#✧ . re: 𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘀.

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ closed to @praedictas ( 𝙹𝙾𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙴𝙽𝚉𝙸𝙴 )

✧. "𝙸 𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙺𝚈 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙴, 𝙽𝙾 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝙿 𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙺," she says sheepishly, already regretting questioning her decision to approach him during the festivities. "it's just been a minute. and i wanted to say HI!" a slight pause. she sucks her lips between her lips for a brief moment before her brow knits and she tries to smile convincingly. these days are some of the LAST of the start-of-year lull in the theatre season and jemima would be lying if she said she didn't miss her director as much as her castmates. he was cantankerous and finicky and she'd had more than one outburst directed at him over the years, but she admired him all the same. a delicate and terrible secret which jemima hid well was that her love could go no further than her own ego. this was the soft, rotten bit at the center of her sweetness. ( there must be something wrong with me, she would reflect, that i can even think of hurting someone i dote upon; or is it that there is something wrong in doting upon someone i hate? ) the things she loves are simply MIRRORS in which she sees her own reflection. and like knows like, so she feels a similar brokenness in jonathan. "so, y'know. hi. i guess. how-how are you? how are things?"

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ @notxhansel ( 𝚆𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙻𝙸𝚂 )

✧. 𝙰𝚂  𝚂𝙷𝙴'𝚂  𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙾𝚄𝚃  𝙾𝙵  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝚂𝙷𝙾𝙿,  someone  stops  her,  and  she's  more  than  a  little  taken  aback.   it's  —   a  man?   holding  a  cat.  just  holding  it  in  midair.  she  frowns  and  instinctively  steps  away.  "my  cat?  why  would  that  be  my  cat?"  she  pauses,  eyes  scanning  the  unlikely  pair  as  she  processes  a  bit  further.  unfreezing,  she  cautiously  reaches  out  towards  the  cat,  letting  it  sniff  her  hand.  "is  it  yours?"  she  asks,  half-joking.

It happened again. Picking up the small cat, Winter held it close, examining it for any sign of injury. When he was satisfied that the cat was physically alright, just scared, he breathed a sigh of relief, but there was still the mystery of whom this cat belonged to. He'd just been out for a walk, trying to clear his head after a long day, when he'd noticed the cat huddled against the wall of one of the shops on the main street in Enchanted Falls. Well there was no way Winter could just leave it, so now he found himself standing in the shop holding this cat, looking around. "Excuse me," he said to no one in particular, "is this your cat? I found it outside."

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ closed to @lvndersbloom ( 𝙳𝚈𝙻𝙰𝙽 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙷𝙰𝙼 )

✧  .  𝙷𝙴𝚁  𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙾𝚁𝚈  𝙾𝙵  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃  𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴  𝙸𝚂  𝙰  𝙱𝙻𝚄𝚁  during  all  the  good  parts  and  painfully  clear  during  all  the  bad.  she'd  woken  up  with  perhaps  the  worst  hangover  she'd  ever  had  —   which  was,   embarrassingly,  really  saying  something  —  and  felt  as  though  she  had  no  choice  but  to  usher  a  half-asleep  and  very  confused  wyatt  out  of  her  apartment  as  quickly  as  possible.  this  was  perhaps,  an  act  of  self-hatred  or  -punishment,   as  the  best  thing  for  her  in  that  moment  would  very  likely  be  seeking  comfort  and  solace  with  someone  she  truly  believed  cared  about  her,   someone  who  would  listen.   but  she  needs  answers,  for  better  or  for  worse.   she  splashs  some  cold  water  on  her  face  —  hair  is  a  mess  but  she  doesn't  have  the  energy  to  push  a  brush  through  it,  and  eyes  are  allergic  reaction  level  puffy  —  and  throws  a  sweatshirt  on.   she  wishes  she  could  do  more,   and  the  glaringly  apparent  lack  of  order  makes  her  stomach  turn.   already,   the  tears  start  again.   vision  blurring,   she  storms  out  of  her  apartment  and  heads  upstairs,   spare  key  to  dylan's  apartment  in  one  trembling  hand.  she  sniffles  loudly  and  wipes  at  a  runny  nose  with  one  sleeve,  brow  knitting  as  she  tries  and  fails  and  tries  again  to  fit  the  key  into  the  lock.   mumbling  obscenities  under  her  breath,   with  how  her  eyes  burn  it's  a  wonder  she  unlocks  the  door  at  all.   dylan  is  still  passed  out  on  the  floor  of  the  living  room,   and  it's  about  ten  seconds  earlier  than  jemima  is  prepared  to  encounter  her  friend.  she  freezes,  having  been  denied  that  crucial  time  to  gather  her  thoughts.  she  closes  the  door  behind  her,  at  least,   and  slips  the  key  back  inside  her  pocket.  a  moment  of  searching  the  room  and  her  eyes  land  on  an  empty  tissue  box  on  the  floor  within  reach.  she  reaches  for  it,   and  —   —  —  —   the  box  collides  with  dylan's  head.   "wake  up!"  she  yells,  leaning  over  to  scream  towards  dylan  on  the  ground.  "sleep  is  for  good  friends only!"

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ closed to @enchantdly ( 𝚈𝚄𝚂𝚄𝙵 𝚂𝙰𝙸𝙵𝙸 )

✧. 𝚂𝙷𝙴  𝙶𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚂  𝙰𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳  𝙱𝙾𝚃𝙷  𝙳𝙰𝚁𝙺  𝙲𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙴𝚁𝚂,  making  sure  she  doesn't  have  an  audience  she's  unaware  of.  then  one  slender  hand  darts  out  and  pulls  on  the  grimy  back  door,  suppressing  a  wince  at  the  texture  of  it  under  her  hands  as  she  yanks  it  back  from  its  place  on  the  door  stop.  the  crack  is  just  large  enough  to  ventilate  the  steamy  kitchen  and  these  doors  are  heavy,  but  the building is  not  impenetrable  by  any  means.  glancing  nervously  inside,  jemima  hisses  at  a  dark  form  passing  by.  "yusuf!"  she  holds  up  a  white  takeaway  bag  from  the  diner  and  shakes  it  to  get  his  attention.  "i  brought  pie."  the  food  at  the  diner  is  hit  or  miss for her,   but  luckily  the  sweets  are  a  guaranteed  home  run   —  which  means  she  can  trade  for  something  more  resembling of  a  dinner.

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ closed to @dawnslite ( 𝙵𝙰𝚈𝙴 𝙰𝙽 )

✧. 𝚃𝙴𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙶𝙸𝚁𝙻𝚂 𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝙱𝙴 𝚂𝙾 𝙲𝚁𝚄𝙴𝙻. jemima is a girl no more, but time has made her no less vicious. being cruel for the sake of cruelty can be justified if one simply takes the time to look themselves in the mirror and say that the subject deserves it. over time, no one is exempt. they all deserve it. she's moving hangers around on the racks, making a racket and eyeing faye until the woman finally, blessedly, looks up. suddenly disinterested, jemima pulls her phone from her pocket and examines something while she speaks in faye's general direction. "did you hear? jonathan is letting me pick the musical. again." she doesn't bother hiding her triumphant tone. there's no victory in this, but jemima has seen the way jonathan and faye look at each other. it's not fair. she's the best, she's the star. everyone knows she is. jonathan knows she is. but nothing she does has his attention like faye does just for being in the room. and it's not fair. now she doesn't just need jonathan to pay attention to her, she needs everyone to know it. she needs faye to know jonathan is watching her, even if it's just a glance. scraps are a meal when you have nothing.

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ closed to @lvndersbloom ( 𝚆𝚈𝙰𝚃𝚃 𝙲𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙴 )

✧.   𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝚂 𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝚃𝙾 𝙰𝙲𝚃 𝙰𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳 𝙷𝙸𝙼.  she's  had  relationships  before.  if  you  could  call  them  that.  it's  this  constant  game  of  insisting  she's  normal,  she's  adult,  she's  dated  while  denying  any  man's  ability  to  claim  her,  even  if  the  claim  was  brief,  in  the  past.  somehow,  both  are  true.  her  relationships  have  never  lasted  long:  someone  gets  unhappy,  someone  gets  RESTLESS.  it's  a  story  which  has  been  told  before  ad  nauseam.  but  this  thing  with  wyatt  is  —  different.  she's  still  YOUNG,  still  learning  about  herself  and  the  world.  jemima  heard  once  that  the  human  brain  fully  develops  around  the  age  of  twenty  five.  she  refused  to  believe  it  before  —  if  anyone  has  always  known  which  way  was  up,  it  was  jemima  stern   —   but  something  was  undeniably  different  these  past  few  months.  like  a  switch  flipped  suddenly  inside  her.  and  the  most  terrifying  part  was  she  couldn't  seem  to  discard  her  feelings  for  wyatt  with  the  shed  remnants  of  her  heedless  childhood.  "fancy  seeing  you  here,"  she  murmurs,   sliding  up  beside  him  with  a  soft  smile.  he  always  smells  so  good.  the  mere  thought  of  him  is  enough  to  make  her  weak  in  the  knees.  she  thought  once  she  had  CAUGHT  him,  at  long  last,  she'd  grow  bored  as  she  had  so  many  times  before.  but  wyatt  was  like  her  somehow.  maybe that was the only reason she clung to the idea of him so tightly. they  were  meant  for  greater  things  than  this  town.  it was so plain to see. her  fear  of  getting  too  attached  only  had  her  wanting  to  sink  her  claws  deeper  and  deeper  before  he  got  away  forever.  "this  is  my  favorite  part  of  spring.  the  flowers  are  so  beautiful."  she  looks  up  at  him,  eyes  gleaming,  desperate  and  unsure  of  what  to  say  to  get  his  attention.

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ closed to @dawnslite ( 𝙹𝙸𝙽𝚈𝚄 𝙺𝙻𝙰𝚄 )

✧. 𝙸𝚃'𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙸𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝙿𝙸𝙲𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴. it's some godforsaken time in the middle of the night and she's been having a burst of energy for the last several hours. her hair is up in the ugliest rat's nest of a bun, she's on step six of a comprehensive and foul-smelling spot treatment regiment — and locked out of her own apartment while doing the trash. at least the place is spotless now. she can hear the music and merlin whining inside, but she's afraid if she jiggles the knob one more time, it'll fall off. and then where will she be? "it's not fair," she mumbles under her breath, shoving her cold hands under her arms. isn't it supposed to be spring? teeth chattering, she climbs the steps up to the second level. before her fist comes down on the door, she braces herself, eyes closed. knock, knock, knock. and then the door opens. "jin!" she's pleasantly surprised for a moment — then remembers what time it is. "i locked myself out doing garbage," she confesses sheepishly. "can i have my spare, please?"

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ @hzrcxblt ( 𝙴𝚉𝙴𝙺𝙸𝙴𝙻 𝙱𝙾𝙻𝚃 )

✧  .   𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂  𝙸𝚂  𝚆𝙷𝚈  𝙷𝙴'𝚂  𝙵𝙰𝙼𝙾𝚄𝚂  𝙰𝚃  𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃  𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃  𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈  𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴  in  town  that  sells  food.  her  smile  grows  as  his  order  increases,   and  she  has  to  interrupt  several  times  to  ask  him  to  slow  down,   pen  moving  furiously  across  paper.  " —  honey  and  jam."  she  speaks  aloud,  enunciating  each  syllable  carefully  as  she  writes.  "got  it."  she  bites  back  the  urge  to  comment  on  just  how  much  food  she's  putting  in  for  him,  but  is  certainly  quite  impressed.  jemima  glances  down  at  her  apron  and  smiles.  "congrats  on  being  able  to  read  my  nametag."   it's a  somewhat  snarky comment,  but  leans  more  playful  than  anything.  "it'll  probably  take  awhile  for  the  kitchen  to  get  all  of  that  out.   i  can  bring  stuff  out  as  it's  ready  or  —  you  can  go  back  to  sleep  while  you  wait,  if  you  want.   i  don't  mind.  it  happens  more  often  than  you'd  think,  actually."  it's  typically  their  older  clientele  who's  guilty  of  this,  however. "long night?"

He was still not quite over the initial embarrassment he felt from falling asleep, knowing he had been snoring too. Maybe he should had just gone home and ordered out, though he would have certainly fallen asleep on the couch and not heard the knocking at the door for his delivery, so this was maybe his best option.

He picked up the menu. Mouth almost watering at the thought of some food. “Eggs…” he muttered, too tired to realising he was reading aloud. He put the menu down and gazed up at the girl. “I’ll take a full English, extra eggs, some of those American style pancakes with maple syrup, and some brown toast, with honey and jam, thanks.” He nodded. It was a lot of food for only one man, but he knew he needed it.

“-Oh and yeah, it’s Zeke, and you’re Jemima right?” he smirked, pretending that he didn’t just read the name, though he had a rough idea of what her name was, he didn’t want to embarrass himself by getting it wrong.

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ @praedictas ( 𝙹𝙾𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙴𝙽𝚉𝙸𝙴 )

✧ . 𝚂𝙷𝙴'𝙳  𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁  𝙱𝙴  𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴  𝚃𝙾  𝙳𝙴𝙽𝚈  𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃  𝙷𝙾𝚆  𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙰𝙽  𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙴𝚁  𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂  𝙸𝚂.   the  true  dilemma  lies  in  the  cyclical  nature  of  the  logic  due  to  intermeshed  motivations  behind  each  choice.   she  has  to  take  a  moment  to  consider  her  choices   —   —  (  no,   it's  right.   i've  figured  it  out!   i  could  never  do  it  before.   i  think  i'm  getting  smarter.   it's  a  piece  of  cake!   )  something  about  the  nature  of  this  particular  quandary  feels  eerily  familiar.   not  quite  deja  vu,   but  a  close  cousin.   on  one  hand,   part  of  her  drive  to  be  closer  to  jonathan  comes  from  a  desire  to  succeed  in  the  theatre.   if  she  chooses  the  musical  herself,   success  is  practically  guaranteed.   but  on  the  other  hand,   she  wants  so  badly  to  succeed  in  order  to  impress  him,   and  this  is  a  rare  opportunity  to  encounter  him  outside  of  normal  operating  hours.   he  extends  one  little sweater paw of a hand,   and  she  can  hardly  suppress  a  smile.   impulsively,   her  hand  claps  to  her  mouth,   trying  to  contain  what  she's  sure  is  a  goofy,   childlike  grin.   eyes  flick  back  to  his  face,   and  she  feels  a  BLUSH  into  her  cheeks.   wyatt  is  beautiful.   wyatt  is  maybe  her  soulmate,   but   —   they're  not  even  dating.   not  yet.   the  way  people  are,   maybe  not  ever.   there's  no  harm  in  a  little  crush,   right?   gaze  drops  from  deep  brown  eyes  to  his  lips  with  the  quirk  on  one  side.   "deal."  she  gently,   softly,   slowly  slides  her  hand  into  his  own.   and  jemima's  eyes  meet  jonathan's  again.   "c'mon,   you're  telling  me  you  were  never  the  precocious  eight  year  old  entertaining  a  room  full  of  your  parents  friends?"  and  the  soft  pink  underbelly  is  hidden  behind  humor  once  more.   time  and  a  place  for  everything.   "persons  of  ambition  are  encouraged  to  build  friendships  with  people  more  socially  advanced  than  they  are,   and  not  just  their  equals."  of  course  she  has  friends  her  own  age.   she'd  go  crazy  if  she  couldn't  hole  up  with  dylan  and  jin  once  a  week  and  drink  herself  into  a  stupor,   takeout  and  rom  coms  optional.   "dylan  is  my  best  friend  and  i  would  die  for  her,   but  i  would  very  politely  lie  my  way  out  of  an  obligation  to  her  if  you  ever  unclenched  enough  to  let  me  actually  get  to  know  you."  it's  the  TRUTH,   pathetic  as  it  is.   it's  just  a  shame  she  has  no  idea  how  much  ammunition  she's  handing  him.

the only reason jemima found out about anything before anyone else was because she frequently pestered him to no end. most people annoyed him to no end regardless, but jemima annoyed him more than anyone else. he put up with her antics simply because she was the best performer he had, and even he could admit he owed much of his success to her. " tell you what, i'll let you help me pick a musical if it means you'll let me enjoy the festival in peace? " he offers what he believes is a rather tempting offer, knowing how eager jemima would be to not only show off her theater knowledge around him but also to brag about being given the opportunity to have a say in the spring musical. " do we have a deal? " he offers his hand, sleeves of his emerald green sweater pulled around his palms.

" what, are you incapable of making friends your own age? " he knew for a damn fact that was untrue, given her friend status with his daughter, but he'd rather toy with jemima longer, relish in the idea that dylan was so ashamed of him she'd kept their relationship hidden from even her best friend. " what about that little blonde i see you with? don't tell me i'm more interesting. " if dylan were to find out about this conversation she'd surely smother him in his sleep, but it was worth it just to see the look on her face. while he was her father, his petty childishness refused to cease. after all, dylan had started it.

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ @dawnslite ( 𝙵𝙰𝚈𝙴 𝙰𝙽 )

✧  .   𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷  𝙰  𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝚃  𝙾𝙲𝙲𝚄𝙿𝙸𝙴𝙳  𝙱𝚈  𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴  𝙱𝚄𝙶𝚂  𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽  𝙱𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚂, jemima  could  really  only  pretend  to  browse  the  pricey  clothes  on  the  racks  for  so  long.  so  when  faye  not  only  acknowledges  her  right  away  but  further  engages  with  the  conversation,  jemima  can't  help  but  frown  and  abandon  the  ruse.  "um  — "   nose  scrunched  up,  she  scratches  at  her  neck  absently  while  batting  at  a  hanger.   "yeah."   she  doesn't  exactly  want  faye,   of  all  people,  to  be  the  first  person  she's  told  of  her  decision.   not  to  mention  that  coming  in  at  all  was  yet  another  in  a  string  of  impulsive  and  likely  poor  decisions  she's  made  recently;  she's  furious  with  jonathan  and  feels  so  betrayed,   and  doesn't  know  if  his  offer  still  stands  or  if  she  even  wants  to  hold  him  to  it  at  all,  but  the  idea  to  try  and  rub  it  in  faye's  face  held  the  promise  of  at  least  a  slight  pick  me  up.  granted,  in  a  detestable  way,  but  beggars  can't  be  choosers.  and  now,  faye's  —   not  exactly  cooperating.  this  is  not  going  according  to  plan.   she  peeks  back  up  at  faye.  "i  was  thinking  about  chicago,   maybe.  i  thought  that  — "   she  thought  that  jonathan  might  have  fun  with  the  choreography.  it  was  something  different,   and  he  might  enjoy  the  change  of  pace.   plus  the  social  commentary   —  it  doesn't  matter  anymore.  she  had  been  hopeful.   she's  floundering  now,   drowning  on  dry  land. and she doesn't exactly have anyone else to easily confide in at the moment.   she  takes  a  deep  breath  and  eyes  momentarily  flare.  "you'd  have  fun  designing  the  costumes,   yeah?"

owning a shop filled with extravagant dresses meant a lot of curious browsing customers.     that was simply the truth of perfecting her craft,  faye had learnt over the years of witnessing people enter and exit for the sake of just wanting to look at the pieces.     it was such the norm that the designer often just waited to be sought out,  rather than her greeting every customer as if they were seeking custom garments.     

when jemima had entered,  they had been treated exactly as such,  but when she speaks up,  then faye’s head perks up and shows a casual smile to show she was indeed listening.     working with jonathan had meant meeting his ensemble,  and so she had already met the leading lady before now,  had fitted them for a costume or two already.     “  oh,  is he?  ”     she asks,  genuinely curious about the situation.     jemima might have an ego perfect for stardom,  but the truth was that they were undeniably talented,  so faye had simply brushed that aside before.     she certainly chooses to move past the pride jem showcases now,  considering the underlying oddness that faye can sense by how slyly the actress announces such a thing,  though unsure why the need to boast to her.     placing her pencil down upon her desk,  having been sketching designs all afternoon in the quiet,  she offers her full attention to the revelation.       “  that’s very exciting for you,  sweetheart !   are you choosing a favourite one of yours,  or one you’ve not had the chance to do yet?  ”

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ @enchantdly ( 𝚈𝚄𝚂𝚄𝙵 𝚂𝙰𝙸𝙵𝙸 )

✧. 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙰𝙽'𝚃 𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙿 𝙱𝚄𝚃 𝙶𝙸𝙶𝙶𝙻𝙴 when yusuf is startled, one hand clapping to her mouth. the other holding the bag raises in an excited, childlike wave. "why would you be carrying a knife all the way back here?" she hisses back at him playfully. as she passes him and ducks into the restaurant, one pale hand lands on yusuf's belly and she wiggles her fingers in an affectionate gesture. friends are best friends. there's no such thing as overly affectionate, overly familiar. she's fully aware it's not everyone's preference, but enjoys the feeling of being a controversial person. you either love her or hate her, there's no middle ground. if anything, the potential for disdain only increases her own enjoyment, as undesirable as that fact may be. "whatever you've got, it doesn't matter. i'm fucking starving. how are you holding up?"

a few colourful curses drop from yusuf's mouth as noise comes from behind him, shocking him out of his focused state. “ jemima ! don't do that, i could have been holding a knife ! ” not that he would have stabbed her or anything drastic like that, but neither of them needs a knife through the foot. but he softens at the sight of the takeaway bag and her offer of pie. strictly speaking, he isn't allowed to do things like this — trade food — but given he never actually makes use of his staff discount, it's not like the restaurant loses any money out of this. and his boss doesn't care, would probably do the same thing in his position.

“ come in, ” he says, “ what can i get you this time ? ” there's only one or two customers, and they're all happily eating, so he has plenty of time to make her whatever she asks for — within reason, of course. can't exactly go giving away their best stuff — then his boss would care.

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ @praedictas ( 𝙹𝙾𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙴𝙽𝚉𝙸𝙴 )

✧ . 𝚂𝙷𝙴'𝚂  𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻  𝚁𝙴𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃  𝙷𝙸𝚃  𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚂𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙳  𝙾𝙽𝙴  𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚂.  eyes  wide,   the  color  drains  from  her  face  the  moment  he  jabs  at  her  talent.   she  hates  herself  so  much  in  that  moment,   that  all  she  can  do  is  stand  there  while  her  hero  rips  into  her  —   in  public,  without  missing  a  beat.  "dylan?"  she  repeats,   dumbfounded,  still  only  partially  aware  of  the  scene  unfolding  around  her.   no,   unfortunately,   not  around  her.   this  train  crash  has  jemima  stern  as  the  SOLE  victim.   "your   —  ?"  finally,  the  tension  breaks,  string  holding  her  chest  breathless  and  defensively  tight is released and she collapses like a limp marionette.  she  laughs,  and  a  hope  flashes  across  her  eyes  for  the  briefest  moment.   "you're  joking."  the  relief  is  real:   she  believes,  for  just  a  second,  he's  teasing  her.   like  friends.  like  she  wants.   but  jonathan  is  stone.   he  doesn't  flinch,  and  he  certainly  doesn't  laugh  along  with  her.  the  lump  forms  in  her  throat  once  more  and  she  takes  a  shuddering  breath.   "you're  not  kidding,   are  you?   you're  —  "  dark  eyes  scan  his  face  pleadingly,   wishing  desperately  to  not  recognize  the  achingly  familiar  features  of  her  best  friend  in  the  man  standing  before  her.  but she's not so fortunate. she  visibly  recoils,   eyes  squeezing  shut  and  hands  flying  out  in  front  of  her,   putting  something   —   anything  —   physically  between  them.  her  entire  body  shakes,  and  one  hand  flies  to  her  eye  socket.  "i'm  so  stupid,  oh  my  god,"   she  breathes,  pressing  the  heel  of  her  hand  harder,  harder,   harder  and  wishing  that  nothingness  would  spread  to  her  whole  body.  "i'm  so  fucking  stupid."   jemima  takes  one  more  deep  breath,   and  straightens  suddenly,  movements  sharp  and  unnatural  and  so  revealing  of  her  pain.  she  tries  to  look  jonathan  in  the  eyes,  but  her  bottom  lip  trembles  like  a  child's  and  tears  threaten  to  stain  flushed  cheeks.  "you  can  say  whatever  you  want  about  me,  but  i  have  my  whole  life  ahead  of  me  —  "  her  words  have  unbearable  weight,  the  sword  of  damocles  effectively  killing  her  one  and  only  hero  in  a  single  blow,  but  she's  disconnected  from  them.   her tone is vacant and far-away. once upon a time, she looked down at herself from above and delivered the most hateful words she could manage, just as she's doing now. this feels familiar, this sudden realization. sudden power.   "and  you're  a  fucking  washed  up  hack.  somebody's  deadbeat  dad.  i  —   i  have  to  go."   she  should  feel  triumphant,  telling  him  off.  but  there's  no  emotion  present,  no  life  behind  her  glassy  eyes.   she  breaks  his  gaze  and  stumbles  backwards  as  though  out  of  a  trance  before  he  can  respond.   "i  need  to  leave."   without  another  look  to  jonathan,  she  turns  and  wades  into  the  crowd,  hot  tears  finally  pouring  down  her  cheeks.

he wants so desperately to shut jemima up or simply walk away. he can see that empathetic look in her eye the moment he mentions his childhood and he hates it. if it would've been socially acceptable he would've slapped that look right off her face, but even he wasn't that awful. he hated when anyone pitied him. it made him feel weak, less than. the last thing he ever wanted was to feel less than. never again.

" and now you're one of hundreds who thinks they deserve a place on the west end just because they're moderately good at holding a tune. " harsh, but he wasn't wrong, not technically. was it uncalled for? absolutely, but it was his payback for that pitiful look. " you're overly confident. you're still just a kid, you have plenty to improve upon before you're perfect. you might be better than the rest of the company but that means nothing to the bigger picture. " he's entirely truthful, even though he knew his words would sting her. she was too cocky, and she needed to come to terms with the harsh reality of her situation. it wasn't enough to just impress him, she needed to impress people even more important than he would ever be unfortunately.

he was grateful for the change of subject, even if that new subject pertained to his daughter. he figured he'd come to regret this conversation whenever dylan inevitably found out, but for now, he'd enjoy himself. " dylan? oh yeah, we go way back. " he says with a tinge of sarcasm and a roll of his dark eyes. " after all, she is my daughter. "

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ @praedictas ( 𝙹𝙾𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙴𝙽𝚉𝙸𝙴 )

✧ . 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙰𝙻𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝚈 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝚂 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝙴𝚇𝙿𝙴𝙲𝚃 𝙱𝚈 𝙽𝙾𝚆.  she  has  memories  of  jonathan  reprimanding  her  going  back  almost  as  far  as  she  can  remember.  or,  what  was  maybe  worse,   moments  like  these.   where  she  tried  so  hard  and  got  absolutely  NOTHING  in  return.  she's  sure  it's  apparent  to  most  people  who  know  her,  particularly  who  have  been  witness  to  any  lengthy  interaction  with  jon,  that  she  may  as  well  have  a  neon  sign  over  her  head  with  the  words  'daddy  issues.'  and  she's  not  an  idiot.  she  can  recognize  the  patterns.   if  anything,  she's  too  self-aware.   but  even  the  mental  fortitude  to  recognize  her  actions  isn't  enough  to  actually  stop  them.  every  day,  she  wakes  up  and  every  day,  the  loop  repeats.  𝙹𝙾𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜. 𝙸𝚗 𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖 — 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠. if  it  were  a  scene  in  a  play,  no  one  would  ever  deliver  the  lines  better  than  their  originating  actors.  every  other  performance  would  always  pale  in  comparison.  at  least,  in  jemima's  mind,  that's  the  case.  the  real  truth  is  that  she's  barely  even  a  blip  on  his  radar.  her  father  raised  her  always  at  arm's  length,   always  one  room  away  and  now  she  doesn't  know  how  to  be  close  to  the  people  who  want  to  be  close  to  her.  "please,  i  know  i'm  always  the  first  to  find out."  she  rolls  her  eyes  and  tries  to  play  it  off  as  an  easy  joke.  "i  just  thought   —   y'know.  i'm  probably  enough  of  an  adult  now  that  we  can  hang  out  and  it  wouldn't  be  weird."   bad.  bad  move.  that  was  too  far,  too  fast.  awkward  too-wide  smile  stays  fixed  in  place,  but  she's  only  a  good  actress  with  some  preparation.

all he craved was a day of peace. a day to push aside the stress of his job and the bullshit with his daughter. of course, the festival was the last place he'd be looking for such a thing, and if he were being honest, he had no interest in the event in the slightest. but alas, attending was the best way to keep up appearances — to remind everyone of what a salient member of society he was. plus, it gave him an opportunity to network, and expanding his outreach had always been his utmost priority.

jemima was far from peaceful. in fact, the sight of the young performer was enough to send a sharpness radiating through his temples. he'd seen dylan hanging around the kid and assumes jemima is the supposed friend his daughter had spoken of. he wonders if jemima knew more than she was letting on, but knowing dylan ( and jemima, frankly ) it didn't seem likely. it was just her luck that she'd come to call the one person who kissed up to him more than anyone her best friend. perhaps dylan didn't even know, and if she did, he wondered just how she was coping.

he groans at the sound of jemima's voice creeping up behind him, taking a moment to compose himself before turning to view the familiar face. " skip the small talk, stern. " they both knew exactly why she had cornered him. same reason she had done so many times before now. " i haven't picked the spring musical yet. you'll know as soon as everyone else does. "

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ @praedictas ( 𝙹𝙾𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙰𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙴𝙽𝚉𝙸𝙴 )

✧ . 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚆𝙰𝚈  𝙷𝙴  𝚂𝙰𝚈𝚂  𝙸𝚃  𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂  𝙷𝙴𝚁  𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻  𝚂𝙰𝙳.   it's  an  odd  emotion,  and  feels  for  a  moment  like  something  sharp  stuck  between  two  of  her  ribs.  not  that  the  emotion  itself  is  strange  to  her,  but  feeling   —   what  is  this?  pity?   —   for  jonathan  is  new.  and,  quite  frankly,  not  something  she  was  altogether  prepared  for.  she's  not  sure  how  she  feels  about  it,  but  the  moment  is  filed  away  for  later.  she'll  go  over  it  for  hours  later  that  night  when  she's  lying  in  bed,  unpacking  her  day  just  to  pack  it  neatly  away  for  later  before  starting  the  next  day.  "well,  you  were  missing  out,  then,"  she  finally  says,  smiling  wryly,  trying  to  pick  the  momentum  back  up.  "i  don't  think  anyone  turned  down  one  of  my  performances  until  i  had  pimples already.  huuuuuuuge  boost  to  the  ol'  ego."  this  part  is  hard,  sometimes.  she's  aware  of  how  much  she  stands  to  gain  from  jonathan's  approval,  both  in  the  company  as  a  whole,  but  also  in  terms  of  inner  child  healing   —   or  some  other  such  nonsense.  but  that  almost  made  her  wish  things  were  different.   wendy  rushed  to  peter  pan  with  her  arms  out  and  said  how  she  wished  to  hold  him.  part  of  being  a  woman,  jemima thinks,  is  meeting  a  man  and  feeling  the  grievous  burden  of  the  phrase  'if  only  things  were  different.'  maybe  if  they  were  another  two  people.  hell,  maybe  if  she  were  older  or  he  were  younger.   if  she'd  somehow  had  the  opportunity  to  change  the  course  before  he  became   —   THIS.  what  words  can  she  choose  to  convey  all  of  this?  "i'm  already  better  than  everyone  else  in  the  company,  and  i  know  you  know  it.  i  don't  know  what  else  you  could  offer  my  'social  standing.'"  she  repeats  his  phrasing  with  air  quotes.   "i  just  like  having  friends  that  i  can  respect,  and  it's  kind  of  hard  to  value  the  opinion  of  many  people  when   —   i've  heard  their  opinions."  dylan?   the  confusion  is  etched  across  her  face  before  she  speaks  again.  "why  would  dylan  have  anything  to  say  about  you?"  she  laughs   —   a  confused  little  snort,  head  jerking  backwards  on  her  neck.  "i   —   didn't  know  you  guys  had  even  met.  have  you?"

back when they had first met, jonathan had always presumed jemima was just ambitious, but as time went on it became clear her interest in him was more than just a desire to impress her director. unfortunately he'd never been very interested in making friends, only acquaintances who could get him somewhere in life. he'd learned to be cutthroat at a young age, he'd just been good at hiding it. he was fairly certain the only person he could ever consider a friend was faye an, and even then they were never that close, only swept up by circumstance.

" i never really had that kind of childhood. " he admits. thinking about it, he didn't remember much of his childhood at all, just the few things he'd frequently shared ( his father's disappointment, stuffy dinner parties, growing up the be the same menace his daughter was now ) but even then he'd been fuzzy on the details. " so you're hoping a friendship with me will boost your social standing? " she wasn't wrong, but he wasn't sure what she'd do for him other than piss dylan off further. speaking of. " well, why don't you just ask your friend dylan, then? sure she's got a hell of a lot she'd like to say about me. " bad idea, jonathan. very, very bad idea.

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ @lvndersbloom ( 𝙳𝚈𝙻𝙰𝙽 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙷𝙰𝙼 )

✧  .   𝙼𝙰𝚈𝙱𝙴  𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂  𝚆𝙰𝚂  𝙰  𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴.   so  much  of  the  past  twenty  four  hours  have  felt  entirely  surreal.  she's  not  really  sure  how  she  got  even  those  few  hours  of  sleep,   and  she'd  made  several  decisions  yet  today  without  stopping  to  consider  any  of  them.   jemima  is  dramatic,  to  be  fair.   she  takes  full  advantage  of  every  situation  which  presents  itself  to  her:   every  one  is  an  opportunity  to  experience  emotion,  to  be  excruciatingly  human.  but  the  bad  emotions  feel  so   —  big.   overwhelming.   right  now,  the  confusion  and  the  hurt  is  pressing,  pressing,   pressing  and  threatening  to  steal  every  last  breath  from  her  lungs,  cave  her  chest  in.  "i  can't  do  this,"  she  breathes,  eyes  bugged  out.   a  hand  flies  to  her  forehead  and  eyes  begin  to  involuntarily  roll.  jemima  slumps  to  the  floor,  back  against  the  apartment's  front  door,  holding  her  head  and  beginning  to  sob.   dylan  is  right:   she's  a  great  friend.  her  best  for  a  reason.  this  isn't  the  first  meltdown  dylan  has  born  witness  to,  and  it  certainly  won't  be  the  last.  jemima  is  trying  so  hard  to  get  the  words  out,  but  the  only  thought  she  can  form  at  the  moment  is  a  pulsing  i  want  to  go  home,   i  can't  do  this,  i  don't  want  to  be  here. bottom  lip  sucks  into  her  mouth  and  finally  jemima  looks  back  to  dylan,  vision  blurred  by  tears.  she  feels  like  an  overgrown  child  on  the  best  of  days,  and  the  hangover  isn't  doing  her  any  favors.   "your  father,  dyl?  and  you  let  him  just  —  tell  me  like  that?  you  both  let  me  not  know  like  some  kind  of  fucking  idiot?  i  feel  so  stupid!"

𝐟𝐭  .   jemima stern   (   @perfectoffering   )

there's   something   to   be   said   about   waking   up   in   such   a   violent   way.   dylan   likes   to   ease   into   awareness,   has   about   a   dozen   snoozes   set   up   on   her   phone   to   ensure   she   can   sleep   in   all   she   wants   -   and   most   days   she   takes   advantage   of   each   one.   today   -   that's   apparently   not   going   to   be   the   case.  

"   fuck.   jem,   why   so   violent.   "   her   voice   is   still   heavy   with   sleep   and   is   but   a   whine   as   it   comes   out,   dylan's   hand   raising   to   run   at   the   spot   where   the   box   had   hit.   she   blinks   to   clear   the   sleep   out,   spotting   a   nearby   can   and   raising   it   to   her   head   -   the   slight   coolness   of   the   aluminum   can   welcome   against   her   pounding   head.

the   voice   of   her   friend   waking   her   wasn't   unexpected,  nor   is   her   loud   volume.   but   the   anger   in   her   tone,   that's   new.   jemima's   always   been   dramatic,   dylan   wouldn't   get   along   with   them   so   well   if   they   weren't.   but   the   aspiring   actress   is   prone   to   theatrics,   and   so   she   thinks   little   of   it.

"   you   look   how   i   feel.   "   she   remarks,   and   the   hypocrisy   is   obvious,   as   she   tries   to   pull   herself   up   slightly.   she'd   been   in   a   bundle   on   the   ground,   hair   still   slightly   damp   with   what   she   thinks   is   either   water   from   the   falls   or   the   remainder   of   whatever   she'd   been   drinking   when   she   passed   out.   a   quick   inhale   tells   her   it's   both.

"   i'm   a   great   friend,   excuse   you.   i   hold   your   hair   back   when   you   throw   up   and   everything.   "

[perfectoffering]

𝙹𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 ⤐ @lvndersbloom ( 𝚆𝚈𝙰𝚃𝚃 𝙲𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙴 )

✧.   𝚂𝙷𝙴  𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂  𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙳  𝚂𝙾  𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙳  𝚃𝙾  𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚆  𝚄𝙿  𝚀𝚄𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝚈.   reading  peter  pan  as  a  child,   jemima  often  felt  like  wendy  darling  in  REVERSE.   wendy  was  so  poised,   put-together.   mother  to  the  boys.   a  young  lady  who  held  her  youth  as  a  delicate  and  tender  flower.   jemima,   on  the  other  hand,   was  taught  that  youth  was  a  weapon  to  be  used  against  you  by  those  who  had  already  shed  their  own.   she  wanted  so  desperately  to  cling  to  the  trappings  of  a  childhood  she  was,   in  many  ways,   denied  altogether.   fairytales  and  happy  endings.   but  there  was  no  prince  coming  to  save  her,   so  while  wendy  was  allowed  to  come  to  her  own  conclusions  about  adulthood,   jemima  was  made  to  believe  all  soft  things  have  sharp  edges.   everyone's  childhood  is  wrenched  away  from  them,   crying  and  screaming.   𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝   —   —  it's  like  wyatt  had  something  in  his  cologne  or  perhaps  even  a  chemical  which  is  secreted  by  his  very  skin.   the  MOMENT  jemima  is  around  him,   it's  like  the  walls  she'd  spent  so  many  years  building  crumbled  instantly  and  without  fuss.   she  heard  sentimental  words,   dripping  with  honey,   coming  from  her  own  mouth,   flowing  like  water,   before  she'd  even  processed  what  she  was  confessing.   being  with  wyatt  felt   —   magical.   nothing  short  of  her  very  own  fairytale,   finally.   "do  you  think  so?"  she  smiles.   "i  wasn't  expecting  very  much.   some  of  the  food  is  incredible."  turning  her  attention  back  to  the  flowers  with  glistening  eyes,   she  absent-mindedly  reaches  for  wyatt's  hand,   intertwining  his  fingers  with  her  own.   "if  you're  bored,   we  could  always  go  back  to  my  place."  sometimes  there  are  drawbacks  to  living  so  close  to  your  best  friend.   very,   very  rarely.   but  paper-thin  walls  and  two  unpredictable  schedules  make  it  indescribably  difficult  to  be  romantic.   on  the  other  hand,   the  whole  town  is  here. now.   which  means  the  apartment  is  as  empty  as  it'll  ever  be.

𝐟𝐭  .   jemima stern   (  @perfectoffering   )

"   well   now,   precious.   here   i   am.   "

wyatt greets, his attention turning from the garden to her with ease. the   festival   is   a   bore,   to   him.   of   course,   the   flowers   are   lovely   -   some   curiouser   than   others,   but   all   the   same   simply   lovely.   for   one   who   spends   much   of   his   time   in   his   shop,   surrounded   by   ageless   relics,   it   is   a   welcome   change.   but   still,   there's   no   excitement   (   aside   from   the   offered   alcohols   )   that   can   claim   his   interest   -   save   for   jemima.

jemima   is   different   than   any   of   the   other   fools   in   town.   not   because   of   any   one   thing   she   does   -   though   she   still   remains   a   talented   actress   -   but   because   she   haunts   him.

fear   me,   love   me,   do   as   i   say   .   .   .   and   i   will   be   your   slave.  

the   speech   echos   in   his   mind.   images   of   her   (   younger,   perhaps,   but   still   her   )   in   an   ethereal   gown   of   glass   stones   and   lace   -   pearls   and   diamonds   -   spinning   around   a   sparkling   ballroom   came   later,   and   they   wondered   first   if   she   might've   played   the   role   of   a   princess   in   some   production   over   the   years.   they   confused   him,   more   often   than   anything,   for   they   held   far   more   weight   than   any   dream   ever   had.

" yes, they're quite beautiful. " his attention remains on her, rather than the forever blooming gardens of enchanted falls. "   though for a festival, it's rather a bore.   "