p o s e d i o n.

[pjyxng]

Shuotime ! ( Five Episodes )  / / Oh My, Mr. President ! ( Five Episodes )

“And the 2047 President is...” 

The once quiet living room is filled with loud cheering and people hugging each other. It’s Alexander and Martina’s son who jump up first, the pair screaming louder than anyone else. They bounced around the room with such energy, it makes you think they’re five again instead of future college students. There’s Scott and Trinity who are no better than the two, joining in their cheering as if it was their names that was said. 

There’s Ruby who looks up at him, a smile on her face as she claps her hands. Congrats, she mouths to him before she looks over at the four. Then there’s Simon and Martina who he’s sandwiched in between. The two of them try to call out his name, shaking his arm to get a reaction out of him but he doesn’t say anything. No, he can’t say anything. It feels like a fever dream. There on the screen is a picture of him and his Vice President. Is this real? He’s not dreaming right?” 

“Peej.” A finger swipes across his cheek, breaking him from his spell. He hadn’t realized that the cheering had came to a stop, all eyes on him. “You’re crying.” 

“Am I?” He raises his own hands to see. She’s right, he is crying. Whoa. “I didn’t even realize it. I’m just... so happy right now.” 

“Aw, pops!” Alexander throws himself onto Shuo, causing the older man to groan. “We’re all happy for you. You worked hard for this.” 

And Alexander means it. Shuo has worked his entire life to get here. From his high school days to his college days, he’s been working up to this very moment. His years of hard work has finally paid off and it’s displayed here on the screen. 

It’s fate, he thinks to himself, head resting ontop of Alexander’s. This is truly fate. 

SHUO’S FINAL HERE ! ! ! !

A summary!

Basically P.J. goes to Oxford and doesn’t tell anyone rip! He slowly stops texting everyone ( sorry mars bars )

He switches from P.J. to Shuo when he first gets there. So like literally no one from Oxford calls him by his nickname and he kinda likes it 

Trinity visits him, yells at him, still hangs out with him 

Realizes that he’s aromantic and he tells Simon and Trinity. They’re supportive 

He adopts a little boy named Alexander. He’s his pride and joy

10 years later, he meets Martina! It’s awkward at first but they become best buds again. Even their kids become best friends ( um hello gallagher next gen ) 

That’s it. Thanks for reading!

[rubymeriwether]

ongoing call for ROOM 303...

r: “Sunny wants to do a movie night in the dorm, are you in?”

m: “I’m already here in my pj’s, so that sounds perfect. Better bring snacks!”

s: “I’m on my way to the food court, you got it!”

ruby meriwether’s phone log from week one of third year at gallagher academy

@sunnyxxmartin @swiiftbladcs @graysonberkshire @cadenlucca @levimadden @pjyxng

[defineparis]

[t70sdaily]

[pjyxng]

saintswrite​:

Their eyes met and Martina wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Did he see her heart beating through every unanswered message? Did he read them at all? Did he think about her at all? It was silly, but Martina felt strangely exposed, as if the polish of sophistication and the aires of a businesswoman she learned to emanate over the years was just her playing dress-up in her mother’s clothes. She felt like the girl who thought thought that she could admire the sun forever. However, after PJ left her behind, the sun could only be seen in the rearview mirror of her life, gradually shrinking from her view. Still, thoughts of him were always on the horizon, just less frequently so. Avoiding those thoughts became harder when he started his political career, and even harder when she was presented with the file. That marked the first time she Googled the meaning of aromantic. “I know,” she concurred with a smile. Martina never outgrew being over-dressed. Or being vain for that matter. “Thank you for noticing.” The atmosphere thick with words left unsaid, which Martina stringently reminded herself was for the better, she was starting to feel a little warm. “Which one of you picked it out? My money’s on that one.” Martina’s nose tweaked as she lifted her hand to bounce a finger in Alexander’s direction, as if she were air-bopping his nose. The little cupcake was too precious, and already Martina plotted all the ways in which she’d spoil him. PJ wouldn’t be his favorite adult for too long. “He’s adorable, Peej.”

When Alexander drew forward, Martina dipped her head until she was eye-level with him, holding an expression of utmost seriousness. Who better to keep a secret than a Gallagher girl? “Hey, have you ever tried it?” Martina challenged, her face reanimating as lighthearted laughter broke through her faux-seriousness. “You might like it more than super yucky pineapple pizza.” She followed his lead, tilting her head to look at PJ. “Are you prepared to defend that stance in front of, oh, a few million Americans, Sir President?”

“She knows,” he said out loud, chuckling lightly. “Someone’s vain. Thought you grew out of that.” He was happy that she didn’t because it was another aspect of her that he still knew of. And he’ll cling to it like his life depended on it, only until he learned more about the woman that sat across from him. So familiar and yet also a stranger at the same time. He was at fault for this, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Hey now, it was me who found this place.” A liar, his secretary recommended the place but he won’t let Martina know that. “This kid can barely read.” 

Alexander, who usually threw an insult back at his father, just kept his twinkling eyes on Martina. Just a few minutes ago, he was wary of her and made himself to be smaller than usual. But that didn’t last as she complimented him twice in a row, the five year old eating that up. “Thank you,” he said, feet swinging lightly under the table. Martina couldn’t see it but Shuo could feel each kick that hit his leg on accident. Alexander then turned to look at his father. “I like your friend!” 

“You like anyone who compliments you.” Which was true enough, Alexander loved compliments, especially when someone called him adorable or handsome. Shuo wondered where he got it from. It was his turn to cut his son off, scoffing at Martina’s words. “Pineapple pizza is not super yucky, what are you, five?” He doesn’t acknowledge his son’s little ‘ i’m five ‘ comment but his lips do twist upwards. “Of course! I stand by what I say and I’ll never change my mind on it.” 

[pjyxng]

saintswrite·:

PJ returning her old college nickname was a comfort tailor-made for her, one that she was pleased still fit after all these years. Contrary to her initial worries about instant waterworks, Martina wasn’t nervous. It didn’t have to be torturous, seeing him again. Martina could ignore the temptation to interrogate him about the last ten years, especially with his innocent son seated across the table. She mirrored Alexander’s little wave, four fingers bouncing off the heel of her palm. Looking at the rosy-cheeked and wide-eyed Alexander liquified any knots tightening in her chest. A telltale symptom of baby fever. “Oh, please, only call me Martina if you want me to answer,” she corrected. “Take all the time you need, sweetheart. I’m not in a rush.” After all, the three of them would be seeing a lot of each other. Martina’s gaze floated to PJ for a moment, capturing the first smile she saw in person. And, wow, it’s amazing what doesn’t change about a person, and how unfair it was still so familiar. She could have painted the curve of his grin, exacting how one corner ascended slightly higher on his cheek than the other. “It’s been too long, Peej,” Martina noted aloud. “You look good.” Her forearms sliding to join her elbows to rest on the table, tapping her manicured nails, she leaned her weight forward a little as she glanced at their surroundings. Martina would have given the owner of the parlor a hug because the old-timey atmosphere gave her somewhere to misplace her nostalgia. “Is the food as good as the decor? I have to admit the interior decorating’s setting the bar a little high.” Martina slipped her hand forward to pull a menu close to her, prying it open to scan her options. “Fair warning ahead of time: I still like broccoli on my pizza.”

Alexander just nodded his head but didn’t say anything else. Shuo hoped that his son will become more familiar and friendly with Martina, especially knowing how closely she’ll be to their family for who knows how long. But he had complete faith in both Martina and Alexander that the two of them will get along. As long as I’m still his number one, I’ll be fine, he thought to himself as his eyes fell and remained on the other sitting across from him. There was a lump in his throat, a collection of words that he wanted but couldn’t say. A mix of apologies, compliments, the occasional i missed you, and the many questions he had for her. But that was probably best for another day when it was just them and when they were more comfortable with each other. Like the old days. For now, he’ll offer her a small smile and a curt nod. “Thank you,” Shuo said. “You look good too.” Still beautiful as ever but it felt inappropriate to say that right now. “We like it, we came across it a few months ago. It instantly became our favorite place.” It was their weekly tradition that Shuo was going to keep up for as long as he can. He didn’t even have a chance to comment on her pizza topping before Alexander spoke up. 

“That’s gross,” he said to her before leaning forward himself, as if he was telling her a secret. But he didn’t try to keep his voice quiet as he said, “But it’s okay. He likes pineapples on his pizza!” Eyes flickered to Shuo who’s own eyes said ‘ it’s good and i’ll die on that hill.’ 

[pjyxng]

saintswrite·:

au: 10 years later for: @pjyxng·

Martina found the booth hiding the presidential candidate and his five-year-old son with ease. A decade of training tamed her wandering focus to immediately aim at its target, accentuated by her lifetime of practice in longing to follow Shuo Yang. When the assignment was first presented to her in a manila file, she reread the name and re-examined the photo attached by a paper clip until her vision had misted from how perfectly they aligned with her memories. She did not know what she remembered first: how his smile blinded her to all logic and sense or how many years of silence wedged between the last time they saw each other. Ten years. The number wasn’t as imposing as its meaning. Ten years and Martina could see how the years matured him, not that she could blame him for changing; ten years and Martina changed too. The girl with her head in her own world grew acquainted with the gravity binding her to earth, and Martina reconciled with its insistence that she remain there. But she still drifted to the stars from time-to-time because the air was better in her own galaxy, and she needed a breather. Take the present moment, for instance. Martina found the booth with PJ and his son and her smile illuminated her face as if their history was obsolete. For a blink, she forgot that he careened into a future where Martina did not exist to him anymore, and that she blamed him for it. That he ignored her texts and calls and letters with the same intentionality that Martina had when she fell in love with him: she knew exactly what she was doing, and that she shouldn’t have been doing it, but she did it anyway. But that was something that couldn’t be forgotten, aching from time to time like a faded bruise, that Martina moved on from. Her spreading smile was muscle memory, an old habit she has yet to free herself from, like her tendency to underestimate just how good she was at her job.

Another blink, and she centered herself with an inhale through her nose, lips coaxed to a simper more personable instead of personal. Whether or not they were old friends ( question mark? ) would not be enough of a hindrance to stop Martina from protecting PJ if he was someone who had a target on his back. Her feelings were trivial when compared to a grim world without future president Shuo Yang. Martina straightened her posture and crossed the checkered floor of the emptied pizza parlor, blissfully quiet in contrast to the chaos of media outlets and photographers flaunting the flash on their cameras, to his booth, sliding into the seat across from him and Alexander. “Waiting for someone?” she asked lightly as she shrugged out of her Burberry jacket, her hands making quick work to fold it and set it beside her. Her purse followed, sliding the bag’s straps off her shoulder perch on the opposite side. No better date than Louis Vuitton to business dinners. “Hi PJ,” Martina said automatically. Perhaps Martina was at that age where she was too stuck in her ways. It was only a week and she hadn’t caught the hang of calling him by his birth name. Her attention redirected to the little face of his son, who had pudgy cheeks that Martina wanted to pinch. “And who’s this handsome little man? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting the future First Son. Isn’t your dad going to introduce us?” Of course, Martina knew more than she would have preferred about Alexander Yang, only slightly less or equal to what PJ knew about his own son, but a barb settled that she knew so little from first-hand interactions with the boy. Her elbows drew on the table, chin resting on her hands, as her gaze slid to PJ expectantly. “I’m waiting.”

“Baba, who are we meeting?”

“A friend of mine.”

“Uncle Simon?”

“No.”

“Oh.” A pause and furrowed eyebrows before excitement laced his voice. “Is it Ruby?”

“No, not this time.” He exhaled, hoping to settle his nerves with a careful smile and a hand that ran through Alexander’s hair. “You don’t know her, she’s--” His words came to a stop as she entered the scene, his old nickname rolling so carelessly off her tongue. Even after ten years he still ate that up, it made him feel like nothing has changed between them. But so much has changed and he was the one at fault. Ten years, for ten years he ignored her calls, texts, and letters ( garnet i will murk you for adding this! ), all because Shuo Yang was a coward. A coward who chose his feelings over his friends, over Martina Washington’s. Regret followed him like a shadow, poking and probing at him, calling Shuo a coward, a wuss, all of it just because he couldn’t be honest with her. A simple rejection, telling her that he wasn’t coming back, literally anything. But he gave her nothing. A selfish bastard he was.

“Mars--” His own nickname for her fell from his tongue with such ease that it felt unfair. He had no right to call her that but here he was, saying it. He shook his head as if to break himself from a curse, eyes shifting to look at Alexander. “This is Alexander. Alexander, this is my friend Martina.” A pause as he continued. “However, you might have to call her Ms. Washington just to be respectful.” The excitement that filled his eyes moments before had morphed into looks of curiosity and uncertainty. The usual shyness that came with any five year old was showing face, Alexander only giving Martina a small wave and very quiet “hello”. Shuo couldn’t help but to smile, looking back at Martina. “Give him a few minutes and he’ll start talking to you.”

[stellarflex]

[pjyxng]

saintswrite·:

Overnight face-mask? Check. Under-eye serum? Check. Lips scrubbed? Check, check! Martina gave a brilliant smile to the mirror. Getting lost in her own eyes had the same effect of being gazed by the millions of followers on her YouTube channel. But she didn’t have millions of followers on her YouTube channel— yet. “…If you totally love going to bed with me— oh my gosh, that sounds so dirty,” Martina giggled to herself. Note that she stood in an empty bathroom, with porcelain sinks and marble floors because the Washingtons got it like that. “Anyway, if you love watching moi go through my bedtime routine, hit the like, subscribe, and the presh bell so you never miss my future videos. Tina’s going to hit the hay, so I’ll see you guys tomorrow night. Love you, mwah!” Martina winked and blew a kiss at her reflection before sashaying into her bedroom. She checked Alice’s cage ( the little white rabbit had an upset tummy lately ) before fluffing her pillows and reaching for the powder blue stuffed animal atop her comforter. Named Lala, short for Lazuli. Martina forgot what animal they were supposed to be, but they were cute, which was all that mattered. Cuddling Lala to her chest, she heard the first plink, and thought nothing of it.  The second plink, Martina thought it might just be a bird or something. But that voice def did not belong to a bird, and Martina burrowed under her blankets, too nosy to scream at potential danger. Why were they looking for Trinity? Were they lost? Martina set Lala aside to tiptoe to the window, moonlight shining silver in her face, the copper color of a new penny. 

Holy smokes. Shuo Yang throwing rocks at her window? Shuo Yang was throwing rocks at her window!

Martina unlocked her window and shoved it open. “I don’t hate you,” Martina said first, because that was most important. Her tone was hushed, the threat of Big Momma hearing also looming over her head. “What are you doing?”

The head that poked out was a familiar one but not the person he was expecting to see. “Mars, he said her nickname, blinking a few times in confusion. “What are you doing in Trinity’s room?” Were they having another cousin late night talk? Was he interrupting? The urge to step back and head home was there but not strong enough to take control of his feet. He stood there, rooted in place like one of the trees growing in the Washington’s yard. Even if he could leave, he didn’t want to. His emotions were all over the place and memories from hours ago still well on his mind. P.J. couldn’t be alone, not unless he wanted to cry again. “I came to see Trinity,” he answered her. “I wanted to tell her that--” He took a deep breath, the tears brimming at the corner of his eyes as he continued talking. “-- Ruby broke up with me and I’m not okay.” 

[pjyxng]

LOCATION && WITH WHOM : : WASHINGTON HOUSE W / @saintswrite​

One clink. Pause. A second clink. Pause. No sound the third time as the rock didn’t hit anything. His aim was starting to become terrible as the seconds went by, not like he cared. Well actually, he did care and a lot too! The whole point of him throwing the rocks was to get her attention. “Trinity,” he whispered-yelled her name, rocks shaking a tad in his anxiety ridden hands. “Trin, I know you hear me.” His free hand reached for his phone in his back pocket, ready to text her and tell her to wake up. He needed her for this very serious and very important moment. He tried to turn his phone on, hoping to be met with the bright light of his lockscreen of him and Ruby ( he should probably change it ), only for it not to come on. “Are you serious--” It was dead, of course it was dead. “Does the world hate me or something?” P.J. said, sniffling as he shoved his phone into his pocket once again. He really has to do this the old fashion way, huh. “Trinity, open your fucking window!” With his final rock in hand, he threw it at the window with a bit more force. It did the trick as it made a louder sound before, P.J. flinching just a bit. Hopefully it doesn’t wake up Bernice Washington, he doesn’t need the older woman on his back right now. 

[martinaw]

“Because everything about you, Mars… it’s perfect. You’re perfect.” … “And anyone can tell you that– I’m sure a lot of people have.” He laughed nervously, it was short and abrupt. ”I just don’t know how I feel about anything right now. I’m sorry.” / @pjyxng

[pjyxng]

martinaw·:

“Ooh, that’s romantic,” she said playfully, and unfortunately Martina really thought that was kind of romantic, leaving earth at the same time as someone she loved. Then she remembered that their departure might be at the hands of Trinity and that immediately wiped the romance out of it. She couldn’t promise that this moment wouldn’t leak out eventually, but it wasn’t ladylike to kiss and tell the groupchat, although that was exactly what she would have done if it she didn’t kiss the one person she shouldn’t have. Seeing any photo booth in the future will drench Martina’s face in sunburnt scarlet and it will be super obvious that something happened in one even if she never said what. “Friends,” she repeated. Her nod was imperceptible, felt rather than seen. She wondered if he kissed all his friends but thankfully wasn’t drunk enough to ask. “I’ll be good.” She did kiss him first. And if he hadn’t kissed her first she would’ve kissed him again — their foreheads pressed together must’ve attuned them to each other’s thoughts, like antennas on old televisions. Martina didn’t question why a note of finality rang in her ears, because he promised that it wasn’t an ending and PJ said that he wanted to remember tonight as happy. And after being selfish all night, that was something she could give him despite feeling more sad than happy. No strings attached. She smiled softly as she caught his lips for the final time, the gentle reassurance inciting a fluttery feeling in her stomach. Martina couldn’t have dreamt of a better feeling, one that stirred her so deeply, so she believed every word he said. Blurring the lines in their friendship wasn’t just one-sided on her part and whatever they had was real for a moment. And that moment ended after their lips disconnected, concluded by Martina’s light sigh sinking her chest. Part of her was just happy that he remained a friend instead of a stranger, and she’d still be able to vault into his embrace the next time they saw each other. That was all she had to hold onto and her knuckles would have bleached white from grasping it so tight, tight enough to meet his gaze and smile when she really wanted to cry. “Guess what I am dreaming about? Just kidding, I’ll just tell you. I’ve been dreaming of Beyoncé seeing how good we look and pulling us up on stage for, like, a week now. I think the universe is trying to tell me something.” Using the hand already resting on his face, Martina pinched his cheek gently. “We should print these pics and get outta here. It’s a sin to leave the queen waiting.” Their surroundings, the glowing screen, the camera’s eye, the walls of the photo booth reappeared as if by magic, filtering in as a reminder that there was an entire planet waiting outside of the photo booth, one that paled in comparison to the world that PJ and Martina created when they were together. She would have wanted to stay in it forever, even if it was just a dream, but that was never a choice she was given.

“It’s only romantic if Trinity isn’t the one to kill us.” Trinity wouldn’t kill Martina but she would come for P.J. in a heartbeat, he could feel it in his chest. Add on his departure then he was an absolute goner. He doesn’t believe that she’ll be good but he doesn’t question it. He told himself no more questioning things, that he needed to be happy and enjoy his last night at Gallagher. Though, that doesn’t stop the weight that he felt in his chest, the pressure becoming more as the seconds ticked by. It was his punishment for being a liar and making a promise that he’ll never be able to keep. “Do you think she’ll let us up on the stage if I tell her who my uncle is?” Now he was smiling genuinely because the idea was a good one and it might actually work. Throw Ruby into the mix to really sell it too, no one could deny meeting with the first daughter and second son. Not even Beyoncé had that power to do so. Martina pinching his cheek was poetic in a way. Since he pinched hers minutes ago and now she was doing the same. He bet that Martina would say that this was romantic, P.J. saw it as poetic. “Yeah, let’s print these.” Finally, he let her go, arms unwrapping from around her, officially ending this moment together. Reaching over, he pressed the button for two pictures and then print. While doing it, he caught sight of the pictures. Of the two of them smiling, of them looking at each other, and finally of Martina kissing him. If either were to forget this ( he wouldn’t ), they would still have the photos that captured this moment. Evidence of happiness which was perfectly captured, his wish being granted by Martina. Because while he still didn’t understand how he felt for her, he was happy. And that was the most important thing. Once the two were out of the photo booth and with their pictures in hand, P.J. held his hand out for her to take, smiling deeply down at her. “Let’s go, it’s time for us to meet and dance with the Queen.” 

[pjyxng]

martinaw·:

Intoxicated by the warmth radiating from his touch, nothing could stop Martina from savoring this moment. She wanted to remember every detail, the brush of their noses, the smell of his cologne, the taste of his mouth on hers. A giggle bounced from from her lips as she followed his lead, shifting her weight so that she’s pressed against him, her skin drinking in the heatwaves of a solar-flare. This kiss wasn’t soft and questioning like the first, but curious and exploratory of what it’s like to be wanted by the other. To feel wanted, at least, until they stepped out of photo booth. Martina attempted to stifle the unnecessary noise that reminded her that this was just temporary, that they wouldn’t saunter out of the photo booth a little disheveled as Gallagher’s next power couple. And whatever molten heat spreading through her body hardened to metal, tempering her mood, because…well, why? How could he kiss her like this if he didn’t feel the same? She craved his affection more because she could count on one hand the people who withheld any affection from her; it was all the more precious when it wasn’t easily won. As the hand on his face skimmed downward, palm curling around his neck, Martina didn’t feel the triumph of winning him over, but the hopelessness that she never will. Half-lidded and sun-drunk, she absently trailed after him once he broke the kiss, lips still pursed, but she stalled at the sound of her name. The reverie  where they’re the only two people in existence shattered, the safety of being tucked away from prying eyes and unwanted opinions disappearing with it. The metallic weight of guilt finally sank into the pit of her stomach, pressing her hand down from his neck, down the length of his arm, still wrapped around her, and finally down to her lap. “I’m so dead,” she murmured into the annoying gap between them, that must have spanned centimeters but felt wider now that she knew how close she and PJ could have been. Martina would have gone further, and that hunger startled her, that her first time could have been with her cousin’s best friend in a photo booth. On the cusp of leaving her teenage years, of course she fantasized about it in the most romantic light, beds with rose petals and candles and a desire that felt like daylight. A photo booth at a gala and desire like fire didn’t exactly fit the image in her head, but reality seldom did. “Yeah, we should —” Martina didn’t meet PJ’s eyes. She wasn’t sorry about kissing him. Yet the absence of being sorry led to more guilt, because that’s definitely worse. “But, um, we’re still friends, right?” Martina’s hand reappeared to cradle his cheek, her thumb stroking his smooth cheekbone. Her eyes finally searched his. “You won’t disappear on me again? We can totally just be friends, you don’t have to — I just….” I wanted to do that for a long time? I love you? “Did that just happen? I wasn’t dreaming, right?”

“I think we both are.” Honestly, it was more him than her, though that all depended on if either told others about this. P.J. wasn’t going to tell Trinity, Scott, or Ruby about this intimate moment. But he was for sure telling Simon about it. Even as her hands dropped to her lap, his never left from around her. If both pulled away completely then this moment will come to an end. And maybe P.J. wasn’t ready for it to end, because he was happy. Happy that in this very moment, happy ( and grateful ) that she liked him, just happy in general that he met Martina. His stomach dropped as he leaned into her touch for stability and comfort. P.J. could answer the first one but the second-- “We’re still friends,” he answered her, inhaling and exhaling deeply to control himself. “I won’t disappear on you, I promise.” His first promise to her that he was breaking, all because he was too much of a coward to tell her about him leaving. How pathetic. His lips twisted up into a sad smile before he kissed her, this one softer and shorter than the last one. It was their last and final kiss of the night, more like their last kiss ever. “You weren’t dreaming, Mars.” 

[pjyxng]

martinaw·:

What was he thinking? Why did she do that? Did he want to kiss her? Why did she do that? Separation hung between them long enough for her to feel the gravity of the kiss — the weight of a changed friendship, the weight of a broken promise, but she didn’t delude herself to expect him to change his mind. How many ways could she make PJ reject her? Again and again, she was running heart-first into a brick wall, desperate for it to budge but it wouldn’t. And as she drew back, drawing a mental sketch of his face, she waited for him to find a new way to tell her that she isn’t what he wants; Martina was ready to hear it now, because she wouldn’t spend the rest of her life wondering how it felt to kiss PJ. But never in a million years did she think she’d know how it felt to be kissed by PJ. Her breath hitched in surprise, heart racing rapid, for only a moment before she melted into him, a hand slipping onto his cheek. The sun pulled her in, and she invited the burn. She always gets what she wants, and since D.C., this was what she wanted. It didn’t matter if it ended badly. He was destined to never change his mind, she was destined to always forgive him for it. Martina wasn’t going to stop pretending this wasn’t the case before he did, so she’ll kiss him until he pulled back. If he ever did. Whatever he wants.

He shouldn’t be doing this, kissing and pulling her close to him like his life depended on it. He should’ve pulled away or left the photo booth, he should’ve done anything that wasn’t this. And yet, despite the voices in his head telling him to stop and how wrong this was, he continued. Doing what felt right to him at this moment, P.J. destroyed any last distance between them as he practically pulled her on top of him. Neither of them cared or thought of stopping, Martina for her own obvious reasons and P.J. for his that weren’t as obvious. Such as feelings and how he felt for her. He thought of Scott and Ruby who both were aware of Martina’s feelings for him, how both asked him, well how do you feel about her? Even when Martina asked him, he gave the same half assed answer. I don’t know. Which was true, he didn’t know. Never has he had to deal with his emotions from a romantic aspect, either because he never met someone who made him feel like that or all of his partners were strictly sexual. Until Martina Washington walked into his life with sickly sweet smiles and words to match. Her presence alone made him question everything, made him want to seek out answers on how he felt for her. As he deepened their kiss, he could swear on his life that he felt something. Though, he wasn’t sure if he was confusing lust with the potential idea of love. The two felt the same or maybe P.J. was just like your typical man, mind always on one thing and one thing only. And he’ll be honest, his mind did go there. The longer he lost himself to the taste and feel of her, the more he considered leading her out of the photo booth and ballroom, and to somewhere more private. The fact that this was his best friend’s cousin was thrown out the window. He didn’t care about any of that as it was just the two of them in their own little world. There was only thing that stopped him and it was the fact that he was leaving tomorrow. That after tonight, he’ll be long gone from Gallagher and its students. That he was going to cut all ties with his friends, that he was going to cut all ties with her. And while P.J. had little shit and bitch tendencies, he wasn’t an asshole who would have sex with a girl then ghost her. Much less someone who had feelings for him. “Martina,” he said her name as he pried himself from her, forehead leaning on hers. “We should stop. Others probably want to use the photo booth.” 

[lanwangjiwashere]

Ashes of Love (Heavy Sweetness, Ashe like Frost) Behind the scenes with Deng Lun and Yang Zi 

[pjyxng]

rubymeriwether·:

Ruby had figured as much, but a small sigh escaped her anyway. “And you’re not going to tell her,” she said quietly, eyes cast a little bit downwards, not a question, but an observation. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do in this situation, even if she had been the one to bring it up. But Ruby knew that she wanted to be there for him, so she placed a gentle hand on his good arm, giving it a light squeeze. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” He considered, not once, not twice but multiple times. To tell her that he was leaving and never coming back, that he’ll never look back at Gallagher, at his school in Arizona, at the world of espionage. Never to look back at the friends that he made. But he couldn’t because Shuo Yang was a coward. He would rather run away than to tell his friends the truth. He couldn’t look Martina in the eyes and face her tears, he couldn’t look Scott in the eyes and see those puppy dog eyes, and don’t get him started on Trinity. He just... couldn’t do it. P.J. stared down at her hand for a few seconds before looking up at her. He doesn’t push her away or pull his arm back, he instead accepted the comfort that her touch gave him. It was nice, he needed it. “It’s just--” He sighed deeply. “-- it’s stupid really. Martina told me that she has feelings for me and I-- I couldn’t answer her.” Didn’t reject, didn’t return her feelings, just let her with a simple “I don’t know”. 

[pjyxng]

scottrileys·:

“ wait, i’m confused. you’re saying that like it’s a bad thing. what did you say? ”

“I told her that I didn’t know how I felt. About her or anything.”