#*knew the extent of how shitty this is for me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trippinsorrows · 7 months ago

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with me + part two

authors note: well, holy shit, the response to this has been so unexpected yet insanely appreciated and humbling! the kind words of support and interest really have been so wonderful to receive. thank you thank you thank you!

this ended up much longer than i intended, but i couldn't find a "good" place to break it in half, so i apologize for the length.

i also feel like this is a bit on the boring but necessary side in terms of setting the scene and backdrop for what's to come....

i also feel like this is gonna def be more than 4 parts, so sorry!!!!

warnings: language, slight sexy time, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny's child

words: 7.5k

tag gang: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion @tshepisho @lizzycaraballo-blog @xiamentshoneypot

“I need a break.” He slid out of you, the absence of his thick dick noticeable and borderline uncomfortable. Despite the fact that your voice was hoarse, limbs jello, and pussy tender as all outdoors, you still wanted him. Wanted to feel him inside you. But you knew you also needed some amount of time for your body recoup for the next round, so you made logic overpowered lust.

He made a sound, lying on his back, eyes on the ceiling. “So fucking needy for this dick.”

“Shut up.” It was intentionally not a denial, because he wasn’t entirely wrong. It’d been a shitty past couple weeks, what with parent teacher conferences, your least favorite time of the year. There were only so many different ways you could try to gently explain to parents that their child wasn’t the next Cornel West and actually could benefit from “additional evaluations.” But that almost always went over their heads as they attempted to tell you, the professional, the real reason why their child wasn’t doing well.

You were just over all of it and damn near at your wits end when you got the text from Joe that he’d be in town this weekend. That goofy ‘i’m about to get some good dick’ smile was damn near stamped on your face in the days preceding his arrival. You needed an outlet, and wearing yourself out on his dick until you were physically incapacitated happened to be the perfect one, the best one.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have options, you did, but they were subpar. And that was the problem with having a chance to experience superior dick, everything else that followed was mid. No one had ever fucked you like Joe. No man before him had ever made you come from just penetration. You always needed more. Had to sometimes physically instruct them on what you needed. Not with him. He gave you more—-the man could and had stayed with his face buried between your legs for hours on end—-but it wasn’t necessary. He could fuck you to a toe curling, light blinding climax with just a few good, deep strokes.

And yes, you still struggled with the guilt of fucking someone else’s man, but in times like this, where you were beyond stressed the fuck out, all you could think about was getting off and decreasing that stress. The guilt session could come later.

“What’s wrong?” He asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. You could both be around each other and not say a word without an ounce of discomfort. It was nice.

“Parents suck.” You answer, bluntly, afterwards realizing how vague that is. “I’ve had parent teacher conferences the past couple weeks, and they’ve been getting on my nerves trying to tell me how to do my job.”

“That sounds annoying.”

“Beyond, and makes me feel like they’re insinuating I don’t know what I’m talking about. I do. They just don’t want to hear it.” They prepared you in school, to some extent, to expect those select parents that weren’t the easiest to work with but to always stand behind your professional judgment regardless if one agreed or not. And for the most part, your parents in the years since you’d been teaching were relatively chill. It just seemed that this time of the year is when all of them decided to be in their difficult era.

One hand behind his head, Joe looks over at you. “Then that’s on them.” He shrugs. “You can’t make them hear what they don’t want to hear.”

Groaning loudly, you turn on your side, propping your own head up with your hand. “I know. It just sucks for the kids. There’s a couple who might be on the spectrum or have ADHD, but I can’t outright say it, so all I can do is strongly imply. And trust me, my implications are clear as fucking day. It’s just annoying when I have to work harder than I should to get people to be their kids' advocate, not their adversary.”

He’s quiet for a second and then asks. “What’s the best part of your job?”

The answer doesn’t even require contemplation. “My students. Hands down. I love kids. I love helping them learn and seeing the excitement on their face when they finally grasp a concept I’m teaching. It’s super rewarding.”

His gaze lingers on you, “Then focus on that. You do this because it’s a passion and a love and you’re clearly good at it.”

His words marinate over you, reminiscent of past conversations where you’re the one feeding positivity into him, reminding him to not lose focus of what’s most important and why he does what he does. The roles being reversed is different but nice. It’s nice to have him to talk to, it’s always easy to do so.

You move your hand to his chest and slowly walk your fingers downward. “Good dick and good advice. This trip is a double win for me.”

His jaw clenches when you begin to stroke him, sinfully and intentionally slowly. A smirk forms on your face. He’s just as needy for you as you are for him.

Joe’s voice is hoarse with desire. “You ready for the next round?”

“Yes.” You’re not sure if physically, you’re well enough, but that’s what epsom salt baths are for. And Motrin. You need him. Climbing on top, you grab his hardened length and align it at your entrance, dew coating the tip and serving as natural lubricant. “But I want to be on top this time.”

________

“Mommy!”

You’re startled awake by the loud voice, jumping body, and smiling face of your personal alarm clock. The only alarm clock you’ve ever had that you can’t dictate the time it goes off. It takes a second for you to settle yourself, to push away the inappropriate afterthoughts of such a salacious dream—one you’re slightly disappointed couldn’t play out longer—to focus on the little human in front of you.

The shining sun beaming down on you from the curtains you’re certain she opened assists in doing just that. You rub at your eyes, a small, warm smile growing. “Good morning, Callie Bear.”

Her eyes, big, brown, and always full of curiosity are focused on you as she stops jumping and lands on her knees. “You’re up!”

You chuckle, how can you not be up with a rambunctious four year old jumping on your bed and screaming for you to wake up? ”I’m up.”

“Yay!” She cheers, tiny fists raised up and victory. “Can we have pancakes?”

“I don’t know.” You pretend to contemplate her request, index finger against your bottom lip. “Can we?”

She pouts, and you bite on your lip to suppress your laughter. Her arms cross over her tiny chest, bonnet covered head tilting to the side. “May we have pancakes?”

Sometimes, you feel bad for your daughter, having a teacher for a mother. You’re always going to be on her about anything academic related, especially English. “We certainly can.” Yawning, you sit up in bed and scratch your scalp through your bonnet. “But first, hygiene.”

Swooping her into your arms, you’re met with a chorus of giggles as you tickle her stomach with your index finger. Walking into the bathroom, you sit her on the counter and reach her her toothbrush, putting on her (Halle Bailey) Little Mermaid themed toothpaste before letting her do her thing as you do hers.

This is the first time in a while that you’re grateful for your daughter waking you up so early on a weekend. Those dreams….you’d be lying if you said they didn’t happen more than you’d like to admit. You’d tried to figure out what triggered them but have yet to be successful.

The simplest answer would be that you miss him. You miss Joe, but that’s also the answer you refuse to admit. You can’t miss him. Don’t have the right to miss someone else’s man, someone else’s husband.

All you can do is be appreciative that one of the biggest regrets in your life brought you your biggest blessing.

Calista, Callie, to almost everyone she knows, was a complete and utter surprise.

It was time for your women’s wellness exam, and in the set of questions they asked you, one was of course the date of your last menstrual cycle. Being stumped for a second was normal, hence why you used your beloved Flo app to track your cycle. But, it’s when you opened the app and realized you hadn’t logged a period in two months, you knew.

Didn’t need a blood test to tell you the obvious.

You were most definitely pregnant.

You’d used Flo consistently since you were 14 years old, there was no way in hell you’d forgotten for two whole months to input the period dates.

So, after crying and damn near having a panic attack, your doctor provided you with pamphlets. Options, as they were called. You wouldn’t review them until a couple days later, needing that time to process that you were actually pregnant. Pregnant by a married man that you’d ended things with, ironically, on the night your daughter was conceived.

What in the actual fuck were you supposed to do? Send him a text and say ‘nvm. Congrats, we’re expecting. Are you gonna tell your wife or should I?’ To this day, you’re convinced that the nasty wave of ‘morning sickness’ you experienced the first few weeks of finding out you were with child was actually just your absolute disgust that you’d allowed another woman’s husband to impregnate you.

It was like you were walking in the same footsteps your mother molded for you. Something you swore you’d die before letting happen.

What’s that saying? We make plans, and God laughs. Well, he must be having a field day with you.

It was actually in confiding in Mariah, your best friend since kindergarten, that you were able to look past your shame and panic to see this for what it is.

“You want to have kids, don’t you?” She asked in an obvious tone, picking through the big bowl of popcorn you two shared while Insecure played at a low volume on your TV. “Well, here’s the kid.”

“I wanted to have kids with a husband, Mariah.”

“Well—“

“Shut up.” You tossed a few pieces of popcorn in her direction. This was not the time for her occasional joke. You were too busy having a mental breakdown.

“Does it really matter how the baby got here? Aren’t you the one always saying kids are a blessing? Why are you trying to block yours?” It’s a fair, valid point that you’re too stubborn to want to hear, even if it’s what you needed to hear. “I’m just saying if you’ve been blessed with being a mom, something you’ve always wanted. Seems kinda silly we’re having this discussion instead of baby names, baby showers, and gender reveals.”

“I’m not doing a gender reveal.” That much you are absolutely sure of. Never. But, Mariah’s words do resonate with you. Why were you so caught up on how you got pregnant? Yeah, it was fucked up, but dwelling on it did nothing but make you feel worse. You always imagined this would be a happy occasion, couldn’t you find it in you to be happy? Regardless of the father and that whole Tubi of a situation.

There was a life growing inside of you, no matter the dynamics of the creation, the child had done nothing wrong, didn’t deserve to be blamed. And the truth was you weren’t really that upset, you were more happy than anything, if you really allowed yourself to feel without reservation. Borderline excited, even. Maybe even at the fact that you would always have a small piece of him with you in a really big way.

Even if he wouldn’t be a part of that experience.

And it was then that you decided. You didn’t care what anyone thought, couldn’t think about how your mother, who was completely unaware about your relationship with Joe for the entire three years, would react. You’d figure out the rest of this later because you were having this baby, but you were having this baby by yourself. Joe couldn’t know.

He wouldn’t know.

And almost five years later, nothing has changed. Yes, you absolutely couldn’t see yourself making it through your pregnancy and even the first few weeks postpartum without the help of your mom and Mariah. But, for the most part, you did everything you could by yourself for your daughter, wanting her to see the strength and perseverance of a strong, single mother.

She finishes brushing before you and spits out the remnant toothpaste in her mouth. “Are we gonna see grandma today?”

You finish a few seconds after, spitting and wiping your mouth before answering. “We certainly are.”

“Yay!” She celebrates as you bring the towel to her face, giving it a gentle cleanse before tossing it into the hamper. Callie wastes no time in removing her bonnet and giving her curls a good shake. The two of you share a laugh as you follow suit.

“Pancake time?”

Separating some of her coils, you answer with a wink. “Let mommy wash her face, and I’ll be right out, kiddo.”

“Okay.” Nodding, she jumps off the counter and hurries into the kitchen knowing good and well what’s about to come out of your mouth.

“Sis, what have I told you about jumping off this damn counter?” All you hear is giggling in the wake of her dash. This child has daredevil tendencies that bring out a certain, uncomfortable level of anxiety. Medical bills weren’t in the budget, so you needed her to calm the hell down.

She probably gets it from–

Shaking your head from unnecessary thoughts, you quickly work your way through your routine and eventually meet her in the kitchen to find her on her tablet, probably trying to figure out what movie to put on while you two cook. On the weekends, you remove the passcode from her device but still maintain the time limits for her overall screen time.

You refuse to allow her to become an “ipad kid.”

“What’cha pick for us?” Moving through the kitchen, you pull out the necessary items and place them on the small island.

Climbing onto the barstool, she flips the screen with a proud smile. “Moana!”

Gasping with faux surprise, you ask, “again?”

Much like her mother who was like her mother, an affinity and passion for all things Disney is another thing your child inherited. She could watch Disney movies for the rest of life and never get bored. And Moana was at the top of that list, the new Little Mermaid was a close favorite, but Moana resonated deeply with Callie for reasons you still don’t fully understand.

Well, she is half Pacific Islan—

Clearing your throat, you and Callie get to work on breakfast, both singing along and dancing to the catchy Disney music. It’s a sweet bonding moment between the two of you, a bit of a tradition on the weekends. You’re not much of a cook, at all, but breakfast food is relatively simple. And thankfully, your child is not as picky as some other kids. A stack of pancakes with sausage is always enough to satisfy her.

It’s when you’re both sitting in the living room, on the floor, legs crossed while you eat the delicious breakfast that you’d prepared together that a thought crosses your mind.

A distraction could be beneficial, the dream from earlier still floating around in the back of your head. And not even the dream in as much as the main event from the theme.

You needed some dick. It’d been too long, that itch needing a scratch to give you some much needed reset.

So, it’s when Callie is focused on the scene in Moana when Maui’s hook is broken that you grab your phone and shoot off a text.

You free today?

Not even five minutes later, your phone buzzes with a response.

Just tell me when and where.

________

Walking through the doors of your mother’s hair salon is always an experience, nostalgic almost, to all the times you and your friends would hang out there with the hopes that you could get free or discounted services. Usually free for you, not so much for your friends.

Business was still business.

The familiar smell of hair oils, deep conditioner, and the overall sound of flat irons sizzling through hair brings a warm smile to your face. It’s things like this, this place even, that remind you why you decided to come home after college.

Home, where the closest major stores like Target and Walmart, and even the airport, are nearly half an hour away. Where you have only one elementary school, one middle school, and one high school. Where many of the streets are two laned and littered with storefronts, like your mom’s salon. Hell, the freaking bank, post office, and city hall are in the same building.

Everyone knows everyone, and for the most part, everyone looks out for each other.

It isn’t for everybody, this almost Hallmark movie type setup. You know this. Hence why many leave for school and never or seldom return. But, for you, it’s home.

It’s also the perfect place to discreetly and raise the daughter of a celebrity.

“Grandma!”

Your mom is in the middle of a conversation with a patron but almost immediately redirects her attention to the equally familiar voice of Calista. “There’s my grandbaby!” Callie runs into your mom’s arms and is peppered with kisses all over. “Looking more and more like your mama every day.”

That genuinely makes you smile. You tend to think she favors Joe more than yourself, usually when she’s making certain facial expressions. She has a lot of his mannerisms, which you are grateful for, happy that she has characteristics from both sides. But any and all of the good things she can take from you, you want her to have.

Callie’s smile is bright and infectious, as always. “That’s cause mommy’s my mommy!”

You laugh, approaching them and leaning in for your mom’s one armed hug as she has Callie in her other arm. “Hey, mama.”

“Hey, baby.”

Your relationship with your mom has definitely been up and down over the years, which you’d like to think is the standard for most mother-daughters. It’s something that’s arguably strengthened over time, especially post Callie. You’d gained so much more appreciation for your mother raising you on her own as a single parent. There was always appreciation, but infinitely more now as you were also in the same position.

“I was hoping she could hang out with you for a little bit today. I have some business to take care of. If that’s okay?”

Your mother gives you the look, the look that indicates she knows there’s more to what you’re saying but she won’t push out of respect for your privacy. And you’re grateful for that. You don’t necessarily want to explain that you need her to keep an eye out on Callie while you attend your dick appointment.

Sucking her teeth, she starts walking to the back where her office is located. “When have I ever had an issue spending time with my only grandchild?” She has you there. Your mom would take Callie every day if you let her, and you’re so thankful for that. Not even for the tremendous assistance your mom provides but for the close relationship she has with Callie, similar to how close you were with your grandma. “Want me to do her wash day for her while she’s here?”

At that, Callie’s eyes go wide as she starts to whine, “noooo. I don’t want to.”

You chuckle. “That’s how mommy feels too, babes.” You dreaded her wash day as much as you dreaded your own. The women in your family were blessed with long, thick, healthy curls that Callie clearly inherited from you but also her father’s side cause the girl had some hair. “If you don’t mind, mama.”

She waves off your unnecessary added comment and starts to assess the state of Callie’s hair, murmuring comments to herself.

You lean down in front of Callie and move your hand to her knee. “You sure you’re gonna be okay, sweetie?”

She nods and asks, “can we get ice cream when you come back?”

“We surely can.” You don’t allow her to have a lot of sweets—she already has enough energy as it is—but every so often, you two get the homemade ice cream cones at the local parlor. Sometimes you’ll sit outside and just talk, sharing laughs and inside jokes over the best ice cream anyone could ever have. And considering she’s about to endure a wash day, she deserves it. “I love you, Callie Bear.”

Putting her tablet on her lap, she leans over and hugs you tight. For such a tiny human, she always gives the best, most loving hugs. “I love you too, mama.”

Callie goes back to her tablet, and you issue your mom one more statement of appreciation before heading out so you can have your urge squashed and get back in time to have dessert with your little girl.

On the car ride there, you send up a quick prayer that this time will be different, that you can get what you need and be gone without being asked to stay. It’s always the same answer, so maybe the last one finally stuck to where he won’t hope.

Won’t get his own feelings hurt.

________

“You know you don’t always have to leave right away.”

Of course.....of course.

You’re in the midst of hooking your bra back on when he hits you with the offer you were stupidly hoping he’d pass on this time around.

Bold of you to assume you could come get some dick without this man trying to turn it into a cuddle session.

Your smile is tight as you politely decline. “I don’t want to leave Callie at the salon too long. You never know what she’s hearing.”

It’s a weak excuse, hence him poking a hole right through it. “You know your mom would shut that down right away. Get back in the bed.”

“Really, Amir, I can’t stay.” Once your bra is on, you reach on the ground for your panties, sliding them back on as well. The sooner you get yourself decent, the sooner you can dip.

“Can’t or won’t?”

And here it goes. Sometimes, you wonder why you continue to put yourself in this situation. Amir’s stroke game is nice, but is it really worth this constant routine? You two fuck, he tries to make it more, an argument, silence on both ends for a little while until one of you needs that urge handled. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

It’s been roughly the same since you were in high school.

Amir was your first damn near everything: first crush, first boyfriend, first kiss, first time. It was a textbook small town romance. He was the quarterback, and you were the cheerleading captain. Everyone said you were perfect together and predicted at one point you’d get married after college. Truthfully, you once thought the same. But outside of aesthetics, your relationship was always rocky, borderline toxic.

He had poor boundaries with other girls but never saw an issue because it never went beyond flirting. And because you were young, dumb, and just as toxic sometimes, you’d intentionally flirt with other guys to piss him off, knowing it was wrong to drag innocents into your Bobby and Whitney of a relationship but more interested in making him see your side of it..

Still, young and dumb. Not an excuse, but definitely a reason.

Even as you both went off to college, each attending separate schools, you’d occasionally hookup during the winter breaks. More often during the summer. He was your constant, preferred over allowing random dick into you, especially as he was most familiar and you knew he was clean. The devil you know type of thing.

Post college was when you really ended it, deciding that it was time to put the childish things behind you, time to put him behind you.

And you’d done relatively well for a while, the two of you becoming damn near strangers. Especially when Joe came into the picture. Amir was good in bed, but Joe was heavenly. Just the thought of anyone other than him fucking you at that time was repulsing.

But, Joe is gone, has been, so now you’re stuck returning to the same nigga you just can’t seem to get rid of because he has a decent sized dick he, mostly, knows how to use.

And your rose can only go so far.

“Fine. Won’t. Don’t. Not interested.” Standing up, you shoot him a look of challenge, of defiance. “Better?”

Your words understandably tick him off as he cruelly asks, “How long are you gonna let yourself be stuck on him? That nigga abandoned you and his kid, what is there to even be stuck on?”

Regardless of what happened between you and Joe, mostly with how it played out, you refuse to allow anyone to speak badly of him. Specifically when it pertains to his absence in your and Callie’s lives, especially since that was 100% your call. Only a select few know the full story, therefore the majority have no right to speak on it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so please just shut the fuck up.”

“Where is he then, huh? It’s been almost 5 years, Y/N. You need to move the fuck on. He’s your past.” Moving out of the bed, he comes up to you and places one hand to your face. You fight the desire to pull away. His touch is suddenly uncomfortable, feels wrong and noisome. “It’s time to focus on your future.”

Not that you’d ever admit it to Amir, but there’s a hint of truth to his voice. Eventually, random hookups to fulfill your sexual needs will become insufficient. Hell, even now, you still desire to be married, to give Callie that 'traditional' family. The problem is mostly lack of options, even if Amir seems convinced you two should give it another try.

When hell freezes over.

Your voice is even and to the point as you finish dressing and pull out your key fob. “Like I said, thanks for the scratch, but that’s all this is.” Without giving him time to talk more shit, you head out the door without another fucking word.

________

“Oh shit, is that ole girl Randy used to mess with?” Joe is only halfheartedly listening to what his cousin is saying, mostly focused on the work email he’s reading on his phone. It’s far and few in between they actually have time off, let alone enough time to go home and be among the rest of family. He’s trying to enjoy it and is enjoying it, but work is always on his mind, hence his inability to ignore the email notification that slid in mid-group conversation. “What was her name?”

“It started with an M, didn’t it?” Jey suggests. “Mariah, I think.”

It's when the correct name is stated that Joe’s attention is briefly redirected. Mariah was your friend, the reason he was ever introduced to you. It’s a name he hasn’t heard in years. If only that was the same amount of time it’s been since he thought of you. No, instead, you’ve taken up real estate in his mind more than he’d ever like to admit or acknowledge.

“Wait, isn’t that—-” Jimmy is silenced, and out of the corner of Joe’s eye, he can see it’s because Jey gave him a look. That look you give someone when you want them to shut up.

Now…now they have his attention.

“What?” It’s when the twins share a look with each other, Jey shaking his head that Joe puts his phone to the side as Jimmy hits the lock button on his phone. “Let me see.”

“Look, Uce—”

“I said, let me see.” One thing Joe can’t stand more than anything is when people beat around the bush or try to hide things from him. He prefers people to be upfront and honest, damn whatever feelings come up. The truth is always better, in his mind.

And yet……

Shaking his head, Jimmy blows out a breath and hands his cousin the phone.

Joe looks down and instantly regrets ever pushing the matter.

Five years.

It’s been almost five fucking years since he’s seen that beautiful smile, those deep dimples that were one of the first things he noticed about you, outside of your breathtaking beauty. You looked almost exactly the same, maybe a bit heavier, still in all of the right places. Hair a little longer but still the same deep onyx with streaks of purple. You’re smiling and posing with Mariah who also hasn’t changed much outside of a new hair color and the huge baby bump she’s sporting. A baby shower, he’d guess.

But outside the shock of seeing you, Joe’s attention is also on the third person in the photo. A child, young in age, no more than 4 or 5, black, curly hair styled in two space-buns and a deep dimpled smile that’s almost identical to yours. Her eyes are a beautiful light brown shade, a contrast to your chocolate colored eyes.

But similar to….similiar to his.

Brows furrowed, Joe is surprised to see you’re tagged in the photo, so he goes to your profile and is even more shocked to find it public. You were always such a private person, but he chalks it up to the fact that the only people who’d really know how to find it would have to be those close to you.

You don’t have a ton of pictures, but he clicks on the first one that has a set of photos of you and the same little girl from the baby shower. It’s dated almost six months ago, so not the newest but better than nothing. The post is a slideshow, so he begins to scroll through the photos, each of them with you and that same child, clearly at various points in her life. The last one stops him for a moment, a photo of you, crying, in a hospital bed holding a newborn baby.

Swallowing back his emotions, Joe redirects his gaze to the caption:

my calista, my callie, my baby girl. God used one of the hardest periods of my life to bless me with the best gift anyone can receive. every day with you is an adventure. from your incessant questions about the most random of things, constant requests for disney movie marathons, to the way you refuse to part from me without giving the biggest hug and kiss goodbye while yelling ‘i love you, mommy!’. callie, you are my whole heart, and there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, sweet girl. here’s to year 4 and many many more of having the biggest honor and privilege ever of being your mama bear.

So many things are going through his head right now.

You had a child.

You have a child.

Based upon the date of the post, you have a child who will be five years old in a couple of months.

A child who has your smile, but his eyes, his nose, and a complexion that looks the perfect combination of the two of you. She looks like the perfect combination of the two of you.

It’s hard to not jump to the obviously glaring conclusion that all of this brings, and still, he tries to not allow his head to go there. You would….you would never do that. You would never keep his child from him, no matter how things ended between the two of you. There was wrongness to that that reached low levels of depravity, and he just couldn’t conjoin that kind of deception with who he always knew you to be.

You were a woman who believed and tried to live by her morals. It was the reason you eventually cut him out of your life. Nothing about not telling him he has a child is moral.

He wordlessly hands the phone back to Jimmy and goes back to reading the email, acting like nothing just happened and he doesn't have a million and one thoughts running through the back of his mind.

It’s after he walks away, giving off an excuse that he needs to call Hunter to discuss a proposed promo that the conversation commences.

“So, we all just gon act like that lil' girl don’t look like Uce? She even got his eyes, man,” Jimmy, being Jimmy, is the first to say it aloud, the only one to actually verbalize what the others are thinking.

“Jimmy,” Naomi chides but can’t help adding. “Do you really think that could be his kid?”

Jey decides to join in on the conversation. “It’s possible. They messed around for years.”

“But would she really do that? Have his baby and not even tell him about her?” Naomi only met you a handful of times, but all of the interactions were pleasant, and she secretly thought you and Joe would have made a cute couple if the stars were aligned differently. “She had to have told him.”

Jimmy gestures to the sliding door Joe walked through minutes earlier. “Does that look like he knew?”

“This is all just speculation.” Joseph decides to join the conversation, always the one who prefers to listen to all sides before adding his two cents. “Similiar facial features don’t mean they’re related.”

“No, but add in the timeline plus the way it ended, and you can’t help but lean one way.”

“What did happen between them?” Somewhat newer to this circle, Joseph realizes that’s a topic he’s never really heard much about. He knows his cousin basically has an open marriage and sleeps around, but he’s always heard whispers there was a woman he was with for years.

“She just ended it one day.” Jey answers with a shrug. “Uce really ain't say much outside of that. It was sudden though.”

“But was it? Three years of waiting around for a guy to maybe or maybe not leave his wife for you?” Naomi serves as a counter, shaking her head and leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand. “Sounds like more than enough time to me.”

“It wasn’t nothing like that though. They was just messing around,” Jimmy defends.

“He cut off every other woman he was messing with when they were together.” Jey distinctly remembers how his cousin had one woman and only one woman on speed dial during that period, and it was you. It was always you. “I think it was more than just messing around.”

Joseph nods, taking in all this information. “So, if she is his, do you think she kept her a secret to get back at him for not divorcing Jadah?” It’s a bold question, but a valid one that Jey is the first to dispute.

“Naw, I’m with Naomi. Y/N wouldn’t do that.”

Jimmy shakes his head, starting to see how this is all looking to play out. “Well, if that is Joe’s daughter and that’s how he found out he has a child….this shit is about to get real ugly.”

________

Joe tried to tell himself it was just a wild coincidence. Reminded himself that you yourself said you wanted to get married, have kids. And you’d done that, had a kid. However, revisiting your Instagram pictures, in none of your posts did he see a man.

Or a wedding ring.

And just how fucking quickly could you have moved on? Doing the math, you would have had to have someone on speed dial to get pregnant as fast as you did. And that doesn’t line up with who he knew you to be. You were fucking him and only him.

You were with him and only him.

So that left him and only him.

And like a man hyperfixated on trying to solve a puzzle, he looks at every single post on your Instagram, starting from the year you met up until now. He focuses especially on the posts that include your daughter, not that many, but enough.

And when it’s all said and done, thoughts vs counterthoughts, logic vs emotion, Joe is 100% convinced that this is his child.

That he’s just now found out he’s a father through fucking Instagram.

And now he’s pissed because who the hell were you to keep his child from him? He didn’t give a fuck how you felt about him and his being married, that didn’t give you an excuse to hide a whole kid?

His kid.

________

“Ready for your bedtime story, Callie Bear?”

Reading with Callie has been a must since you found out you were pregnant. Your mom always told you how she read to you in the womb and to this day believes it’s why you always tested out so high with your reading abilities, even in the first grade. You’re not sure how accurate it is, having read some studies and whatnot, but you’ve followed suit, reading to Callie even when she was in your belly. Almost five years later, it’s now a tradition. She can’t go to sleep without a story.

She nods happily. You laugh and slide into the bed next to her. Naturally, she cuddles close to you, book already picked out and waiting on the bed. It’s one she’s heard a dozen times before but one of her favorites, so you read it just as theatrically, voice changes, and everything. Her giggles of happiness and merriment warm your heart. You love these one-on-one moments, wishing you could jar them and keep them stored away forever.

You’re a couple chapters in when she starts to yawn, eyes struggling to stay open, that you slide in the bookmark and promise to pick it up again tomorrow. You know Callie is ready to call it a night when she doesn’t protest.

But, it’s after placing the book on the shelf and going to tuck her into her covers that she hits you with a question that nearly sends you into cardiac arrest.

“Mommy, why don’t I have a daddy?”

You’re not stupid, far from it. This question was bound to come up, sooner or later. For your own selfish sake though, you were hopeful for later, much much later.

She continues, almost nervous in tone. “Ms. Leah said you need a mommy and a daddy to make a baby, so where’s my daddy?”

Curious how the conversation of where babies came from came about, you make a mental note to discuss this with your daughter’s preschool teacher before working to answer her valid question. Truth be told, you have no idea how to answer it. But if anxiety was the dominant emotion before, sadness and devastation easily topple that at the next thing to come out of her mouth.

“Does he not love me?”

It’s not until that moment that you truly know what it feels like for your heart to shatter into absolute pieces.

“Oh, baby….” Crouching down beside her bed, you move your hand to her forehead, thumb gently caressing her soft skin. You’re so damn lost on how to handle this, what to say to take away her obvious pain, that you go with the soonest thing that hits the forefront of your brain. “Your daddy…..he….he wasn’t ready to be a daddy.”

It could be the truth, it could be a lie. You never gave yourself—or him—the chance to find out, and up until this point, you never saw an issue with that. But now….now you’re wondering just who you made that decision for.

And if it was the right one.

Callie’s frown deepens, the answer clearly not one that makes her feel any better. “What if I’m a really good girl? Will he be ready then?”

The shattered pieces are now dust, granulated dust that you struggle to hold together in trembling palms. You bring both hands to her face. “Calista, you listen to me. You are the kindest, sweetest, most amazing little girl in the whole wide world. You don’t need to do anything to be a good girl because you are already a good girl, the best girl.”

Her eyes glaze over as she sniffles and asks in a small voice. “So why doesn’t he want me?”

“Oh, sweetie…” You pull her into a hug, holding her close and tight, as if doing so will allow her to absorb all of the love and adoration you have for this tiny human who made your life have meaning. “I’m gonna talk to him, okay? I’ll….I’ll talk to him.” That’s all you can say, even if it’s not a guarantee, even if you have no idea where such an offer came from. And you hate yourself for doing that, for getting her hopes up over something that may not even happen. You haven’t spoken to Joe in almost five years, there’s no guarantee the number is even still the same.

Still, you know you have to at least try, especially when you pull back and see the renewed hope in her teary eyes, the eyes she shares with the father she’s clearly desperate to know about, to meet, to have.

You close your eyes and press your forehead against hers, speaking with all the love and affirmation in the world, “I love you, Calista. Always, baby.”

You’re relieved to hear her reply in a less saddened and more hopeful tone, “I love you too, mommy.”

It’s after you’re certain Callie is knocked out and you’ve exhausted every single step of your nighttime routine that you pace around your room, partially trying to avoid an action you know you need to take.

Especially when you find his number in your phone from an old text thread you could never find it in you to delete.

You go back and forth for nearly twenty minutes before deciding on a simple question.

is this still joe’s number?

You feel like a damn child, throwing the phone down on the bed and burying your face into your hands. This is so much more difficult than it needs to be, or maybe it isn’t. You made the executive decision to not make Joe aware of your pregnancy for a variety of reasons that felt solid at the time.

Now…now you don’t know any fucking thing anymore, it seems.

What you do know is that you nearly jump off the bed when your phone begins to ring. Frowning, you look at the time, wondering who in the hell could be calling you at damn near midnight.

But, it’s when you lift your phone to see the caller you know exactly why someone is calling you at damn near midnight.

Ignoring it is so tempting, but the image of Callie in tears wondering why she’s not loved or wanted is more than enough to trample your selfish desires. Sliding the green button upward, you place the phone against your ear, take a deep breath, and speak, “hi.”

He exhales, your name leaving his mouth for the first time in years. Hearing his voice, let alone hearing him say your name, creates a heaviness you weren’t expecting. Then again, you weren’t expecting to speak to him at all tonight.

Or ever, for that matter.

Communication is suddenly incredibly difficult as you struggle to string words together to create a cohesive statement. “I’m….I’m sorry for calling so late, but—”

“We need to talk.” While your tone is soft and nervous, his is serious and borderline stoic. It takes you for a bit of a loop, but you try not to put too much into it. The real focus should be why he interrupted you so harshly with such a bold statement. He’s not wrong, but why does he think you need to talk? “I’ll get a flight out tomorrow.”

That breaks you from your thoughts. A what? “wait—”

“You still at the same place?”

Swallowing, still very much confused, you answer, “yes, but—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

The phone goes silent on the other end, and you realize it’s because he’s ended the call. You must stare at that phone for a good five minutes in complete utter shock. Eventually, coming out of the catatonia, only one thought circulates around your mind.

What in the actual fuck just happened?

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns #black writers #roman reigns fic #arisnotebook

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seeingivy · 1 year ago

Text

fine line

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content warning: mentions of SA, addiction, bad workplace environments, shitty adults - protect your peace my babies

an: one I saved sparks for the next chapter so I don't like give someone a heart attack. and brace yourself pookies. this ended up at 16k. also, lmk if the format is confusing. but any memory that's embedded between dialogue is basically being shown in the video - it just makes more sense for me to write it as a visual

songs mentioned: ever since new york by harry styles, clean by taylor swift, all of the girls you loved before by taylor swift, and fine line by harry styles

previous part linked here

Tell me something, tell me something You don't know nothing, just pretend you do I need something, so tell me something new Choose your words 'cause there's no antidote For this curse Oh, what's it waiting for? Must this hurt you just before you go?

Eren lets the video play for a whole minute before he abruptly reaches for the remote from your hand and stops the film from playing. The song is burning in his ears - the clip of him blowing out the candles at his tenth birthday party searing his eyes - and the increasing, immense pressure that’s been building, ever since you came back to set, comes to a head in that second.

So much so, that he has to stop the video. Like fully, take the remote from your hands and pause the video. And when he realizes what he’s done, looking over to his side and finding your wide eyes staring at him, and he swallows the lump of shame that’s in his throat and makes his best attempts to back track.

He’s already messing this up. Royally.

“Right. I’m sorry, Y/N. Here.” he murmurs, placing the remote back in the space between the two of you, as he nervously interlocks his own fingers within each other.

Eren’s mind is in a hundred places right now. Granted, he’s always been one to be stuck where he shouldn’t be, but the regret is scorching deep through him now.

Maybe he should just tell you straight out. Or take you to Seattle now so that you could all talk about it in person. Or he could have asked Connie to stay, just so that he had some type of moral support instead of your big doe eyes waiting for answers, but-

“Are you okay, Eren?” you ask.

Eren looks over, mustering his best peachy smile, as he shakes his head.

“No. I’m fine! I just…had a muscle spasm…. You can play it, it’s just-”

You squint your eyes in response to his shitty defense, which Eren was expecting, because you were always acutely aware of how Eren was feeling. He was almost convinced that you could read his mind at times, that maybe some part of how he grew up left that part of him underdeveloped, that made him so soulless and unaware when it came to other people.

Or that really, some part of you still understood him in the way you always seemed to be able to. In a way that no one else really had. Because few could bear close to you - Lana and Connie, even Sukuna to some extent - but there was just something about you specifically that saw him exactly how he was.

That you always knew his intentions, that he almost never had to say them to you. He never had to explain that big mess that was going on in his head because you were always filling the gap and settling it down before he could even get it out. Like there was some secret language being spoken between the two of you every time you made eye contact.

He’d figure that this part of the two of you - he had all but demolished it the second he opened his mouth back in Seattle. But it remains whole and intact and is extremely bad for that flaring hopeful feeling that he gets when he’s around you again.

That the two of you could return back to what you were before, in some shape or form.

Eren sighs.

“I’m sorry. I just…got overwhelmed for a second. You can play the video. I-I promise I won’t pause it this time.”

Your eyes soften - and Eren’s heart twinges - as he musters a smile for you.

“Are you okay to be watching this with me? I can always watch it alone, Eren.”

“Yeah, I-”

“I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable…granted, I’m not sure exactly what it is that I’m watching, but if this…makes you anxious than I don’t want to force you to stomach it just for me.”

Eren’s heart twinges. That you’re still the same as he left you, so loving that it’s flowing out of you.

“It’s not just for you. Not that I’d be opposed to doing it but-”

Eren swallows hard.

“I should be here, Y/N.” he murmurs.

“Okay. Well-”

“And you’re watching a movie. A documentary feels like…the wrong word for it? But I guess that’s what it is?” Eren murmurs.

“A documentary?”

Eren swallows hard.

“Do you remember that interview you did? When you became a triple threat?” Eren asks.

You nod.

“This is like if I did the interview. Like songs, album, the whole thing. And if other people were involved. And-”

“Album? You made an album, Eren?” you ask, suddenly excited at the prospect of it.

Eren was never one to push too hard into music, since he felt that his talents clearly resided in acting. The few times that he had written something was because certain things, mainly you, had left him so inspired and your little rambligns and notes had rubbed off on him.

And when he missed you terribly, it seemed that the only thing that seemed to remedy it in some sense was writing songs about it. Granted, Lana almost kicked him out of her house for the sad piano he always seemed to be playing, which she claims wasn’t a good influence, but it made a good backtrack for the movie.

“Yeah, well. You’re quite the inspiration.” Eren respond.

You roll your eyes, lightly reaching over to shove his shoulder. Except he grabs your hand right before you can, his eyes fixed on his hand all but engulfing yours.

“I’m being serious. You-you’re the only reason that I wanted to do this. That I was able to.” Eren whispers.

You tilt your head to the side.

“You’ve always been like this. So…adamant on the side of talking about things. About not holding it in. I remember when you did the whole “The Man” thing with Historia you literally had me scared shitless. That people were going to put your head on a stick and start coming for you.”

“I remember. But they didn’t and-”

“And then you did the same thing with Lana. About Ricky - and you don’t even know the half of it when it comes to that guy. You’ve proven it to me time and time again. That maybe…talking things out is the best way to do it. And granted, I’ve taken so long to get to that point but I-”

“It’s okay. I just-”

“It’s not okay. I want you to know that I don’t think what I did was right in any way. I literally made the wrong decision at every turn, and hurt you because of it, and I’m so sorry that I did because you have to know that you mean-”

Eren freezes, as you wrestle your hand out of his, and place both of your hands firmly on his shoulders.

“Eren. Just…stop panic explaining. Let me listen first.” you murmur.

“I know. Sorry, you’re right, I just-”

“Don’t apologize. I’m sure this is nerve wracking in ways that I can’t understand.” you respond.

“You’ve always understood me.” Eren murmurs, immediately regretting it the second it leaves his mouth.

Eren watches as you smile at him, soft and all the way up to your eyes, as you let go and reach for the remote. You give him a nod as you unpause the video again to a clip of Eren.

At his tenth birthday, blowing out the candles, while he sings in the background.

Oh, tell me something I don't already know Oh, tell me something I don't already know Oh, tell me something I don't already know Oh, tell me something I don't already know

The video starts the last place you expect it. With Zeke sitting in front of the camera, hand knotted together in the same way you’ve seen Eren’s a hundred times, as he retells the story of the day his grandmother passed away when Eren was eleven and Zeke was seventeen.

After forty-five minutes, Eren has definitively decided that he hates hospital. The anti-septic smell seems to bite at his nose, the receptionist keeps eyeing them awkwardly over the top of her desk trying to pinpoint where it is that she knows him from, and his parents and Zeke are uncharacteristically silent.

Eren reaches for Zeke’s wrist, which Zeke welcomes with a smile, as they both nervously eye their parents at their side. Eren’s not entirely sure why - since to his understanding, his grandmother is still alive for right now - but his mom has been crying for a better half of the past day, while his dad holds down the fort and does his best efforts to keep it together. Eren appreciates the small smiles that he spares for the two of them every now and then, as they all sit quietly in the waiting room.

Zeke taps Eren on the shoulder, gesturing for him to follow him for a walk, which Eren is all but happy to oblige in, as the two of them quietly make their way down the ward.

“Where are we going?”

“Cookies. They have them out for New Year’s Day, Eren.” Zeke responds, looking down to give him a smile.

Eren frowns, forgetting that the start of the new year was so close, as they walk into the little aisle. The room is decorated with hanging lights, left over from Christmas, as the two of them sit on the chairs and split the hard, crumbly cookies between the two of them.

“Is grandma going to die or something?” Eren asks, swinging his legs off the tops of the tall chair as he leans back.

“I don’t know, Eren. Maybe.” Zeke responds, swallowing hard.

“Oh.”

“There’s no need to be sad about it before it happens. But Dad told me earlier, it would probably be today or tomorrow so…you should be aware of that.” Zeke states.

Eren frowns. And Zeke recoils, at his rather blunt way of telling Eren the harsh news.

“He didn’t tell me that.” Eren states.

“Well, you’re younger, Eren.” Zeke responds.

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t deserve to know.”

Zeke brings his hand down on Eren’s hair, ruffling with it as he looks out the window.

“That’s why I told you, kid.”

Eren sighs.

“Thanks.”

Zeke shakes his head, as he gestures for Eren to join him at looking outside. The hospital workers are taking down the tree outside, as the two of them rest their windows against the sill and watch the snow fall down.

“Can we have hot chocolate when we go home?” Eren asks.

“You’re old enough to make your own hot chocolate, Eren.” Zeke deadpans.

“But you just make it so much better. Plus, don’t you want to be a good older brother?” Eren asks, giving him his best peachy smile.

“I am a good older brother.”

“You know what would make you even better?”

Zeke rolls his eyes.

“Hot chocolate?”

Eren fakes a gasp.

“It’s like you’re reading my mind! That’s a great idea, Zeke.” Eren responds.

Zeke shoves Eren as the two of them laugh, reaching for another one of the hardened cookies on the platter. And that’s when they’re met with the flash of the camera and three paparazzi standing right behind them. Zeke turns around, entirely confused, as they shove the microphone into his face.

“Zeke. Are do you have any comments on the rumors that you’re a drug dealer?”

“The rumors that I’m what?” Zeke asks.

Eren looks up at Zeke, entirely floored by the question, as the bright lights shine in his face a few more times. Zeke’s standing in front of him, basically obscuring his line of vision, as he watches the confusion spread on Zeke’s face and the way his jaw is tightly held against his skull.

“A drug dealer. Through the funds in your back accounts?”

“That’s not what I used them for. I used them for-”

Eren watches Zeke’s face pale, as he grabs Eren’s hand tightly by the wrist and runs back into the waiting room where their parents are sitting. Except when they reach that spot, the doctor they’d seen hours prior is standing there with them, uttering the last words that Zeke could possibly want to hear at this moment.

“We’re so sorry for your loss but-”

And he’s cut off abruptly, by the paparazzi, who continue to flash more pictures as the Eren takes in the words, his parents crying demeanor, and understands in full that his grandmother is gone. And looks up at Zeke, unable to recognize his older brother for the first time. So meek, so awkward unlike he’s ever seen him.

The video cuts off of the pictures of the four of them - of their pink faces and teary eyes in that waiting room - and back to Zeke, as he continues to explain.

“That was the first time that the rumor had come to the surface, reached me in full. I later found out that there had been multiple reports of it for three days prior, that people had been speculating for days and days, and chose to finally ask me what I had thought when I was in the most headline worthy position. A few feet away from my dead grandmother. And my beloved little brother.” Zeke adds.

You feel Eren shift next you as the video switches, this time to Sukuna. You smile, not having seen him or heard of him in so long, sparing a good thought from the writhing in your chest at the previous story. The mere presence of him, of his voice, makes your chest rumble.

“My name is Ryomen Sukuna. And I met Scott Clarkson for the first time when I was fifteen.”

Sukuna tries his best to not be jealous of his brother. He’s always hated that sick, rotting feeling in his stomach, and he despises that it comes up so unexpectedly, something so negative towards someone who is so unwholly undeserving of it.

Sukuna always thought it was quite ironic that the two of them were siblings. They were such polar opposites - Yuuji being the picture-perfect, kind, intelligent person that he was. Being those things, so good, it just came so naturally to him that he made it look effortless.

Meanwhile, Sukuna wasn’t quite sure why he acted the way he did sometimes. Sukuna knew that he wasn’t a malicious or evil person, that deep down his intentions were always well meaning, but there was a small part of him that had always struggled with that part. He knew that he wasn’t a visicous dog, but he wasn’t sure why he bit.

It was just so hard for Sukuna. Being kind. Effortlessly kind, compassionate, and warm. He’d always say too much, be too loud, or too rude or impolite that it made it made him feel like some part of him was defective. That unbeknownst to other people, who just assumed that Sukuna was just like this, that he was hateful at heart, there was always a withstanding weight of guilt that he held with him wherever he went.

Until he saw an opening. At one of those god awful, stupid networking events that he was always forced to go to.

“Are you Ryomen Sukuna?”

He looks up to find an adult, mid-forties, looking down at him. He’s wearing a nice, pressed down suit as he joins Sukuna on the floor, where he’s been demolisihing the cookie he was given into a crumbled up, chocolate mess.

“Yes. Who are you?”

“My name is Scott Clarkson. I’m a producer for Stone Studios. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

Sukuna falls into silence, as he tries his best to awkwardly shuffle his mess to the side and be as professional as he could.

“You have a brother, correct?” Scott asks.

Sukuna sighs, knowing all too well what’s coming next.

“Yes, that’s right. He’s over there, standing with the tall, black-haired kid. Kinda sea urchin-y if you ask me.” Sukuna responds, pointing over to the two of them standing by the lemonade.

Scott shrugs, crossing his hands together in his lap.

“Tell me about his work ethic.” Scott asks.

“Well, he’s great. He’s basically the best person to be around - I mean he’s intelligent, smart, and talented. There’s a reason that he’s in almost every movie that you see. And on top of that, he’s extremely patient and kind too. You’d be lucky to work with him, if that’s what you’re considering.”

Scott looks over at him, eyes narrowed.

“That’s your mistake, kid.” Scott states, the look in his eyes cold.

“What do you mean?”

“You should be marketing yourself. Not your brother.” Scott asks.

Sukuna turns his head to the side, confused.

“What? But you asked?”

“That’s the thing. Even if someone asks about him, you should always divert the attention. To yourself. Granted, this is the reason that he’s the one who just starred in a movie while you’re waiting during the Jujutsu Kaisen hiatus.”

Sukuna frowns, an acidic feeling crawling down the length of his throat.

“Well-”

“I’m just saying, kid. You should learn to advocate for yourself. There’s nothing wrong with pushing a few people around, because that’s kind of what this industry requires. You’ve got guts and talent, more than you’re wish washy brother I’m sure of it. I mean, the whole good boy bad boy thing has worked well for you so far, but if you want any chops at a real career, with people like I’ve worked with, you’ll have to solidify on these types of things.” Scott states.

Sukuna looks straight across at the movie poster splayed on the wall. With “Institute Award Winning” and “Scott Clarkson” inscribed in it at the bottom.

“Granted, you’re just a kid. You need someone to give you this kind of advice, an adult who knows their way around the industry. If you ever need my help, you know who to call. I could give you any type of role. Even one as the lead, as the hero, if you ever wanted it.” Scott states, sliding a silver business card into his hands and shuffling off the floor to walk away.

The video cuts back to Sukuna, cracking his fingers as he talks - something you know well is a nervous tick of his.

“The conversation seems quite ironic in hindsight. Scott Clarkson was the first adult in my life, one of many, that didn’t have my best interests at mind. And is most surely the last person you should take advice from.” Sukuna states.

The video switches to Lana - and your heart clenches again, maybe even more than it did for Sukuna - at her long, brown hair and warm, pink cheeks smiling into the camera. You notice that she has a tattoo inscribed on her forearm now, a tiny little teddy bear just above the crease of her elbow, where you and Eren have your fish tattoos.

“I’ve dreamt about being in love since I was a little kid. There was a part of me, that yearned so hard, wanted it so bad, that I would do anything for it. Even convince myself it was real.”

Lana was convinced, for a fact, that because she had seen the worst of the worst, that she could only be subjected to the best of the best.

That she had been so acutely aware, known from such a young age, all the signs of a terrible marriage, a loveless relationship. That you should always thank each other for the small actions, make time to see each other at least once a day, and that a true, earnest relationship takes honest work. Real effort.

And she wasn’t exactly religious per say. But after the night had settled down, the screaming behind her door ceasing in full, she’d lift her head to the sky and whisper it into the air. Because if she put it out there, every night, and wanted it really badly, that it would happen. That manifestation or some higher power or some law of attraction - that saw that she had been through the bad so she deserved the good - would hear her out.

And when she was nineteen years old staring at the two little lines on the pregnancy stick, she realized that no such thing existed. That manifestation was made up, that the higher powers didn’t exist or they hated her, or that maybe she had done something really horrible, so malicious, that she had to be tortured in this life for what she had done in the previous.

Because, of course, she’s pregnant with the last person she’d ever want her kid to have as a father.

There’s an incessant pounding on the door, as she wipes the tears off of her face, and hides the stick in the bowl of the toilet.

“What the fuck is taking you so long, Lana?”

“Nothing, Ricky. I think I might have a stomach bug or something.” she responds, swinging the door open to his unamused face.

He looks up at her, almost sneering, before glancing at her up and down. He returns to aimlessly scrolling on his phone, before talking again.

“Well, you’re still well enough to go out tonight, right? Because I don’t want to go to the bar alone.”

Lana swallows hard, debating her options.

“Um, well-”

“Because I could easily take someone else.” Ricky states.

“No! I’ll come, it’s just that-”

“Perfect! You’re the best.” Ricky states, pressing a kiss to her cheek before padding out of the room.

The video switches again, this time to Connie, slightly blurry through the tears in your eyes. You only realize you were crying because Eren’s hands are quick to swipe the tears away and hold a tissue out for you at your side.. You’re not sure what caused it exactly - the thought of Ricky or of Lana so scared alone in that bathroom by herself - but Eren keeps his hand on your shoulder, grounding you into the moment to focus on what Connie was saying.

“When I was a kid, my mom used to kind of parrot the same stories about me as a kid to every person that she knew. I always used to make fun of her for it, claim that she harped on those four or five stories so hard because she couldn’t remember anything else substantial from my childhood, which was why she felt the need to always tell those embarrassing stories about me.”

Connie breaks a smile, it reaching all the way to the crinkles in his eyes, as he continues.

“But there’s one story that she told, that always used to make me a little bit happy. My heart a little warm, if you will. My mom always proudly recounted, with her hand placed over her heart, that I was the happiest baby. That my doctor had mentioned to her that it was very rare for him to see babies who smiled, so quick in their first day of life, but I had done it when he walked into the room. And since then, my mom has always lovingly called me her smiley boy.” Connie states.

Connie drops his smile, before swallowing hard.

“Which is how I know that I wholeheartedly broke her heart when she came to see me in rehab.”

At the one month mark of being there, Connie was slowly but surely acclimating to the life in the rehab ward. The set routine of the place, the small activities that they did in groups, were quickly starting to grow on Connie and the physical effects of his body fighting against him lessening more every day.

Today was a big achievement for him. He had finally made it through his first night of soundless sleep. And he was looking forward to today, which was Friday, meaning that Eren and possibly Lana would be visiting him. And they’d be so excited, so happy that it was working for him, that he wanted to tell him the second that he got there.

So when the clock hit two o’clock, he excitedly walked in the visiting room to find Eren sitting there, with his steaming bowl of ramen that Eren had promised he would bring him next time. Connie finally understood why you fell in love with him all of those years ago. He’d marry Eren too if it meant he would cook for him all the time.

“Hey Connie.” Eren states, sliding the bowl over to him.

“Eren Bear-en. Where’s Lana?” he asks.

“Right. She’s here. In the waiting room.” Eren states.

“What the hell is she doing out there? Laying eggs?” Connie asks, splitting the chopsticks in his hand as he opens up the bowl.

“Yes, actually. The kitchen came by and told her they were short.”

“Don’t even joke about that because those bitches are crazy. I asked for an extra Jello and from the looks they gave me you’d think I was asking to be their…sperm donor or something.”

Eren snickers, before getting an intense look from the guards on the wall for disrupting the silence, and looking back at Connie.

“No. No, she’s actually keeping your mom some company.”

Connie pales.

“My mom is here?” he states, his voice grating in his throat.

“Yeah, Connie. She doesn’t want to push and-and- she’s more than willing to go home if you’re not ready to see her yet, man. She just really insisted and she means so well that we just brought her along.” Eren states.

“Have you been talking to her?” Connie asks.

“Oh, yeah. She called us almost two days after you got here. We let her know what was happening and she comes by the house a lot. She asks about you the second we get back.” Eren responds.

“Really?” Connie asks, warm tears filling his eyes. Of agonizing, burning regret.

“Really. She’s been waiting till you seemed better, that you were ready to see her. And you don’t have to worry that she’s judging you or upset with you, man. She feels the same as Lana and I do, you- she shouldn’t be a reason for your stress. Or guilt.” Eren adds, emphasizing it as hard as he can so as to convince Connie to at least let her through.

Connie pauses, the thoughts swimming to his mind. The overwhelming regret, that his mom has suffered all the way to meet him here, that she was ready to be at his side, the same way Eren and Lana had. He’s almost grateful that she hadn’t seen him at the worst of it - that he hadn’t shouted choice words at her like he had at Eren and Lana and you - but the embarrassment of having to recount all of that to her was daunting.

But the thought of seeing her again, hearing that she was out there waiting with that heathen Lana, warmed that deep seated love for her in his stomach. That was yearning to see her, to tell her what had happened to him too.

The latter feeling beat out the former one. Which is why he let Eren bring her in with Lana, as she took a cautious seat at his side and Lana slid into the one next to Eren.

“Hi Connie Bear!” Lana states, reaching over to squeeze his hands.

“Hi Lana Bear.” he respond, lifting his hand to do his little hand shake with Lana, which always earns him an eye roll from Eren.

“Bear?” Connie’s mom asks, tilting her head to the side.

“Ah. It’s just a little joke that we have. Eren Bear-en started it.” Connie states, giving him mom a smirk.

His mom smiles, looping her arm through Connie’s, as she lightly laughs into the quiet air.

“Funny. So what would I be?”

“Mama Bear. Obviously.” Connie states.

She pauses, pressing her hand to Connie’s shoulder.

“How are you, Connie? Really?”

Connie smiles, leaning forward on the table and nervously fidgeting with his fingers.

“I have some good news actually. For all of you.” Connie responds.

“What’s that?” Eren asks.

“I know that it doesn’t seem like a big deal and all and that people do it all the time but…today was the first night that I slept all the way through without waking up in the past month. In the past year actually.”

Lana and Eren’s eyes immediately light up, which has Connie smiling, as the two of them run over to the side of his table and wrap his arms around him. His mom’s looped into his side, the three of them crushing him in the warmest, softest hug known to man.

“Connie! We’re- fuck. I’m literally crying. I’m so happy for you, kid.” Lana states, reaching forward to pinch the softness on his cheek.

“Okay, you sap. It’s not all that.” Connie responds.

“No but it literally is, Connie. This is huge.” Eren responds, squeezing his shoulder hard.

Connie turns to his mom noticing that she’s been trying her best efforts to quiet her sobs. Connie places a hand on her shoulder, burning with regret, at her downtrodden face.

“Mom?”

“Oh, Connie. My sweet, smiley boy. I’m so happy for you.”

It’s enough to break his resolve, one that he’s been keeping together since he realized that he had all but gone through Jean and Mikasa’s engagement high. And cries straight into her arms, with Lana and Eren across from him, lightly tapping his feet under the table in support.

The video switches, this time to Eren, as you prepare yourself for whatever you’re about to hear next. Because if the previous four were gut punches, you know for a fact that whatever Eren is about to say is going to ruin you.

“Being in love is a privilege.”

You take a sharp inhale.

“There’s something so strange about it, when you think about it. That there can be two people, who share those feelings at the same time. That they overcame something, deeper than rejection or fear, because the feelings were so big, they were so great, that they just had to. And that the person, they really and truly reciprocated it.”

Eren smiles, so wide that his dimples are showing.

“It’s a privilege to be in love. But it’s an even bigger one to be in love, to be loved, by someone like Y/N L/N.”

Eren and Jean, with their ears all but pressed to the door, hear the three knocks and wrestle over each other to open the door. You’re standing there, sheepish and meek as you look down the hall, and Eren reaches for your bag on the floor. Jean gives the two of you a salute, which you laugh at, and which consequently has Eren smacking his hand over your mouth for, as the two of you quickly switch spots.

WIth Jean in your room and you in his. Eren quickly shuts the door, setting your stuff down, as you two give each other excited smiles.

“That was super sneaky, Eren. Like Bond level.”

Eren rolls his eyes.

“Right. The two feet in between our doors was so treacherous.”

You smack his shoulder.

“Okay, bitch. You know nothing of my perilous travels. The floorboard creaked. I could hear Levi rustling in his sheets, I swear to god.”

Eren drags your stuff into the room, as he places your bag on the bed.

“What do you have in here? Your entire closet? Why is this so heavy?”

“Well, I had to bring my night time skincare. And my morning skincare. And sometimes I get snacky at night…and my blanket obviously. And my shampoos. Those are non-negoitable.” you respond.

“Well we can’t have you getting split ends now!” Eren responds, sarcastically.

“Don’t even sass me right now because I could go bald without that shampoo.”

“And I have a blanket.”

You scoff.

“I don’t want your cooties, stinky.”

“I don’t have cooties. And mind you, you have to kiss me in a few weeks. My cooties are going to be all up in your face, Y/N.” Eren responds.

“That sounds gross, Eren. Like you’re purposely infecting me with your disease.”

“I’m not infecting you with anything! I don’t even have cooties, you idiot!”

You feign hurt, frowning at him, as you fight the urge to laugh and muster the most important performance of your life yet.

“Eren?” you whisper.

“What?” he asks, confused.

“Do you really think I’m an idiot?” you murmur.

You watch Eren’s eyes go wide, almost frazzled, as he reaches forward and cups the side of your cheek, the look in his eyes so painful that you immediately feel bad.

“Y/N. Of course, I don’t think you’re an idiot. You’re like…the smartest person I know. Really.”

“Eren-”

“I’m so sorry I said that. I was just kidding, but that was a really stupid joke to make. I haven’t and won’t ever think that about you. Or say it again. You’re so-”

“Eren.”

“And I swear, I’m not going to say anything like that ever again. I know how shitty it can be, especially coming from a guy, and you’re working so hard to be here, more than anyone else, even though your basically the best one and-”

“Eren, oh my gosh, you’re so sweet. I was just kidding, I didn’t mean to make you so upset.” you respond, frowning at him as he looks at you, shoulders relaxing under his touch.

His cheeks are dusted a warm pink, the color trickling down the length of his neck.

“Oh. Wait, really?”

“I was just trying to see what you would say. I wasn’t expecting that and now I feel really, really bad. I’m sorry, Eren.”

Eren sighs, laughing as he reaches forward to pinch your cheek.

“You’re evil, you know that?”

“I didn’t mean it!” you whine, covering your eyes in embarrassment.

“You put that stupid little cute frown on your face and make those sad eyes at me and just expect me to keep fighting with you?”

“Well, yeah! Jean and Connie would fight with me for the rest of their life if they could.”

Eren reaches forward, pinching your cheek once more.

“That’s your mistake.”

“What is?”

“Thinking that you and I are the same as you and Connie. Or you and Jean.”

You feel your cheeks burn, as you nod, reaching for your bag and heading straight into the bathroom to arrange everything on the counter. You start your nightly routine, braiding your hair and placing the little foam headband in your hair as you start to massage all the cleansers and serums into your skin.

Eren pads in after a few minutes, reaching for his toothbrush, as the two of you move around each other in silence. Eren can’t help but watch you in the mirror - with all your little bottles and sweet smelling lotions, so focused as you go about it - that he can’t help but think that he could watch you forever.

“Eren?”

Eren immediately breaks out of his almost trance, spitting into the sink.

“Yeah?”

“You should wear this while you brush your teeth. It’ll keep your hair out of the way.” you respond, handing him a little blue foam headband just like your pink one.

“Huh?”

“Well, your hairs getting kind of long. And Levi told me that he actually wants it even longer for next season a few months ago, so I ordered you one too when I got mine. I keep forgetting to give it to you.” you respond, placing it front of him.

Eren lifts it in his hands, utterly touched at the fact that you had thought of him.

“You- you got this for me?”

“Well, yeah. I kept getting my bangs wet whenever I washed my face. And you basically look like a shaggy dog with that hair so I knew for a fact that you’d need one too. I’m basically the best friend ever if you think about it.” you respond, giving him a peachy smiile.

“You are.”

The video cuts back to Eren, a soft smile on his face as he talks.

“People will take advantage of anything, in the name of business. It’s an easy way in once you find out how to manipulate someone, to make them do things that they would never do normally, to get the exact image that you want. The one that makes headlines, stirs up controversy, to get you trending.”

“You find out that things function very specifically when you work at Stone Studios. And that Scott Clarkson, and his associates, make money from every aspect of the production. He makes money from the movies that he produces and more importantly, from the tabloid company that he owns.” Sukuna starts.

Sukuna sighs, as the pictures flash on the screen.

“Certain things are…manufactured or at least the people doing them are coerced into doing things that are lucrative. Like doctoring drama around certain movies, so that by the time the movie comes out, the drama surrounding it will drive everyone to watch it. Around relationships - because rumors regarding ex-boyfriends and problems between friends create headlines that everyone will click.”

Sukuna’s furious. And when Hyla walks in the room - the three weeks he’s been holding onto his anger - come to a head.

“Who did you tell?” Sukuna asks.

She looks up at him, eyes wide in confusion, as she slouches straight into the bed and continues to scroll on her phone. He joins at her side, reaching for her phone and putting it to the side.

“I’m being serious. Who did you tell?” he asks.

She looks up at him, her expression bordering between bored and oblivious.

“Who did I tell about what?”

Sukuna sighs. Because deep down, that deep rot of feeling betrayed has been gnawing at his stomach for the past few hours. And he wants everything in him, every part of him to believe that the conversation that he had a few days ago - the first real one he’d had in a while - wasn’t just spread all over every magazine he walked past on the way home.

“The conversation we had. About…”

She rolls her eyes, sitting up as she crossed her legs.

“About what? We talk about a lot of things.” she murmurs.

“Yuuji…” he responds.

“Oh! About how you hate him?” she asks.

Sukuan sighs, frustrationg growing up at the premise. At the callousness in her statement. Because not only did she put up a front in the conversation they had - about how guilty Sukuna felt about harboring some negative feelings towards Yuuji since they were always in constant competition - but she was surely the one who must have whispered the story to someone who had given it to a tabloid.

“I don’t hate him, Hyla.”

“No, no I get it. You’re like jealous of him and stuff because he gets all these versatile roles and you basically keep getting the same asshole role. But that’s not your fault, it’s just how it goes.” she responds, shrugging.

He clenches his jaw.

“I get that. I just don’t get why you had to tell someone else.”

“Well, I just told my dad. And you know how he is. If there’s something that’s going to be good for the business, he’s always been the kind of guy to go for it and do what needs to be done.”

“What the hell is so lucrative about my relationship with my brother? We’re filming a fucking movie.”

She sighs, cracking her knucles before she turns to him.

“Okay, fine. I’ll tell you a secret, but only if you promise to stop being mad at me.”

“Well, I’m not just going to stop being mad at you. I’ve never told anyone that. Let alone my own brother, whose probably finding out about it from a fucking tabloid right now. I’ve never been one - nor am I ever going to be - someone who steps on their own family members to make it in this fucking business.” he states.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Family is everything to you and I get that.”

He sighs, sliding open his phone to the five unread messages from Yuuji on his screen. There a set of pictures of him in front of the headlines at the store and he’s quite literally laughing at the fact that someone could even come up with something so stupid about him.

Because despite it all, Yuuji is exactly what Sukuna says he is. He is the better brother - by tenfold - because he sees the rumors and doesn’t even believe them the second he reads them. Even through they’re true.

“See. He’s such a good guy, he’s not even mad! No harm done!” Hyla states, smiling to herself.

Sukuna leans back against the headboard, fully bothered, so much so that it makes his skin itch, by Yuuji’s texts as he halfheartedly murmurs.

“What were you going to say? Earlier?”

“Oh. Well don’t tell anyone. Especially not the girls okay, because they’d basically kill me. But you know WBS? The tabloid company?” she asks.

“Yeah…”

“My dad owns it. That was actually his original venture. He started it with these two music producers - Danny and Sareen - they work with that Y/N girl from Attack on Titan actually. And sometimes they just kind of….fabricate stuff for news. Whatever sells right?”

Sukuna swallows that bitter, acidic feeling in his throat. That his feelings about his brother, that he shared in confidence, were good enough for the headline.

Good enough to be sold out.

The camera switches back to Sukuna, sitting in the chair.

“I feel kind of stupid in hindsight. For actually liking her, I guess. For believing that any of them were real, earnest people. I’m embarrassed that I stayed for so long, on the premise that I was fighting for something real.” Sukuan states.

“What made you leave?” the producer asks.

“The last shred of self-preservationist instinct I had. I was put into a situation, multiple times, where I felt unsafe. And when it went too far, I decided that I had enough. And that I was going to go out with a bang if I had to. If they want a headline, I’ll damn well give them one.” Sukuna states, smirking.

“You felt unsafe?” the producer clarifies.

“Look. I don’t need to rehash the details out of what happened. I’m sure that you could even find videos of it if you wanted to. But Scott Clarkson, he’s very quick to forget the fact that he’s working with children. I may play adults in my films, but I was very much still a child.”

You pale, the implication entirely clear. You look over at Eren, whose eyes are fixed towards the floor, as you wipe the tears from your eyes, as the video switches back to Eren and Lana who are seated at the table.

“When Levi and Hange ventured out on their own and decided to produce their own show, they ruffled lots of feathers. That’s something I overheard on set quite often before Eren ever started on the show. They were mad, essentially, that they had circumvented the whole producing aspect of it, choosing to be in control of every aspect of the production. And honestly, that they were successful with it.”

“Levi and Hange basically set a standard, especially for other people who were at their class the SWHA cohort. Jujutsu Kaisen basically followed suit short after - with almost all of the people in our class being funneled into either of those two shows. Which was aggravating, because it basically means that people who own the companies, like Scott Clarkson, don’t get their upcoming crop of stars to handpick form.” Eren states.

“Unfortunately for us, that didn’t really quite stop them. It started out with a simple fact - that Scott Clarkson knew for a fact that Eren would refuse to work with him.” Lana states.

“The first time I met Scott Clarkson he had rubbed me the wrong way. Because he refused to acknowledge that Y/N was standing right at my side.” Eren responds.

Eren was painfully aware of the fact of how uncomfortable you were. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was - maybe the fact that you had never been here before or that you didn’t quite know anyone like he did from growing up with them - but he figured that it would be a better idea for the two of you to go outside.

But before he could, a man stops him, tapping him on the shoulder to talk to him. You both stop in your tracks, half turning around, to look at him. He’s extremely tall, looming over the two of you, and Eren can feel you shrink at his side. He looks at Eren, a self-assured smile pressed on his face as he introduces himself.

“Scott Clarkson. I’m a producer for Stone Studios.”

“I’m Eren Jaeger. This is-”

“I know who you are, Eren. I was invited to see one of the first cuts of the latest movie you just filmed and-”

Before he can even understand what’s happening, he has his hand on Eren’s shoulder and they’re walking down the length of the hall, the end of their conversation lost to you. Eren looks back and you give him a halfhearted smile as he tries to turn back, before getting stuck in a larger group of people.

“Do you have any projects lined up for your Attack on Titan hiatus?” Scott asks.

“Yeah. Sukuna and I are filming the next Conjuring movie. Though if you’re looking for someone, my friend Y/N-”

“No need. We’re here to talk about you.”

Eren rolls his eyes.

“I already have a roll. And she doesn’t. And you know how big she’s going to be - she can even sing!” Eren states.

Scott sighs.

“There’s a reason that I’m standing here talking to you. I’m well seasoned in these type of things - just like your parents. I promise you, with a breakout show like that, only one person can come out as the star. Don’t you want to make sure that it’s going to be you?”

“Levi and Hange made it out together. I don’t know why we couldn’t do the same.” Eren responds.

Luckily enough for him, his parents had arrived just at that moment and given him his much needed chance to run away.

“I wasn’t going to sell out that fast. Especially for someone who was so quick to bad mouth my best friend, who was basically the only person that I got to consistently talk to and be with at the time, I….”

“Eren’s very loyal. Let’s just leave it at that. And it’s precisely just because of that loyalty, especially to Hange and Levi who had thrown a wrench in every one of his profits, that they wanted Eren specifically. He has every makings of one of his stars. He has famous parents, an estranged brother, and a girl that can be thrown at the end of every headline.” Lana adds.

Eren sighs.

“The Attack on Titan hiatus was the perfect chance for them to get what they wanted. On one side, Danny and Sareen were building Y/N up. They were pushing her into making albums, way faster than she should have been by the way, adding more and more accolades to her name. And on the other side, they were dragging me into the mud. Purposely switching my movies at the last minute to make sure I was on the shitty one, making award show annoucers make crappy jokes about me so I’d feel like shit.” Eren responds.

The video switches to the last award show that you and Eren had technically attended together. The one where you announced that you were coming out with your second studio album and where you had won Actress in a Lead Role. Except, the video isn’t how you remembered it. Or that this time, you’re actually aware of what had been going on in Eren’s head.

“Here we have an international pop-star, Y/N L/N. Originally a small town girl from Canada, her soft spoken love songs, phenomenal acting, and insane dance act have left no heart untouched.” the announcer states.

Eren looks over at you in the video, his eyes so warm and his smile so wide, as he looks at you proudly.

“And you. What’s your name again? It’s sweet they let fans sit with stars now.” the headliner asks him, eliciting a large amount of laughter from the crowd as he walks on.

That’s when you see it. That Eren’s face immediately dropped and was washed over in shame. And that he got up and walked away.

And more importantly, that you hadn’t followed.

“I later found out that joke was very deliberate. That announcer was told to make that joke about me because they were almost positive that I would leave. And when Y/N won the award - and I was moping in one of the lounges about how much of a failure I was, how she was going to leave me for someone better - Scott Clarkson approached me. In the same way that he had approached Sukuna. Promising me that he could make me a star. That I could meet Y/N where she was and be next to her too.” Eren states.

“It was pretty easy to guess how the rest went. Y/N and Eren being in a relationship wasn’t exactly headline worthy, when they had been basically attached at the hip for years. But you know what was? The two of them breaking up.”

“I obviously can’t speak for Y/N. I don’t know what was going through her head at that point. But from what she made it seem like….Danny and Sareen had asked her to do it. I know that they had asked her to write songs like London Boy and most of the songs on her album for that precise reason, it….doesn’t seem far off.” Eren states.

“It seems stupid in hindsight. To take someone’s advice at the surface level like that and so blindly believe in them. But when you think of the examples that Eren and Y/N really had, people like Levi and Hange who wanted nothing but the best for them, who basically loved them like they were a second set of parents, it’s hard to believe that everyone around you doesn’t really have your best interest in mind. That and the fact that they were fucking nineteen.” Lana adds.

“And that’s when we get to the Girlfriend incident. And more importantly, the day that Lana and I became friends.” Eren states, looking over to smile at her.

Eren had locked the door, and pushed everyone out of the room the second they had stopped watching that stupid music video hours ago. And after the fact, he’s watched it three more times - you and Ricky dancing through the street and smiling at each other - while all he can do is drown in his despair.

That is until he hears a soft sniffling in the hallway behind him and a hushed voice talking on the phone in the doorway. He presses his ear the door, the voice loud, as he catches the ends of the conversation, recognizing that it was Lana.

“Can you just stay with him for a few more hours, please? I don’t think that I can leave.”

“Please. I want to come home really badly too, but they’re already so upset with me after what I said last night that I just-”

“Thank you so much. I really love you, you know that?”

The phone call ends abruptly and Eren, letting his curiosity get the best of them, opens the door to find Lana sitting flat against the wall, with her head in her hands. He can tell that she must have been crying for a better part of the last hour, her hair all unruly and tangled in a way that he had never really seen it before.

Eren shuffles into the spot next to her, against the wall, as he wipes his own red eyes.

“Are you okay?” Eren asks.

“Why? Trying to rub it in my face?” Lana asks, rather miserably.

“No. I just…heard you on the phone.” Eren asks.

Her eyes go wide, as she looks over at him rather frantically.

“What did you hear?” she asks.

“I mean, basically nothing.” Eren murmurs.

The two of them sit there awkwardly, unsure of what to say to the other. That’s until Lana turns to him, a determined look on her face as she talks.

“Are you trying to make me feel shitty because I did it to you?” Lana asks.

“No. I’m not you, Lana.” Eren deadpans.

“I didn’t mean-

“Didn’t mean what? To make me look like a dumbass on stage? Just tell me what the hell is wrong if you’re going to talk so loudly outside of my door.” Eren mutters, irritated.

“Okay. We’re going to play a game, alright? Let’s pretend we’re different people.” Lana states.

“What?”

“I want to talk about something and I’m sure you do too, but it’s weird to do it like this. So we’ll pretend. I’m going to be La-La and you’re going to be Po.” she states.

“Like the Telletubbies….?”

“Yeah. Does that work? You can’t say anything to anyone, because….well that would just be fucking rude.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, Po. The thing is, I feel really bad. I did this really shitty thing to this guy who seems really nice and all. Except, I was standing on stage and they kind of asked me to do it right then and there so I kind of just went with it.”

Oh. Eren gets it. This is her weird way of apologizing.

“Well, why did she do it in the first place?”

She scoffs.

“You’re so nosy, bitch.”

Eren laughs, which has her relaxing her shoulders, before she talks again.

“Eren. Please don’t tell anyone, okay? This is really serious.”

Eren breaks, the seriousness in her demeanour stoppign him.

“I promise. What is it?”

She sighs, holding out a picture to him on her phone. It’s a picture of her and a little boy, with short, curly brown hair.

“This is my son. His name is Theodore, but…I call him Teddy. Like…Teddy Bear? And I feel so shitty, Eren but…they kind of hold him against me sometimes when it comes to things like this. So when they ask me to do things, I just do them.” Lana states.

“They hold you against him?”

“I mean….I try really hard to protect his privacy, Eren. He’s just a kid. I mean, he’s barely even two years old right now. And I know your parents, I’m sure you know that growing up in the spotlight isn’t the best place to be.”

Eren frowns, looking down at the picture. He’s never really quite thought it before, but he thinks that Lana is really pretty. Or more appropriately, that Lana looks very pretty when she smiles. And that he’s never seen her smile like this before.

“I get that. So what do they do? Threaten to tell?” Eren asks.

“I mean, they usually find out where I’m keeping him. I tend to keep him moving from different houses, with security in all that, to make sure that he’s safe from that type of thing. And-”

“Does he stay with his dad?” Eren asks.

Lana sighs, resting her chin against her knees.

“Eren. Ricky isn’t good news. And your little girlfriend or friend or whatever…she’s in really risky territory right now.” she states.

“What do you mean?” Eren asks.

She almost flinches, withholding of what it is exactly that’s on the tip of her tongue.

“Eren. He’s just not a good guy. You should make sure that someone is with her, that she’s not ever alone with him. Just take my word for it. There’s a reason my son doesn’t get to see him, why I avoid him like the plague.” she states.

Eren can see the tears filling in her eyes - and makes a mental note to drop the topic and relay the information to Connie or Jean later.

“I’m not going to tell anyone, Lana.”

“I know. That’s why I feel even worse. I’m really sorry for what I did, Eren.”

“That’s okay. Let’s just make a deal.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ll help and you’ll help me. Pacts between Tellytubbies are really sacred.” Eren states, feigning seriousness.

“You’re stupid.”

“And you’re annoying.” he responds.

Lana laughs, teary eyed, as she reaches forward and shakes on it.

“I only became really aware of the problem after Lana had pointed it out to me. And became even more frustrated with them, with all of them, when I had realized what they had been saying to her. Making comments about her body to her, despite the fact that she had literally given birth, and incessantly teasing her about her son, who is basically my favorite person in the world, by the way. That they would purposely put alcohol in her drinks, when she couldn’t drink at the time.”

The clips cut, this time to Eren and Lana, in a different mix of videos of playing with Teddy. You recongize him straight on, as the kid that you had met with Eren before the two of you had talked on the beach, and feel your heart burn at the fact that you had met Lana’s son and not known it. That Lana and Eren had to fight to make sure that he was safe, that she was doing anything for him.

“Eren and I basically had an arrangement. We both had houses off of set in Seattle, that we should shuffle him between, along with my brother Landon. There was someone with Teddy at all times, and at that age, he wasn’t really old enough to question the fact. His mom was always there to put him to bed at night, and sometimes his best friend Eren was there to do it too, so it didn’t mean too much to him.”

Eren sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It all started going downhill the week that I got hurt. Because, of course, that’s when Connie arrived on set.”

Lana wasn’t really paying attention when it had happened. Her nose was stuck in her own script, headphones over her ears, as she practiced the next scene she was going to be in.

When she looked up, three minutes after the fact, that’s when she saw it. That Eren was tangled with the cords that were suspending him in the air and that he was hanging unconscious upside down.

“What the hell are you doing? Take him down from there.” Lana states, incessantly shaking at Scott’s shoulder as he watched Eren in the viewfinder.

“What the hell are you talking about, Price?”

“He’s not fucking breathing. What the hell are you talking about?”

“He’s acting. Did you not read your script before you got here?” he asks, annoyed as he gestures for the crew around him to continue.

Lana looks up, every gut feeling of hers screaming in her stomach, as she runs on to the set, climbing on to the makeshift ladder and reaching for Eren stuck between the strings.

“Eren. Eren, wake up.”

Except he doesn’t budge in his arms, instead swinging back and forth from the way he’s precariously hanging on the strings. She presses her fingers to his neck, his pulse slightly weak under her fingers, as she can feel the tears burning in her eyes.

“What the hell is wrong with you guys? Why can’t you just give him a break? He’s been going at it for like four hours.”

“Price. You’re ruining the shot.” Scott states, rather irritated.

“Take him down. Now.”

Scott rolls his eyes, walking over to the switchbox at his side. He reaches for the lever, placing his hand on the stick, as he all but glares at Lana.

“You want it that bad? Here.”

And he pushes the lever all the way down, sending Eren straight to the ground on his head. Lana can feel the panic rushing through her as she basically tumbles down, turning Eren’s head over in her hands, and being met with red, warm blood on her hands. She gives a weary eye to the crew, who phone the ambulance, as she follows in her own car.

“I think that was the first time that I realize that really, truly - these people don’t care about anything but getting the shot. I get that Eren was supposed to look like he was dead in that scene, but tiring him out to get the perfect shot was far from what he needed to do.”

“I sustained a concussion that left me in the hospital for a week. And I had three long lacerations down the length of my back from the harnesses that we were using, that basically sliced it on impact. That I still have scars from by the way.” Eren states.

You reach for Eren’s hand, squeezing hard on his wrist, as the video continues.

“When we finally made it back to set, Connie was there. And it’s not that I don’t love Connie, that I wouldn’t have loved to see him there, but I already knew that it wasn’t going to go well.” Eren states.

Eren sighs.

“I know, logically, that you can’t really blame these things on people. That Connie wasn’t my responsibility and that addiction is a real, physical disease that he had to battle against. But I just can’t help but feel like I could have stopped him if I was there.” Eren states.

“When I got to set, everyone around me hyped me up over the same basic thing. That Eren was out of commission, for reasons that they wouldn’t exactly tell me, and that I should take his spot as the lead. It was only a few days into shooting and that it would be an easy switch if I had just asked Scott if I could take his role.” Connie states.

Connie sighs.

“It was a simple thing that they were telling me. That Eren - he had gotten to be the lead role, hundreds of times over. That Levi had picked Eren out of everyone as the best, that he was extra hard on him because he knew that he could make a star. And that really, I had never gotten the same kind of exposure that Eren had, the type that comes from being a lead.” Connie states.

The video cuts - to videos of Connie and Eren filming on the set of Attack on Titan - the two of them playing pranks on Erwin and Hange together, running around each other between scenes, and laughing at Historia and Ymir walking past.

“Eren is one of my best friends. I would never want to side swipe him like that, so I decided that I was going to ask Eren for the role. And I was really self-assured that Eren would give it to me. Because he’s always been giving in that sense, he always had been with Armin and Y/N, and he would for me too.” Connie states.

“Just to clarify, the reason that I didn’t let Connie take the role at that point was because I had quite literally sustained a concussion from doing it. I was never going to let him step into that - no matter how hard he begged me to.” Eren responds.

“And so I got really hurt by it. And then everyone around me, they kept whispering it in my ear. That Eren couldn’t handle anyone but him being the star. That Eren thought I had no business being there, that I wasn’t made to be in a lead role. And for some reason, I don’t know fucking why, I thought that they were being honest with me. That they were being earnest. They kept bringing up the Girlfriend incident, that Eren was so quick to drag Y/N down the first chance he got, and that he would do the same to me too. I had so much trust in these people that I would do anything to stay friends with them. Because they were real. And unfortunately for me, I did. And one of the shittiest things I ever did was fight with Eren because of it.” Connie stated.

Eren found out, three months after the fact, that Connie had been doing drugs. He had his suspicions, since Connie had been spending so much time around Myka, and acting so weird and skittish around him that something had to be up.

So after he dropped Teddy off to Landon’s and head back to set with Lana, the two of them were prepared to talk to him about whatever it was, to clear the air. Except when they got there and knocked on Connie’s door, they found him lying face down on the desk, fast asleep with a small mound of white powder and a small trickle of blood down his nose.

“Connie. Connie, wake up.” Eren states, rigidly shaking his entire frame.

“Oh my gosh. Oh my god, Eren what do we do?” Lana states, her hands on his shoulder as he hears her sniffling in his ear.

“Connie. Dude, you have to wake up now. Come on.” Eren states.

Connie lightly shuffles in his sleep, as Eren backs up out of the way, with Lana behind him. Connie wakes up, half there, as his eyes focus in on Eren and he pales. That Connie’s giving him the most agitated, mean look that he’s ever gotten in his life. That he’s ever seen Connie sport in his life.

“Connie. Hey, you-”

“What do you want, Eren?” he asks.

“We were just worried about you, dude. We haven’t talked in so long, and that’s our fault, but-”

“I’m not good enough for you, right? You’re too big of a star to be friends with someone as low on the food chain as me right?” Connie responds, seething.

Eren frowns.

“Connie, hey man. What are you talking about? We’ve been like family since we were little. Why would I-”

“Why didn’t you give me the lead role? Why the fuck are you and Lana always sneaking around behind my fucking back? Don’t play the family card in my face when you’re the one who fucking abandoned me, Eren.”

“Connie. I’m really sorry that I-”

That’s when Connie lifts his hand, jolting it straight across Eren’s face. He can feel the immediate, immense pressure on his nose, the bright red shooting out of his nostrils as he looks back up at Connie.

“Connie. We can’t-”

“We can’t what? You won’t fight me?”

“No, Connie. I’m not going to fight you.” Eren states.

“Why not? You’re still too good for me, aren’t you? You’re too good for Y/N, too good for me, too good for anyone who fucking got you there.” Connie states, swinging again.

Connie’s movements are loose, uncoordinated, which is when Eren reaches for his arm, just to pin him to the ground underheath him. There’s a sweltering guilt when he does it, holds Connie down, and it only increases in magnitude when Connie cries underneath him, cursing his name.

“Two weeks after my fight with Connie, my worst possible outcome occurred. That I have friends, who love me more than anything, and wanted to surprise me for my birthday. Y/N and Armin came to Seattle. And Y/N….she wanted to tell me that she still loved me.” Eren states.

“That was the worst possible time that they could have shown up. Because they were this close to leaking my secret, basically telling me that it was any day now that it was going to happen, after finding out that Eren and I were planning on breaking our contracts, just to be out of the situation for good. We had even reached out to Levi and Hange about it, which they had found out about very fast.” Lana states.

“I saw Y/N for the first time at my birthday dinner and was immediately floored at the fact that she was there. And Armin had quickly told me, when I had scurried away to the bathroom to check on her, so I knew what I had to do. I left my birthday dinner, with Hyla, to break up with her then and there. When I knew that I had a chance at getting Y/N back.” Eren states.

“Do you want to get out of here? Just you and me?”

Hyla gives him a giddy smile as she nods, putting her hand in his, as he drags her out, with his arm secured around his waist. And the second that he can drive them slightly out of earshot, back to the house where he can talk to her in private, there’s a weight that’s lifted off of his chest when he gets to say it.

“I’m breaking up with you.” Eren states.

Hyla frowns, squinting her eyes at him.

“Okay but like…technically, we aren’t even dating. It’s just a publicity thing.” Hyla states.

“Whatever this is. I want out. I-I’m not doing it anymore.” Eren states.

Hyla laughs, sitting criss crossed on the couch, as she looks up at him.

“My dad is going to be super pissed at you, Eren.”

Eren smiles, lighter than he had been feeling in the four years that he had been stuck in this godforsaken house. Because truly, the reason that had brought him here, didn’t matter anymore.

Levi and Hange were on his side - and they were going to help him out of this - and more importantly, you were back. The two of you were going to be together again, despite wherever the hell the two of you were going to be stuck.

“I don’t care. My contrat is almost up anyways. And I can imagine that the same headlines get boring over time, Hyla. I think it’s time to call it quits.”

Eren looks down at her, busily typing away on her phone, as she looks up at him.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Eren?” Hyla states.

“Yeah. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“Fine. You can meet with my dad tomorrow to talk about it. He’s been thinking about bringing Ricky James on for a while anyways.” Eren states.

“Be my guest. You guys would fucking love him.” Eren states, running off.

“I was still on Cloud Nine that night. And it was making my skin itch, knowing that Y/N was like four feet away from me and we were going to be together again. So I woke her up in the middle of the night and took her to the beach outside of one of the houses that Lana and I owned. And-”

Eren tears up in the video, as you fight away the warm tears that are welling in your own eyes.

“During that entire night, I-I was so fucking happy again. All of the things that seemed so consequential to me when I was seventeen, that I needed to be at the same level as Y/N to be with her - which would basically be impossible, because she was always going to be better than me - seemed so ridiculous. The two of us, we just got to be real people in the second. The way that we always got to be when we were together.” Eren states.

“The following morning, Scott had shockingly agreed to let Eren and I be dismissed from our contracts, given that we finished off the press deals that we had going on. Which included the interview that we were going to do on the Life in Love podcast. Which should have ben our first, glaring red flag. That of course, we were never going to be let off that easy.” Lana states.

“It was simple. I guess-I guess I was so fucking happy that I got to talk about me and Y/N, what the two of us coming back together meant to me, that I put it all out there. And the WBS paid off Life in Love and edited the version of the podcast that was released.” Eren states.

“Granted, the part that’s always floored us that people never questioned it once. That the podcast clip that was released was barely ten minutes, when the episodes are usually an hour. That the podcaster has to ask questions to provoke the answers and that they weren’t even in the fucking video. And most of all - the fact that I didn’t even fucking talk thoughout the entirety of the interview.” Lana adds.

“I would have told Y/N. I would have told her the full truth then and there and I know that she would have believed me. Except, the person that I least expected, came to me beforehand and stopped me from doing it.” Eren states.

Eren’s met with an incessant pounding at his door, as he shoves all of his last belongings into his bag, ready to take off with you and Armin - and making your best efforts to drag Connie with you.

Eren opens the door to find Myka at his door, out of breath and panting.

“What?” Eren asks.

“Eren. You can’t leave.”

“Oh what the fuck do you want now? I’m taking Connie with me and that’s the fucking last of it.” Eren states.

“No, Eren. Really. You can’t go right now.” she states, pushing into his room and fervently sliding through her phone.

She hands him over the phone, with the email chain, as he anxiously reads through it and feels his heart drop.

“There’s no way. They can’t do that right?”

The email chain has the headlines - printed out and ready for distribution. Of them displaying every one of the last secrets that he wants out there front and center. About Connie being a drug addict, about Lana and Teddy, and of him and Y/N being homewreckers on the beach.

“It’s just a headline. We’ll be fine.”

“Eren. I read the article. They wrote about her brother’s in the article. About Lana and Ricky too - in detail.”

“What do you mean in detail?”

“They know everything, Eren. About every last detail of what he did to her, Eren. They’re going to put it all out there tomorrow, the second that you leave. And Y/N’s brothers…haven’t they literally been attacked before? This will be tenfold to that, Eren.”

Eren sighs, shaking the thought from this head.

“We’ll send them a security detail. And Lana, Connie, they’ll be-”

“Eren. You know for a fact that Lana doesn’t want anyone to know that he even exists. And Connie’s career. He’s never going to recover from this. And it’s- Y/N won’t be happy, Eren.” She states.

“So what the hell do you want me to do? Just stay here? Because there’s no way in hell that I’m letting Y/N stay here with me. And I know her - she’s not going to leave here without me.”

“They have Falco and Colt’s addresses, Eren. And-and don’t tell anyone but fucking Danny and Sareen? Her producers? They’re in on it. Sareen is literally Scott’s cousin, Eren. They’re planning on taking Y/N’s music away from her, so that they can make money off if it without giving her a cut.”

Eren pales.

“They’re going to do that if she stays here. And you know for a fact that you can’t leave because Connie won’t go and Teddy and- Eren you have to stay. She has to leave.”

“I can’t even fucking trust you. I don’t know what shitty game you’re trying to play here but it’s not funny.”

“I care about you guys.”

“Yeah right.”

“Okay, maybe not about you. But Lana….I care about Lana. This is the last thing she would want, she literally works so hard to make sure that no one will know about him for good reason. It would kill her to see it all get leaked.”

“Who the fuck is Lana to you? You don’t even-”

Eren understands it all too quickly. The pained flash that overtakes her eyes, the eway she’s so incessantly pleading on Lana’s behalf.

It’s because she’s in love with Lana.

Eren sighs, pinching his eyes shut.

“Do you have the article? I have to read it before I decide.” Eren states.

She nods, as she opens up the next email chain andhands him the phone. And when he reads through it, each consecutive sentence makes his stomach hurt, making it glaringly obvious what he has to decide.

Because the all but declare a smear chain against you and your brothers, slut shame you for what happened on he beach, drag Hange and Levi’s name to the blood, and leave no detail of Lana’s relationship with Ricky out. Things that no person should have aired out and Connie’s section nearly career ruining.

“Fuck. So what do I do? I mean-”

Eren can feel the tears burning in his eyes, as the leave warm, hot streaks down his skin.

“You have to make sure she leaves, Eren. You can’t have Y/N stay here. It’ll put things back to normal.” Myka states, downtrodden.

“She’s not going to leave. If I tell her, she’s going to want to stay with me. To be in my side during this and-”

“Say what you have to. To make her leave.”

“Think of the worst possible thing you could say, Eren.”

“I did what she asked. I-I made sure that she would leave. And in hindsight, the entire situation seems so stupid that me. That there were ten other things that I could have done, but…in that moment, I did what I thought was right.”

“It was idiotic in hindsight. Because it stopped them from running their smear campaigns on Lana and Connie, but Y/N was the one who got side sweeped in the middle of it.” Connie states.

“That’s where I came in. Danny and Sareen had reached out to me about everything that had happened with Y/N and Eren. Told me that I needed to amke sure that she came out of this on the other side, that she couldn’t let a guy take her career away from her. And anyone who knows the half of it about me knows for a fact that it was the right thing that they needed me to say, to get her to do it. And really, they had purposely picked everyone who went to see Y/N. Jean, not Mikasa, because he had a personal interest in seeing Eren hurt, because he was hurt too. And Sukuna, who would never advise her head on, but support what she wanted to do in full.” Historia says.

You groan, hanging your head in your knees as you know exactly what’s coming next.

That Danny and Sareen had given Scott and his stupid tabloid company exactly what he wanted. That they were the one pushing you to sing all three songs, that each consecutive piece of information made you more irritated, more mad as you went on to perform. And worse than that - Danny and Sareen made it a point to talk to Eren before the show, just to taunt him to his face.

“I had reached out to Levi and Hange for their help two weeks before the award show happened. And luckily enough for me, they helped us out of the situation, fast. Connie, Lana, Sukuna, and I sued Scott Clarkson for defamation of character, mistreatment of employees, and a dangerous workplace. We got to end our contracts early. And then moved forward.” Eren states.

The video changes to different clips, each one striking deep in your heart. Of Connie blowing out the candles on his one year anniversary of being sober as Teddy blows out his birthday candles, of Eren and Zeke getting along, and of the four of them all together, laughing at stupid videos of each other. And Eren signing along with Lana, brings the tears pouring down your eyes.

There was nothing left to do (Oh-oh, oh-oh) When the butterflies turned to dust that covered my whole room So I punched a hole in the roof (Oh-oh, oh-oh) Let the flood carry away all my pictures of you Rain came pouring down When I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe And by morning Gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean (Oh, oh, oh, oh)

“Make no mistake. There was so much that was taken out of us, in the years that we spent working there at Stone Studios. In being part of an environment that was so shitty, so damaging to who we were and the mental state that we were living in, in the name of making a good movie. But there was good that came out of it too.”

The clips switch, this time shocking you so deeply in your core that it makes your heart burn. Because the clips are of Sukuna and Lana, together. Swinging their hands together on the beach, cooking together in the kitchen, and kissing each other on the cheek.

“I know for a fact now, that the tiny little wishes that I made against my bedroom door have come true. Because I’ve been lucky enough to be blessed with the warmest, most compassionate partner that I could have ever wanted.”

Which is when you notice it. That in the video, Sukuna has the same little teddy bear tattoo as Lana on his forearm. And that they both have the tattoo for their son.

Your past and mine are parallel lines Stars all aligned and they intertwined And taught you The way you call me, "Baby" Treat me like a lady All that I can say is All of the girls you loved before (ooh) Made you the one I've fallen for Every dead-end street Led you straight to me Now you're all I need I'm so thankful for All of the girls you loved before But I love you more

“Lana is the love of my life. I’m glad that every shitty thing in my life was just…preparation for me to get to her. Because every shitty betrayal, every crappy headline, every deep rooted hard feeling in my chest, she’s the person who was made to handle it. She’s gentle, she’s warm, and she’s everything I’ve ever wanted. And I’d go down this path a hundred times more if Teddy and Lana were always the ones waiting for me at the end.” Sukuna states.

“It was a horrible situation. But it’s taught us to appreciate the very best. For me, I finally got to reconcile with my older brother, who go to tell me the real story of what happened to him as a kid. And now, I’ve gotten to rectify one of the most important relationships in my life.” Eren states.

“I feel really shitty for how things went down, Eren.” Zeke states.

Eren nods, hiking his knees to his chest, as he rests his chin against his legs. Hange and Levi had invited Zeke over in his little retreat in the house, as they prepared for the case at the end of the week, just to talk things out. Hange and Levi had all but forced Eren to be polite and at least hear him out.

“I’m sure you’re too young to remember. But, that day at the hospital. They had started the rumors that I was funding drug dealers through money that I had in my back accounts.” Zeke states.

“Well, what did you actually do with that money? Because I know for a fact that Mom and Dad had actually found money being shoveled out of your savings, Zeke.”

He frowns.

“You know my Mom, Eren?”

“What kind of dumbass question is that? We have the same mom, idiot.”

“No, Eren. My biological mother.”

“Oh, sorry. Dina, right?”

“She’s not a good person. And I know that. But, she had reached out to me. Asking for money. She said that she needed the money for hospital bills and all that and that Dad wouldn’t return her calls. And that she feels horrible asking of this, because she knows I’m her son and she should have taken care of me, butcher really, reallyneeded it.” Zeke states.

“And she…spent it on drugs.” Eren states.

“Yeah. And Mom and Dad knew that, they believed me when I told them.”

“They did?”

“Yeah. But it was my decision to distance myself away from you guys. I wasn’t planning on doing it but…Mom lost a magazine cover, Dad lost a role, and…I knew that this was your dream. That you wanted to make it big and you couldn’t really make it big with me attached to your name.”

“Zeke. That’s so stupid. I wouldn’t have cared about that. And I don’t care because-”

“Eren. You don’t care now. There comes a point where everyone reaches this kind of stage. Where thje politics and the shitty tabliods, they make you realize that all of these things are really inconsequential. But at that age, this was all that you wanted. And I’d hate foryou to secretly resent me, resent my shitty decisions, becuase they were the ones that were holding you back.”

“Zeke…”

“I’m just glad to have you back as my brother now. I know my actions don’t really make it seem that way, but you kind of meant the world to me, man.”

The camera cuts, to a black screen with text on it, as the movie closes out.

Eren Jaeger, Lana Price, Connie Springer, and Ryomen Sukuna sued Scott Clarkson and Stone Studios on November 6th. The four of them reached a settlement with the studio, each recieiving twenty-five millions dollars each from the Clarkson Conglomerate.

Lana Price and Ryomen Sukuna have decided to split their settlement money two ways. Both are dedicating a half to ensure that they can continue to fund and upkeep security costs for their son, Theodore Price. And together, the two of them are donating the other half of their money to sexual assault victims, in hopes to support those who have similar experiences to the two of them.

Connie Springer has decided to donate all of his settlement money in order to support the establishment of rehab centers in various cities throughout the country. He hopes to create an advocacy network for those who have struggled and hopes to shine a light on the problems that exist in the current, underfunded programs.

Eren Jaeger, along with his settlement money, has asked Stone Studios for two additional items. First, he has asked for a copy of the original interview that he did for Life in Love, which he plans to return to Y/N L/N, who he claims was the only person who deserved to hear those words in the first place, the first chance he gets.

Second, Eren Jaeger negotiated with the conglomerate for weeks for the masters to Y/N L/N’s album, The Lucky One. The negotiation was short-lived, but the Scott Conglomerate has promised to return the rights of the music to Y/N L/N.

And third. Eren Jaeger has decided to donate his settlement money to fund arts programs throughout the Candian Provinces. Eren Jaegers album, Valedictorian, will donate all of the money produced in it’s first calendar year to the same cause.

“Y/N has dreamed about being a triple threat since she was a kid. But the first time that she ever felt that the dream was real was when, according to her, a group of hippie dippies in her hometown had raised money and petitioned to fund the arts program at her school. Which in turn, helped her realize that this was something that she loved. More so than just something that she wanted to do as a career, but something that was so in tune with who she was as a person, that she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from doing it even if she wanted to. And I’d hate for people to look at me, or at her, and be dissuaded from coming into this industry, no matter how shitty it is. There’s really depth to her art and her work that can’t and wont’ ever be diminished by any of this. Which was the point of all of this anyway.”

The video switches, this time to different clips of you and Eren. Of the two of you at awards shows togethers, sitting in interviews together laughing, and the nearly thousands of clips that Connie has made of you two together throughout the years.

Of the two of you in love.

I still remember the look on your face Lit through the darkness at 1:58 The words that you whispered for just us to know You told me you loved me So why did you go away?

“Make no mistake. Y/N L/N is the love of my life. She’s everything you want in the person you want to spend the rest of your life with and more. She’s compassionate, sensitive, and always been so understanding of me. There’s never been, and going to be, someone in my life that has such a pull on me the way she does. She’s the moon, she’s the only reason that I even push and pull in the way that I do. I wouldn’t be sitting here, in this chair today, telling my truth if she hadn’t been so brave, so truthful as to do it first. And I wouldn’t be sitting here, still wholeheartedly believing in love, even though I lost it, because I know for a fact that it would be a disservice to what we shared to turn myself away from it.”

I never thought we'd have a last kiss I never imagined we'd end like this Your name, forever the name on my lips So I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe And I'll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are Hope it's nice where you are

“It’s always that dumb question that people ask. Would you rather love and lose it or not love at all?”

And I hope the sun shines and it's a beautiful day And something reminds you, you wish you had stayed You can plan for a change in the weather and time But I never planned on you changing your mind

“The correct answer is always to chose love. And it’s an easy question when the person you’re loving is love personified.” Eren finishes.

You turn over to Eren, teary eyed and the gaping, the burning feeling in your chest so immense that you can’t even fathom the words to say to him. So overwhelmed, so overstimulate from everything that you’ve heard - everything that you’ve felt - that you can barely keep your head on straight. The last song starts playing, which you can tell is entitled Fine Line from the credits line, as the words make the sobs wrack through you fully.

We'll be a fine line We'll be a fine line We'll be alright We'll be alright We'll be a fine line We'll be a fine line We'll be alright (alright, alright, alright)

You turn to him, his hands on your shoulders, as he reaches up to brush the tears off of your face. You can still feel yourself hiccuping in his touch, the look in his eyes so pained as he looks into your eyes.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry.” Eren whispers.

“Eren. You- you fucking idiot. I’m going to kill you.” you whisper back, mustering your best glare as you frown at him.

“That frown never stops being cute, you know? You have the horror appeal of a stuffed animal.”

You shove him, in response, glaring at him as the burning in your chest slightly subsides.

“Stop trying to lighten the mood. I’m ten different levels of mad at you right now.”

“Okay. I’m going to say something crazy to you, but it’s just an idea, okay? We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to?”

“What the fuck could be crazier than…oh, I told you that I didn’t care about you because I wanted to protect you? Or, oh, I sued a person who took everything away from me and instead of trying to get more money, I tried to get back the rights to your music. Or oh, THAT STUPID INTERVIEW I DID WAS FUCKING EDITED?”

“Okay. Maybe it’s a little less crazy than that. But just hear me out okay?”

“I can basically never hear that phrase the same from you again. The last time I didn’t hear you out, you were sitting on a butt load of fucking information. Like the fact that you took the fall for me when someone threatened my fucking family? Or oh, I was struggling for years on end but never once reached out to you or-”

“Sweetheart. Just listen to me. Please.”

You frown, crossing your arms as you look at him.

“Everyone else is going to be on the press tour for another four days. And there are some people who want to see us….in Seattle.”

“Seattle? Don’t tell me in some weird twisted way that you're friends with Hyla or something?”

“Ew, no. Not Hyla. But your wife wistfully looks at the window everyday, wondering when you’re going to come home from war. And no I’m not being dramatic she makes that joke almost every day. And Sukuna said he has some choice words prepared for you that he’s been sitting on for a few years now. And, it’s also Teddy’s sixth birthday. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’m kind of his favorite. And I know that he would like you too.”

“You-”

“It would just be for two days. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but the two of them. They really love you. They want to see you and…you have a lot to talk about. With both of them.”

“Yeah. I-I want to see Lana. And Sukuna, they…. fuck, Eren. they went through so much. You- you went through so much. I’d like to see them and- Eren, I don’t know what to say but-” you respond, the tears warm as they spread down your eyes.

“Don’t say anything yet. Sit on it for a little. I’ll pack our things, yeah?” he states, voice warm as he smiles at you.

“Okay.”

“One last thing, Y/N.”

“Eren. You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

He rolls his eyes, as he fishes through his pocket, and places a USB in your hand. You twist it over in your fingers as you look at it and give him a confused look.

“The interview. Unedited. I-I meant what I said. You-you should be able to hear it. Those words are meant for you and you only.

You turn it over in your hands, preshing it flesh against your hand, as you and Eren step out of the townhouse into the snow and head towards the car for the airport.

Hand in hand.

next part linked here

an: GUYS U CANT SIMP OVER SUKUNA ANYMORE HES A FATHER. LEAVE HIM ALONE I SWEAR TO GOD. that being said sukuna and lana appearances next chapter RAAAA. and as always, someone send me an ask for the valedictorian tracklist I HAVE IT LOCKED AND LOADED

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @mrksnctzen @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv

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strangerthings-01 · 8 months ago

Text

Just a blurb to entertain until I can write more ❤️

It’s been too long, my friends.

Plot: Eddie comes up to your job to flirt with you, things get a little spicy.

Warnings: some sexual content.

💜💜

Working as a waitress was not for the weak. It was constant running around. Taking orders. Checking up on tables. Pleasing people. All for shitty tips and long unnecessary hours.

Tonight was particularly busy. Almost every table was filled with people. Dishes and napkins scattered everywhere. Loud voices filled the restaurant making it harder to understand what people were saying. tIt was a Saturday night so it was expected but it did not change the amount of stress you were under.

As you were behind the counter grabbing drink refills for a customer, you hear a very familiar voice behind you. “It’s sexy seeing you work so hard.” You turned around to see your boyfriend sitting down, chin in his hand. A cocky smile on his face. “Eddie we are so packed. You cannot be distracting me right now.” You chuckled and shook your head knowing how he was.

He would do this every now and then where he would come up to flirt with you while you were busy. It annoyed you to an extent but it was also nice to have him there to talk to when you had a break.

You walked past him and felt his hand snake across your stomach causing your breath to hitch. “Stop it.” You scolded him as you continued to walk the drinks to the table. You heard him laugh behind you and you wanted to smack and kiss him all at once. He knew he was being an ass but he also knew you loved it.

After a couple minutes of more running around, you returned back to the counter and stood in front of him. He was sipping on a drink and looked up at you with a smirk. “You’re going to be the reason I get bad tips.” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. He snorted and wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. “With how you look tonight…” He bit his lip and looked you up and down. “I think you’ll get damn good tips.”

You had started dressing more cute because despite how gross it was, it got you more tips. Tonight you had your black high waisted jeans and your crew member shirt that you had tied up with a ponytail holder to look more tighter against your body, the slightest bit of skin showing. Your hair was pulled into two braids, a couple of loose strands poking out.

“You are terrible Eddie Munson.” You rolled your eyes playfully but kissed him anyways. You didn’t give him much of a chance to respond before you pulled away and went behind the counter to grab a receipt for a table. “You are such a tease babe.” He groaned. “You knew what to expect when you came in here on a Saturday night babe.” You threw back at him in a playful tone. You printed out the receipt and walked past him, this time feeling his hand move from the back of your thigh to your ass as you walked past. You felt your body tingle but ignored it, trying to focus. Anytime he came here, it always ended up with you taking a 10 and a make out sesh. It was far too busy for that.

You took a good 20 minutes making sure everyone was taken care of. After you were sure no one else needed anything, you headed back to the front. Eddie stood up as you approached him and grabbed your hand, not giving any room for you to protest as he pulled you into the employee restroom, locking it as he pushed you agaisnt the sink. “Eddie it’s so busy. I can’t.” He kissed you to shut you up and as much as you wanted to push him away, you kissed him back. “You’re so stressed baby.” He kissed you deeply, slipping his tongue past your lips. You made a sound of content as you gripped his shirt. He lifted you onto the sink counter and moved to your neck, kissing and licking. “Eddie.” You gasped, eyes closing. He rubbed your legs, getting close to your aching core. He continued to lavish your neck, sucking on one spot for a bit before pulling away.

He stepped back and watched with a smirk as you caught your breath. You gaped at him. “You are such an ass. Now I’m gonna be horny all night.” He laughed and shrugged. “Maybe that was my plan all along.” You hopped off the counter and playfully shoved him. “I hate you.” He grabbed your wrists and pulled you agaisnt his chest. “No you don’t. You definitely won’t when you finally get home.” He kissed the spot right next to your ear. You shivered at his words and looked up at him. “Now get back out there tiger.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “You are so going to pay for this later.” You lean up and kiss him, feeling him return it immediately. “Mhm I look forward to it.” You pulled away. “I gotta go. I love you.” You said as you pulled the door open. “I love you more.” You heard him say as you slipped out back onto the floor. You smiled and touched your lips before getting back into your service mode. He would be death of you.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddiemunsonclingy #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff

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yeonjunsbxtch · 2 years ago

Text

I Feel Everything - Kang Taehyun

Summary: You loved Taehyun, but sometimes he was just a bit too cold. He wasn’t good at showing his emotions, which often left you wondering what was going through his head. Until one day, you snapped when he was late to your anniversary dinner. And he didn’t seem to care all too much. So you decided it was time to call it quits. Little did you know that was enough to trigger some emotion out of him.

Genre: angst, smut, slight fluff

Warnings: yelling, cold!taehyun, laughing during an argument, unprotected sex, marking, dom!taehyun, possessiveness, pet names, degradation, dirty talk, arguing, swearing, insults, angry!taehyun, choking, toxic, edging, cunnilingus, praise, Taehyun calls reader a bitch, reader is wearing a dress, insinuates reader is inexperienced, overstimulation.

Pairing: Taehyun x fem!reader

Word count: 4k+

Song Inspo: I Feel Everything - Amelia Moore, Die For You - The Weeknd

Reminder: This fic does not reflect Taehyun as a person. This is fiction.

"How could you do this to me?! Do you not realize how stupid I looked?!" Your lungs exploded as you busted through Taehyun's front door with Taehyun dragging his feet behind you. You were disappointed when your attempt to slam the door on his face failed.

"Can you not be so loud? I have neighbors." Taehyun said flatly as he gently closed the door behind him.

"Why?! You don't want people hearing how much of a shitty boyfriend you are?!" Your voice even louder now, purposely trying to get anyone you could to hear you. You walked further into the house, running your fingers through your hair in frustration.

"Y/N.."

"What!?"

"You need to take your shoes off."

Of course that is all he cares about. You glared at him, thinking for a moment he was finally going to show empathy.

You sent the shoes on your feet flying across the room, earning an eye roll from the asshole behind you.

"Are you happy now?!"

"Can you calm down?"

"No! Why don't you care about me Taehyun?!" You screamed at the pink haired boy now in front of you. Tears were streaming down your face as Taehyun stood still, not batting an eye. His blank stare burned through you.

"I do."

You wanted to rip your hair out with how monotoned he was.

No matter the argument, Taehyun never seemed.. bothered. He never expressed his emotions to you, which left you constantly wondering what he was thinking. Not even during the most intense arguments would he open up. At first, you thought he just needed to get more comfortable. But now after a year of dating, he remains the same. And you've about had enough.

"No! No you don't Taehyun! We had plans for our one year tonight and you don't even care that you were late! I've been trying to express to you how hurt I am and you don't even care! You're so emotionless while I'm left to feel everything!"

Your blood started to run hot as you saw a smirk form on Taehyun's face. Taehyun sneered at you, letting out a sardonic chuckle. You knew he never took you seriously. But you never knew the extent of it, until now.

"Are you laughing at me?" Your voice now quiet.

"Yeah I am. This is ridiculous y/n! I told you I had practice later than expected and you can't take that as an answer."

And even still, everything you said went over Taehyun's head. It wasn't that you couldn't take it as an answer. It was because you've taken it as an answer too many times.

"You always say that Taehyun. And I accept it every single time even though it hurts me. But what hurts me the most is how nonchalant you are about it! You don't even care that you had practice late! You don't even care that I was waiting at the restaurant by myself looking stupid for an hour! I even went out of my way to buy a brand new dress just for tonight and you don't fucking care! If you cared, I wouldn't always have to beg you to tell me how you're feeling or get any sort of comfort out of you!"

"Then why are you still with me?"

And that was when your heart shattered. You looked at him for a moment, trying to find any remorse in his empty expression. All you wanted was for him to comfort you. All you wanted was for him to finally open up to you. But there was no attempt to fight for you. And you knew there was no hope in trying to hold on.

"I don't know." Was all you could say. It felt like your chest was ripping open. You had given the man in front of you your all. All of your love had been poured into him while you got nothing in return. "I shouldn't have to beg to be loved Taehyun."

Taehyun continued to stare at you. You still could not read him. And you knew you were never going to be able to. So it was time you admitted defeat. Without saying another word, you turned around and headed upstairs.

You went straight to Taehyun's bedroom to start packing the things you had left at his place. Only now, you felt they were just a big waste of space.

You started going around the room, gathering your things one by one and throwing them into a duffle bag. You didn't care about knocking things over. You didn't care about making a mess. You just wanted to get out of there as soon as you could.

You made your way over to 'your' side of the bed, where various items of yours had made a home for themselves on the nigthstand. You swept everything into the bag at once with your arm, dropping a few things here and there. You wiped tears from your face as you kneeled down, frantically trying to pick everything up. You filled your lungs with as much air as you could, trying your hardest not to burst into tears again.

Suddenly, you heard the door crack open. You knew who it was and it took every ounce of your strength to ignore him. Your shaking hands continued to attempt to pick up everything that had fallen.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

Your stomach turned, creating a nauseating feeling within you. You kept your head down, trying to not look at him.

"I'm packing. What does it look like I'm doing you fucking robot."

"Y/N, Stop packing.. please."

The sound of panic was pronounced in his voice causing you to come to a halt. Your eyes stayed glued to your bag, refusing to look at him despite his unfamiliar tone.

"Why should I stop? You're the one who suggested I leave you. So that's what I'm doing."

"Just... stop... please Y/N."

You finally looked at him. There he was standing by the door, hands wrapped around the back of his neck as he watched you anxiously. His eyes were wide and full of panic. You couldn't help but feel a little guilty in that moment, seeing him like you've never seen him before.

You had to admit, you felt bad for him. You never meant to make him react like this. But on the other hand, you were angry. Angry that it took you leaving him to make him show any emotion at all. And that anger within you was just a little bit stronger.

You looked back down at the bag in your hand. It took everything you had to put the last of your things in the bag. Standing up, you tried your best to avoid eye contact with Taehyun who had already closed the door, now standing guard of it.

"Please move Taehyun."

"No."

Your heart was beating fast. There he was, attempting to fight for you in some way, shape or form. But you knew settling for this wouldn't be good for either of you.

"Taehyun, I'm leaving. You need to move and let me through."

Taehyun kept his eyes locked on you as he hesitantly took a step to the side. 'Well that didn't last long.' You felt conflicted in this moment. You told him to move but why did your heart sink when he actually moved?

As you were about to reach for the knob, you felt your bag being pulled out of your grasp.

"What the fuck are yo-"

Before you could finish your sentence, you were shoved up against the door, both of your hands being pinned on either side of you. You struggled to get out of Taehyun's grip until your eyes inevitably met his. He stared down at you with a dark and narrow gaze. His jaw was clenched, face red with anger. Also an emotion you've never seen from him. You began to sweat, experiencing a side of him you've never seen before.

"Taehyun.. please.. let me go." You managed to breath out.

Taehyun inched closer to you. His chest now pressing against yours. He slowly leaned down to meet his lips with your ear as he tightened his grip on your wrists.

"You're not going anywhere."

His hot breath against your ear sent goosebumps throughout your body. You swallowed hard as you shut your eyes for a brief moment, taking in the sweet sensation of his lips softly grazing against your skin.

You twisted your wrists at one more attempt of escaping until you felt his breath flow down your neck. Your knees buckled underneath you and for a moment, you were actually relieved Taehyun had a hold of you. You couldn't believe how weak you were for him. Taehyun roughly connected his wet lips with your neck and it took everything you had not to moan out his name. You held your bottom lip between your teeth as he took his time placing harsh, opened mouthed kisses along the side of your neck. The feeling mixed between pain and pleasure as he ended each kiss with a harsh pull of your skin.

"Taehyun.." His name finally escaping your lips. You breathed out as he continued to savor the taste of your neck.

You squirmed underneath him, the tingling sensation traveling from your neck to your core. The unfamiliar feeling enveloped you as you tried your best to keep your strength. But you knew this was a battle you would not win.

"First you wanted to leave me.." you shivered at the sudden vibration of his voice against you. You felt Taehyun trail his tongue up your neck. He kissed around the shell of your ear before continuing his sentence. "Now you're moaning my name before I've even fucked you."

Taehyun then pulled back to get a good look at you. You gazed up at him with heavy lids, mind now clouded with only him. Everything that had happened leading up to this moment had completely left your mind.

"Now tell me what you really want princess. Do you want to leave.." He slowly dragged his finger up your body, caressing every curve until he got to your neck. He wrapped his hand firmly around your throat, earning a gasp as you briefly lost your breath. "Or do you want to be a good little slut for me?"

You couldn't speak. His manipulation tactics were something you could see right through. But that did not mean they didn't work.

"What's wrong? Hm? Bitch can't speak?" He tightened the grip around your throat just enough for your mouth to open even wider for his admiration. "You sure knew how to use that pretty little mouth earlier."

You felt the hold he had on you. You were hearing the words that were coming out of his mouth. You saw the rage in his eyes. The thought of not knowing what he was going to do to you was enough to make you tremble. And yet, you still felt a sense of security within this new side of him. And you couldn't lie, you loved it.

You were suddenly gasping for air as you felt Taehyun release his grip on you. He took a step back, disconnecting himself from you. Suddenly, you felt empty. A fire ingnited within you, frustrated that Taehyun had riled you up for nothing.

"Why.. Why did you.." You couldn't even finish your sentence. Your body was weak. Your voice raspy.

"Stop? You need to tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me I can ruin you."

All feeling in your legs dissipated. His deep voice echoed through your body, awakening a deep desire you had failed to realize you had before.

"Taehyun.. please.."

The end of Taehyun's lip tugged up, knowing the effect he had on you. He took a step towards you, towering over you as he kept his dark gaze locked on yours. You gazed back up at him with a pleading look in your eyes. The tension growing stronger by the second.

He inched closer, you could feel the warmth of his lips radiating onto yours. Your lips trembled, begging to be kissed by his.

"Please what?" His voice now soft yet still filled with so much desire.

You found your arms wrapping around him. His body felt hot under your touch as his arms stayed by his side, refusing to touch you until he has your permission. Your hand slowly traveled to the nape of his neck, caressing it softly as you saw him flutter his eyes for a moment. You pulled him even closer to you, his lips now brushing against yours.

"Please ruin me."

All hesitation faded from you as you pulled him fully into you, connecting his lips with yours. He wasted no time in returning the kiss, devouring you as he pushed you further against the door. His arm glided down your back, pulling you as close to him as possible. He pulled away for a moment, leaving you breathless as he tugged at your bottom lip.

Taehyun slid his hands down, taking a hold of your ass as he grinded into you. You could feel his erection pressing against you and you wanted nothing more than for it to be inside you. His hands made their way to the back of your thighs, swiftly pulling them around his waist. You wrapped your arms securely around his neck, holding onto him as your tongues swirled together.

It wasn't long until you felt your back hit the mattress. You let out a whine, missing the feel of his lips on yours. Taehyun stood over you, watching as your body squirmed, withdrawing from his touch.

"How bad do you want me to touch you?" He traced small circles along your stomach, teasing you every time he made his way lower.

"Really bad Taehyun.. So bad.."

"Mmm, that's what I like to hear."

He began to play with the hem of your dress, pulling it up to expose your panties. He let out a pleased sigh, seeing the wet spot that had quickly formed on your pretty underwear.

He smirked at the way you instinctively opened your legs the second he touched your skin. He slowly started caressing your bare thighs, his thumbs brushing around the inner lining of your panties. Each stroke of his hands causing you to tremble.

His hands slowly made their way up, grabbing a hold of your underwear and gently pulling them down. He took his time, savoring the way you shivered, feeling the way the cooler air hit your now exposed pussy. He pulled your panties completely off of you, throwing them who knows where. His eyes were only on you and the way your pussy glistened in front of him.

"Shit baby.. look at you." You cooed at the way he called you baby, a nickname you've been craving for a while now. Taehyun watched as your chest heaved up and down, growing impatient at the way he took his time. "You're so fucking wet and we aren't even halfway done. So fucking pathetic."

His voice sounded sweet but his words were like daggers that carved into you in the best way possible.

"Please do something Taehyun.. please"

Yeah, he was right. You did sound pathetic. But there was nothing more you needed than for him to ravish you.

"Be patient my love. Consider this punishment for your behavior before."

Your body shivered as you felt the warmth of his breath slowly approach your core. His lips just inches away from finally giving you the pleasure you craved. He lightly grazed the tip of his tongue up your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath as you bucked your hips, pleading for more. He followed with another lick, this time with more passion. You couldn't help but reach down and tangle your fingers in his soft locks.

He let out a low groan, loving the way you pushed him closer as he sucked on your clit. You glanced down at him, locking eyes with him as he was already watching the way you reacted to his every move.

"Baby you taste so fucking good.."

Moans were flooding out of your mouth, repeating his name over and over again as the sensation became more intense. You were practically suffocating Taehyun at this point with the way you wrapped your legs around his neck. He grabbed onto your thighs, squeezing them as he continued to flatten his tongue along your folds.

With the way you were moving your hips, he could tell you were close. The fire in your core grew as did the tension in your abdomen feeling every vibration of his groans.

"Ahh.. Taehyun.. I'm gonna cum.." Your words came out as whines as you rocked your pussy against his tongue.

You were about to come undone when Taehyun suddenly drew back.

"Ahh! Fuck Taehyun! What the hell!?" You cried out, needing the release more than anything. Taehyun then stood up, leaning over you as tears were falling down your face.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be able to cum soon."

He wiped a few tears off your face before proceeding to unbuckle his belt. He then pulled his pants down along with his boxers, finally freeing his cock. You watched as he swiftly pulled his shirt off, revealing his perfectly toned body.

"Take your clothes off and lay down on the bed. Now." Taehyun demanded. You instantly sat up at his command, unzipping the back of your dress and quickly taking it off. Taehyun watched as you unhooked your bra and threw it on the ground. He licked his lips at the way you crawled up the bed, laying your head down on the pillow per his order. You felt your face heat up. You couldn't help but feel a little shy, covering your body with your arms.

Taehyun got onto the bed, making his way up to you, not breaking eye contact for a second.

"Good girl.. but.." He gently pulled your arms off your body, laying them down at your sides. "Don't cover your beautiful body."

He grabbed both your legs and laid them over his shoulders. You watched in anticipation as he started stroking his cock, precum dripping out of the tip.

The tight feeling in your stomach returned as he began to stroke your slick folds with the tip of his cock, just barely pushing the tip in each time he slid down to your entrance.

"Taehyun.. Please just fuck me."

"Shh.. Let me take my time. I have some things to make up to you."

He then aligned himself at your entrance, finally sliding into you. You let out a long moan, feeling him stretch you out so perfectly. Your walls clenching around him, earning a hiss from him.

"F-fuck.. you feel so good."

He slowly started to move in and out of you, picking up the pace with each thrust. He looked down and watched the way he disappeared inside of you, loving the way you fit around him so perfectly.

Your pretty little moans were music to his ears and he couldn't get enough. He now hovered over you, keeping your legs over his shoulders as he rocked his hips harder into you, hitting your cervix just right. You felt like you could explode right then and there with the way he used your body.

"Baby you take my cock so good." He placed kisses along your forehead, comforting you from any pain you might have been feeling. You wrapped your arms around his torso, digging your nails into his back causing him to go even faster.

"It feels so good Taehyun.."

He kissed you once more, swallowing your moans. This time with passion unlike anything you've experienced before. He pressed your knees into your chest, hitting a spot you never knew was possible. You squeezed your eyes shut, drowning in total ecstasy. You didn't know whether to grip the sheets or Taehyun's strong arms as he pounded into you. Taehyun spewed low groans repeatedly as he continued to plunge inside of you.

"Fuckk.. baby you're so wet." Taehyun hissed, hearing the sounds your pussy made with each thrust.

"All.. for you.."

Taehyun let out a growl, hearing the words and moans that flooded out of your mouth. He pried one of your hands off the bedsheet, guiding it down to your clit.

"Rub yourself for me baby.."

You did as you were told, eagerly massaging your clit in a circular motion. Taehyun's hand made its way back up to your throat, this time gripping it just enough to keep your gaze aligned with his. You looked into his dark eyes, tears running down your cheeks as your stomach started to tighten. The pressure in your abdomen growing immensely. You tried to push back on him, feeling the pressure becoming too much. But your attempts failed as Taehyun held you down, your reaction making him fuck you harder, forcing you to experience the intense, unfamiliar feeling.

"Tae-Taehyun.. It's too much.." You whimpered out, squirming under his dominance. But just when you thought he couldn't go any faster, he did, thrusting his hips up into you in a merciless rhythm.

"Baby you're doing soo good.. ahh f-fuck.. you're almost there I can feel it."

That was enough for you to completely lose yourself. You screamed out in ecstasy, dissolving in pleasure as you reached your high. He watched your every expression as he felt your walls pulsating around him, your fluids soaking him.

And hearing you scream his name as your release saturated his cock was enough for him to finally come undone.

"Shit shit shit.. I'm cumming y/n.."

Taehyun's hips stuttered as he emptied himself inside you. He slowed down his thrusts as he rode out his high, making sure every drop of his cum was deep inside you.

All movements then came to a stop. The two of you laid in silence, catching your breath and gazing into each other, slowly coming back to reality. Moments passed before the silence was broken.

"I-I'm sorry.." Taehyun whispered out, swallowing hard. You saw his expression change, that panic look from earlier slowly returning to his eyes. He carefully slid out of you, leaving you empty and gently resting your weak legs on the bed. You could have sworn you saw a tear escape his eye before he turned away.

"Taehyun, are you okay?"

He embraced you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. Tears running from his eyes onto your shoulder.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I really am. I don't know what's wrong with me."

You weren't sure what to do since you had never seen him cry before. So you wrapped your arms around him, caressing his hair as he wept into you. Your heart ached for him.

"Taehyun, there's nothing wrong with you."

You rubbed his bare back, comforting him the best you could. Your fingers softly massaging the scratches you had left.

He placed soft pecks along the bruises on your neck.

"Does it hurt? I didn't want to hurt you."

You let out a soft chuckle.

"A little but... I actually liked it."

Taehyun met his gaze with yours once more, a slightly amused face peaking under his tear ridden cheeks.

"I didn't know you were so kinky." He teased, relieving some of the tension between the two of you.

A gentle smile formed on your face as you looked into his entrancing eyes. And there it was. A sparkle of emotion. The longing look you had been, well, longing for. A thousand words were laid out on his sleeve. There was no need for anything more.

"But seriously though, I'm going to try harder to open up to you, okay? You deserve the best and I want to be that for you."

You grabbed a hold of Taehyun's face, cupping his cheeks as it was now your turn to wipe some tears off his face.

"I know."

He leaned down, placing a gentle but heartfelt kiss on your lips. You immediately reciprocated pulling him into a deeper kiss.

The kiss quickly grew heated once more and it wasn't long before he was pushing himself back into you. Your body shuddered at the overstimulating feeling as he slowly thrusts into you.

"Tae... fuck.. again?"

You moaned into his mouth, earning a low chuckle from him.

"Oh baby, I told you I had a lot of making up to do.." He gently wrapped your legs around his waist, sinking his cock deeper into you. "I'm gonna be inside you all night."

I hope you all enjoyed !!

🏷 @zen003xx @storminacloud @stephaniekim15 @eneiyri @luvsoobs @letapostropheesgo @coochiecrawler @dilfjohhny @neozon3nha @moavill97 @bailies-me @julie03 @heartsforheeseung

I apologize if some tags don’t work !! 💓

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forgetyoursingalongsandlullabies · 3 months ago

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I’m thinking about the TMA S4 Q&A where Alex asks Jonny “Who knew that Jon liked Martin first, Jon or Martin?” And Jonny answers “Georgie”. I’ve already made my statement on Georgie knowing Jon had feelings for Martin before Jon did. My current thought is that this particular question was one that Alex himself asked Jonny, it wasn’t one of the Q&A questions asked by the audience which means to Alex’s mind there is a world in which Martin knew Jon had feelings for him before Jon even knew. And to be honest that would make so much sense as to why Martin put up with Jon’s shitty behavior towards him for so long and stayed so loyal to him. Like yeah the man definitely has a humiliation/degradation kink or something but also maybe he knew there was something there and just knew he needed to nurture it.

I’m on record saying Jon developed feelings for Martin in season 2 but I also think it is possible that Jon thought Martin was at least very cute upon first laying eyes on him. I think in season 1 Jon tries very hard to be a professional and masked his uncertainty and fear with arrogance and condescension. Ordinarily Jon would think it is unprofessional to talk shit about his assistant on tape even if he doesn’t like him, except that Jon is actively working to not like Martin and the best way to convince yourself of something is to keep saying it out loud. On Martin’s first day in the archives Jon saw this sweet man chasing a dog and first thought ‘Oh no he’s an idiot and I have to be his boss’ but he also thought ‘Oh no he’s cute and I have to be his boss’ so he takes that initial disapproval and dials it up to 10 and just rolls with it to mask and dilute the moment when he thought Martin was a cutie patootie and try to never have that thought again. But we all know that Martin is a lot more perceptive than he lets on and is also a manipulative son of a bitch. Jon is not an amazing liar and maybe Martin saw some part of Jon protesting a little much and thought oh yeah this guy is into me and Martin developed his mild S1 crush. By the time Martin had his first encounter with Jane Prentiss he had let go of the inkling that Jon might like him too and thought Jon actually does hate him but when Jon offers to let Martin stay in the archives to protect him Martin is just kind of like Oh it’s on. So going forward from the moment Jon has Martin move into the archives Martin is flirtier and bolder with Jon.

Through season 2 when Jon is obviously going crazy with paranoia Martin just pushes himself in closer to Jon. First of all he gifts the man the ashes of his enemy as if that’s normal! But also Martin brings Jon tea and hovers around him during lunch and talks to him casually and kindly when nobody else does and makes it Jon’s idea to go to lunch with him even though Jon is supposed to be suspicious of him. He nurtures Jon the way someone would a rescue cat, being kind through the hissing and scratching until you get slow blinks from them and they nervously make sure you’re sitting there to guard them while they eat.

By season 3 when Daisy is interrogating Martin she tells him that everyone she’s spoken to tells her that Jon and Martin are close. Just how did that happen to the extent that any given person at the institute who is asked would say so, at a time when for all intents and purposes Jon was actually pushing away everyone else who knew him? Martin was working hard and he knew what he was doing and he also knew it wasn’t a lost cause. To digress just a moment, when my mom was first dating my stepdad (whom she has now been happily married to for 20 years) he was being kind of noncommittal and on-again-off-again but she would say to me all the time “He loves me he just doesn’t know it yet.” And me being 7 I thought she was crazy but she was right! And honestly in this theoretical world this is exactly how Martin approached things.

All of seasons 3 and 4 for Martin were simple acts of faith, love and loyalty. That charged conversation in MAG 102 that I am OBSESSED with gains quite a lot with the added subtext that Martin has known Jon has feelings for him for a while and now Jon is also starting to realize it too and maybe Martin knows Jon knows! In season 4 when Martin is pushing Jon away with a stick it makes so much sense that he knows Jon has feelings for him because he knows that he has to work hard to keep Jon away. If he thought it was just about Jon wanting information from him he might have approached things differently but he actually took steps to make sure Jon was getting information from him by leaving Jon tapes. He just knew that Jon would pull him too far away from The Lonely which he was now committed to. Like, if your sort of ex-boss sort of friend wants to talk to you sometimes I don’t think that’s going to stop anyone from being lonely but Martin for sure knew by S4 that if he let Jon in, The Lonely plot would be done for. Not only would Peter’s plans be shot because Martin would commit himself to being with Jon and Jon would fully reciprocate but also Peter would definitely take it out on Jon. When Jon pulled Martin from The Lonely I don’t think it would have been enough for Jon to love Martin and also for Martin to love Jon, I think Martin had to know that Jon loved him. So when Martin said that Jon didn’t need him he probably did believe that but he also knew that Jon loves him already so being able to really See Jon just reminded him of what he already knew.

I love this possibility and in fact I now fully do believe that Martin knew Jon loved him back by S4.

#oops I wrote another jonmartin essay #I’m not a fanfic writer the closest I can get is fantheory and fanspeculation #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #jon sims #jonmartin #jmart #teaholding #tma #the magnus archives

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glitteryinknotes · 1 year ago

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Astarion & his life before Cazador

After seeing a few different takes on it, my thoughts have been circling around Astarion's pre - vampiric life and what it must have been like to shape him into the person we know, behind the trauma and his attempts to hide the truth of his feelings and vulnerability inside him.

After days of musings, I've tried to gather my thoughts into a single analysis of a sort, both on his general mindset and his life as the person buried in the graveyard as Astarion Ancunin.

What can be said - disappointing as it is - is that in his life he most likely was what can be tactfully referred to as "an asshole". He held a magistrate's position, but most likely didn't give a damn about anything other than luxuries this position provided him with and the life of utter debauchery he was given on a silver plate. I don't think he's ever had to really fend for anything nor work towards anything, or deal with any kind of problems either on personal or any other level. What's worse - he probably had his part in some form of severe oppression of the common people, otherwise why would he get jumped and beaten to death (his attackers clearly aimed for his death, not just a lesson to be taught) in his own city.

(I would like to mark at that point that my further thoughts are not an excuse for him being a shitty person. If he was a dick indeed, that's on him)

Astarion is, fundamentally, as others have pointed out before me, a rather selfish person - or more specifically, self - absorbed to the point of selfishness. That's one of his core vices.

However.

He isn't an evil person either. He is capable of compassion and taking interest in other people. He is fiercely loyal to those he loves (that being Tav) and capable of consideration, pride and joy for those he considers friends. He is very slow to trust (understandably so) or accept kindness - but once he does, he remains true to the people who granted him those gifts. His confession scenes are the best proof of that - where his consience, still intact, is eating him up as he can't stomach leading on the only person he knows who treated him well.

And as much as he adores his own charms, beauty, pleasure, fine things, there is deep within him the yearning for something more than that. He isn't truly sated by all of those shallow things, nor is he pushed to any kind of growth within them. This yearning is something he is barely able to recognise and understand himself, let alone pursue it. But it's there.

Astarion's character and behavioral patterns must have been shaped before. The trauma from Cazador's enslavement broke him, scarred his psyche to unimaginable extent, exposed his worse qualities and drove him to become a shell of who he could have been, leaving him utterly out of touch with himself, burdened with indescribable guilt and self - loathing, stuck in desperate survival mindset. But his inner self was still shaped somewhere and somehow.

I've come to imagine that his pre-vampiric life wasn't really a happy one. It was undoubtedly rich, loud, unspoiled by any hardships, but fundamentally empty. Without any semblance of meaning, without any true kinship with anyone or any genuine emotional intimacy. Even if he lived like there was no tomorrow and nothing in the world mattered but his pleasure - deep down, maybe he knew he wasn't truly satisfied and that no amount of shameless, drunk debauchery would ever fullfill this emptiness. Perhaps he craved something more after all, something he hadn't been taught how to seek.

Now how could it have come to that?

He was most likely born in some wealthy local family (or one with considerable influence in the city) that held the position of the magistrate for generations, hence his lifestyle and being granted the title at such a young age for elven standards (he was 39 at the time of his presumed death; i personally would equal that to no more than 30 years by human standards, more like middle 20s even). He was obviously somebody's son - but I don't personally believe he ever experienced the healthy, genuine love a child should be provided, he strikes me as a type of person who never quite had a good, trusted role model to look up to, no one to call him out on his vices and lovingly steer him into growing into a possibly best version of himself. No one to check him on his selfish instincts and show him that there may be a more rewarding way of going through the world. That kind of thing usually happens through some sort of neglect and lack of sufficient care; my guess is that he never had an actual meaningful bond with his parents, was raised mostly by hired caretakers and overall in his childhood didn't experience the much needed selfless love & care from emotionally close people, the kind of love that subconsciously makes us believe that there is good and kindness in the world and that it's worth the effort on our part.

Whatever came in his elder years couldn't have been better, and it certainly didn't make him a better person. Some amount of power, money, countless pleasures, all of that he so adores but which doesn't ultimately fullfill him nor make him truly value and appreciate himself on a deeper level. And after his death - he was most likely mourned in some way, but not necessarily missed by anyone and was quickly forgotten. Perhaps his parents remembered - but they too eventually moved on.

What leads me to believe that?

The most interesting thing about Astarion's final love declaration to Tav is that he says he feels "seen" with them. It's one of the most beautiful things we people can offer each other - the feeling of being "seen" and safe in that sight, understood, felt, valued. That can only happen when the other person knows us well enough to be aware of all the ugly qualities we possess, but is just as aware of our capability for all the good ones, and so, in the greater picture sees the better version of ourselves (sometimes even better than we ourselves can picture) and that vision, when truly caring for the other person, we trust and want to live up to. By seeing ourselves the way our loved one sees us, we allow ourselves to grow and be better.

I don't think Astarion ever had that kind of person. I don't believe that he ever, in his pre - vampiric life, experienced a kind of love and trust needed for such a feeling - being "seen", and wanting to be seen as someone good, worthy, valued. Even more - I don't think he ever had any kind of true friend or companion. And that kind of emptiness deeply cripples a person, no matter who they are.

The tragic thing is - Tav may not be the first person to show Astarion kindness and care after years of torment from Cazador, they may be the first selflessly caring and kind person in his entire life. Even if he doesn't remember anything about his previous life, emotionally, he doesn't even seem to recognise the feeling of being cared for, considered, valued, appreciated for who he is, he doesn't instinctively recognise emotional closeness of any kind. Tav may be his first ever true companion, confidant, someone he comes to value and trust enough, that he eventually wants to be the same for them - and be better himself.

Tav may just be the first person to be a selfless and genuinely healthy influence for him, the first person to call him out on shitty behaviour and challenge him, but also to the first one to care. Ever. The first person Astarion comes to care about. The person through whom he learns to care and value more, both others and himself. And the person through whom he learns to love.

I don't believe he ever loved before, nor was he truly loved in the first place. Maybe he never tried, maybe he never dared, maybe he didn't know how to, maybe no one taught him. Tav was the best thing to happen to him in both of his lives.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion analysis

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hxzbinwrites · 10 months ago

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Yayyy! Vox was who I wanted to make a request for so I was thinking what if female reader is an overlord who deals with weapons that can kill sinners and hellborn. Maybe she is also an owner of a nightclub? maybe she died in the 1920s and she knew Alastor as well and maybe she’s had a crush on him but he’s not interested in her so then she goes and she dates Vox but then she catches him positioned with Val and she doesn’t know the extent how Valentino is abusing Vox so then fast forward 7 years later and they meet again because she’s helping Alastor and of course that makes Vox jealous and angry and Vox just wants her back and he’ll do anything to show her that he changed and he just wants her back. And maybe he explains how Val treated him and then a happy ending heheh. 🤭 I love your stories. Also maybe reader is badass and is like doesn’t need a man because she got herself but she also loves when Vox protects her? Kinda like that song on TikTok from Olivia Rodrigo that goes “I’m a feminist obviously but I wouldn’t really mind him saving me”

Vox x Fem! Overlord! Weapons Dealer! Reader | Stayed Gone

(A/n): IM BACCKKKK!!! Sorry this is kind rushed, but it was a really fun write!!! I’m promise I’ll get working on more requests but i’m gonna take it easy to slide back into writing after my little break! Thank you to all of those who supported me through this!! ❤️❤️

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Vox is OOC, Cheating, Violence, Short (sorry :( )

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” (Y/n) said, throwing a wine glass across the room, particularly aiming at the TV who was caught in the act with a certain moth.

“(Y/n), babe, ‘ts not what it looks like I swear-“

“Oh really?” She said, a venomous lilt in her voice,”cause right now it looks like you’re getting screwed by your little business partner? Huh? Am I not right on the money sugar? Oh, but where’s that little sarcastic buzzer now?!”

Vox slipped his pants on, zipping up his fly while trying to walk towards (Y/n)

“I swear, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m..this isn’t…we’re not…”

“Save it.” She said,”This, us, is over. Our business deal is over. And if you even try to negotiate or give me some shitty excuse, this little turf you have will belong to my empire and become my next factory.”

Vox was left, standing here, shirt off and wrinkled pants on, watching as the love of his life took the bare necessities and walked out of his life, all while Valentino watched and smirked at the sight.

—————

7 Years Later

“THAT FUCKER IS BACK!!” Vox screamed, his fists slamming down on the table. A month before (Y/n) walked out, the infamous Radio Demon went MIA, and has now returned to the scene, alongside the Princess of Hell, Charlie Morningstar.

“Yeah” Valentino said, in a sultry voice,”I thought he was gone for good too”

“It’s been seven years!” Vox huffed, turning away from the screen, missing a very crucial person who just walked outside to scope the situation of the attack on the hotel.

“You still pissed he almost beat you that time, right before your little angel walked out~?” Valentino teased, rubbing Vox’s digital cheek on his screen, causing a squeegee noise to be emitted

“Uh, fuck you!”

“Just saying!”

“Things have changed a lot since they both left town!”

“That’s for sure”

“I gotta send a message to who’s, really in charge of things now!!”

“Welcome home, I’m gonna make you wish that you’d stayed gone! Say hello, to a new status quo. Everyone knows that there’s a brand new dawn, turn the TV ON!!!”

“Top of the hour, and we’re discussing a certain ‘has-been’ who has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence! Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight’s program!”

“So the Radio Demon is back in town! Why’s he hanging around? What does that mean for your family? Well handily I’ve got good news, he’s a loser, a fossil, and I don’t mean to sound hostile, but the demon is a coward!”

“You can take that as gospel! Pulling my viewers? Impossible. I’m visual, he’s barely audible! Stop giving him the time of day, don’t listen to a word he’d say! I hope he had a nice vacay, but he should’ve STAYED AWAY!”

“While he rid in radio, we’ve pivoted to video! Now his medium is getting bloody rare!! Hell’s been better since he split! Where’s he been? Who gives a shit!”

“Salutations! Good to be back on the air~!” A familiar, static filled voice responded.

“Yes I know it’s been a while, since someone with style, treated Hell to a proper broadcast. Sinners rejoice!-“

“What a dated voice!-“

“Instead of a clout-chasing, mediocre video podcast-“

“C’mon!”

“Is Vox insecure? Perusing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?”

“Ignore his chirping!”

“Everyday he’s got a new format!”

“You’re looking at the future, he’s the shit that comes before that!”

“Is Vox as strong as he purports? Or is it based on his support? He’d be powerless without the other Vees!”

“Oh please!”

“And here’s the sugar on the cream, he asked me to join his team! I said no, stole his girl, and now he’s pissy, that’s the tea!”

“WHAT?! YOU OLD-TIMEY P-PRICK, ILL SHOW YOU SUF-UF-FFERING!!!!”

“Uh oh, looks like the TV is buffering” A new voice said, mocking Vox’s breakdown. Except it wasn’t a “new” voice, it was (Y/n). (Y/n), with Alastor, at the Hazbin Hotel.”

“ILL DESTROY-Y YOUUUUUU”

“I’m afraid you’ve lost your signal” Alastor said, taking the mic back before finishing his number.

“Let’s begin~”

“I’m gonna make you wish that I’d stayed gone! Tune on in! When I’m done, your status quo will know it’s race is run! Oh this will be fun!”

Vox could hear Alastor laughing alongside (Y/n) in the background, as his monitors start to flash “no signal”

“FUCK!” He whines

————

The gang was all downstairs, Charlie explaining what tomorrows fun activity would be when a loud banging was heard on the door.

“A NEW GUEST!!” Charlie squealed, stars in her pupils, as she ran to go open the door, only to be met with a very tall TV Overlord.

Alastor’s antlers shot out of his head while (Y/n)‘s weapons were at the ready.

“I come with no harm!” Vox said, raising his hands, before locking eyes with (Y/n). His digital eyes made little heart pupils before blinking them away, embarrassed.

“(Y/n)…” he breathlessly said,”I-I know you hate me…but please, I-“

“Save it Vox.”

“I wish I could explain to you that night, or even today, but I can’t! This….deal has my lips sealed shut my love-I mean (Y/n). I-I just…I cannot explain myself with this contract I have.”

“Wait” Angel Dust said,”You’re Valentino’s little situationship, right?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it….”

“Wait….oh shit” Angel said, walking over to him,”I…I know what it’s like…”

“I know…I see you around his studio…I’m not above owning souls, I have my own, but to work with him…? I’d…..I’d free you all in a heartbeat….”

“Vox?” (Y/n) said,”are you in some sort of deal with Val over your…body.”

Vox could only look at her, not able to give her any conformation.

“Oh Vox…I…I didn’t know…I-“

“I know dear…” Vox said, smiling sadly,”but you have a erm….partner, of sorts, not your finest option but whatever, now and I wouldn’t want to intervene-“

“Oh Alastor? Me and him aren’t in a relationship” (Y/n) replied,”You know him, Mr. Ace in the Hole!”

“A what now?-“

“Ohhhhh, that…that explains so much.” Vox said, looking at the Radio Demon.

“Vox…I-I think we need to go home, talk about this in private….after I squish a bug.”

“Okay…” Vox said, holding (Y/n)‘s hand,”but what about this hotel?”

“I’ll still work here, with everyone, I believe in the cause. I just didn’t think you’d want to.”

“Maybe I can….put some ads on if you’d like-“

“YES YES YES PLEASE THANK YOU MR. VOX SIR ID REALLY APPRECIATE IT!!!” Charlie said, shaking Vox’s other hand,”IM CHARLIE!!”

Vox smiled, a genuine smile for the first time in a while,”Yeah, yeah I think I need to hang here a little more often…detox a little…”

“Good, I can’t have you stressed out too much, I just got you back.” (Y/n) said, rubbing his digital cheek affectionately,”my little trophy husband”

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6littlefishes · 3 months ago

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A student (me) read Jekyll and Hyde and said the following: "Jekyll and Utterson are gay for each other and if they had only communicated with each other properly, confessing that they are gay for each other or venting about their shitty lives, and maybe even kissed, it would've solved all of their problems."

To what extent do you agree?

I love Jekyll and Hyde and I've done this text since year 9. But Utterson is too much of a goody-two-shoes, even though he likes which was so obvious, whilst Jekyll... I didn't notice it when I read it, but as I read it and other people's findings, I started to realise their intense relationship.

First, Mr Utterson believes that Jekyll and Hyde are having gay sex and Hyde is blackmailing him (is he jealous or what??). He said Henry is "dreaming and smiling in his dream (or something like that when Mr Utterson has a nightmare". How does he know that he's dreaming and smiling? I know he wants Jekyll to be in peace, but specifically, how does he know that he smiles when he dreams? Does he watch Jekyll sleep at night or what 😭

Then Mr Utterson stalks the guy every second of his free time, in the early hours, when he has broken from being a lawyer and at night, like I know you are concerned about your "friend" but the fact that you spend all your free time stalking him means you really wanna protect that mad scientist and you have nothing to do.

Then Utterson's like "My poor Harry Jekyll" (or something along the lines, idk) in his thoughts. Yes, it's a nickname from when they were friends. It's a nickname, right? No, because when he tries to talk to Henry, he doesn't call him "Harry", he calls him "Jekyll" 😭. Tf does it mean, that Mr Utterson's been repressing his desire to call Jekyll "Harry". Literally, they are close friends/best friends but he's such a pussy and loser to tell Jekyll he wants to be more than that!

Then Mr Utterson's willing to break the law to protect his friend. He knew that Jekyll would be in court for Hyde because his cane was used as a murder weapon and all that, but Utterson bends the law by allowing Jekyll to not come to court and even trusting him that he's fine. 😭

Oh and let's not forget that Utterson describes Jekyll's hands "Now the hand of Henry Jekyll (as you have often remarked) was professional in shape and size: it was large, firm, white, and comely." Now that this is chapter 10 where Mr Utterson read Jekyll's confession. How often does Mr Utterson talk about Jekyll's hands? If the two have a conversation, does Mr Utterson usually like to comment on Jekyll's hands? He likes Jekyll, even his hands. He might as well hold it in his hand man!

Now it's Jekyll's turn (do not think he can get away with him being a pathetic pussy as well!) There isn't a lot I can find. But that stupid doctor would tell Utterson that everything is okay and all that bullshit; like stop repressing your bloody emotions. If you keep doing that you never will have what you wanna do with Utterson. Also, he doesn't want Utterson to get involved. We know that he doesn't like Mr Utterson to judge him for being Hyde and all that stuff. But they have been friends since childhood, which was stated somewhere in chapter 2, and Mr Utterson is non-judgemental. Surely Jekyll did something worse than creating Hyde, right? Also, Jekyll knows that Mr Hyde is dangerous, and knowing that they are best friends and the fact that Jekyll doesn't want Mr Utterson to get involved, it could suggest that Jekyll is trying to protect Utterson from him/Hyde.

I was gonna say about Dr Jekyll giving his entire fortune to Utterson, but it seems that Utterson was the only friend Jekyll can trust at the end of the novella.

If only Jekyll talked to Utterson about his shitty life and confessed to him, this would never have happened in the first place, or Utterson's like "fuck society, I drink gin and wanna watch some shitty plays, I might as well as confess to Jekyll" 😭. LEARN HOW TO COMMUNICATE FOLKS!!

This is all I can find in this novella. If I missed anything please reply, or you can challenge my viewpoint if you want to. I'm sorry I'm literally fixated onto this novella because I love this novella so much.

Overall, I feel like Stevenson wrote this to be more like: Learn how to not repress your feelings and learn how to communicate or you'll end up like these two freaks.

I just realised I just made the title of this post look like a lang paper 1, question 4. If you wanna respond to it as a practice for Jekyll and Hyde and lang paper 1, go ahead (and I would love to read your responses).

Edit: Based on what I said on Gay Sex, let's not forget the gentle language used in the bedroom. "Plucked" all of that. Like imagine having a random man in your room and you use erotic language to describe it? Not to mention in your bedroom, which makes this scene more erotic. Perhaps Utterson is not having a nightmare, but is having sexual fantasies about Jekyll and b coming jealous of Hyde

#henry jekyll #gabriel utterson #dr jekyll and mr hyde #jekyll x utterson #jekyll and hyde #edward hyde #the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde #henry x gabriel #english language #english literature #English GCSE revision #bc that counts #they're so gay for each other and they don't realise it #henriel

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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

Text

in this life or the next (part II)

summary: you and rafe won the 75th annual Hunger Games as a team, but at what cost?

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 11.4k

tags/warnings: not as much as you would expect for a Hunger Games fic honestly. spoilers for the og Hunger Games movies I guess (but also not bc i changed it up a bit- you'll see), Ward being a shitty dad (as per usual). also this isn't thoroughly edited bc.. it's long and i'm still lazy.

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: hi guys! this is part two of this fic, and i'm honestly pretty proud of how this story is coming together!! i hope anyone who enjoyed that one enjoys this one :) also i very much set it up for part three so look forward to that (eventually).

"Without further adieu, I'm pleased to welcome back, from District One and District Five, Rafe Cameron and Y/N Y/L/N, this year's Victors!" The base of the talk show's theme music bellowed in your ears as you followed your cue, holding tightly onto Rafe's hand as you took the stage again. You never imagined you would be back here, but you're grateful to be.

"Rafe, Y/N, I cannot honestly put into words how pleased I am to have you both back with me tonight. We're all so excited to have you- aren't we?" Caesar smiled, riling up the crowd once more as the cheers had died down. Rafe had a smile glued to his face, squeezing your hand once you were both sat down before letting it go.

"We're happy to be back." Rafe replied and you nodded, smiling over at him. He looked so much better- the colour had returned to his skin, a subtle pink flush you didn't care to take notice of before the games.

"I bet you are." Caesar nodded. "We have so much to talk about, but first, I'd like to personally congratulate you both on your win. This was the first-ever games to produce two winners, I hope you understand the extent of your accomplishment."

"Thank you, yeah." You smiled, turning your attention to the man across from you. "I couldn't have done it without him."

"Likewise," Rafe said, gently nudging your shoulder with his hand. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a smile.

"God, I just love your chemistry." Caesar said, smiling and leaning his chin onto his palm. This resulted in more laughs and cheers from the audience. "This is a perfect segue, actually," He sits up straighter again, a slight laugh leaving him. "You were aware that we were all watching, right? Because there were some very real... intense moments between you two in the arena that had us on the edge of our seats. The whole 'will they, won't they' tension was so palpable. So, I think we all just want to know, was it real?"

Rafe nodded, watching the man intently as he listened to him speak. You were both wondering where he was going with that, but while you felt your face burning red, you came up with a logical answer that effectively dodged what he was really asking. "I mean, yeah, of course, such significant amounts of stress on both the body and the mind would make anyone vulnerable in a way you wouldn't expect."

Rafe shifted in his seat, turning his gaze to you as Caesar nodded at your answer. "But with Y/N it was just so easy. She gave me a new perspective on everything, which I appreciate still so greatly. Just, yeah I don't think I could ever see myself sort of... opening up in that way with anyone else." Rafe added, thinking for just a moment before shaking his head with a slight laugh. "I didn't even care that the world was watching, because I knew she was listening, you know?"

A chorus of 'aw's came from the audience and you smiled at him, looking to Caesar quickly to gauge his reaction. His was fairly similar, hand clutched to his chest with a pout in his lip. "Well, there's your answer, folks. It's very real. That is just so sweet." He nods.

"Rafe is right," You chimed in, silence falling over the building. "But truly it is just such a harrowing, scary experience, and up until last year's games we had never seen tributes connecting in a way that we were given the opportunity to, in a similar way to Katniss and Peeta had, the tributes from twelve last year. I think that is a new experience for both the viewer and for us as tributes, and it sets a new standard for the games. I just count myself so lucky that I got chosen to be Rafe's partner, because otherwise we never would have met- or we at least wouldn't have gotten the chance to see each other as real people, with thoughts and feelings and families waiting at home."

When you finished speaking, the silence stuck for a few moments that felt like an eternity. "Well... Yes, I suppose you're right, Y/N." Caesar agreed, but you still felt in your gut that you had said something wrong as the audience murmured and whispered to each other. "I think this is a good time to move on, because Y/N, you just have such a way with words, and we all saw in the games that you have... just one of the most amazing minds we have ever seen in a tribute."

"Isn't it cool?" Rafe added, leaning in and looking between the two of you with a smile on his face. "Caesar, I told you she had a secret weapon!" The audience loved this, instantly coming back to life with laughs and cheers.

"Yes, you did! We definitely didn't expect that!" Caesar chuckles. "So, Y/N, let us in a little bit more- at what point did you realize that the arena was recycled?"

"Oh, immediately." You answered with a nod, folding your hands in your lap. "Honestly by the time I saw the cornucopia for the first time I confirmed it, it was kind of a relief."

He claps his hands together, clearly impressed. "That's incredible! You proved it over and over again. My favorite part was the bag- we were all so confused and I personally got a bit of a laugh when you were trying to point it out to Rafe and he just had this hilarious confused look on his face! From the first thirty seconds, you guys already had this dynamic that had everyone in Panem hooked on watching you. So please, Y/N, tell us what your secret is. How your brain works, if you will."

"Please, Y/N/N." Rafe agreed, mocking Caesar's intrigued posture as he gazes at you waiting for you to elaborate.

You laughed, gently smacking his shoulder. "I just... I don't know. I see something, learn something, whatever the context may be, and then I just know it. I assume it's the same for you, but I just hold on to all the extra stuff. I think I'm broken, or something. I didn't even know this was abnormal until Rafe pointed it out during our training- I just always thought I was smarter than my siblings." You joke, laughing slightly.

"Well, I can only imagine you would be hard to compete with academically with a mind like yours." Caesar chuckled. "So, tell us, what's next for Panem's favourite couple- as I understand you now are."

You and Rafe made eye contact briefly. You hadn't talked about it, despite having hardly left each others sides since you returned. "I don't know." You shrug. "I suppose whatever you guys tell us to do."

"I think we'll go home, see our families, relax a bit and then we'll be back and ready for the victory tour in a few months." Rafe cut in. Had you said something wrong again?

"And we can't wait- we will miss having you guys on our screens everyday, that is for sure." Caesar smiled, standing up which made up your signal to do the same.

"We look forward too seeing you again soon." Rafe smiled, shaking Caesar's hand as you stood up, quickly adjusting your dress in the meantime.

"Thank you so much for joining me tonight, and congratulations again on your win. Enjoy your time at home." Caesar turned to you, giving you a quick hug before you held Rafe's arm and walked offstage, waving to the audience for hopefully the last time in a while.

As you recalled the memory of the last time you saw Rafe in person, you find yourself getting nervous at the idea of seeing him again. It had been a long six months- and you had exchanged an endless string of handwritten letters.

Life for you in the Victor's Village was pleasant, refreshing, even- since it had felt like forever since you had known any kind of peace. It's in a quiet area of town, giving you lots of space to enjoy real fresh air in a way that felt safe. Unfortunately, your vivid nightmares couldn't be quelled by the cool breeze or your sisters sleeping peacefully next to you or the room across the hall.

Rafe had found out that yes, you did sign your name with a heart normally. At least, you did in the many letters he had received from you. It had been the longest six months of his life, but at the same time, a whirlwind of everything happening all at once. Regardless, he spent the entire time walking on eggshells around his father.

When Rafe was reunited with his family, his sister had thrown herself at him with such force he stumbled back when he caught her in his arms, holding her tight with a hand over the back of her head. "I never thought I would see you again..." She mumbled, chin wobbling against his shoulder.

"I missed you so much, Wheeze, you have no idea." He whispered back, gently stroking the back of her hair. He put her down gently, but she refused to let go of his waist as he acknowledged the rest of his family. Sarah, stoic, standing alongside their dad with a matching expression. She, somehow, had a smile behind her eyes that Rafe was all too familiar with. Sarah was happy to see him, though she would never admit it in Ward's presence.

"Rafe." Ward smiled, suddenly, shockingly, only until Rafe realized they had cameras on them as his father walked up and smacked a hand onto his shoulder, guiding him away. District One was proud to have another Victor to add to the growing roster, and they would always celebrate accordingly. Somehow, Rafe didn't feel special.

"Hey, Dad," Rafe replied, smiling nervously as his dad gave his shoulder a squeeze. He knew he was in trouble- big trouble, and maybe staying in the capitol wouldn't have been so bad. He hoped you were facing a more genuine welcome in Five.

"Are you excited to see your girlfriend today?" Sarah asks, bringing him back to reality as she leaned against the entryway to their home gym. To Rafe, their whole house felt cold now. The mansion was decorated mostly in white, with marble flooring and high ceilings that made the home feel so much emptier than he remembered it. Most of the time, he stayed alone at the home he'd been granted in the victors village.

"Yeah. I don't think she's my girlfriend, though." He replies, hardly tearing his eyes away from the combat training equipment that still haunts him.

Sarah furrows her brow accompanying a confused laugh. "What? Only all of Panem sees you as the hottest couple, but you don't know?"

"We never got to talk about it. So, yeah, I don't know."

"Will you ask her?"

Rafe shrugs, getting up from the bench and throwing the towel over his shoulder. "Probably. She's the only good thing I can think about, these days."

"You better get on that. I heard from the news that there's an engagement announcement on the horizon!" Sarah calls, turning on her heel as she heads back down the hall.

Rafe sighs, grabbing his water bottle and heading out after her. He's wanted to talk about this, of course, but in the victor's interview you mentioned that anyone would be so vulnerable with all that stress- and he couldn't help but be a little hurt by that. Then again, you've sent him letter after letter since you had been apart, so the signals he's getting are mixed- to say the least.

As he changes into the clothes his dad picked out for him for the first day of the Victory Tour, he hopes that seeing you again will bring only good memories. Not that there are many to choose from- but something in his gut is telling him that you will be the cure to his nightmares, or at the very least, someone to talk to about everything, even if it's just for a few months a year. Forever.

You're standing at the train station, surrounded by your family and an array of cameras, everyone anxiously awaiting the two of you being reunited. It's unknown to you if he will even get off the train, part of you hopes that he doesn't so your sisters don't get the chance to bug him. "He'll be happy to see you, hey?" Your mom interrupts your thoughts, nudging you gently with her elbow.

"Maybe." You shrug, pulling at the loose strings on the hem of your dress. "I don't know, I don't want to go. I'd rather stay home, Mom."

"I know, sweetheart... And we'll miss you." She sighs, kissing the side of your head and pulling you close with an arm around your shoulders. "But maybe it'll be nice to talk to him. He must understand you better than we can, these days."

"I don't know about that." You say softly, gazing down the tracks at the sound of the train quickly approaching. You take a deep breath, turning to hug your sisters so you have time. You were on a very tight schedule already, Opal was making sure of that. The train couldn't leave a minute late- even though you're sure that you and Rafe may be precious cargo, considering you're the only ones on it, spare for your teams, and the only reason the train is making this journey at all.

"I'll bet he jumps out of the train and tackles you to the ground because he missed you so, so, soooo much!" Your youngest sister giggles, clinging tightly to your arm.

You decide not to acknowledge it, eyes locked on the silver metal as it pulls up in front of you. "Don't say anything to him, you best leave him alone." Your dad reminds her, peeling her from your arm and into his side instead.

The door slides open, and just as you're lifting your one bag you're met with Rafe. Seeing him for the first time in person for months is shocking. He looks tired- you guess he's been having nightmares too. "Y/N.." He says, almost breathlessly as he leans against the door of the train.

"Hi." You whisper, giving him the best smile you can muster. Truly, you are happy to see him, but you do know he has to put on a show of the two of you being reunited. He jumps down, taking three large strides toward you before pulling you close and burying his face in your hair. "I'm so happy to see you."

"Me too." He mumbles, letting you go after a moment.

"Welcome to District Five, I guess." You laugh nervously, gesturing around you.

"Thank you, I've never been here before," Rafe explains, rather unnecessarily. "The ride was beautiful."

Opal is trying to usher you from behind the camera to move onto the train, and Rafe's hand is hanging at his side, fingers brushing gently over your arm. You get the message, just about to finally wave off your family for a second time. "Wait, hold on." Your dad cuts you off, stopping you both in your tracks.

"Thank you, Son." He nods, holding out his hand to Rafe. You can see his chin wobble, but you can also see that he's trying to keep a brave face for the cameras. Your family had been warned to not speak to him, to just say goodbye and let you walk onto the train since your reunion would be telecasted live- but he just couldn't let Rafe get away without him knowing how much he appreciated him saving you.

Rafe takes his hand and shakes it, returning the nod. "I would have died before taking her from you." They would have a less formal opportunity to meet towards the end of the tour when you revisited Five for a big celebration in both of your honour. You were already dreading it. Anyway, now, they only really had time for pleasantries. Not even that, if they were to follow Opal's schedule.

Cameras are quickly cut, and you wave goodbye now as you're actually forced onto the train. "Gosh, you two, we have places to be. Seriously." Opal says sternly, walking on behind you along with your stylist's team.

It's only a little while until you were talking again, like you had never been apart- and like everything was normal. Until, as the sun set over the mountains in District Eleven, you both got quiet, looking out the array of windows in the very last car.

"I'm glad to see you normally sign your name with a heart."

"Huh?"

"Uh, in the cave. You put your name on the wall, with a little heart beside it. I remember wondering if you normally write your name like that, and you do."

"Oh, yeah. When I'm signing something, I guess." You agree with a slight shrug. After a few moments of comfortable silence, both of you staring out the window over the tracks, you continue. "We're going to get in trouble. About what you said to my dad."

"I meant it," Rafe replies, not missing a single beat.

"Did Snow come to see you too?" You ask.

"Yeah." He nods. "I don't really care though, what can he do to me that he hasn't already done, you know?"

"He'd go after your sisters."

"He mentioned something about that. He won't, though. He's just trying to scare us into smiling for the cameras."

"I don't know..." You sigh. "I'd rather not risk it. Play it safe."

"You'll be doing that for the rest of your life, and he'll only demand more and more." Rafe shakes his head at you, reaching out and taking your hand. "With whatever is happening in the districts, he wouldn't run the risk of hurting our families. Your family, in particular. Panem loves your family, you gave them security by speaking so highly of them in the games, and they bought their own by spending all that money to send both of us something from home. He couldn't touch them without the whole country losing their minds."

"What? What's happening in the districts?" All you had seen on TV was reruns of your interviews and highlight reels of your own games. You tried not to watch much TV.

Rafe's eyes flicker with confusion as he scans your face. After a moment he realizes that of course, you wouldn't know. He only knows because of his dad- the news was so heavily censored in the outlying districts that there's no doubt you wouldn't have heard about the uprisings. "I-uh... My dad told me some stuff. There's been a couple of uprisings, nothing serious, but still. He wants us to keep them happy." He decidedly leaves out the fact that people in farther districts, outside of your own, are really not your biggest fans.

"Oh... Well, I'll try my best. Do you know what they were about?"

"No, uh, I don't know much about it. Sorry." Rafe mumbles, dropping your hand to push himself up from the couch. "I should probably get some sleep. You too."

Looking at how dark it is outside now, he's probably right. You have a long couple of weeks ahead, starting tomorrow. Starting it off with a full night's sleep would no doubt be beneficial- and who knows what time Opal will be waking you up in the morning.

You stretch out your arms as you stand up, yawning as you follow Rafe out the door and toward your cabin where your things are waiting for you.

It's not long after a quick shower that you pass out in bed, already tired and lulled to sleep by the steady movement of the train. And it's not long after that until you're standing on the silver pedestal that typically haunts your dreams yet again.

You look around, trying desperately to put together the pieces of where you are. You can't. You can, everything looks the same, but there's a feeling of panic in your gut that tells you you don't know a thing as the timer ticks down in front of you, the sound echoing throughout the arena.

Your head snaps to the left when you hear someone yelling for you. Your sister. She looks pale, you can practically see her shaking from where you're standing. She's yelling at you still, but you can't make out what she's saying as you realize that it isn't just her. Your whole family is there, and no sign of Rafe.

How are you supposed to do this without him?

The timer reaches zero, and the alarm blades signaling the games have begun. You're quick to sprint for your youngest sister, your first goal being getting her away. As you reach her you look back toward the cornucopia, blood already sprayed across the side of the glistening metal and bodies on the ground. Exactly the way it was last time.

"We have to get you out of here. We have to go south, we have to-" You're cut off by her freezing, stumbling back, and falling into the grass.

You call for her in a panic, looking back over your shoulder. You have nothing. There's nothing you can do to help as she chokes on blood from the knife now embedded in her chest.

It was you. You're standing there, a sick smile on your face with dropped shoulders- you had thrown it. Just how Rafe had taught you.

You wake up to the sound of your own screaming, sitting up quickly and kicking off your blanket. Your hair is stuck to your forehead as you scramble to place your surroundings. It wasn't real. It felt so real.

"Y/N?" You look up to the door in a panic as Rafe pushes the door open, brows furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"

His presence starts to calm you almost instantly. "Yeah, just a dream." You say breathlessly. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

"I couldn't sleep anyway." He insists, stepping in and closing the door. "Can I stay?"

You just nod, sliding over to make room for him.

Rafe pads across the floor, climbing in bed next to you and laying down, getting comfortable as you lay facing each other. Your heart is still racing. You still see your sister suffering at your own hand.

Without saying a word, Rafe reaches up, hesitating for a moment before brushing your hair back from your forehead. "I get nightmares too." He whispers, settling his hand on your cheek, gently brushing over your skin with his thumb.

"I'm sorry." You whisper back, eyes still open as you try and look at him in the dark.

He knows you're not apologizing as if it's your fault, more so saying you wish that neither of you were plagued with the memories of what you had been through. "Me too." He whispers, finally closing his eyes. Maybe now, with you here, he'll feel safe enough to get a full night of sleep without being interrupted by the screams of the kids that he killed.

You wake up with another jolt when the door flies open, slamming against the wall. "Oh, thank god. Rafe! What are you doing in here? Get up, hurry. We've spent far too much time searching the train for you." You blink a few times, rubbing your eyes as you process the harsh awakening by his escort, Zara.

"I'm up..." Rafe grumbles from beside you, taking a deep breath in with his head pressed against your back and an arm over your waist.

"God, you scared me. Now come on, we're already late." She says, standing and holding the door, waiting for him to get moving.

He sighs in response, and you feel a rush of cold air as he leaves you, stretching as he gets up and follows Zara out of the room. The train has stopped moving, you notice this quickly as you get up yourself. It's safe to assume Opal is waiting for you as well.

Walking out onto the stage of District Twelve is humbling, to say the very least. They are among the poorest of Panem's districts, even District Five seems like the Capitol compared to this. The pedestals in front of us display images of the four tributes behind where their families stand. It is all too real as you stand there in front of a large crowd in yet another uncomfortable dress.

Rafe holds your hand as you walk out, scanning over the crowd too. Even his already fake smile begins to fade at the sight and he looks pale. He's clutching your speech cards in his other hand, and you clock how it's slightly shaking from nerves as you are directed to begin speaking and he raises the cards.

"We are united as Panem is united. Our love has opened our eyes to the greatness of our country." You can tell in his voice he's trying to maintain his charismatic charm, but it's failing him. He can't tear his eyes away from the tributes' families, recognizing the faces on the screens behind them. One of the girls stands out, and he shakes away her voice in his head begging him to spare her life with her leg caught in the trap he asked you to set. He adjusts his focus to the mountains in the distance before he continues. "Love illuminates the truth-"

"You're standing where Katniss and Peeta should be!" He's interrupted by someone shouting from the crowd. It's easy to pick out the voice in the sea of people. A boy, a few years older than you with dark hair and a strong build. He's worked his whole life, no doubt. There's a blonde girl next to him- Prim. Katniss's sister, who she had volunteered for last year.

Rafe is frozen, staring at them for a moment before looking back to Zara, who gestures for him to continue. He's squeezing your hand now, tighter. "That's her sister." You whisper to him before he gets the chance to speak again. "May I?"

He looks down at you, silently asking if you're sure. Secretly, Rafe is relieved. You nod to him again and he hands you the cards. You don't need them, so you place them down on the pedestal in front of you.

"I understand the tremendous loss your community has faced at the hands of these games. And I am sorry." Rafe taps your arm, watching you now as you speak. You look up at him briefly and he nods to you. "We are sorry." You correct, reading from him that that is what he wanted.

"We can't fix the past, but I can tell you that without Spruce, Fletcher, Trilly, and Cerise we wouldn't be standing here today. We are forever in debt to them, and to you, for something that we didn't want to take in the first place." You pause, clearing your throat as you feel a tightness in your chest. "I never knew Katniss or Peeta, but watching them at home inspired me, and remember wondering when I watched Katniss volunteer for little Prim if I would do the same for my sisters, and as much as I love them I realized that I don't know if I ever could. And then, at the end, when she and Peeta both chose to die rather than live without each other, rather than pumping out another victor from the games- I was in awe. Of their bravery, and of their sacrifice. I thought I could never do that. They were braver than me."

You stare around the silent crowd, aiming to memorize every face. "Then I met Rafe, and I finally understood them. We would have done the same, but we were given a greater opportunity. I don't know why it was us and not them, and what we did to deserve our lives again, but I am truly sorry that it wasn't them." You spit out, choking over every word.

"It's because he's one of them!" The same boy shouts, pointing at Rafe and you notice peacekeepers shoving their way through the crowd toward him.

Rafe swallows the lump in his throat, keeping a straight face as he looks out at the boy.

"We are sorry that you lost loved ones." You say again, looking up at him briefly.

Before you can continue, Rafe is moving you aside to speak again. "I will donate half of my winnings to the families of our fallen tributes, as well as the families of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. It is the very least I can do, and I know that it won't bring them back, but I am sorry."

Rafe sees the peacekeepers quickly approaching and he wraps one arm around you, holding the other out towards them. "Hey, hey! Don't touch her, we'll go." He says, letting the peacekeepers guide you back off of the stage and out of view as chaos breaks out in the crowd.

"Y/N Y/L/N are you crazy?" Opal is there quickly, looking like she is ready to smack you if she didn't know better.

"What? What did I do?" You ask, panic evident in your voice as you hear shots firing outside.

"She just said what she thought they wanted to hear." Rafe defends you, but even he knows you messed up. In the eyes of the President, anyways.

"Yes, but that is the exact opposite of what Snow wants to hear! And you! Offering them his money? Did you think that was smart?"

"I- I don't know, I didn't know what to do and lord knows I don't need it! They can have it all for all I care." Rafe sighs, shaking his head dismissively.

"Rafe! You were given explicit instructions to keep the peace! Your father is going to be furious, you realize that right?" Zara intervenes.

"Instructions to what, sell this 'against all odds love story'? They want us together so they can brainwash Panem into thinking that privileged districts and the stupid Capitol can get along with the others, and that we're all a big happy family, but its all bullshit. I don't want to be a part of that and I never asked to be." Rafe shouts at her, and Opal gasps as you look away.

"I'll- uhm, yeah. Right. Opal, can you come with me back to the train? I want to leave." You mumble.

She glares at Rafe as she places a hand on your back, leading you toward the exit with peacekeepers following to escort you out of the building.

Heartbreak wasn't exactly on your bingo card for the first day of the victory tour. At least you got your answers, though. Rafe wants nothing to do with you, and now you can go about the rest of your life being forced to pretend you're in love. Great.

The tour continues as scheduled. Every day, occasionally with a day of travel time in between, you find yourself standing on a stage, a smile glued to your face, reading from a script with your hand wrapped around one belonging to a boy who couldn't care less about you. It's torturous.

The day finally comes, after cycling painfully through all the other districts that you make it to the first of two big parties, you're finally home.

"Y/N, Honey, welcome home." Your mom greets you at the door with a hug.

"I missed you." You mumble, pulling her into a hug. She shuts the door behind you as you step away, looking outside for just a moment.

"Where's Rafe?"

"He's staying down the road." You mumble, avoiding eye contact with her and stalking up to your room.

You feel guilty about being grateful for the many empty houses in the victor's village, allowing him his own place to stay instead of staying with you.

You have a few hours of peace before Opal will come with your stylist to prep you and your family for the party and address that's happening tonight, and the one thing on your agenda before then is a good, long nap.

A good, long nap, however, was not something on your sister's agenda, and it was only a matter of minutes before she was barging into your room.

"Y/N! How come Rafe isn't here?" She asks aptly, throwing herself onto your bed next to you.

"He's busy." You grumble, pulling the blankets tighter around yourself.

"Oh, like you? So busy right now you can't say hi to your favourite sister?"

"You're not my favourite."

"Rude." She makes herself at home in your bed, curling up next to you. For the first three months you were home, she didn't leave your side. She had slept in your bed every night, uncomfortable both with the move and her new room away from the one you had previously shared, and also with the idea of losing you again. "Did you kiss him?" She giggles once she's settled in, whispering despite the first time you kissed Rafe being broadcast on national television for the whole country to see.

"No." You whisper back, feeling tears prick at your eyes. "He hates me."

"What? How? I need more details than that, I'm sure he doesn't hate you."

"It was all fake. To get people to like us, to make us win and now to keep Snow from coming after our families." You say quietly, finding it difficult to admit your naivety to even yourself. "He never meant any of it."

Your sister is shocked, jaw slack with your explanation. She's only sixteen, but you can see the gears turning in her head. She loves a romance book, and growing up in a house where your parent's hands were rarely disconnected has built her into somewhat of a relationship expert. Or so she thinks, at least. "No. No, that's not true."

"It is, he said it."

"Exactly like that? What were his exact words?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"I don't remember."

"You're lying. There's not a thing anyone has ever said to you that you've forgotten." She insists. "But, fine, I guess it doesn't matter because I know it's not true. I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not watching. He's so in love with you it's absurd. Trust me."

You sigh, pulling the blanket away from your face to look up at her. "Don't say that."

"Why? I'm right."

You sniffle, wiping your eyes on the sheet before explaining. "He said we're being forced together to prove something to the public, and he never wanted to be a part of that."

"I knew you were lying." Your sister smiles, pushing your hair back from your face. "But that means nothing. Less than nothing! I wasn't there, but he probably meant that he doesn't want to be together just to be a public spectacle, or to push some agenda that's not his own. That says nothing about how he truly feels about you."

"I don't know..." You reply, skeptical of her thought process. "You should have seen him. He was so angry-"

"At you?"

"Well, no-"

"Then it wasn't about you." She assures you, tucking herself into the blanket. "We'll have a nap, and then you'll talk to him tonight."

"I don't think that's a good idea." You protest.

"It is. Now shh, I'm napping." She hums, eyes already closed as she drapes her arm over your side.

The exhaustion took over and you did end up falling asleep, your sisters breath on your face calming you enough to get some well-needed rest.

You're woken up abruptly, thrown into a show dress that is at least comfortable enough to breathe in, and after being smothered in makeup and hair fried, you're pushed out of the door and into a car.

This address will be hard. You know Jack's family, and to see them standing on the pedestal across from you, behind the crowd, leaves you sick just at the thought of it. Maisie's as well, though you were far from responsible for her death. Again, the idea of why it was you and not them crosses your mind. At this point, you doubt it will ever stop.

Standing backstage, waiting for your queue, Rafe approaches you hesitantly. He knows you're angry, but over the last couple of weeks, you haven't given him a moment to explain. He wishes he could just explain.

"Do you want me to take the lead on this one?" He asks, adjusting the collar of his shirt as he takes his spot next to you, suit tailored to match your dress.

"No. I've got it." You reply coldly, eyes locked on the door ahead of you.

Rafe sighs, reaching out to grab your hand, as was your routine now. You can hear the introductions on stage ahead of you, the audience quieting down. At least this time, the district is mostly celebrating a local win, rather than mourning the senseless deaths of four of their children. This time, it's only three.

You take his hand, building up the energy to smile. You're happy, and you're happy together. Convincing your home district will be harder because, for the rest of your life, you have to keep up this show.

"Can we talk later?" Rafe whispered, leaning down and your skin tingled with the contact of his breath.

"Okay." You say, tone hardly audible as the doors open for you. Let the show begin.

You both smile and wave your way onto the stage, for the first time being met with cheers rather than blank stares. It's refreshing until you see Jack's parents adorning their little stage at the back. You wish they looked angrier, like they believed you were responsible. For some reason, you feel like they don't.

You don't realize people are waiting for you to speak until Rafe does for you, once again ignoring the queue cards.

"District Five, thank you for welcoming me into your community. I have never been here before, but when I say it is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, I mean it." He smiles, clearing his throat while the people clap. "I also want to say thank you, because without the sacrifice of your people, I wouldn't be standing here today. That means the world to me, more than I can ever express."

You chew on your lip, scanning across the back and finally seeing your own family. Their presence brings you a comfort you didn't know you needed so badly. "And to Y/N's family, thank you, truly, for raising your daughter into the incredible girl that she is. Without her, there is no chance I could have survived. She saved me. I can never repay you for what you have given me." You watch as your dad pulls your mom close with an arm around her shoulder, hugging her. She looks like she's going to cry, your dad does too.

You try not to laugh as your sister stands with her arms crossed, shaking her head at you, a smug smile on her face. "I told you." You read her lips, and you shake your head back at her.

"Okay, okay, thank you, Rafe." You chuckle, taking the mic from him. "I would just like to say, I am so lucky to be back, and thank you to all of you for being such amazing, supportive people my whole life. It takes a village, they say, and I know I was enough of handful for the whole village to be sick of." You shrug, pulling some laughs from the audience. "I also want to say, to Maisie, Jack, and Caylen's families, I am truly sorry for your loss, but they fought hard. I hope you are proud of who they were. And Mr and Mrs Kyle, I hope you know I never wanted to hurt Jack. I'm so sorry I ever did." You finish, taking a step back to signal that you were done.

Rafe drops your hand to gently rub your back as your eyes are once again trained on his parents. They're crying, of course, as are you, but as his mom nods at you, you feel an incredible weight lifted off your shoulders. One death you felt so personally responsible for, and their family was kind enough to forgive you. Rafe hasn't been so lucky, you've seen it first hand. As you guessed, he is sick about it. Somehow, seeing Jack's family offer you that moment of forgiveness makes him feel better, too, knowing that you won't be suffering the way he is forever.

"Remember, this is your day. Everyone is here to celebrate you, dear." Opal reminds you, gently smoothing the front of your dress back at your home, getting changed for the party. "I am so proud of you."

You smile, for some reason finding yourself fighting off tears. "Thank you, for everything. I know I wasn't always pleasant to be around."

"No one expected you to be." She assures you, planting a kiss on your cheek. "My beautiful victor..."

You look up as there's a knock on the door to your room. "Rafe is here, can we let him in?" One of your stylists assistants says through the wood and Opal answers before you get the chance.

"Yes, let him in." You give her a look and she chuckles, placing her hands on your shoulders. "He's been dying to talk to you, dear. We'll give you a few minutes, and we'll be right outside."

You sigh, nodding as the door gets pushed open. "Rafe! Dear, you look so handsome." Opal smiles at him, patting his shoulder as her and your stylist shuffle out, letting Rafe in and closing the door behind themselves.

Of course, you would be matching his outfit. By now you anticipated it, but Rafe's suits never failed to impress you. It was almost entirely white, with gold cuffs and collars, and somehow, the shoes were a gold leather as well. All matched perfectly to the accents on your dress, and you wonder if his suit alone cost more than the house you grew up in. It's likely.

"You look beautiful." He breaks the silence, smiling at you nervously.

"Thanks.. You too. Handsome. I mean, white suits you."

He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've missed you." He says, looking at you intensely to gauge your reaction. "Look, if... I did something I'm sorry. I was hoping we could talk, I want to fix things."

"If you did something." You scoff, nodding. You can't help but laugh a little bit.

"Okay, I did something. That's obvious, then. Okay." Rafe says, wracking his brain to figure out exactly where he went wrong. He has a good idea, because you ghosted him immediately after his fight with Zara and Opal in Twelve, but they had both forgiven him, understanding that he wasn't upset with them personally. "How do I fix it?"

"Oh, you want to fix it? That's rich. Truly."

"Y/N, I don't understand. You have to level with me, please." He begs, brow furrowed with upset now.

"You wouldn't want the Capitol to think we're fighting, right? You had a change of heart?" You ask rhetorically, grabbing a drink from the cart they moved into your room.

"Please, just spell it out for me. I can't go on like this, I almost lost you once. I'm not doing it again."

You sigh, the desperation in his voice forcing you to be more empathetic. "Okay, Rafe. Fine. You told them that you wanted nothing to do with this relationship. Right in front of me. I don't understand why you couldn't grasp that that hurt me, but if it wasn't clear, I really care about you."

Rafe looks down, staring at the carpet as he listens, nodding as he connects the dots. "Oh- oh! Oh, no, I didn't mean that. You have to know I didn't mean that, Y/N, come on!"

"Then why would you say it?" Your tears are threatening to return now as your voice shakes.

"Okay, I mean, I meant it, but that has nothing to do with you."

"Nothing to do with me? It has everything to do with me!"

"No, it doesn't." Rafe insists, stepping closer to you now. You can't bring yourself to back away. You've missed having him close. "I meant I don't want to be with you just so they can have a new front page couple. I meant I want to be with you because I want to be with you. Because I love you, not because they want me to love you."

You freeze, thinking over what he said. His I love you echoing in your mind like you're standing in a wind tunnel. "I... What?"

"Y/N," Rafe chuckles, reaching up now and holding your face in his large hands. "You are the smartest person I have ever met in my life, but sometimes, you are so dumb."

You can't help but giggle at that, shaking your head slightly. Rafe looks at you like you're holding his world in your hands. "Do you mean it?" You ask after a few moments.

"I've never meant anything more." You can feel his breath on your skin for the second time in one day, and you don't think you can go without it for another. You're sure your heart stops beating for a moment as he thumbs over your bottom lip, and just as you're sure you could throw up from how pretty he looks up close, you're pulling on the front of his jacket to close the gap between you.

It works, beautifully, and despite your confidence in the moment, he's very gentle. You've kissed before, sure, but you were both pumped so full of adrenaline that you couldn't stop laughing long enough to enjoy it- and that's looking past the fact that he was likely moments from death; thank god for the anti-venom the peacekeepers brought on board.

You hold tight onto his jacket, likely to keep your knees from buckling under you as his lips pass over yours, over and over again. "I love you too." You mumble into his skin, and you can feel him smiling against you.

"Kids? It's awfully quiet in there! Not to interrupt but we are on a deadline here!" Opal calls through the door, knocking on it gently with a gloved hand.

At the intrusion you practically jump apart, sighing a breath of relief when she doesn't open the door. "Okay, coming! Just one second." You reply, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice as you gather your things.

You don't know why you're desperate to avoid suspicion, but you're pulling the door open before either of you say anything else to each other. You both know you're okay, and that's what matters.

"Oh! Good, you're ready to go? Let's get moving." Opal nods at you as you pass her, cheeks burning. "Oh my, absolutely not!" She gasps, and you turn to see as Rafe walks out and she's producing a small linen from her bag and wiping off his mouth for him.

"I can do it..." Rafe mumbles, grabbing it from her to remove the rest of your lipstick from around his mouth as you both feel your faces turning red.

Unfortunately, you were only allowed time for one night at home before you moved on to the last uncovered district in your tour, District One.

"Are you excited to be home?" You ask Rafe, once again curled up in the back train car looking at the view. You've got a blanket draped over both of you, your legs falling over his lap.

"I really liked your brother. He's cool." Rafe dodges the question tactfully, and it's not lost on you that he doesn't want to talk about his home. "And your sister was hilarious."

"Yeah," You scoff, shaking your head. "I don't know who gave her Posca, but they shouldn't have. She was drunk out of her mind."

"Isn't she fifteen?"

"Sixteen actually, her birthday was last month." You laugh, dropping your head back onto the armrest behind you. "Be honest though, if you were given that opportunity at sixteen wouldn't you take it?"

Rafe shrugs, running his hand up and down your thigh. "Probably not, my dad would throw a tantrum."

"Is he strict?"

"Extremely."

"Oh. Still? I mean, one, you're eighteen- you're not a kid anymore, and two, shouldn't he just be happy you're alive? Even if that means you're drinking underage?"

"You would think." Rafe sighs, patting your leg gently. "Our reputation is his number one priority. Not his kids."

"I see." You nod softly. "That must be hard for you."

"Well, it's all I've ever known. So it's not that bad. I just worry about my sisters."

"I would too." You agree. "But, they have you. That makes all the difference."

"I try to. He wants them to volunteer, though. The only thing better for his business than one kid in the games is two, and the entertainment factor in that is valuable." Without any cameras around to record your every move, for one of the first times ever, Rafe can speak more candidly to you about it. And it is such a relief.

"That is just... so unfathomable to me." You reply. "Not to disrespect him, or anything, I mean all the respect for who he is and what he does, but I just can't imagine why he wouldn't prioritize your lives more. Especially after your mom..." You trail off here, realizing that's a door only he should open. You had seen a profile of him on the news, as a matter of fact your whole family sat down to watch it together after you got home. You don't know details of what happened, but they mentioned that she passed when he was ten. It broke your heart.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to..." You try and correct yourself, feeling him tense up under you as he stares out the window across from you.

"It's okay." Rafe insists, relaxing himself again to continue tracing patterns on your leg. "You're right. It is kind of backwards. I never got that before, but after going through what we did... I wouldn't ever want my sisters to get pushed through the same turnstile. You know?"

"Of course." You nod softly, grabbing his hand off your leg and holding it.

"Anyway, my mom never wanted us to volunteer. She stood out that way, people looked down on her because of it. Then she got sick and... yeah." Rafe continues and you squeeze his hand.

"I'm sorry, truly." You say, tone gentle.

"It happens." Rafe shrugs. "I admit, I was disappointed when Sarah didn't get picked with me. Especially with the team aspect, and I'm surprised that she didn't, but now I'm so glad she wasn't. Not to say she wouldn't have been a strong competitor. If she gets picked next year I guarantee she will win, actually." He says, smiling fondly with a shake of his head. "I've tried talking her out of volunteering, but she hasn't budged. She wants to please Ward, and I get that. I just hope she has the strength that I didn't."

"That's hard. I mean, at least I don't have to convince my sisters not to volunteer. They wouldn't do it if we begged them to, not that we ever would. Obviously." You chuckle, and Rafe does too. "Maybe... Would you mind if I talked to her? I have a way with little sisters."

"By all means." Rafe nods. "Good luck, though."

"I have a question." You say, after a moment of silence between the two of you, the train rattling over the tracks below you with an almost unsettling smoothness.

"Shoot."

"Since so many people volunteer, doesn't that take away the purpose of volunteering? Do they put all the volunteers into a bowl and draw names anyway? How do they pick?"

Rafe laughs, dropping your hand to reach out and ruffle your hair. "You will see."

It isn't long before you start pulling into One. It looks like a mini Capitol, but with more mansions and less giant buildings, it was extravagant nonetheless. Your face was practically glued to the window the whole drive in, as Rafe pointed out who lived where, and any landmarks you passed. It was fascinating, and you wished you were on speaking terms when you arrived in Five. There would have been lots to share.

You can't help but note that his family wasn't there to greet the train, at least you don't think they were- there was a crowd of strangers there waiting excitedly, along with more security to escort you and your teams away from the station.

Everyone there seemed to be a fan, particularly of Rafe's, and this was a comforting change of pace.

Rafe watches you with a fond smile as you stop, crouching down to talk to a little girl who wiggled past security and pulled on the bottom of your dress.

"This is for you, Miss Y/N." She says, so quietly you can hardly hear her over the sound of shuttering cameras and shouting in your direction.

You take the small flower from her and smell it. "It's beautiful, thank you, hun." You smile, taking it and tucking it behind your ear. "What's your name?"

"Clara."

"Clara, that's such a lovely name. Thank you for coming to say hi."

"Can I give you a hug?"

You nod, opening your arms to the little girl who practically falls into your lap, hugging you right around your neck. "When I grow up I'm going to be just like you. I'm gonna win." She says as you let her go, and your heart drops in your stomach.

Your smile falters and you nod at her a little. "Stay safe, okay?" You settle on, gently pushing her hair out of her eyes and standing up as Rafe places his hand on your shoulder, signalling it was really time to go.

You ease the girl back to her waiting parents, before standing upright and joining Rafe, waving to people as you follow him to the car, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling you're left with after that interaction.

The speech in District One was easier, similar to District Two, where people seemed happy to see you- more careless of the lives of young people they had lost. To them, it was an honour to go, even if you never returned home. That's where you first laid eyes on Rafe's sisters, and you could see immediately the difference he was telling you about.

Sarah looked much more like him, and Wheezie like their father, you could only guess that their mother had the dirty blonde hair and blue eyes she passed onto her oldest children.

At the party, it wasn't long before you saw her again, despite the large property and the sea of guests. Pretty much the moment you walked in, Ward was on the two of you with the girls in tow.

"Y/N! It is so good to meet you." He smiles, reaching out to shake your hand which you quickly oblige.

"You as well, Mr. Cameron."

"Please, call me Ward. All my friends do." He grins, nodding to the two girls with him. "These are my daughters, Sarah and Louise."

You try and introduce yourself, but you hardly get past a smile before he's ushering the group of you along. "There are loads of people who have been looking forward to meeting you. Come with me."

You just smile and nod, Rafe staring blankly at his dad as he leads the way.

You meet lots of people, and despite your average height you feel like they're looking down on you. No doubt you're seen as somewhat of a freeloader- carried through the games by Rafe's strength and training, but despite this, Ward introduces you to every last person as Rafe's girlfriend. Not that you mind, you had to assume that's what you were. He didn't seem bothered by it, so neither would you.

"I'm off to grab a drink, care to join?" Sarah offers, linking her arm with yours after what must have been the twenty-fifth new person in the last hour.

"I'd like that." You agree, giving a slight wave to Rafe who nods in approval before you're gone.

"It's a lot. I'm sorry." Sarah says, smile on her face as she guides you through the crowd.

"No, it's nice. I like meeting new people."

"No you don't." Sarah cuts you off, and you can tell it's not with bitter intentions.

"Not really, no." You cave and agree, laughing quietly.

"Rafe told me that. He said you didn't talk the first few days he knew you."

"That's not true." You laugh, correcting her quickly. "Not entirely. I was in shock, I guess."

Sarah shrugs, dropping your arm as you reach the bar. Before either of you say anything the bartender, an avox clad in the standard red uniform, places two drinks in front of you.

"Thank you." You smile, lifting the glass. They just nod and quickly move on as Sarah grabs her drink as well.

You sneak off into a somewhat quiet corner, where you can sit and talk without too many people overhearing. "Rafe speaks very highly of you, I was looking forward to meeting you." You offer as you both sit down at an empty couch.

"Now that," Sarah laughs, coughing slightly on her drink. "Is a shock."

"What?" You laugh. "No way, he loves you."

"No." Sarah shakes her head, gesturing across the room to where she's spotted her family. "He loves Wheezie. I'm just around."

You look over to where she pointed, seeing Rafe standing with his sister as they discreetly jab each other in the side while Ward is talking to yet another "important" friend. Rafe is trying to hide his smile, keep it professional, but he's cracking.

"He loves you too. Just as much." You insist. "Are you open to my theory?" You ask, looking at her as she returns her gaze to you, raising a questioning brow.

"Please." She tilts her glass toward you, urging you to continue.

"I think you guys are a lot alike. And that scares him because he doesn't want you to be like him." You say confidently, polishing off the statement with a sip of the champagne in your hand.

"That..." Sarah takes a drink before continuing. "Is not an entirely bad theory."

"Are you going to volunteer?" You ask, deciding to get right to it. Sarah doesn't seem like the type to dance around what she wants to say, she's confident in every statement she makes. She truly does remind you of Rafe when you first met him.

"Did Rafe ask you to talk me out of it?"

"No. I offered." You reply honestly. "But really I'm just curious. He does tend to be kind of biased these days."

"I see." Sarah nods, thinking on it for a moment. "Tell him I haven't decided yet."

"I have two sisters, both your age and Wheezie's, but I also have an older brother. I see myself in both of you." You explain. "I think you should do what feels right to you. Not to Rafe and me, or to Ward, or to anyone, really. But if you did ask me, I would tell you I would volunteer again somehow if it meant sparing my sisters. I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

Sarah listens to you intently. Whether her reaction shows it or not, you can tell she's really thinking about it. That's all you could ask for. "All the fame and the money it could bring your family isn't worth Wheezie's life, so why would it be worth yours?" You add.

"Would you give it up now if it meant you would have never met my brother?" She follows up with a simple question, but it stumps you.

"I don't know." You answer honestly, watching him again across the room. "But he was the only good thing to come out of it."

The air is warm in the Capitol, and you're not sure whether to attribute that to the humidity of polluted and stuffed air, or the several fire features decorating the President's property lawn where you're attending yet another party in your honour. It feels far from welcoming.

You can't bring yourself to drink, despite how tempting it is to drown out the evening in bottles of whatever alcohol they're handing out on seemingly endless trays of crystal glasses.

You're clinging to Rafe's arm, accepting compliments from people who look like they've never known any kind of trauma in their lives. The way the Capitol elite feel entitled to every detail of your life makes you nauseous.

"Thank you everyone for coming." The President's voice is booming suddenly over speakers you can't see, and everyone's attention is drawn to where he's standing on the balcony overlooking the property. "It is my honour to host our most recent victors here with us tonight, Rafe Cameron and Y/N Y/L/N!" He stops to allow applause as you smile awkwardly and nod to those around you, waiting anxiously for him to continue. You just want to get this over with.

"Your love story has been an inspiration to us all, and I'd like to raise a toast to your success and to your happiness." People around you congratulate you, and you lean your head onto Rafe's shoulder, squeezing his arm.

"President Snow would like to see you both in his office." A peacekeeper says, appearing out of nowhere and gently escorting you into the building.

"What do you think this is about?" You whisper as you reach a blocked-off hallway.

"I don't know." Rafe mumbles back. He has a good idea though, to him toast sounded more like a threat than a celebration. "Just... let me handle it. Okay?"

You just nod, stopping behind the peacekeeper at a big wooden door. He nods, gesturing that you enter.

"Have a seat." Snow offers, and Rafe pulls out your chair for you, deciding that he would stand. "Thank you for coming."

"We were in the area." Rafe replies impatiently. "What can we do for you?"

"I wanted to discuss our agreement one more time, since clearly, the two of you were left a little confused." Snow says, resting his hands on the desk that sits between you.

"The money was a show of good faith." Rafe replies, resting his hand on your shoulder.

"To you, maybe, but to them, it is a sign that you are on their side." The President corrects. "You are not one of them. Not anymore. If they believe that you are, that they have people with power on their side, the uprisings will continue and the death toll will be catastrophic. I have a feeling that both Districts One and Five will not recover."

You bite your tongue, keeping your eyes locked on the rose sitting in front of you on the desk. "I think there is no use in giving the people of Panem false hope, because you do not have the power you think you do. You are not invincible. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." You nod softly, anxious to leave.

"Go enjoy the party. After all, it's all for you." Snow dismisses you, and neither of you are in a position to argue.

Leaving the Capitol again was a relief, especially with the promise that a train would be made available to either of you as you wished to travel exclusively between your home Districts. Not that you would particularly want to travel anywhere else, anyway.

Rafe had a preference for coming to visit you, despite your home being much smaller than his. And much more crowded, but he didn't mind. Having a home full of sounds felt much more welcoming to him, even if he was only there for a weekend here and there. He had sisters to look after as well.

In all those months, he came down twice a month, and you looked forward to it every time. Everything was so normal, besides the interviews you did every so often, just to show everyone how happy you were thanks to the "generosity" of the Capitol, and that's a story you're more than pleased to stick with if it means keeping your families safe.

"It isn't far, right? Because I'm too out of shape for a long hike." Rafe jokes, letting you pull him by the hand through a wooded area not far from your house.

"Oh please, you could do it in your sleep." You laugh, shaking your head. "But no, if you must spoil the surprise, it's not far."

Rafe follows you silently, smiling as he watches you beat your way through a slightly overgrown path. The image flickers in his mind of you in your windbreaker, hair tied back around itself to keep it away from your eyes as you run through the bushes in the arena.

"Here, look." You interrupt his thought process with a jolt, the sunlight blinding him as you push past a final branch and hold it out of his way. "Behold, the pride and joy of District Five." You smile, gesturing out over the cliffside.

"Oh, wow."

"Isn't it pretty?" You ask, dropping his hand to walk closer to the edge overlooking the large dam. "All the electricity in all of Panem comes from here."

"I didn't expect it to be so... scenic." Rafe says, joining you closer to the edge as you sit down.

"Yeah, it's pretty." You agree, crossing your legs. "My dad worked in there for years, he just retired. My brother works there now."

"I can imagine." Rafe says, tearing his eyes away from the depth of the ravine in front of him to look at you. You look so at home here, he can tell by how you're hunched over so casually tossing pebbles off the cliff that must be a thousand feet deep. Even then, you're not scared. "Do you come here a lot?"

"Is that a pickup line?" You giggle, leaning back on your palms as you look over at him.

"Well, no, but would it work?" He smirks, placing his hand over yours as he matches your position.

"Only because it's you." You laugh, shaking your head.

"That was the correct answer." Rafe chuckles, looking back down at the giant damn that's filtering water through, powering his family's mansion back home. He thinks of all the hours your dad put in, sometimes sixteen-hour days he recalls him sharing, that he was working in the power plant to keep the lights on at Rafe's kitchen table where he sat with his dad and his sisters rarely uttering a word. The same hours your brother is working now.

"How do you feel about this mentor thing?" You ask out of nowhere. "We start soon."

"I don't know. It'll be weird to be working against you." Rafe replies.

"Don't think of it like that. Besides, what was it you told me, that you have a whole team of them? You probably can just sit back and watch them work." You say, trying to raise his spirits a bit. "That gives us more time to visit."

"I feel like 'visit' is a strong word." Rafe laughs. "Hopefully it'll be more than that." He says, moving over to wrap his arm tightly around your waist, kissing your cheek.

"That would be nice." You agree with a sigh. "I don't know, I just don't know what kind of advice to give. What, find someone you trust? I think we just got lucky."

"You'll be the best mentor." Rafe insists. "I wish I had you."

"I wish we hadn't needed one. I don't want to see kids come through year after year and watch them die. I wish I could make it stop, it all seems so pointless."

"It's about control. They'll never give that up." Rafe shakes his head. "So don't think for a second it's your fault."

"I know... It's just so complicated."

"I'm glad it brought me to you, though."

You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Hey!" You're startled by a voice behind you, both of you standing up quickly. "You have to come back." Your brother says, chest heaving from his exertion of running all the way up the hillside.

Rafe relaxes from where he placed himself in front of you at the sound, letting you step in front of him. "What happened?" You ask, seeing the look on his face.

"There's been an announcement." He answers, laboured breathing starting to return to normal. "About the games."

The two of you follow him in silence all the way back, anxiety in both of you spiking after your brother wouldn't answer any more questions. When you walk into the house, you're met with a paused TV, your parents on the couch, and your sister with tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes. "What happened?" You ask again, hoping to get some answers.

Rafe pulls you close to himself after shutting the front door, leading you into the living room. "Here, um, have a seat, kids." Your mom says, hardly audible as you sit down.

She wipes her eyes as your dad presses play on the television, and it's a rewound clip of the news. Rafe wraps a shaky arm around you on the couch as Caesar Flickerman starts speaking.

"We have a unique announcement today regarding the upcoming, highly anticipated, Seventy-Sixth annual Hunger Games." He starts, and you get tunnel vision as you stare at the screen. "This is a twist no one saw coming on the heels of last year's Quarter-Quell, but President Snow has decided there will be a permanent change in the rules. From now on, any victor remaining under the age of eighteen will once again be eligible for the reaping."

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