to have been taken throughout their journey in L.A. 

Nothing in particular stood out to her, so she kept her place using her thumb and used the paper to smack Mag on the shoulder. “Dude, whatever-”

That felt more casual than she’d liked, but she didn’t spend too much time dwelling on the action before he spoke again. “The credits?”

Roxy blinked up at him, mind going blank. 

Opening the booklet again, she could hardly get her vision to focus as she followed the line of text down the first page for the opening song, from the title to the lyrics to the compositional credits. It was there, in shiny black bold letters.

Lyrics and guitar composed by Roxanne Somerset.

Line of sight jumping over to the next page for the second song, there it was again, and on the third, the fourth, all the way through the complete tracklist. 

It must have been nearly impossible for her to contain the shock on her face, and judging by the cheery laugh escaping Mag’s lips, he found the way she tore through the book to look at every song to find her name underneath entirely amusing. 

“I just wanted to apologize,” He shared, “What happened the day you left the band was entirely my fault… You’d still be here with us if I hadn’t been such a complete ass. So, this is a thank you, an apology, and hopefully, a way to start making up as well - Our manager said she’d talk with your boss tonight and make sure all the writing copyright and royalties and whatever else goes to you.”

“Mag, I…” Roxy was at a complete loss. Ever since Brand New Day had unexpectedly moved to the Palm Woods she’d been worried about the two of them passing off her work as their own, skyrocketing to the top of the pop rock charts without so much as a thought about how it might have affected her. “You still took my songs. I wasn’t there for recording or mixing or-”

“I know. We fucked up, Rox, big time, but you know how badly we needed out of Duluth.” He looked up to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. “All three of us were bigger than that stupid, stifling town.”

Taking the case from where she tucked it under her arm, Roxy popped it back open and slid the insert back inside. “That doesn’t make it okay. Not in the slightest.”

When her voice broke on the last word, Mag’s head snapped back down, brow softening as he pulled one of his lip rings between his teeth. “Every song was done by the notes in your book - I swear. Just give the album a listen before you judge.”

“I don’t own a CD player,” She fought back. Sweaty fists balling up into her skirt, the writer breathed, “Anything worth listening to can be recorded onto a tape.”

At her words, Mag smiled, reaching back into the pocket of his jacket. A few of the pins could be heard clanking together. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten too much about you, Roxy. I know mixtapes are one of your favorite forms of communication and this is likely the most important one I’ve ever made.”

A black and white tape was pressed into her hands and Mag finally moved out of her way. Black and red flannel wrapped around his waist swaying with each step, he paused when they were shoulder to shoulder, dropping his mouth to her ear and murmuring, “Accept my apology or don’t. I just want my friend back.”

Roxy twirled the cassette in her hands. “Start with telling everyone here you didn’t write these songs and I’ll think about thinking about it.”

***

In the twenty minutes between meeting up with her friends and the house lights going down to signal Brand New Day’s show was about to start, Roxy had fumbled her way through conversations, not registering much of what was going on around her.

The day had already been too much. Fighting with Gustavo and Griffin, not to mention the disaster of a limo ride where the producer had all but yelled at her for voicing this party was a bad idea, and now, she had Mag’s so-called apology to consider. The cassette he’d given her was burning a hole in her mini backpack, one she could feel on the small of her back as she and the boys made their way over to the V.I.P. viewing area. 

To top it all off, she couldn’t even find comfort in her boyfriend until the party was over, despite walking right next to him, in case any of the news outlets attending the party caught sight of the two of them. With everything going on right now, that was only an added stress flowing through Roxy’s head. 

Slowly, as she, the band, and their bosses took their place at the set of circular standing tables beside the stage, she could practically feel the hemispheres of her brain pull apart from each other, resulting in one of the most splitting headaches she’d ever had. It was only added to once the Hurons and Ms. McAllister arrived at the tables in front of them. 

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Kendall whispered behind her, effectively pulling her out of the heavy daze she’d found herself swimming in. “Logan, you disrupt the fog machine and set it to produce as much fog as possible; If no one can see the band, they can’t play. Carlos, the stairs to the mezzanine are to the left, make sure the spotlights are out, okay? James, the audio control booth is being set up in the middle of the room. I took a peek earlier and it’s exactly like Gustavo’s - If you can mess with the microphone sound, I’ll take care of the instrument sound. And Rox…” The boy pushed a bottle of Peppy Cola her way, glass screeching unpleasantly across the table. “You just sit here and enjoy Brand New Day’s downfall. Everyone got it?” 

With three of the boys letting out an emphatic, “Yes!” it was quite hard to hear Roxy whisper, “No.”

From her right side, Carlos bumped elbows with her. “If you don’t want to stand around, you can come with me to the mezzanine! There’s probably a bunch of lights we can mess with.”

Enthused giggle leaving his lips, he linked his arm through hers and made a move in the direction Kendall had pointed out earlier. Though it jostled her a bit due to his hockey player strength, Roxy managed to hold her ground, feeling both of her hands fly up to the black tabletop, nails attempting to dig into the solid surface. 

When Carlos’ brow furrowed, he stopped trying to pull her along but kept their arms linked together. “Maybe you’d feel more comfortable at the audio booth?”

Roxy’s mouth opened to respond, but no sound came out. 

“I could use a hand with the fog machine, if I’m being honest,” Logan tried, tossing a weak smile in his assistant’s direction. Both of them knew he didn’t, he was just doing his best to include her in their plan to sabotage Brand New Day’s show. “If one of us follows the chord to whatever power source it’s hooked up to, we could manage to increase the electrical current flowing to the-”

“Guys, just stop for a second.” The cautious words from James caused the girl to increase her grip on the table as he cut Logan off. It was almost as if he were upset about something, though she wasn’t sure if he had some reason to be. 

Did something happen while I was away?

“Roxy? You don’t want us to do anything, do you?” He asked, plain as day. For a boy who was often quite lacking in situational awareness, he’d zoomed into her problem far quicker than any of their friends. 

Had they not been in a crowded room, she’d reach up, knot her fingers in his t-shirt, and pull him down into an earth-shattering kiss. 

When she shook her head, she was finally able to release her fingers from the table, though they soon resumed keeping busy as she began to pick at her cuticles. Now that they’d gotten to the root of the problem, she wasn’t sure she wanted to explain to them why she felt that way. 

Should she clue them into her conversation with Mag? It wasn’t any of their business, but they were her best friends. Maybe they’d understand where she was coming from, why she wanted to believe he was truly apologetic for his actions. But on the other hand, what if they didn’t comprehend why she was considering what they’d talked about? Any criticism hurtling her way would probably break her, let alone statements about her ability to judge character. 

There had been a reason she’d been pulled into Mag and Dani’s world their freshman year. The two of them had been good friends. Her best friends.  They’d given her a space to express her feelings judgment-free and had taken a chance on the least punk-presenting person in all of Duluth to help give rise to the band they’d built together. 

She didn’t want to forget the long nights they’d spent together, handing out fliers outside of record stores, hanging out in the radio station during her overnight shifts, or the shows they’d handcrafted, piecing the setlists together as though their lives depended on it. Even outside of their band, they’d been the first two to explore their hometown with her, they’d gotten through Mag’s father's passing together, and survived the horrors of American public schooling by each other's sides. 

Those were the people she remembered them to be; Those were the people she still wanted them to be. Was it so wrong to want her friends back too?

The pit in her stomach certainly told her it was.

Even if she wasn’t entirely sure she was still willing to forgive them for what they’d done, if Mag truly meant what he had said earlier, this might be the performance he makes it right, and Roxy wasn’t interested in sabotaging that in any way… Selfish as that might be. 

“No,” she confirmed, daring to pull her nails from the bloody mess she’d eventually make if she kept pulling at her skin and reaching down to her side to lock pinkies with her boyfriend. Though that wasn’t the physical comfort she sought at the moment, it would have to do for now. “If something goes wrong and it’s traced back to the four of you, Gustavo’d throw a fit. He’s already on edge…”

Looking around the table, she took note of nodding heads, until Kendall slammed one hand down on the table, causing her to flinch at the sound, practically shouting, “Rox, who gives a fuck? These two completely screwed you over!”

Kendall yelling at her? That was certainly a new experience - One she didn’t take well to at all. 

“Still! That’s my music they’re about to play up there!” She roared back, feeling the line that had been tightening all night finally snap, goosebumps prickling down her arms at the tone he’d taken with her. “That’s serious shit, Kendall! That’s personal. My heart is up there on that stage with every word, every strum of a guitar chord… Credited to my name or not, if the four of you hatch some stupid, wacky plan and ruin that, you’d be screwing me over, too!”

“Don’t you understand? People like Mag and Dani need to be taught a lesson! Or they’ll just keep getting what they want over, and over! Those two did some damage, Roxy, we see it whenever you try to keep an unfinished song from us or carry your problems alone-”

Chest constricting, Roxy didn’t bother to quell her words. Whatever was getting Kendall so worked up, letting him think it was fine to raise his voice at her affected her tenfold. “There’s nothing of mine left for them to take! It seems you’ve forgotten that’s your job now!”

Silence. 

James let his hand fall from hers. 

By the way her friends gaped at her declaration, she had been right to hold back the contents of her conversation with Mag. 

Finally, she found where they differ; Big Time Rush wanted revenge for what had been done to their assistant. Roxy wanted, needed, recompense. 

Carlos glanced somewhere behind Roxy before his line of sight made it down to the black tablecloth. “You think our plans are stupid?”

“Is… writing for us not fun anymore?” Across the table, Logan’s question further twisted Carlos’ knife.

And all at once, the conversation that was meant to bring the five of them together that night left the writer feeling fully isolated. Her heart throbbed, unpleasantly mixing in with the beginnings of a bass drum beat blaring through the stage speakers, blood pouring into her ears as the pangs of anger prickled her brow. Beginnings of anything she could possibly say next were swallowed up by the crowd’s ovation as the lights went up and Brand New Day took the stage - That was probably a good thing, too, because if Kendall wanted a yelling match, Roxy was just bothered enough to give him one. 

Of all the things she had to be right about that night, her statement about her heart being on stage rattled around her head as she recognized the opening riff to the first song, “Into the Night.” Based on the night of Brand New Day’s first show, an evening blazed into Roxy’s memory from the pure emotional overload, Mag began to sing the lyrics. His unrefined, raw, voice stood out from music perfectly, sounding like the punk singers he’d spent so much time learning vocals from on old CD tracks in his bedroom.

Goddamn it, the girl thought, taking everything in, it does sound just like I imagined it would.

As the song went on, she tried to reach out to James, only to find his arms crossed against his chest, watching Mag very intently as he jumped around the stage while he played. When she attempted to place a hand on his arm, he shrugged her off, not even bothering to look over in her direction. 

“Babe,” She called, almost directly into his ear, but the sound coming from the speakers was far too loud, drowning out any possibility of her soft tone reaching his ears. 

That, or more likely, he was pretending like he couldn’t hear anything but the music.

***

“Heartswell Summer” was the last song and lead single off Barely Hanging On. 

A song Roxy had written after Mag had gotten his driver’s license, when the two of them had taken his mom’s car keys and joyrode around Duluth the summer of their sophomore year. Taking on surface streets and highways together, daring to head down little one-way mountain roads, and overall, just enjoying the company of a friend.

Something had been… freeing about the entire interaction; The idea that someone she knew besides her father was able to drive her places was a major plus, but also, the ability to potentially play shows outside of their hometown. That excited the two of them more than anything. 

Originally, Dani was set to come with them on their drive to nowhere, wasting as much gas as they could before they would inevitably have to come back home and beg Ms. McAllister to refill the tank - none of them had ever pumped gas before - but they had to pass. Sydnee’s family’s upholstery store needed someone to cover the register while her sister had her tonsils out and they were more than happy to step up to the plate. 

Looking back, had Dani been there, Roxy wasn’t sure she’d have been able to come up with the song in the first place. There’s no way they’d let them listen to Mag’s Saves The Day CD or park the car at the cliffs of the North Shore, staring out the front windshield and admiring the beauty of the lake scene in front of them. 

The two of them weren’t talking about anything important, in fact, as she tried to search the recesses of her memory to try and take a guess as to what it was, she couldn’t even come up with anything. At one point, he’d turned to her as they spoke and his unwavering attention caused her mouth to go dry. 

Then, her heartbeat a little faster. Palms grew sweaty as she held tightly to the soda cup they’d gotten at the Bun In A Million drive-thru. When she laughed at whatever jokes he made, there was a little something extra behind it. 

Sure, she’d been on a date before, kissed a guy even, but none of the new feelings she’d encountered that day even came close to what she was experiencing in the passenger seat of Mag’s car. 

On the way home, they’d sung along to his CD until their voices were gone and the minute she got home, she locked herself in her bedroom and wrote “Heartswell Summer.”

A few months later, that song had been the catalyst for her humiliating departure from Brand New Day. 

Now, hearing the final chorus escape Mag’s lips, Dani, sweaty, but still expertly pounding away at their drum kit to round the song out, Roxy decided for the first time in ages, she was glad to have written it, even in the wake of the pain it had caused her. Without it, she’d have never considered signing up for Gustavo’s talent auditions, never leading her to meet Big Time Rush, never have allowed her to travel the United States playing her songs for crowds of thousands and thousands. 

The applause the duo had garnered was well deserved, no denying those two put on an excellent show. It was also evident Brand New Day had no place for her any longer, even if a small part of her had thought that there was the slightest possibility, and admittedly, that realization didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. 

Roxy’s place was with Big Time Rush - A fact she’d overlooked tonight for the sake of the past and people she used to love. But that didn’t change the fact she wanted to get in Kendall’s face and scream, show him how upset his tone had made her, how he made it sound like she wasn’t able to solve her problems on her own.

Control freak… 

It had been a good while since she’d been this agitated, there was a reason she’d been drawn the punk music after all, feeling the need to get it out all at one person. She hadn’t allowed herself to yell at Dak after their break up or at Camille when she’d kissed James, because she thought herself better than that. Now, she was pretty sure if that blond boy got anywhere in her vicinity she’d explode.

The worst part? Though anger like this was healthy every once and a while, Roxy was usually able to channel it into something good, like a song, but her mind was just drawing blank after blank. A kid with a white crayon scribbling and wondering why nothing was showing up on the page. 

With no outlet like that, she knew she’d better keep her mouth shut before their fight evolved into something bigger than it already was. At some point, she’d have to apologize, especially for dragging the other three into it unprompted, but that was the farthest thing from her mind right now as Mag and Dani took their bows, stepping up to the microphone to say their thank you’s to the crowd. 

With the sound of clapping slowly starting to dissipate, Mag strummed a few chords on the baby blue guitar over his shoulder - The one that had inspired Roxy to write the track “Baby Blue” - before stepping up, joking, “That’s enough of that! Stop it!” before placing his hands over his heart. 

“Plenty of people in our lives deserve the applause far more than we do,” Dani followed, pulling out a sheet of paper from their back pocket. Sound of crinkling paper coming through the mic, they spoke in their usual nonchalant manner. “Even though you get to see the two of us up here, Brand New Day is far more than Mag and I.”

“First off, we’d like to thank our parents… Not very punk, we know, but we really wouldn’t be here without their constant and unwavering support!” 

Dani waved his hand up and down, prompting the crowd to cheer louder and louder, as one of the spotlights found its way to the table where the Hurons and Ms. McAllister were sat. An odd first choice to the girl, considering she could remember plenty of times they hadn’t been supportive. Considering she hadn’t been around them for a little over a year, what did she know about their current parental relationships?

Another lazy riff and Mag let it ring through the speakers before taking the mic again, “And of course, none of this would be possible if the lovely and talented producer, Chelsea Northrop, hadn’t taken a chance on our little band…”

The light found a middle-aged woman in the crowd, bright red hair contrasting greatly with the black of her power suit, and she politely waved. No trace of a smile on her face despite the band receiving so much positive feedback from fans in real-time. 

Running their hand down the written list in their hands, Dani smiled before crumpling up the paper and throwing it behind their back. They leaned into Mag’s grip on the mic. “One more person…” 

Roxy’s heart skipped. 

“...Well, more like a group of people: The fans! Thank you all so much for always showing up for us, buying our music, hyping us up online… The growth of Brand New Day can’t be attributed to anyone else. We can’t wait to keep making music you all love!” With a flip of their long hair over their shoulder, the house lights illuminated the crowd, and it appeared as though Dani was reaching down to the front of the stage to pull one of the setlists off and hand it to someone in the front when Mag drew his pick up and down the strings again.

With a few clicks of his tongue and a wry smile, the black-haired boy waggled his finger toward the audience. “Speaking of fans… Were any of you lucky enough to see us when we were a shitty little cover band back in our hometown?” 

One person in the audience cheered, “Hell yeah!” with an emphatic fist pump, inspiring Roxy to let out a “Whoo!” of her own from the sidelines, clapping her hands together as loud as she could just so the big room wasn’t so quiet. 

“Well then, you might have noticed we downsized from a trio to a duo - Fear not, our best friend Roxanne Somerset is still with us behind the scenes. Not only did she write every song we played up here tonight, and the entire album if I’m being honest. She also helped arrange all of the covers we played back home. Dani and I don’t think her nearly enough, so Rox, if you’re out there, what do you say to playing one more song with us?”

Dani froze, looking at the singer with wide eyes. 

Recompense. Just like she’d wanted. Only now she was learning she’d bit off far more than she was willing to chew when the same annoying spotlight Carlos had promised to bust found her on the sidelines, nearly blinding her. It took all she had not to bring her hands up to her face to block the light, and the crowd’s chant of, “One more song! One more song!” didn’t leave her much choice. 

Caught in a catch-22, Roxy didn’t have much time to mull over her decision. Play the song or don’t. Piss off Big Time Rush or piss off Brand New Day.

Accept my apology or don’t.

 Turning the offer down would just be downright embarrassing, especially in front of so many people, and when her eyes finally adjusted to the light, she could see her friends in the V.I.P. section staring straight back at her, trying to determine her choice. 

When Kendall slowly shook his head in her direction, Roxy just about lost it. 

She ran up to the stage, making sure to go out of her way to pass by the table the boys were standing at, because what did they know about her time in Brand New Day? How dare Kendall act as if he were the end-all, be-all of her life’s decisions? Playing in her own band, getting to own the whole stage, and interacting with the other two, was far more a rewarding feeling than being boxed in stage right at a Big Time Rush show. Not that Kendall would understand. He’d never even know the difference. 

Who cared if she played one more song with them? It was a good send-off, especially after Mag had admitted to a room full of people neither he nor Dani had written their own music - The first step in what she was now happy to consider a healing friendship. The boys would just have to get over it eventually. 

When she approached the band, Roxy didn’t think twice before throwing her arms around each of their shoulders, pulling them down into the huddle position they’d always do to debrief before their shows. Paying no mind to the crowd in front of them, Roxy took her time savoring the moment. 

“Thank you, both of you, for admitting that. Being so honest with everyone was pretty… Unexpected, but appreciated” She beamed, hair falling into her face, wrestling them a bit tighter. “And congratulations on the album.”

Mag was the first to fire back, “Thank you, Roxy. Seriously, I mean-”

“What song are we playing?” Dani cut him off, rolling their drumsticks between their palms. Small, lined intents covered the thick wood from top to bottom, a testament to how hard Dani went on their kit during the performance. “‘The Anthem?’”

“Oh, God, no. Not while the Maddens are here.” Cheek scrunching in disgust, Roxy couldn’t stand the thought of playing a Good Charlotte song while two of its founding members were somewhere in the audience. “The Replacements, maybe? ‘Bastards of Young?’”

“That song is ancient,” Mag laughed, light and airy, “I was thinking something more suited to Roxy’s taste… Not exactly punk, but how about ‘Bring It On Down?’”

The gasp that escaped Roxy’s lips might have been heard by the entire crowd, “You’re serious? I had to beg both of you to learn that one…”

“Sure. That one. Whatever.” Dani grunted, gently moving out of the writer’s grasp and jerking a thumb in her direction. “Just one problem, she can’t play any of the guitars here.”

“Think again, Dani!” 

Now that the huddle was broken, Mag slid a few steps side stage and pulled out his first electric guitar; The black, sleek instrument Roxy would always have to borrow for their more important shows instead of playing her shitty acoustic/electric.

Roxy childishly snatched it out of his hands, pulling the neck into her chest and rocking side to side, “I can’t believe you kept it strung like this!” 

In a flash the black strap was around her shoulder, adjusted as though he hadn’t played it once since she last touched it, and she reached out to his mic stand to take a pick. 

“I had hope we might play together someday… Call me sentimental…” He took a step closer to her and reached out a hand. Without thinking, she leaned back, eyes widening.

“Hey-”

If they noticed this interaction at all, they didn’t let it show. Dani struck their drumsticks together to signal the beginning of the song. If Roxy had any hope of getting through the song without messing up, she’d have to pay incredibly close attention to the time Dani was keeping on the drums.

Once more, Mag held out his hand, palm facing her this time in some sort of peace gesture before he went for her shoulder, adjusting the strap so it was smooth on her skin instead of the twisted mess she’d made of it when she slung it on the first time. 

Roxy had to look down at the instrument below her, not because she needed to see the strings to play, but to ignore the way his eyes shone under the bright stage lights. 

That, coupled with the fact “Bring It On Down” was one of her favorite Oasis songs had her thinking for just a split second that maybe it was a bad idea she’d chosen to join them… But when it came her time to strike the lead chord, hear it resonate out to the crowd as everyone began to move to the beat, that thought quickly left her mind. 

With a glance to the table with her friends, she tried to send a silent message to James that she wished it was him up there with her, but he was too busy speaking with Kendall, Logan, and Carlos - quite furiously by the quickness of his hand gestures -  to notice any of the fun she was having. 

***

Just as she left the stage after a final bow, placing Mag’s guitar back into its case on the side, she turned to look for Brand New Day, only to find the red-haired woman from earlier, standing right behind her. 

“Hey, Ms. Northrop, right?” She greeted, attempting to mask the small gasp of surprise that left her lips. Blood still pumping from the adrenaline rush of performing, the girl wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. “They should put a bell on you… or something. Uh... Thanks for letting me play with those two again-” Stepping forward, Chelsea’s heeled boot smacked the wood of the stage as she extended a hand, and Roxy flinched, making it hard for her to return the woman’s handshake. 

“I’m going to cut to the chase.” Chelsea cut her off, very effective in doing exactly what she had said. “Do you like it at Rocque Records?”

Roxy wasn’t sure if the continued hammering in her chest was due to the performance anymore. “I do-”

“Gustavo Rocque is an unpleasant man,” the woman spoke over the rest of what Roxy was trying to say. 

If she’s trying to sell herself as more pleasant… It’s not looking that way…

“He has his moments, sure-”

“I have a contract here offering you your same assistant songwriter position under me and all four of the bands I manage.” From her large black purse hanging at her side, Chelsea opened a professional-looking ledger and produced just that; A thick, bound leather folder was thrust into the assistant’s hands before she had the chance to protest.

Immediately, Roxy pushed it back toward her as though the object was cursed, “Look, you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not-”

“Open to the second page. Section 12-B. Line four.”

“No. I’m not going to do that, Chelsea. How about you let me finish what I’m saying?” The fury she’d felt toward Kendall earlier was starting to bubble up again, and though she had done her best to be cordial with this woman, getting spoken over was just degrading. “I’m not looking to switch jobs and I’m not looking to work with Brand New Day again, that performance was just for fun, okay? There’s nothing in the world that could make me-”

“Roxanne, I’m willing to offer you three times your current salary to come work for me at Galactic Records.” 

The next words that came out of Roxy’s mouth were a garbled mess of sounds dying halfway from her throat to her tongue. “Wha?”

“You’ve got forty-eight hours to let me know your decision. Please make the right one.”

Only at the sound of her heels smacking on the wood did the writer realize Chelsea was walking away. Click, click, click…

All the writer could do was stand there, dumbstruck at the offer, running the producer's words over and over in her head as she tried to make sense of all that had just occurred. The leather folder in her hands had held the key that would unlock the door to more industry opportunity, which, honestly, didn’t matter to Roxy in the slightest, but to walk away from triple the salary she made at Rocque Records…

From the boost in royalties this new album under her name would provide, she had figured, at least, she might be able to pay for her father to come visit, but with three times her current salary?

Screw Dad coming to visit… Dad could move here. We could live together again and see all the things we talked about seeing if we could afford it…

From somewhere in the crowd, Roxy heard Mag’s laugh ring out, clear and true.

Was this all a ploy to get my writing back in Brand New Day?

Even without confirmation, the thought of getting played by Mag McAllister again had Roxy’s eyes watering faster than the end of Titanic. Half-way a call for help, half-way a prayer, she shakily whispered her boyfriend’s name, “James… I need to find James…” before a few lyrics wedged their way into her brain.

The only issue? Her songbook and pen were in her backpack at the table and there was no way she was letting the other three see her like this right now. Frantically, her eyes scanned the side stage area, hoping for a pen, paper, anything that could help her get the lyrics down on paper before she forgot them, but her search yielded no results. 

Without thinking, she practically tore her phone out of her back pocket and opened her texting app to the first conversation, typing out. 

R: I walk offstage because this whole play is more than I can take 

Once that was out of mind, Roxy heard another line begin to play, but it was too loud to decipher over the chatter from the venue’s patrons. She needed to get out of there, now, somewhere quiet where she could get the lyric out before losing it. 

Good thing the ramp leading to the stage let out close to a hallway marked with a glowing red exit sign. 

R: I was one foot out the door, I couldn’t play that part no more

This new lyric finally erupted as the cool air of the Los Angeles night set in, lining the girl’s skin, a new tremor racking through her already shaking hands as her fingers typed out one last line.

R: The chemistry just wasn't there, I couldn't act like I didn't care, when I do, I do

How annoying. Roxy threw her head back, greedily gulping down the smoggy breeze in the alley outside of the venue. Still writing stupid songs about him to this day-

“Don’t tell me you came out here to complain about Mag. That’s your ‘I-Want-To-Complain-About-Mag’ face.”

“Jesus, Dani!” For the second time in as many minutes, Roxy jumped at an unexpected presence, this time coming from the stairs to the venue’s second floor, where Dani sat about halfway up, a lit cigarette between their pointer and middle fingers. “I’m going to put a fucking bell on you too, I swear to God…”

“O-kay,” Dragged out the drummer, making sure to pull the cigarette for a few beats too long before blowing the smoke out in Roxy’s direction. “Whatever that means…”

But, they scooted over, patting the rotting iron step beside them.

Bundling into her bare arms as they crossed over her chest, Roxy gave a grateful nod and descended a few steps to reach them. The last time they’d sat outside and spoken like this had to have been her last winter in Minnesota, right before the band broke up. Roxy couldn’t remember if it had been on her back porch or Dani’s, but either way, the gorgeous Duluth sky had left them ample opportunity to stargaze and talk about whatever came to mind. 

When she finally sat, the smoke’s earthy scent enveloped her nostrils, curling down into her mouth and making her crave the taste on her tongue. 

Maybe Dani noticed, or maybe they were just being polite, but they held the cigarette in her direction. 

Roxy just shook her head, “Not tonight, thanks… It’d ruin my ability to complain about Mag, don’t you think?”

The snort coming out of Dani’s nose had a little bit of smoke behind it. 

“For the record, I’m pissed at him too. I had no idea those songs were yours, Rox, not until I held the final copy of our record in my hands. There’s no way I’d agree to play them if I’d known.” For a brief moment, they flicked the ash down onto the ground below. Dani Huron was many things; a great drummer, a grassroots activist, a Good Charlotte fan. The one thing Dani Huron was not, was a liar. “Hmm… Doesn’t seem to affect my complaining at all...”

After the most emotionally tumultuous hour of her life, Roxy let out a small sigh, daring to lay her head down onto the soft t-shirt sleeve covering Dani’s shoulder, just like she would when they were smoking back home. 

Earlier in the day she’d never have dreamed of speaking to Dani like this ever again, but now, she just needed someone to talk to and it seemed as though they were more than willing to listen. Though it was a nasty habit, smoking always helped calm them down, cracking through their hard shell and allowing them to open up far more than in casual conversation.

“Dani, I am so sorry for thinking you had a part in that all this time,” Even the sigh at the drummer’s quip wasn’t enough to help swallow the crack in her voice. Of course, Roxy wanted to say it was okay, but at this point, her mind was so twisted, she had no idea who to believe. “Mag apologized for taking them earlier, actually, and I asked him to tell everyone it was my music. Then he did. So, I thought it would be cool to play with you again… For the sake of… A new friendship, maybe? But then that witch Chelsea offered me a job at Galactic the moment I got off stage. Three times my current salary. And now I have no clue what to make of everything… Am I crazy to feel like he’s just playing me again?”

“What makes you think I’d tell you if I knew?”

“Best friend code?”

“That’d normally work if we’d spoken any time in the last… twelve months, I think. Or you’d left Duluth with a goodbye.” They turned their face to the side, casting a glance over the alleyway below. “I called you, like, a million times when Project Pop canceled your show ‘for the foreseeable future’ because you’d ‘moved to the land of the stars.’”.

Screwing her eyes shut, Roxy dug the heels of her palms into her eyelids. “Again… Thought you were in on the whole song-stealing thing…”

Taking another drag, Dani let out a silent bout of laughter, shoulders shaking and sending their friend’s head bobbing up and down. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm began to go off, interrupting the surprising silence of the big city at night. 

“Seriously, though, I want this band built off of talent, not lies. If Mag has anything cooked up, I swear on Bear he didn’t say a word to me.”

Visions of Dani’s enormous goldendoodle ran through Roxy’s mind. “Thanks, Dee… Out of everything that’s happened tonight you wouldn’t believe how refreshing this normal conversation is..”

“Oh?” More smoke curled out of their mouth as they breathed out the word, scratching at the black, metal ring stuck in their nose. “You’re always in the middle of the weirdest drama - and I mean that affectionately.”

“That trait 100% followed me to Los Angeles… You should meet the guys I work for,” The writer huffed as the corners of her mouth turned up, “I royally fucked things up with them earlier, too… Ugh, that apology is going to be so humiliating-”

The door the the venue slammed open below them. “Roxanne?” 

James said her name with a sense of urgency, one she’d never heard out of him before. 

“And that’s my cue… Catch you later,” Dani whispered, bumping shoulders with their friend before sliding down the stairs and back into the venue.

“Up here, babe!” His assistant called, shooting to her feet almost as quickly as Dani had, and taking a few steps to the ground. As James turned to the sound of her voice, she couldn’t help but throw herself into him, arms scrunching around his torso, “I’m so sorry about earlier, what I said was…”

When she pressed her ear to his chest, she could hear the rapid beating of his heart. Then, his arms were on her shoulders, physically putting her at an arm's length away. A cursory glance up and down his tall frame immediately told her something was wrong. Not only was his perfectly set hair uncharacteristically disheveled, but his stunning hazel eyes were puffed red under the halogen lamp hanging above the door, foot anxiously tapping on the ground as he pulled one hand off of her and reached into his front pocket.

Phone screen flicking on, almost as bright as that spotlight earlier, his fingers dug into her shoulder as he held it up to her, “What the hell is this?” 

Three white text bubbles filled her vision; The song lyrics she’d been unable to write down earlier had been sent in rapid succession. No wonder he looked so panicked… Receiving those three lines in a row would certainly freak anyone out. 

Intestines twisted, and the girl shook her head. Why hadn’t I thought of that before I hit the send button?

Her hand shot up to meet his, curling around the fingers that held his phone and lowering the device out of her face. If he could feel the claminess setting into her palms, he didn’t mention it.

As difficult as looking him in his bloodshot eyes was, Roxy assured him, “Lyrics! Song lyrics, James, nothing else. My journal was too far-”

“Lyrics? To a breakup song?” Though a chuckle left his lips, it was anything but gleeful. “Something inspired you to write that tonight?”

“It’s a bit early to call it a breakup song… It’s just three lines. They came to me when I hopped off stage, that’s all.”

 Sucking in a breath, James shook her hand off of his. The boy in front of her was physically shaking and it certainly wasn’t due to the low temperature outside. “Playing with Mag caused you to write this?”

Of course, that’s what she had said, opposite from what she’d meant. 

“The words are about him, baby, not you!” Reaching out for him again, she tried to place her palm on his cheek, but he recoiled from her touch, shying away from her like a vampire in the sunlight. For a second, Roxy had to swallow down some bile rising in her throat. “I think we need to go home and talk, okay? We’re not breaking up; It’s just a poorly timed text message.”

When his eyes glazed over, Roxy knew she had lost him. His utterance of “We… need to talk?” suggested he hadn’t heard anything beyond the first part of her statement. 

“Breathe, James, please. You’re going to pass out.” 

Like he had before, he only continued hearing what he wanted to, saying whatever he could to fit the narrative he’d constructed about the messages he’d received. Labored, but collected enough, he pushed out, “We do need to talk, actually. About you writing love songs about other guys!”

The lamp above the doorway flickered, and Roxy’s vision began to blur. A nasty flashback of Dak chewing her out in her apartment about hanging out with the band flashed behind her eyes. 

“How come it was a breakup song when you thought it was about you, and a love song now that you know it’s about Mag?” 

Asking that question through shakey breaths likely ruined how important it was to her to hear his explanation. 

Mouth flapping open and closed like a fish, James finally found his words as he read over the text messages again. “I couldn’t act like I care, when I do.”

Roxy ran one finger over her top lip to stave off the running she could feel starting in her nostrils. All her brain told her was that she needed to crash into him, squeeze him to death, run her hands through his hair as they spoke and maybe, maybe, he’d be ready to listen to her, but if she reached out to him one more time and he refuted it, she’d break down far sooner than she was on track to. “He just said some things to me earlier about my songs and I asked him to admit they weren’t his to everyone tonight. It’s just a little confusing where we stand now-”

“Who cares where you stand? You have me!’

“Will you stop implying I’m into him? I can’t think of any other way to say it, James! It’s just a stupid fucking song I was dumb enough to write down outside of my songbook and share with the world before it was done!” The writer cried. “And Kendall wonders why I keep that shit to myself… I’ve done my best to share my songs with you before they’re finished recently, but right now you’re just proving why I shouldn’t!”

“Right,” Huffed the boy in front of her. “Because communication is only a two-way street when it comes to anyone but you.”

Jaw falling slack, Roxy’s entire body grew numb. Out of everyone in her life, he was the person she’d been the most vulnerable with. Allowing herself to take the plunge into romantic entanglement together, both emotional and physical. Their entire relationship was built on placing trust in the other person. Just the hint of the idea James didn’t trust her anymore sent the tears Roxy had been holding back spilling out onto her cheeks. “This conversation is over, James. I can’t-I can’t do this right now. This night has already been so hard for me.”

Making way for the door behind James, she rammed her shoulder into his arm. He allowed himself to be knocked to the side. “Sure didn’t seem that way when you were rocking out with your lying, stealing, jerks of ex-band mates.”

Catching the heavy, metal door before it closed, Roxy stood halfway into the building, tossing her head over her shoulder to give her boyfriend one final glance before escaping to the crowd inside. “Sure beats the hell out of a jealous, combative, asshole of a boyfriend.”

She didn’t stop moving, not as she weaved through the tables by the stage to get her bag, or around the people getting down on the dance floor, when Gustavo called her name, or when her sock slid down her heel, digging into the bottom of her foot as she stomped to the front of the venue. 

Thanks to the large number of attendees to the album release party, nearly a dozen taxis were waiting out front to pick up anyone who hadn’t been lucky enough to arrange a ride beforehand. Around her, a handful of adults staggered on the sidewalk, who had taken advantage of the open bar, while others her age went this way and that with their CDs and other Brand New Day merch in hand. 

When she came across the first empty cab, she took a fifty out of her wallet and threw it in the window. “The Palm Woods hotel, as fast as possible.”

The cabbie didn’t need to be asked twice, and the minute the door to the backseat closed, they peeled away from the curb so quickly Roxy feared her head might spin off. 

Now that the party was in the rearview mirror, the girl was oddly relieved, though that didn’t stop the rush of emotions still completely overwhelming her. She was pretty sure she’d been crying for the last several minutes, if evidenced by the tear stains on the blank notebook pages in her lap, and the numbness from James’ words earlier still stuck around. 

How she managed to piss off all of her friends in one night might be some kind of new fucked up world record… One that would make the work day tomorrow anything but normal.

--

hi, lots to say about this one, but mostly that i'm sorry lol this did hurt very much to write!

roxy's lyrics come from an unreleased btr song called intermission if anyone was wondering.

i imagine brand new day sounds a lot like yellowcard (minus the violin) (that's a surprise tool that will help us later) and "heartswell summer" is heavily based if not lifted entirely from their song "with you around"

and as always, thank you for reading! be sure to let me know what you think <3 ily <3

[rendy-a]

Hello! I'd like to request for your 200 follower event with Riddle, romantic, Heartslabyul's rose garden. But the reader is the one offering him a card, strawberry tart, and asking him to be their Valentine please. Thank you!

I got writer's block on my bigger piece, so I thought I'd flip over to finishing up this event. Only one more piece to go! I hope you enjoy my take on this confession Valentine!

I think we make the perfect pair, Valentine.  Won’t you be the King to my Queen? 

Red, white and black.  These were the colors of Heartslabyul and those that reminded you most of the Dorm Leader who resides there.  You smile fondly at the bright red strawberry tart as you pull if from the oven, it looks to be a great success.  Trey pats you on the back and says, “Don’t get too comfortable, there is still the decorating to go.”  You grab the bag of whipped white frosting and hold it up, “Yes, Sir!” Your enthusiasm amuses the senior and he chuckles at you.

You’d asked Trey if he would help you make a tart.  Not just any tart but his recipe for strawberry tarts.  You told him it was because they were the best you’ve tasted and, while true, that wasn’t the real reason.  No, it was because you knew Trey’s strawberry tarts were HIS favorite. 

Riddle had helped you catch up in your history of magic class.  It was a challenge for you, coming from a different world, to learn not just the freshman curriculum but also so much of the general world history that other students had learned ages ago.  Riddle had taken on the task with his usual grace.  He patiently reviewed practice tests with you and gave you flashcards to practice with; both tools made by the dorm leader himself.   You saw sides of Riddle you hadn’t seen before; the eager side when he got to share new knowledge, the pleased smile when you score a perfect mark on his practice test and the gentle side when he shakes you awake when you nod off and softly suggests you head off to bed.

When the semester ended, you took your final exam to show your strict tutor.  When you arrive at the library table you typically share, he takes the exam from your hand.  “A score of 86%.  You have room to improve, Prefect.” Riddle states sternly.  You grip your books tightly, afraid of what he might say next.  Have you disappointed him?  You feel his hand land on your shoulder and look up to see him giving you a beaming smile.  “All and all, it was well done.  I’m proud of your progress.”  He’d given you a small amount of praise and it made your heart beat faster.   

As the winter months passed, you only felt closer to the Rose Tyrant.  You were opposites in many ways and yet, you felt that you complemented each other well.  Like the white and black accents in a deck of playing cards, your differences combined to make a striking pair; at least in your mind they did.  Study sessions sometimes turned into informal chats and you enjoyed the easy rapport you’d built.  That time in the library, sitting side by side, you found yourself wishing it wouldn’t end.  That brought you to today and your confession.  You’d pictured yourself telling Riddle how you felt many times and hoped that, when you finally gave him your tart and confession, he’d respond in the way you’d imagined him doing so often.  Sweetly, with that small gentle smile you’d seen him give his favorite hedgehogs.  And then…

“Woah!” Trey swoops in and pulls the bag of cream from your hand as you squeeze a fountain of frosting over the tart.  “I got distracted!” you exclaim in dismay, shaking the daydream from your mind.  Trey clucks at you and pushes you aside.  “Can you fix it?” you ask nervously.  He gives a harumph.  “Who do you think you are talking to?”  You stand and watch over his shoulder as he expertly removes the mess of frosting and covers the mistake in an artful swirl of piped frosting.  You sigh in relief to see your special tart saved.  Then you added the dark chocolate decorations.  Finished.  The dark chocolate, white frosting and red strawberries; it was perfect.

You packed the tart in a small box and put it in the basket you had waiting.  “There!” you say, satisfied with the overall look.  “Don’t forget the card.” Trey says with a mischievous smile.  “Gah!” you exclaim.  “Wha…wh…whatever do you mean?” you ask him in a fluster.  He smiles at you knowingly, “Oh nothing, I guess I just imagined it.”  You think you must look quite amusing from the glint in Trey’s eyes.  He hands you tableware for two, “But in case I didn’t imagine it, Riddle is feeding the flamingos today.”   You manage to get out a ‘thank you’ before darting out of the kitchen with your basket.

You find Riddle at the flamingo pen.  He smiles so sweetly at the birds as he admonishes them for being greedy with their dinner.  “No pushing! Line up and wait your turn.”  The words are strict, but the tone betrays the softness of the red-haired boy.  You stand in the shadows of the maze, watching and waiting for his chores to finish.  When he finally latches the fence, you dart out and exclaim, “Oh!  Riddle!  Why, what a coincidence.  I was just wondering if you’d like to join me for a snack.” 

He jumps a little, your voice surprising him.  He turns to look at you, a slight flush on his cheeks.  You assume he is embarrassed for jumping.  “Its late for snacks,” he says cautiously.  You hold out the basket, “I am learning to make tarts from Trey.”  The combination of Trey and tarts does the trick.  Riddle raises his chin slightly and you can see the debate in his mind.  When he asks, “What sort of tart?” you know you have him. 

You let Riddle lead you to a secluded table in the rose maze.  There are so many hidden places like this buried deep within the maze and, you suppose, Riddle must know them all.  “Wow, this feels like the perfect place for something like a confession.” You say with a forced laugh.  Riddle turns bright red, “N..nonsense!  It’s a perfectly normal place for two f..friends to have a tart.”  An uncomfortable silence settles between you.  Finally Riddle breaks it, “That is if you’d still like to join me, as f..friends?” 

You felt nervous by this turn of events but still press on.  You knew the risks when you decided to confess.  You set the basket down and cut two slices of tart.  You hand Riddle the first slice and slide your Valentine’s card under his napkin before placing it at his side.  Then, you take the second slice and sit across from him to eat and wait. 

Riddle attempts some conversation but you are too nervous to carry it long.  Finally, he finishes his slice of tart and moves to lift his napkin.  He has seen the card and you feel you heart jump into your throat.  “What’s this?” he asks puzzled.  “Its for you,” you begin nervously, “Please read it.”  Then he does and you watch his face take on an expression you’ve never seen him make before; his eyes widen and his mouth parts into a gentle O of shock.  It’s a short poem, so you know he must have long since finished reading it, but he remains frozen, just staring at the card. 

Finally, he looks up at you with wide hopeful eyes.  “Is this true?  I feel as though this can’t be reality.  Do you truly feel this way about…me?”  You smile at him softly, “I do, I have for a while now.  You’ve become really special to me and…I just hope that I’m special to you too.” 

He looks at you with a wavering smile and a small tear slips from his eye.  He heaves a nervous chuckle and wipes it from his eye.  “As if you even need to question it.”  Then, he reaches into his jacket and pulls out an envelope with your name penned in his perfect handwriting.  Now it is your turn to have your expression morph into one of shock.  “I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to give this to you but, considering the circumstances, I think it only fair.”  You read his Valentine confession and know you must be smiling like a fool now too.

You often thought that you and Riddle were like black and white; two opposite colors that somehow just went together.  But now your focus is red.  Red is the color of his blush when as you circle around the table and draw close.  It’s the color of the lock of hair you push from his anxious face.  And the color of his lips when you finally share your first kiss in the rose maze as Valentines.  Black, white and red; like the uniform of Heartslabyul or a sweet love that blooms deep within a rose maze.

[quarantineddreamer]

Synchronous Scars | Chapter 9

Whew this one took awhile! A healthy dose of writer's block mixed with imposter's syndrome does not make for the most productive working environment, but we're finally here, and I am so happy to be back with this fic. I hope you'll enjoy the update! Snippet below and as usual full chapter under the cut, or above on AO3. Thanks for reading! (And any reblogs, recs, comments etc. greatly appreciated 💙)

Chapter 9

Sleep was not something that had ever come easily to Cassian. In many ways, he considered it a form of surrender, leaving him at the mercy of whatever torture his traitorous mind would conjure. 

Once he drifted off, the trees would be there to greet him . 

Tall and reaching, with trunks like prison bars stretching across his vision in every direction, trapping him. Not Kenari, but a twisted parallel, just close enough to be familiar, and all the more painful for it.

Vines would reach out to wrap around his ankles and wrists, rooting him to the spot, helpless to take any action as the forest’s shadows began to take the shape of his greatest failures. 

His mother’s silhouette before him, crumbling against a violent red. Kerri’s eyes, wide and black and so afraid. Searching, always searching, with a voice small and hurting. Calling his name again and again, until the surrounding ether consumed her. 

Cassian shook his head–willing inevitable nightmares from his thoughts–and returned his focus instead to listening. Straining to catch the subtle click of a lock turning, or the quiet hiss of a door opening, the soft fall of footsteps retreating into the night... 

They had been fortunate enough not to encounter any further trouble following the strange run-in with Jyn’s ‘ghosts’. Even luckier still, to find a cheap hotel tucked off of Famu’s main thoroughfare with two open rooms. The woman at the counter had accepted the credits Jyn slid across the table without so much as a glance upwards. 

The rooms they’d been given were next to each other, and when Jyn punched in the keycode to her room the door had opened smoothly, with little sound aside from a brief rush of air, practically a whisper.

There had been an awkward beat, Cassian watching her, trying to discern if this would be the last time he saw her, or what she might look like in another 6 years–so he’d be able to recognize her if, by some impossible chance, their paths crossed again. 

He hadn’t dared to ask her outright if he’d be seeing her in the morning. 

“Good night, Cassian,” she’d said softly, avoiding his eyes as she disappeared into her room.

Goodnight, Jyn. 

Cassian rolled to his back, contemplating the blank expanse of the ceiling, glowing a hypnotic blue from the moonlight that streamed through his open window. 

His body should have been screaming for rest—already, he could feel the ache of tomorrow beginning to set in, the fresh scrapes and bruises from his fight on Morlana One making themselves known–but instead it was betraying him. 

It was absurd, well beyond logic, and completely unrealistic, but he swore he could still taste her on his lips, could still smell her hair–flowers, rain, and smoke–with each inhale, the soft skin of her back against the palm of his hand, heating his wrist… 

There was a gentle bump somewhere in the hallway and Cassian found himself holding his breath, waiting for any sounds that might follow, for any indication she was leaving. 

But there was nothing, only a distant ringing in his ears–a souvenir from his time fighting on Mimban.

He wondered what damages he might collect from whatever hellhole the Empire shipped him off to this time. Or maybe they wouldn’t even bother, maybe the notice that had–no doubt by now–been sent out from Morlana One simply read shoot on sight, and when his mistakes caught up to him that would be it.

Maybe he had seen Ferrix for the last time and–just like with Kenari–not even known it.

The image of Clem waiting up for him to get home–as he had done countless times throughout Cassian’s youth–bore too close a resemblance to his nightmares of Kerri doing the same. His stomach in knots, Cassian rolled from the bed and wandered into the hallway, seeking one of the communal freshers and the sharp slap of some cold water on his face to clear his head.

At the end of the empty, dark hallway was a door that had been painted blue to mark the location of the fresher. But when Cassian entered the code the hotel had provided to unlock it, the word ‘ ERROR’ flashed back at him, the keypad emitting three short beeps of defiance. 

“One sec. I’m almost done,” a familiar voice echoed from within the fresher. 

Something tickled at his chest, a strange combination of surprise, delight, and relief rushing through him. “Jyn?”

For a moment the only sound was the faint drip of water; he thought he might have heard her give a quick kark under her breath. Then the door hissed open to reveal Jyn, her outline haloed by the warm glow of the fresher behind her. 

Like him, she was wearing the same clothes from the day–swimming in the shirt she’d borrowed from him on the ship. Her hair was still damp from showering and she had her head angled to the side as she continued to squeeze at her ends with a fluffy gray towel. She lifted an eyebrow at him, “What are you still doing up?”

“I could ask the same of you,” he pointed out. 

She shrugged and lowered the towel. “I’ve learned to never pass up hot water when you have it.” 

There was a slight downward curve to her mouth that made him think she wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he refrained from challenging her statement. “Fair enough…” 

“Well…” Jyn shifted in the doorway, making space for him to pass her. “All yours,” a slight smirk played at her lips. “Good thing too.” She mimed plugging her nose and waving at the air, “You smell atrocious.”

“Thanks for that,” Cassian gave a dry laugh, “very kind of you to say.” 

“No, really–I would know. I got a good whiff in the alleyway when we were–” She cut herself off abruptly, and were it not difficult to tell with the strange lighting of the fresher and the darkness of the hallway dividing her face, he might have said he saw a faint blush creep across her face. “Anyways,” she gestured somewhat awkwardly to the fresher behind her, “all yours.” 

But he still couldn’t shake the sense that something was troubling her, and as she stepped into the hallway–her shoulder brushing against him–instinct compelled him to call after her, “Jyn?” 

She turned and looked back at him. The expression on her face was carefully guarded, giving nothing away, but it was something in her eyes, capturing the light like twin lanterns, that confirmed his suspicions–an uneasiness in them that reminded him of the faraway look that had overcome her in the bar. 

What’s the real reason you’re still awake? he almost asked, before noticing Jyn’s wary, shifting posture and thinking better of it.  “Just…” let me know if there’s anything I can do. But he bit back the words, still too knowing, too familiar, and went with, “Hope you get some sleep.”

Her fingers picked at the threads of the towel that lay across her shoulders. “Yeah,” she murmured, a curious tilt to her head as she slowly turned away. “You too...”

Inside the fresher, the mirror was still fogged with moisture from Jyn’s recent visit and foamy suds from the soap she’d used lingered atop the drain, the minty scent clouding every breath Cassian took. Traces of sweat, blood, and grime from the streets of Morlana One washed away easily enough, but he found the picture of Jyn’s small figure retreating down the shadow soaked hallway remained stubbornly embedded in his thoughts. 

On the day he’d met her, he’d learned the hard way just how resistant she could be to the help of another, and what had happened mere hours ago on the streets of Famu only served to remind him further of her stubbornness. 

Which was why, even after his feet automatically carried him to her door instead of his own, he hesitated–hand wavering over its surface and a million thoughts buzzing through his head. 

She might resent him for any further attempt at assistance, she might assume that he was there for all the wrong reasons... 

The door flew open before he could make up his mind, revealing Jyn in the entryway, blaster in hand and leveled at his stomach, her eyes blazing. 

It was the second time in less than a day that she had pointed a gun at him, and in retrospect a part of him knew he should have expected this might happen; as it was he nearly jumped out of his skin. “No, no, no, Jyn. Jyn, it’s me.” 

“ Kark , Cass–do you know how close I just came to shooting you?”

Pretty fucking close, he guessed. 

If she caught the ashen look on his face, she gave no signs of concern. Instead, she leaned past him to scan the hallway behind, “What’s wrong?” she demanded. 

“We’re fine,” he said, nudging her back into the entryway–out of sight from any unlikely wandering eyes. He put his hand on her forearm, gently pushing till she grudgingly lowered her weapon. “Nothing’s wrong. I just came to check on you.”

She stilled, staring up at him with a mix of puzzlement and surprise, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his chin. “Oh…”

Now that his heart rate had returned to normal and he could think clearly again, he couldn’t resist. “Cass?” he asked her with a slight smirk. 

“Shut up,” she muttered, though she mirrored his expression. “I’m still armed.”

He didn’t tell her that Cass was also what his family and friends called him, that he liked the idea of being able to place her in that category. 

“Anyways,” he forced himself to lean away, clearing his throat. “It just seemed like maybe there was something bothering you,” he gestured to the blaster in her hand, “like you were on edge.”

The corners of her lips fell, and he almost regretted bringing it up at all–regretted ending whatever rare flash of carelessness she’d managed to seize. “I’m fine,” she answered, words sounding more sigh than truth.

His gaze lingered on her hand, firmly gripping Clem’s old blaster. “Looks like it…” he murmured.

He caught the twitch of her shoulders tightening, the brief flicker of a glare jumping across her face. But the irritation vanished as soon as it appeared, replaced by a look, not quite of surren der, but of something close to it; if not trust, understanding. “The pair that followed us,” she said at last. “Seeing them brought up some things from my past that I’d rather forget. Between them and what happened on Morlana today I guess I’m just a bit…unsettled.”

Cassian ran his fingers through his hair hoping the movement would distract from the color he felt rising in his cheeks. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of what had happened between him and Jyn in the alley, but the idea that fear of the pair that had followed them had kept her awake, while he had been tossing and turning recalling how much he’d enjoyed that particular encounter, did make him feel a bit guilty. 

Jyn seemed not to have noticed his fidgeting. She was pressing her back into the doorframe opposite where he stood, tips of her boots nearly touching his own. 

The boots served as an indication of just how far from rest she had been, ready to run at a moment’s notice. “I’m sorry, Jyn,” he said, studying what hints of exhaustion she had let slip. (Slouching shoulders, bleary eyes, the barely perceptible sway as she shuffled her weight from foot to foot.) “The mess with the corpos…you wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me.”

“Actually, I think it’s the other way around,” she quipped, with a slight smile that quickly faded into something more serious. Her eyes met his and held for a long moment, sending a rush of warmth to his core. “I’m definitely not ‘ glad’ I’m here,” she admitted, “but I am glad you are.”

He had to resist the urge to step closer to her, something about the softness in her voice like strings, tugging at his insides. Looking pointedly at the blaster still in her hand he said, “I could stand watch outside your door, wake you if there’s someone coming.”

“That’s–”

“The least I can do for landing you in all this trouble?” he offered; a gentle push. When was the last time she’d had someone to watch her back? Look out for her? Ferrix might not have been his choice–would never replace what he had known on Kenari–but at least he had Brasso. At least he had Bix, Bee, Clem–Maarva in her own occasionally misguided ways. Even if they didn’t always understand him, he knew they cared for him. 

Jyn’s mouth was pressed into a thoughtful line, teeth pulling at her lower lip. 

“I promise if anyone shows up I’ll wake you up so you can do the honors.”

“Alright, alright,” she said, shaking her head. “But if you linger in the hallway you’ll only draw unnecessary attention.” She stepped backwards into the room, “I guess you’d better come in...”

Her suite was a mirror to his own–if not slightly narrower–with the same hollow, sterile quality; all white walls and bedding, with ugly tan furniture and the smell of cleaning chemicals. But there was something about standing in such a space with another person–standing in it with Jyn –that seemed to soften some of the room’s coarser features.  

She stopped awkwardly at the end of the bed and turned to face him, waving at a chair placed in a corner by the window. “I’m not convinced it was designed for sitting. I think it’s main use is decoration. Or maybe punishment...” It was her way of offering him an out, making it clear that–regardless of any anxiety she was feeling–she didn’t need this, she was just fine on her own thank you. 

He walked towards the chair and dragged it to where Jyn was standing, turned it to face the door. 

She rolled her eyes at him as he sat down–the chair giving an ominous screech–but he noticed that before she climbed into bed, she took a moment to remove her boots, lips curving in a small smile as she stretched cramped toes. If nothing else, he’d given her that bit of relief.

He forced his attention onto the door as she settled; messing with the sleeves of her shirt, pulling the covers over her legs, smacking at the pillows with her palms. The habits of someone unaccustomed to sleeping on a forgiving, cushy surface; he recognized them, knew them well.

Not long after, she gave a heavy sigh. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her roll onto her back, stare at the ceiling–another familiar gesture. “How are you going to function tomorrow on no sleep?” Jyn grumbled. 

“I wasn’t getting any sleep anyways,” Cassian replied with a shrug. He was used to making do on very little rest, it wouldn’t be an issue.  

“Why not?”

He glanced at her, caught her now curled on her side and angled slightly to face him, eyes open and bright with moonlight. Her hair was down, dark strands of it curling on the pillow beneath her head.  Force, she was beautiful. Anyone else and he would’ve been trying to charm his way into the bed to lay beside her. But his intentions tonight were–for once, strangely–more honorable than that. He dragged his eyes away. “Go to sleep, Jyn.”

“Why?” she asked again, still watching him.

He swallowed hard, looked to the door again, and did his best to ignore the burn of her gaze, sending heat up his spine. “I never sleep well.”

He thought for a moment that she had fallen asleep, or else was done talking, but then her voice came again, barely more than a whisper, “Bad dreams?” And there was another question in there, audible only in his mind: You too?

“Bad dreams,” he agreed quietly, pulling his wrist across the arm of his chair to combat a sudden itch. 

Another lapse of silence and then, “What are they about?”

Her words drifted through the air and settled onto his skin like a fine mist, seeped through the surface and into his blood till he could feel her there, a distant echo ringing in his veins. “Go to sleep, Jyn,” he said again, because he didn’t know what else to say–was afraid of what he might say or do if he surrendered to the feeling. 

“The day we met. When I woke up on Ferrix… You were dreaming.”

He squeezed his eyes shut to keep from looking at her, certain it would only result in ruin. A reply came tumbling out of his mouth anyways, “It’s always the same one. My home planet, the day my mother died. My sister…”

“Sister?” Jyn asked, and he could picture the blink of surprise so vividly, he realized just how futile an effort it was to keep his eyes shut.

“Kerri,” he murmured, studying the blurred outlines of the shadows splashed onto the wall; the sound of her name on his lips as sweet as it was painful. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d said it outloud, probably it was on the day he’d lost her. In all the time he had spent searching for her, he had never told anyone her name. As though he had been waiting for her to be the one to bring it back to life. 

“Kerri,” Jyn repeated softly. There was something to the way she said it, syllables like sparks, brightening the room around them, bringing his sister out of the dark hollows of his mind and into the light. Somehow, she knew, “That’s who you were searching for…on Morlana.”

“Yes,” Cassian breathed, still unable to look at her, feeling the steadying weight of her eyes all the same. “When Clem and Maarva found me I was just a kid… I didn’t know what was happening, what they were saying. I tried to tell them, but…she got left behind.” Abandoned. I abandoned her.

“Cassian…” she seemed to be searching for words, but because it was her, he felt that even just the sound of his name said enough. 

He pressed his face into his hands and let out a long, heavy breath. There was lead in his bones, the gravity of a guilt that threatened to pull him down or snap him in two, whichever came first. 

His pain found an echo, Jyn letting out a sigh of her own. “You think it’s your fault,” she said, not a question, a statement. “You think that you could’ve done something different, something that would’ve changed what happened, fixed everything…” 

There was an understanding to her words. Somewhere in her past, there was something she felt responsible for, the same way he did Kerri. He wanted to know what it was, “You had a nightmare…that night on Ferrix.”

“My mother,” Jyn murmured, and out of the corner of his eye he saw sheets rustling, her hand sliding beneath the covers to reach for her chest, as though to hold something in place. “I watch her die, I watch her killer walk away with–” she swallowed the words. “It’s like you said: always the same.”  

When he turned, he found her staring into a dark corner of the room, one hand squeezing her upper arm, the other tangled in a cord that hung from her neck–her fingers were wrapped tight around something connected to it. “Was that hers?”

She opened her palm, revealing a translucent crystal, glowing as though it had absorbed every spare sliver of moonlight from its surroundings. “It was,” she answered softly.

He wanted to tell her that whatever had happened, it wasn’t her fault, but those words had never provided him with any of the relief that was intended, and he knew she would deny them just as vehemently as he always did. 

So instead, he let the quiet persist, sensing her there—far from sleep–and like him, running through faint wisps of memories again and again until they turned to hard, painful knots. 

But at least one of them needed to get some rest. Cassian called out to her again, playfully, trying to cast the sadness from the room, “You should really go to sleep.”

“And you should mind your own business,” Jyn retorted, a smirk emerging in her voice. “If I’d known you were going to spend the whole time nagging I’d never have let you in here.”

‘There are other things I could do with the time if you prefer….’ He bit his lip to keep his smart mouth from landing him in trouble. 

The bed gave a low creak, and Cassian watched, puzzled, as Jyn sat up, slowly reaching behind her for the pillows, then yanking at the covers until she had pulled the ends free from under the mattress.

“What are you doing?” he asked, when she began to toss the pillows towards the end of the bed. 

She slowly clambered after the pillows, moving closer to him. His question went unanswered as she carefully rearranged herself, feet pointing to the headboard, head resting atop a pillow situated at the end of the bed, just beside his chair. 

She left one pillow free, not bothering to look at him as she gently pushed it towards him. “That one’s for you,” she murmured. 

There was a tightness in his chest as he reached for the item and settled it behind his neck, the surface of it smelling of her freshly-washed skin and damp, perfumed hair. 

“I wanted a better shot at the door,” Jyn told him. “Just in case.”

He didn’t quip at the lack of trust her statement implied, didn’t try to argue the obvious (her position before had offered a better angle). Instead, he glanced to his left, where he could just see the soft, pale curve of her cheek. “Good night, Jyn,” he breathed into the silence.   

“Good night, Cassian,” she said, voice muffled as she buried her face deeper into her pillow. 

And he couldn’t be sure, but he thought there might have been a genuine note of ease to the steady exhale she gave, before she finally shut her eyes. 

[prentissluvr]

Congrats on 200 followers!! I love your fics sm, I sent in the mutual pining req and I'm sooo excited to read it, I know you'll kill it as you usually do <3

Could I please get a level 2 for sam winchester?

2 - I love reading, my favorite genres are poetry, Russian lit, and mysteries! I love learning about new things and knowing a little bit of everything. I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching films very much!

4 - giving : quality time and gift giving. I kinda want to spend all my time with the people I like, lol and I love giving gifts to the people I love, usually something of sentimental value or something that they mentioned in passing, I love the way their faces light up!!

Receiving - quality time and physical touch

5 - I love casual intimacy very much! Just mindlessly touching each other all the time, mindlessly playing with each other's hair, holding hands, laying on each other's laps

6- I love petnames! Mostly the basic ones like like sweetheart, baby and honey

10 - smart, empathic, playful and introverted

11. I'm very afraid of failure and disappointing the people I love

Thank you very much!! I hope you have a lovely day ❤️

hello sweetheart!! tysm for the congrats and sweet words!! and thank you for this request and the mutual pining one! i had a great time with that one (and this ofc hehe) it really got my writer brain to do lots of work and thinking in a good way lolol <33 on to the relationship hcs!

+ .⠄ ꒱ SIT BACK, RELAX, AND IMAGINE . . .

[ 🖇 ] so basically you're telling me that sam would literally be so in love with you !!

[ 🖇 ] i’m very willing to bet that sam loves russian lit, so he love love loves that it’s one of your favorite genres

[ 🖇 ] he does his very best to memorise your favorite books or the ones you haven’t read yet but want to so that he can buy them for you

[ 🖇 ] one of his favorite things is having mini book club with just the two of you, chatting about books you recommended each other or read together

[ 🖇 ] reading to each other before bed <3 he’s a total sucker for that, he feels so relaxed when you read to him and so so proud and soft when you fall asleep to his voice

[ 🖇 ] sam absolutely adores your thirst for knowledge, it’s one of his favorite things about you and he loves sharing that with you

[ 🖇 ] he always shares the new things he learns with you!!

[ 🖇 ] aside from literature, sam is a little less well-versed in other art forms, so he really appreciates learning about them from your creative hobbies

[ 🖇 ] your ability to hold witty and playful banter and joke around while also appreciating and doing well with in depth conversations is so so important to and adored by sam

[ 🖇 ] he’s super witty as well, and loves to joke around and be lighthearted, but that side of you that’s willing to have long and deep conversations makes him really really appreciate you even more

[ 🖇 ] sam loves to have movie nights with you as well!

[ 🖇 ] once again, he appreciates your appreciation of this sort of art form as well! plus they’re perfect for cuddling hehe

[ 🖇 ] modern/indie rock might not be sam’s favorite at first, but he really comes to love it as you expose him to more (plus he associates that genre with you now and that can make him love anything)

[ 🖇 ] your love languages are also similar! his most important is also quality time, even if it’s in something as small as researching for a case together

[ 🖇 ] every big and small moment where he gets to spend time with you is so important to him

[ 🖇 ] and as a giver, i think one of his other love languages is physical touch, so that’s perfect!

[ 🖇 ] he may not be huge on pda, but he loves to hold you and to hold hands, etc

[ 🖇 ] just like you, his favorite kind of physical affection is that casual intimacy

[ 🖇 ] all of those things you mentioned; mindlessly playing with each other's hair, holding hands, laying on each other's laps, plus hugs i might mention, are his favorite

[ 🖇 ] and in terms of your love language in gift giving! that’s sort of uncharted territory for sam

[ 🖇 ] he’s very unused to receiving gifts in general, so even if it’s not often, to have you gifting him things, especially those with sentimental value (his favorite kind), is very very special to him

[ 🖇 ] he might be a little awkward about it and feels like he should be giving you gifts as well, then feels bad because he’s not yet the best gift giver

[ 🖇 ] but! you have to remind him that he gifts you books all the time, and that sort of this is perfect for you

[ 🖇 ] over time, he grows more comfortable with gift giving and ends up loving that same thing you do; the way your face lights up when he gives you something sweet!

[ 🖇 ] in terms of pet names, you two match up perfectly once again!

[ 🖇 ] these are the exact pet names that sam loves to use for you and secretly loves for you to use for him as well <33 for him, the basics of sweetheart, baby, and honey are the best!

[ 🖇 ] once again, these personality traits are a lovely fit with sam

[ 🖇 ] intelligence (of whatever kind), and even more so empathy, are incredibly important traits to sam

[ 🖇 ] your playfulness and introversion are huge bonuses!! he thinks your introversion is cute, and it makes him feel comfortable because he’s introverted too!

[ 🖇 ] and lastly, we come to your fears; sam does his best to makes you understand that failure is okay, and doesn’t/shouldn’t equate to disappointing your loved ones!

[ 🖇 ] sam has spent his life feeling like all he does is disappoint his loved ones, so he’s really understanding of that fear, but he also has the perspective to understand that you’re often not the one who’s really at fault

[ 🖇 ] of course sam has messed up and it was his fault LOL but he knows that, for example, dean still loves him

[ 🖇 ] and, in terms of sam disappointing his father by going to stanford or the likes, sam knows that he was doing what was best for him, so he’s always encouraging you to do what’s best for you, regardless of if that’s something someone close to you might not like

[ 🖇 ] basically you’re pretty much perfect for each other so i got a little carried away here but who’s complaining! my job is to feed the delusions and that’s exactly what i’m doing <33

[stevebabey]

SO, i’m not the best writer, but seeing your latest post abt stevie and the necklaces spurred this ramble so enjoy <33 also hope u have a good day and sorry for dropping this in ur inbox <33

•••

steve harrington is 100% the type to put your necklaces on for you. rings too. bracelets, anklets, really any-freaking-thing as an excuse to put his hands on you (in a not total skeeze-ball way thank you very much)

he likes that you rely on him, for the little things most he thinks, when you smile at him and move your hair out of the way for him to clasp your necklace on.

the necklace itself is a dainty thing he bought you for your year anniversary, and even if steve himself thinks you deserve something better, it’s your favorite piece of jewelry and you refuse to take it off other than to shower and sleep. (granted you used to sleep in it, before you realized it would cause your hair to tangle so you stopped).

and one day, steve is surprised to see you hunched at your dresser sobbing- on a day where it feels like nothing can go right and this one thing is weighing too heavily on your shoulders. and when he pulls you back to see what you’re holding, he has to stifle a laugh at the tangled chain that you’re cradling as if it was going to slip through your fingers.

and so, as calmly as steve harrington can ask (which is pretty calmly he likes to think) he asks for a pair of tweezers, and for you to go wash your face off in the sink and take a breather. you do that, of course, because who wouldn’t listen to steve harrington, who talks to you in moments of panic as if he’s scared you’re going to leave. (and he’ll never tell you, but he makes wishes at night that you won’t do just that).

and when you come back, face clean of tear tracks and actually being able to breathe- you feel silly. silly that you let a necklace of all things cause a full on come-apart. and so you’re nervous when you go back into your room, because you know your boyfriend is in there and you’re painfully afraid that he’s going to make fun of you and…and…

oh.

you’d seen steve harrington doing a bunch of domestic things, too many to count on both hands. from grocery shopping, to babysitting, to wearing a cheesy apron and grilling, you’d felt like you’d seen it all.

but to walk in and see him, big hands with your neon pink tweezers between his fingers, balancing your silly tangled up necklace on his knee as he sat cross legged on your bed… you think you fall all over again.

you sit in silence while he gets it untangled, and when he does, you shift your hair out of the way and allow him to clip it on for you. he presses soft kisses on the nape of your neck after, even when you murmur you’re apology of blowing it out of proportion and you’ll understand if he thinks your silly.

steve harrington doesn’t respond to that.

he wants to say, and he thinks he will later, when you’re cuddled together in bed, nose to nose- that nothing you do is silly. that how you react is normal because your human, and he loves you so much that his chest aches.

but he doesn’t say that now, not when your voice is heavy with what could become tears. instead, steve simply takes your left hand, spins that little ring you have on your thumb (and totally doesn’t picture a ring on your fourth finger thank you very much), and asks if you want to go on a date with him that night to get your mind off the bad.

and when you agree, because you definitely agree, steve simply smiles at you- and uses your necklace to bring your lips to his.

says ur not the best writer and then drops the most beautiful shit in my inbox 😭

like?? god, getting so used to him doting on you in that way that you just pull your hair aside, it’s instinct now, because steve is always there n ready to help?

calming you down, fixing the necklace, picturing a ring on the fOURTH FINGER!!! and offering the date to distract u from the shit day 😩 god FUCK and USING THE NECKLACE TO PULL YOU IN FOR A KISS? EVIL!!! U ARE EVIL FOR SAYING THIS!!! HE SO FUCKING WOULD he’s so boyfriend i’ll die, i’d do unspeakable things to make him mine

thank u so much for dropping this splendid gift into my inbox it made my bad week ASTRONOMICALLY better <3 i enjoyed ur ramble so much & i hope u have the best day MWAH

[lady-a-stuff]

I honestly don't think Shadow and Bone in Netflix completely erased/ignored Inej's trauma. But I do think they imply more than they say.

Like they let people know she and her brother was kidnapped and she was sold to a brothel, in the stitching scene in season 1 it is heavily implied that she was a victim of sadistic abuse by the clients of the menagerie. She is always stating that she can't go back to the Menagerie and Amita puts a crack in her voice everytime she talks about that because she's terrified of going back to that place. This all shows (or implies?) that she endured abuses.

Also the way we have men objectifying her "you work at the menagerie, so you belong to our boss". We have the fight scene with the butcher: he is a man, the way he is pinning down Inej and sniffing her hair. I mean these were all choices made by writers and directors that subtly points to her time at the Menagerie and I love that Amita pointed out that having a man on top of her would bring bad flashbacks making her freeze (and you don't even need to have read the books to understand that, only plus one a girl forced to work in a brothel plus one having a man restraining her and you will see it it will bring back the abuses she suffered)

And I see a lot of people saying that the hallucination scene reduced Inej to just a love interest, but: right in the beginning of her hallucination Kaz says "For once don't disappear. Stay" but we don't actually see him saying this, when he is first shown in this scene he is completely stand, like he never said anything (again this was all choices made by the direction) and this can be a way of hitting that it's not Kaz saying this, it's Inej, her wish to stay, her fear to disappear when she finds herself alone with a man, we are inside of her mind after all. And it also hints at the book scene

But what might have happened if he’d spoken that night? If he had willingly offered her some part of his heart? What if he had come to her, laid his gloves aside, drawn her to him, kissed her mouth? Would she have pulled him closer? Kissed him back? Could she have been herself in such a moment, or would she have broken apart and vanished, a doll in his arms, a girl who could never quite be whole?

In the books she wonders if she would vanish if he laid his gloves aside, in the show there is a request to not vanish.

People seems to assume that the hallucination is only about Kaz being more open to her and she is heartbroken because she realizes that Kaz would never lay down his armor for her. The hope she had that he could try for her is lost and for the better because "hope is dangerous".

But I also think that there's nothing in the scene that shows us it's only about that. The whole scene is inside her mind, it begins with him asking her to stay, it has him asking for permission to touch her, why this isn't about her wanting to have autonomy over her body, to have something consensual with someone she wants to, but also being afraid that she won't be able to because of her past and traumas? And why someone that only watched the show wouldn't understand that?

So they didn't ignore the fact that Inej was sexually abused, slaved and objectified. It's quite subtle though. It's in the details like the stitching scene, it implies more than say. They could've being louder about that? Of course. But they completely ignored her trauma to a point that people that didn't read the book won't understand that? I don't think so (and I say this as someone who watched the season one without having read the books)

What is not there is Tante Heleen. In the books Heleen was Inej villain, she says

"But sometimes I think what they did to me wasn’t the worst of it.” (...) “Tante Heleen wasn’t always cruel,” Inej continued. “She’d hug you, hold you close, then pinch you so hard, she broke skin. You never knew if a kiss was coming or a slap. One day you were her best girl, and the next day she’d bring you to her office and tell you she was selling you to a group of men she’d met on the street. She’d make you beg her to keep you.”

In the show though Tante Helleen isn't this figure. In the show we have nothing saying Heleen behaved the way she did in the books, the psychological torture that she made (making girls beg to stay in a brothel like??). Honestly? I would've liked more if Tante Heleen had more prominent part in Inej's trauma, if they showed us this psychological torture that Heleen made, but they decided to keep this out and maybe this explains why show!inej acts different from book!inej when it comes to Heleen. Though I still think it is weird that Inej didn't even flinch when talk with/about the woman who enslaved her (but I understand that she doesn't really care about her dead considering that it didn't change anything for her cause right away there is someone else replacing Heleen and owning her indenture).

Anyways, I think the show gives the viewers enough hints to what Inej suffered and just because the show doesn't show Inej struggling with her traumas in a more blatant way that they don't exist

[knoxs2nd]

featherine/ikuko's a tough egg for me to crack, but i feel like the more i think about her circumstances and her relationship with tohya, the sadder i get...

she’s the “witch of theater going, drama, and spectating” as a nod to being the closest person to the rokkenjima incident without actually being involved or connected. she’s in an incredibly unique position of only having a personal relationship with tohya, but having more intimate knowledge than almost anyone in the world about what happened and that includes the one person who really might *deserve* to know more: ange.

ikuko is closer to the truth than ange is, even though it’s ange’s family and ange’s grief. it's only by some stroke of fate that ikuko knows, although ikuko herself isn’t personally invested.

so, featherine reaches out to ange. featherine thinks ange should know the whole truth. she knows the truth, and she’s just a spectator, so how come the last ushiromiya can’t know? featherine and battler butt heads over this very question from ange's reintroduction in ep6 to ep8.

now i want to pull back and talk about her relationship with tohya and how it influences her. tohya’s a tormented man, who tries to bring peace to battler's memory through fantasy. he does this through preserving the truth of the ushiromiyas, not as evil people, but as human beings.

but ikuko must see it as a futile effort. tohya is trying so hard to assuage battler's memory, but he’s still anguished about the whole ordeal. think of how much he hates the witch hunters who use his family's deaths for fun and how much he's scared of/worried about ange!

at some point, tohya is so tortured by battler's memory and afraid of losing himself that he tries to commit suicide. ikuko tells him then to let go of battler, but tohya still doesn’t. he still soldiers on with the forgeries to achieve a fantasy salvation for the ushiromiyas.

finally, ikuko must decide she can’t keep watching this. even though she’s been a spectator and uninvolved, she has to step in and interfere. even if the truth is painful, at least it’ll bring definitive closure

now, featherine’s the “witch of theater going” who wants to forever be entertained, right? so why would she try to reveal the truth, and put an end to the catbox that’d amused her for years?

i’m proposing she wanted to put an end to what she sees as a painful, fruitless search from tohya, to put battler’s memory to rest, and from ange, for the truth of oct 5th.

if people know what happened, the rudolf family culprit theory will be solidified. they’ll be remembered as villains, but at least people and their ever-fleeting whims would move on from this incident and the theorizing that was hurting tohya and ange would die down.

instead of letting tohya and ange experience the pain of holding out for hope of a happy ending (for tohya, that'd mean immortalizing the ushiromiyas in the golden land, and for ange, it'd be the return of her family) ikuko thought it’d be more merciful to end their dreams now.

(as an aside, didn't our favorite message bottle writer also talk about the pain of hope that never bore fruit, no matter how long you waited?)

of course, at the very end, ikuko changes her mind about revealing eva's diary. she thought ange learning the truth would “end” rokkenjima for her for good. instead, it turned ange to battler's side, of wanting to protecting the catbox and preserving their family’s name. that’s when ikuko swallows her pride, and decides it really is best for her to stay out of it and let tohya and ange make their own choices. she really doesn’t have the right to interfere. she's just a spectator, after all....

[booasaur]

I think that Miss Adair loves Ms. True, but Ms. True doesn't love her back. She's too afraid to. "And pain despises hope." Ms. True is too broken to allow herself to love. Will Miss Adair heal her?

I felt like I was forgetting something in light of The Nevers coming back and finally remembered these asks from like two years ago. D:

When you sent this, only three eps had aired, so we got three more eps of characterization, and I think eventually this was mostly borne out. Not romantically, and I do think Amalia loves Penance, but it's certainly true that she was also holding herself back, we later find out why. Hopefully in the remaining half of the season, that connection is still at the center of the show.

And another anon:

So I know that a lot of people are disappointed about True Penance and yeah it's shit that even tho there has been so much progress it's still not enough for a show like this to go there but can we talk about how funny it is that Bonnie is the only characters that has the guts to look at Penance, look at the rest of them and be like "Y'all realize that this girl is more dangerous than all of us combined right?" And every other character automatically goes "how dare you? Shut your dirty mouth!" And start thinking of 1000 different ways to kill her do even suggesting that sweet kind perfect Penance could ever be like them/worse than them even tho Bonnie is actually right and Penance has the ability to be super dangerous lol

Okay, so this was after ep 4... But still, it's about intention more than ability, right, so that's probably why everyone bristles. Even though it's true that sometimes the most protective kindest people are the scariest when let loose, Penance's mercy-first approach sort of defines her.

And another anon:

I just wanted to add something to the shippers. This is HBO. HBO literally sucks. Im actually thinking "Amalia" is probably something more pan sexual and just has sex and does love Pence, in the way a alien who has no prior idea of relationships would. With that being said as a shipper always look to what the actors say and to the best of my knowledge the actress who play Pence ships with Auggie a bit. Having been burned like all the times, thats where I am now. Look to the actors because they know the most. But again just because "Amalia" is pan doesn't mean Pence actually is either. In the end good luck, I hope all the shippers are happy. But seriously HBO is the worst and they arent invested in couples. After episode 2 my cold dead heart was like they are gonna kill Amalia and make Sarah the new lead lol.

Okay, so this is after ep 6... Hmm, but I don't think Amalia is an alien? I do believe she's bi, though, but no, actors' feelings aside, I don't think the writers were intending anything romantic. And since they weren't, I'm not sure why HBO's stance on couples would matter or result in killing off Amalia, she's clearly the lead on which the show hinges.

[merrock]

Hi. I want to ask how do you handle writing for multiple characters and how do you not get exhausted? Debating on bringing two but I don't know how I'd handle balancing two at one time without losing muse for one.

Hi there, anon!

Starting this off by saying that all of this is going to be from my perspective, and different writers in our group might have different pieces of advice, or that what works for me might not work for someone else, but I'm going to try to help!

Let's stick with the example of playing two characters. Make sure that both of those characters are different, and make sure that you put as much time, thought and effort into both of them. But! Play two different ages, two different careers, live in two different areas, play two different personalities... you get my drift. This helps prevent the feeling that everything is kind of 'same thing, different face' when writing replies. It can be easy to favor a character, and it happens to all of us -- just be sure that you enjoy writing both characters. Don't put all of your effort into one and then shrug off the other with only the basics, your muse will always pull towards the one you've put more of your time into.

Here, we try to remind everyone that being 100% caught up with replies at all times isn't really the goal so much as having a steady, reliable stream of replies coming out when you're able to, and making sure that you're just trying your best! It's cool to be caught up, but it's even cooler to be contributing to dash and having that active flow of back and forth fun. So especially when playing multiples, set the pressure to always be caught up aside and just enjoy writing them.

But when you are writing them... find a balance. What works for me is going by the timestamps of a reply and setting a goal. In your case, with two muses, let's say you decide that you want to do replies from... Tuesday, 12AM until 6PM. Start with Muse A, do those replies, then do that same time period on Muse B. Then go back and do 6PM until 12AM on Muse A... and run out of steam, but when you come back, instead of doing new replies on Muse A, dive right into Muse B. This holds you accountable from favoring one muse over the other and also from keeps your muse higher since you're writing as both consistently (at least in my experience).

I also think that when you have more than one muse, you tend to have a few less replies on each muse than you would if you had one muse... it ends up being the same amount, just spread out a little bit! At least to begin with -- then you can add as your comfort with writing more than one grows. Plus, our players are super patient. They understand if you're working through replies and it takes a while to get back to things -- and they appreciate that patience, too!

I'm hoping that helps a little bit, but yeah -- shortened form: create two characters different enough that you have muse for them as individuals, balance your activity so you're putting the same amount of effort into both, and don't be afraid to take your time and just enjoy writing!

Those of you here in Merrock who are playing multiples -- do you have any advice? Any methods to activity that help you out (other than what I mentioned) that might help this lovely anon?

[maginxlia]

Starring Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Toji and Sukuna Ryomen in How they React to your Death ✰ The headcanons

Rated R

Contain violence and foul language

Trigger warning ⚠️This very sad, contains Violence and Death

Dictionary Y/N is for Your Name

Pronouns outta of this bih

I’m not a angst writer but I do enjoy reading angst ❤️‍🔥I hope I don’t make y’all too sad, half of this was typed up on my iPhone and let me tell you it was work❤️‍🔥I hope y’all have a beautiful weekend❤️‍🔥Thank y’all for all the love and support ❤️‍🔥 Requests open 24/7

Masterlist

Nanami Kento

◦ Nanami slipped into your shared bed alone like he has been doing for a week since you left to visit your family

◦ Like Every time he closes his eyes for slumber, Nanami Dreams about you

Only his dreams of you this night wasn’t his usual dreams of your smile

◦ This dream was odd, you was tearful as you embraced him and it felt like your arms was actually holding him tight like you was afraid to let him go

◦ As soon as you pulled away he was jolted from the dream in a cold sweat

◦ Nanami then notice his phone lighting up with multiple missed calls from foreign numbers, He called the last number to call him and what he heard when the person answered would haunt him for the rest of his days.

◦ Your Eldest cousin: Nanami?? I’m so sorry man. I don’t know how to say this because I never thought I would ever had to but Y/N just died and we need you.

◦ Nanami phone was on ground as the weight world fell unto him

◦ He dressed himself through tears and drove to the airport praying that’s what he heard was a sick prank

◦ Even when he’s on the plane traveling to your home country his prayers didn’t falter

◦ Only when he saw your family mourning did he realized that you were really gone

◦ He is stoic as he helps plans your funeral, He pays for all the expenses and pick out the most extravagant outfit for you to be buried in

◦ He attends the funeral and while he tries to be strong he can’t help but weep when he sees you cold and laying in the casket

◦ He travels back to the place he used to share with you, Home is a word lost and forgotten to Nanami since he buried you

◦ He let work consumes him, Hardly ever sleeping since he was asleep when you took your last breath

◦ Gojo tries to help him even offering him a place to stay and rest but Nanami never takes him up on it

◦ He’s becomes reckless when he’s out on the field of work, Nothing really matters to him anymore including himself

Satoru Gojo

◦ Day was quite ordinary, Gojo kissed you goodbye and headed off to work

He was quite happy, Megumi training was coming along beautifully and the day was going by smoothly

◦ Only when He saw Nanami paled sadden face did he feel something was nauseatingly off

◦ Nanami Suddenly embraced him in a hug

◦ Nanami: There’s been a terrible accident, Y/N name was called in the list of people being rushed to the hospital in critical condition. I’ll pick up your work.

◦ Gojo was deeply in shock, he had to have Megumi drive him to the hospital

◦ At the hospital he was optimistic especially when the nurses sat Megumi and him down with impression that a doctor will talk about your condition

◦ All he remembers is the doctor telling him you had died in transit to the hospital

◦ Gojo had fainted.

◦ He handles your death poorly. He clings to everything that was you even going as far to hold up your funeral preparations.

◦ he just can’t handle saying goodbye to you

◦ Only when one of your oldest family members pulled him aside and had

A gently told him to “let that baby rest” did he finally plan your funeral

He attends it with Megumi as a broken man

◦ When he finally back home he locks himself in what used to be y’all shared room, Never leaving the bed in which you used to sleep in

◦ Megumi brings him food everyday leaving it on the floor by the door, Gojo eats little bit of food but it’s not much

◦ Nanami visits him and talk to him about what’s going on with his students but Gojo hardly respond back

◦ Gojo stay in the room for two months only leaving because the room barely smell like you anymore

◦ He buys a bottle of your favourite scent and spray himself with it everyday before work

◦ Gojo is 100% serious now, Jokes and pranks are long forgotten things

◦ He NEVER sleeps with anybody else because he doesn’t want to corrupt your memory

◦ He takes long trips every month to visit your grave and putting a big bouquet of flowers on your headstone

Geto Suguru

◦ Day was normal for Geto, He went to his favourite cafe to get You a muffin and some coffee for his self

◦ When he heard other patrons talking about a crazed sorcerer ripping a town apart

◦ To be honest he really wasn’t paying attention until they asked the barista to turn the news on and that’s when he heard the town name

◦ He stare at the tv in shock, that’s where you work at

◦ Geto starts trying to call you but all he gets is your voicemail, He only stop ◦ when they said your name amongst the confirmed dead victims, He screamed and broke his phone

◦ Geto sends your body back to your family and apologised to them for what happened to you

◦ He blames himself for your death, this is truly karma in his eyes

◦ All those years of hating non sorcerers and the one to kill you? Was a fucking sorcerer

◦ You were always too good for him, you accepted him for all he was good and bad. You showed him how to be a better person and a caring man; How did he reward you? By bringing death to your door.

◦ In a hypothetical light he hunts down the sorcerer that killed you and rip them in two

◦ He doesn’t attend your funeral, he doesn’t deserve to say goodbye to you

◦ Geto folds into himself, he’s simply no longer superior to anyone

◦ In this moment he really wish he didn’t burn so many bridges, he really need a friend

◦ He grasps on to anything that belonged to you with hopes of just feeling the love you shined around yourself

◦ He hates himself for what happened to you and wish death upon himself so he can just see you again.

Fushiguro Toji

◦ Blood, Toji spilled Plenty of it but if someone had told him that he would see his love’s blood outside the home he shared with them, He probably would’ve killed them on the spot.

◦ But there he was looking at your blood cover the sidewalk, He dropped the food he was carrying onto the ground and pushed by neighbors who turned into spectators

◦ He was going use all his knowledge to stop your bleeding but when he touched you he felt the coldness of your skin, he Felt no pulse and no heartbeat

◦ Toji stood up emotionless and asked the neighbors what happened

He was able to piece together that some piece of shit tried to rob you and when he didn’t get what he wanted he decided to take your life

◦ Toji is too enraged to grieve so he busy himself with Hunting down your killer but first he makes sure to properly lay you to rest

◦ He informs your family and he sends you back to them

◦ He empty out his bank account since he couldn’t give you a wedding you deserve so he’ll give you the grandest funeral that money can buy

◦ He doesn’t attend your funeral, He’s hell bent on finding the bastard who ripped you out of his life

◦ Toji Uses all his connections to find the scum

◦ Finally cornering the unfortunate bastard in a dark alley, Toji quickly renders the bastard unconscious

◦ Unfortunate bastard was found in abandoned warehouse Tortured and beaten into a unrecognizable mess

◦ Did this act of violence bring you back?? No. But that night Toji sat with your killers blood on his hands weeping about you

◦ The man you love is gone, Toji is colder than the day he first met you and whole new kind of unstable

◦ He swears off love and hates when he see couples happy

◦ Your home? He hasn’t step foot in there since you passed, He’s undeserving of a place that you cared for and loved

◦ He has a app on his phone, He use it to turn the lights on every night at the time you used to illuminate the place and off at the same time you used to go to bed

Ryomen Sukuna

◦ Yuuji was eating with Nobara and Toge when Megumi walked up asking him the he hear the news about you being in the hospital

◦ Shocked Yuuji started calling around and with the help of Megumi & Nobara They found out what happened to you and what hospital you were at

◦ Upon Hearing that you were badly beaten by some young Hoodlums, It took everything in Yuuji to calm Sukuna down

◦ Yuuji: Now is not the time for revenge Sukuna, Y/N still has a fighting chance

◦ Sukuna listened to Yuuji words and realized That they hold truth to them

◦ Yuuji Stays besides your unconscious body in the hospital, He informs your family too

◦ Yuuji never leaves your side only when Your family come in do he leaves your room, Neglecting his other responsibilities in the process

◦ Sukuna get a small moment of control to talk to you, Swearing on everything he is to help you through this just please wake up

◦ The day your heart stops beating, Shocks the hell out of Yuuji. He can’t understand, you was doing better and Stronger.; How could this happen??

◦ Sukuna becomes uncharacteristically quiet as Yuuji bawls his eyes out after losing another person he cared for

◦ Yuuji Sends your body back to your family and He helps with your final preparations as much as he can

◦ He’s in no shape to attend your funeral but he somehow manages

◦ When he makes it to your place he’s overcome with grief

◦ See our poor Yuuji is about to through hell, Sukuna’s emotion, Pain and Grief is bleeding out on to Yuuji

◦ The grief is so intense that all Yuuji can do is lie in your bed, He can’t even eat anymore without getting sick

◦ Nobra and Megumi tries to help him eat and go out but nothing can raise him

◦ Yuuji doesn’t know how long he’s been in your bed, was it days or weeks or months??? Doesn’t matter time won’t bring you back

◦ While Yuuji is weakened by grief Sukuna takes ultimate Control

◦ Sukuna: This undeserving world destroyed a beautiful soul, I will not rest until the land is red with the blood of those who stripped my Y/N from me

◦ Bless those who try to stand in the king of curses way He will recklessly tear them to shreds be it Sorcerer or Nonsorcer, Nothing matters to him anymore.

◦ This is the worst ending.

Reblogs, Likes, Comments and Requests are Appreciated and Loved❤️‍🔥 Please don’t Steal My Shit

[panda-writes-kpop]

Yoohyeon - For You, Darling (Requested!)

A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! I hope everyone is well. 💗 Here's some fluff, and this feels fitting since this song reminds me of winter and it snowed for the first time in my area!

TW: Reader drives a car

Summary: Yoohyeon suffers from some serious writer's block while working on the lyrics for her solo song. While trying to relax and unwind from work, she realizes that she has the best inspiration right in front of her: you! ❤️

♡ Masterlist ♡

Darling~

Please call me with your voice

Softly tickle my ears and heart

Yoohyeon sighs before setting the pencil in her hand down.

You can do this, Yoohyeon. It’s just a song for your fans.

She had spent hours upon hours trying to compose some lyrics for her solo track on their newest full album, but nothing was coming to Yoohyeon’s mind.

Do I want to write about heartbreak or love? Why is this so difficult?

The phone rings, which startles Yoohyeon.

I could use a distraction right about now.

Yoohyeon quickly rushes to the phone so she can answer whoever is calling.

“Hello?”

“Baby!” Your cheerful voice comes through the phone as clear as a bright summer day. “I missed talking to you! How have you been?”

Yoohyeon's heart skips a beat as she answers you.

“I’m doing well, darling. Have you been doing well?”

“Well, I’m doing better since I got to talk with you. I love hearing the sound of your voice! It’s one of my favorite sounds in the world.”

“Y/N…” Yoohyeon trails off as she blushes heavily. “You’re too sweet.”

“No, I’m only telling the best person in the world how great they are!” You argue back. “Well, I should go since I don’t want to keep you for too long. I promise I’ll visit you tomorrow, alright? Hang in there!”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too!” You happily say before hanging up the phone.

Yoohyeon stares at the phone for a minute before looking back to her desk.

A love song it is, then.

Morning to night

Holding you tight

Here, inside my mind

My eyes are only for you

A knock on her front door causes Yoohyeon to abandon her songwriting.

I wonder who it could be…

Yoohyeon opens the door, only to be hug-attacked by you.

“I missed you, Yooh! You haven’t visited me since you’ve started preparing for the comeback… so I came to see you!” You pull away from her. “I ordered take-out just before I came here, and I’m having it sent here.”

“You’re literally the best, Y/N. I couldn’t ask for a better partner.” Yoohyeon pulls you in for a short, warm kiss before letting go.

“Only the best for the best!” You smile at her before walking around. “How���s the songwriting going?”

“About as awful as always.” Yoohyeon admits.

“Aww, baby, is there any way I can help?” You tilt your head at her.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Well, can I offer you a distraction? How about some cuddles and a movie night?” You drag Yoohyeon to the couch, and she doesn’t resist you all.

“You always know just what I need.” Yoohyeon wraps her arms around you as you do the same.

“Of course I do! I wouldn’t be the best partner in the world if I didn’t!”

Yoohyeon laughs at your remark before focusing on the warmth of your arms, and the movie on her television screen.

Baby, please don't leave me

This night is long and lonely so

Put everything aside, hug me 안아 줘

Eventually, the movie night had to come to an end, and you slowly began to rise from your spot on the couch.

“Feeling better, Yooh?”

She hums softly, looking at you through sleepy eyes.

“You’re not gonna leave me alone, right? Please don’t leave me.” Yoohyeon softly whispers.

“Yooh, I’d never leave you alone if you wanted company. I can stay as long as you need me to.” You reassure Yoohyeon.

“How about forever?” She dreamily says.

“Okay, maybe not that long, but I can stay the night and make you breakfast in the morning. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good, beautiful.”

“Still as charming as ever, even when you’re half-awake.” You hold back laughter as you take Yoohyeon’s hand. “Let’s get you to bed, sleepyhead. You and I both need the rest.”

“I agree.” Yoohyeon mumbles before shuffling behind you.

I couldn’t ask for a better partner. Y/N is perfect for me in every way.

You lead her to her bedroom, and mere moments after her head hits the pillow, she’s asleep.

On the radio playing our favorite song

Show me what I need babe

Love me more, love me more, ooh (Ooh-ooh)

“Thank you so much for driving me to work today. The company car couldn’t come, and I-”

“Don’t mention it.” You say as Yoohyeon climbs in the car. “I’m always here when you need me.”

“I know, but I feel bad when you have to do stuff like this.” Yoohyeon sighs as you pull out from the parking spot.

“It’s not a big deal, Yooh. I like doing things like this, just to show you how much I love and care for you.”

“Really, honey?” Yoohyeon softly looks at you as her heart pounds. “I’m so glad that I’m yours.”

“Me too.” You brightly smile at her before turning on the radio.

Of course, at that tender moment while you’re waiting in rush hour traffic, your song comes on the radio.

“Is this-”

“-our song? Absolutely! Can I turn up the radio?” Yoohyeon eagerly asks.

“You didn’t even need to ask.”

The song that reminded Yoohyeon of you, and you of Yoohyeon, blasts in your car. The two of you loudly sing along, without a care in the world. You both were a little off-pitch (it was mostly you, to be honest), but neither of you cared. In that moment, you were two lovers connected by a song that reminded you of the love that you shared.

And honestly, is there anything better than that?

Baby, don't leave me

Only you can make me feel so alive

Take all of my love~

[myloveforhergoeson]

ch 31 preview bc i feel bad for not posting in so long yayy

“Mr. Rocque, Kelly, please,” Roxanne pleaded, shaking fingers threaded, palms pressed together. She would’ve gotten down on her knees to beg if she, the band, and their two bosses weren’t already in the back of the limousine headed to Brand New Day’s album release party. “The Big Time Rush booking fee is for interviews and photoshoots, and- and millionaire’s birthday parties. Not for an advertising campaign for a band no one has ever heard of!” 

Though she winced at her desperate tone of voice, she hoped one final appeal would make the two adults change their minds. Despite spending the last 24 hours making similar statements since Gustavo’s call at the movie theater, neither of them had budged in their decision for the band to attend the party. She’d even taken the fight all the way to Griffin’s office, sitting atop the Rocque Records building and adorned in the strangest taxidermy the assistant had ever seen, hoping that even he would think it an odd request. 

Turns out that had been a mistake; Roxy had severely underestimated how much Griffin seemed to like her. America’s fourth most powerful CEO was no better than his money-hungry adversaries and deep down she knew that… She just wanted someone other than her friends to take her feelings into account just this once. 

With Griffin’s word as law, and whatever Gustavo was afraid of in Obdul’s briefcase when the tall man tapped on it, the band was set to attend the gathering and adhere to Brand New Day’s request. 

When Kelly sighed, shifting her gaze from the soft glow of her BlackBerry in the back of the dark limo to the writer, she just slowly shook her head. “You heard Griffin earlier, Roxy. They’re paying customers and Rocque Records has a contract to fulfil. As much as you dislike these boys-”

“These two,” The assistant automatically corrected, feeling James’ hand slide onto her shoulder as the limo turned a corner. “These two,” Kelly continued after a brief pause, “There’s a lot of money at stake here.”

That was the same answer the talent scout had given her all day - the same corporate talk about contract fulfillment, legal obligation, and reputation. Bullshit. 

 “Griffin said we have to,” Gustavo added in a flat tone, red glasses matching the tint of a neon sign zooming by outside the window behind him, suggesting that he wasn’t all too thrilled with the night before them either. “So we have to. Set aside whatever crap has you all up in a twist about this party! It’s only a few hours, okay?” 

With a huff, Roxy crossed her arms and pushed back into her seat, watching the endless stream of cars out the window beside the man’s head. Most of the time she and Gustavo were on the same page, especially when it came to breaking down emotional barriers in the writer’s room. If he was able to help her draw out the words to place on the page when she was struggling in the past, why was he so incapable of seeing her irritation now? 

“We’ll be okay, Rox!” From across the way, Carlos reached out to pat her knee, welcome warm contact on skin that felt as cold as ice. The charm from the bracelet she’d made him for Christmas jingled around his wrist. “The night will be over before you know it!”

Carlos’ optimism never ceased to amaze Roxy; She wished she could feel even a small portion of it at the present, but her confusing amalgamation of fear and anger had been too busy building up in her system all day. Too much time had already been wasted worrying about Mag and Dani since they’d moved to Hollywood. Past memories playing in her head like a bad movie plagued her dreams, causing her to reach out for James in the darkness of her room, only to feel the emptiness creep in when she remembered a few walls separated them in 2-H and 2-J. Horrible flashes of whatever may transpire tonight took hold of her imagination when she was awake, only fueling the fire of emotions rooted in her belly. 

And even that felt ridiculous to her because Mag and Dani were just people she used to be friends with, not the supervillains of epic proportions her mind was making them out to be. The hurt and confusion then mingled with shame for expecting the worst from them, dragging up situations in which they’d looked out for her at local gigs or sat up and listened to her complain on the phone all hours of the night while she tried to work out a new tune or melody. All the fun they’d had playing together, advertising for their band wherever they could, and drawing up big plans to hit the big time together.

Then, the cycle of emotions started anew, because if they were such great people, how could they so easily take her work and pass it off as their own? How could they be Brand New Day without her?

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Roxy tilted her head back into the hard headrest, focusing on the silence in the car since she’d been too fatigued to pick a radio station, and took a deep breath in an attempt to stave off the emotional overload.

Beside Carlos, messing with the material of his lap belt, Kendall nodded at his friend’s words. “Just a few photos for the news outlets and some social media posts saying how much we love the new album, then we’re so far out of here and everyone will forget about Brand New Day in a week.”

Though the both of them knew that last part probably wouldn't be true, Roxy wanted to believe it anyway. Internally, she cursed her past self for all the time and effort she’d put into promoting their band to friends, strangers, and whoever would listen, and all the wishes on shooting stars in clear Minnesota skies that one day they’d blow up and get to move out of their nothing town. 

Too little, too late, the girl thought, feeling the unpleasant sting of her nails cutting into her palm as they balled into tight fists in her lap. At least we all got what we wanted in the end.

James must have noticed her discomfort; The hand on her shoulder trailed down her arm to unwind the mess she might have made of her palm with her fresh manicure. 

“You also… Don’t have to come…” Logan tried to add but quickly winced when Roxy countered his comment with a nasty glare. 

“Are you kidding me? I’m the only one who knows what those two are like! This is all part of their big scheme to-” 

“Roxanne.” Gustavo cut her off with a grating exhale of her name. For a few seconds, the humming of the engine was the only sound heard between the seven. “Being in the entertainment industry means sometimes you have to do things you don’t like to do. Do you think I enjoy playing babysitter for the five of you? No! But if I want to stay Hollywood’s number one producer, that’s what I have to do!”

“Oh, stop it Gustavo, you flatter us too much!” Kendall said with a sarcastic smile in a clear attempt to ease some of the tension radiating off of his boss and assistant, which calmed Roxy only slightly. At least one of them was able to keep a level head at the present. “We all know you love us too much but simply can’t admit it - out loud or otherwise.”

Grumbling something under his breath, Gustavo turned to look at Kelly’s BlackBerry, signifying Kendall had won that part of the conversation for now. 

The frontman looked over to her too, for approval or something else she wasn’t sure, but she did catch the upward quirk of his lips. Momentarily, some of the tension left her body and she finally let her head rest on her boyfriend’s shoulder. If there was one thing she could count on tonight, it was her four friends. 

Like it or not, this was happening, so she might as well suck it up and be the bigger person. In public at least; The big tub of chocolate chip ice cream in her freezer and the floor of her kitchen were already calling her name no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. 

Even if it wasn’t his intention, Roxy found comfort in Kendall’s subtle smirk. As good as friends Mag and Dani had been to her in the past, their bond didn’t even come close to the one she shared with the Big Time Rush boys and her new friends at the Palm Woods. So, she took it as a sign. One that screamed “We’ve got your back, Roxy! Always!” in bright, flashy colors, big enough to rival the magnitude of the Hollywood sign looking out over the city they so loved. 

Maybe James had noticed it too, his hand tightening in hers before pressing a light kiss into her hair. The two savored the last bit of physical contact they’d have before the prying eyes of everyone at the party, because neither of them needed to add a potential relationship exposé to the list of things that might happen that evening. “Everything will be alright, baby. I promise.”

[astraeakira]

tnx | the dark brings you back [woo kyungjun x reader]

✨ summary: it was kyungjun’s last day on australia as he was about to return to korea for his dream. although you had only spent some time with him as a couple, what you felt was all you need to muster up the courage of spending the night together and showing him your genuine feelings (a little angsty but more on fluff).

✨ inspiration: p nation news (4:49) / hello, this is kyung jun (0:19)

✨ writer’s note: hello! this is my first kpop fanfic so i’d really appreciate any thoughts you have about it. i also kept it gender-neutral for everyone to read. i believe this is just the third fanfic about tnx here on tumblr (please correct me if i’m mistaken) so i am quite saddened, i hope that as they grow, so will the community. anyways, i would love to accept any suggestions you have, hehe. i hope you enjoy reading!

you had been together for quite a while but it was the first time you’d be spending the night with him. kyungjun laid on the bed with his back to it, fiddling with the plushie in between his arms, eyes still haven’t looked at you ever since earlier. pushing all the thoughts you have aside, you flicked the light switch off.

“ah!” a mild shout of surprise came out of kyungjun’s throat. it was quite unusual from your calm shy boy, which elicited a question from you. “jun? you alright?”

immediately walking towards his side, you turned on the lamp from the bedside table to get a good look at him. the foam dipped as your knees met the mattress, eyes scanning his figure, searching for the cause of his surprise. however, you didn’t find any.

it has caught you off-guard but finally, for the first time that evening, you looked at each other’s eyes. there you noticed the uneasiness covering his features. after a few seconds, his gaze moved away from you. he looked at the lamp, to the side, to the plushie on his thigh. evading you again.

“what’s the matter?” you asked him another time.

“i- i was just startled. i’m… i’m afraid of the dark, that’s why. i’m sorry.”

your eyes widened at his answer. “oh! i should be apologizing, ‘jun!” you hurried to get out of the bed, about to turn the light on but he held your wrist, making you stay in place.

“the lamp is alright, y/n! just-“ you saw him close his eyes, breathing in deeply- “just stay with me, please?”

and so you stayed. you laid by his side, staring at the ceiling, arms wrapped around a plushie, mimicking him. your mind was all over the thought you didn’t know he was afraid of the dark. worse, he even chose to endure it. is he really alright? you asked yourself as you hear the deep breaths he took. you tried thinking of a solution to both your guilt and worries. you faced his direction.

“kyungjun?” your inquiry was answered by a sweet hum. knowing he was listening, you continued. “would you like to hold hands with me?”

a few seconds of silence ensued until it was broken by the ruffling sheets. he turned towards you, a little smile etched on his lips. his smile easily created your own. you offered your hands to him, which he accepted ever so timidly, slowly slipping his fingers in between yours.

“i’m glad you asked,” kyungjun replied in a whisper. he brought your hands to his face, nuzzling your interlaced fingers. “but i think this would just make me miss you even more.”

your other hand found its way to his cheek, gently caressing the skin back and forth with your thumb. his eyes were already closed but a tear still managed to escape. you wiped it away and leaned towards him, dropping a kiss on the apple of his cheek. when you found yourself unsatisfied, you dropped a few more kisses, one to his cheek, to the tip of his nose, and… you stopped.

kyungjun opened his eyes, putting your plan to an abrupt stop. the windows to his soul reflected his emotions. there was fear, there was hesitance, there was worry and that feeling which reflect yours too. why would i hesitate? you asked yourself yet again. you leaned to his face once more, closed the distance between your lips, and shared a passionate kiss.

after listening to your heart, you spoke the words it has been keeping inside. “at least i would be on your mind now and then. i’d be very happy with that. and… you’ll also get to recall how i tell you i’m always here for you and that i love you, woo kyungjun.”

it was the most memorable darkness to kyungjun, not because it was frightening—but because you were there—by his side. now, just as you wished, he gets reminded of that night almost every day. when he has nothing else to hold onto, he remembers you.