#Because at least we had proof they were in an ACTUAL relationship of some kind that wasn't just platonic besties

[lukolabrainrot]

Nicola’s stylist Aimee liked Deux Moi’s post. Why would she if it wasn’t true? I am losing my mind.

Please refer to this post.

I don't hyperfixate on all this SM stuff. It's EXHAUSTING. I think a LOT of this SM stuff is up to interpretation and we'll never have all the answers.

One thing I do know though. JD AND N ARE NOT DATING. 0% CHANCE Y'ALL. If you can't read between the lines, idk what to tell ya.

I AM SOOOO TIRED OF TALKING ABOUT JD! Mainly because it's just NOT TRUE. It baffles me that so many people are buying it 🙃

N COULD be dating someone else that's not L. IT'S NOT JD Y'ALL!! Just know I am REALLY confident on that. That is why I was so confused last night by the article, because I was like that's BS, don't buy it. Sorry, not sorry. I talked about my thoughts on all this here.

This WILL be my last post about JD unless something MAJOR happens.

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter three)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 3/? (MASTERLIST)

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, power play, oral sex, thigh riding, degradation, dirty talk, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

taglist: if you’d like to be tagged, leave a comment on the masterlist post and i’ll add you! 💌

a/n: thank you for your patience and condolences / kind messages over the past week i’ve been awol. i’m very happy to be back. very long, filthy and much awaited chapter ahead, so strap in and hope you enjoy the ride.

in the words of miss zegler herself: oh we are so back.

You weren’t sure how long he stared at you, smiling with a fire in his eyes that rivalled yours until it was eclipsed. A third and final time, you found yourself speechless, dumbstruck, and one final time, much like the others, you took a few shaky steps backwards, before turning and fleeing.

He knew. He’d known this whole time. How long had he been planning this? Exactly how much of this had been an act, with Snow puppeteering you as you slowly lost your mind?

You almost felt pity for the girl, because she was played just like you were. She was a mere pawn in his game of chess, where he’d toyed with you until you were backed into a corner, unable to make a move.

Well, not this time. Now you knew what he was playing, you were ready to up your game. This wouldn’t be another stalemate; you wanted to win, and you had a few ideas of where to start.

You were already up and dressed when you heard a knock at your door the next morning.

Dreading the worst – despite the fact that Snow had never actually been in your room before, but the rules had changed now and you weren’t sure quite how much – you paused for a second to prepare yourself, praying that he wouldn’t be there, ready to put a stop to your plans before they’d even started.

You fell lucky. It was one of Snow’s footmen, George.

“Good morning, ma’am. I, um.” He swallowed, not meeting your eye. “I have a message from Master Snow. He’d like for you to meet him for breakfast in a half hour, if you will. He says you have something… quite important to discuss.”

Typical Snow. Never liked to get his hands dirty. Too proud to knock at your door himself.

You considered.

“George, could you please tell Coriolanus that if I’ve already eaten, and that I’ll come to him when I see fit. If he isn’t satisfied,” you added, for his sake, as you knew Snow wasn’t above killing the messenger, “Say I have an urgent matter to tend to, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

You grew a lump in your throat from your refusal, fearing the consequences. But you’d set your plan into motion now and there was no going back. Once George had been sent on his way, you snuck down the stairs on the far end of the building and slipped out the door through the servants’ quarters, where you knew Snow wouldn’t see you leave. The one upside to the last few weeks was that you’d learned how to sneak around the manor unnoticed. You were certain there were at least three hallways he’d had never even set foot in.

You had Lucille call Henry – Snow’s driver – in advance so you could leave right away.

“Where are we going, ma’am?” He glanced at you over his shoulder as you slid into the black town car.

“Head into the city. I’ll explain on the way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Henry took some convincing – and some light bribing – to finally cave and tell you what and where this gentleman’s club was. Of course, it was a risk, a roll of the dice to go there without concrete proof, but you knew Snow. You knew his little neuroses and hang-ups, and he was paranoid; in all senses, it would seem, except when it came to you. If he’d been frequenting this club for some time – some years, according to Henry – and trusted their discretion, then you highly doubted he’d play Russian roulette and pick somewhere else.

You were dropped off outside, and sent Henry to the tailor to pick up some of Snow’s things; an excuse for the outing, but a part of your plan too. He was hesitant to leave you alone in such a place, but you insisted you knew exactly how to handle yourself, and so he gave in.

You’d deliberately dressed down for what you were about to do, worn your old coat and let your hair down with a hood pulled over it. It being daytime, the place was closed for business, but you knocked on the front door expectantly.

You waited. Went over the plan, and knocked again.

This time, the door opened and a burly man now stood between you and the inside of the brothel. Your curiosity made peek over his shoulder before he cleared his throat.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes. My name is Margaret, sir, I’m a maid at the, uh,” You dropped your voice to a low whisper, “Snow household. I have a message for the owner of this establishment, from my master. Is he here?”

The man cleared his throat and glanced around the nearly empty street, then beckoned you in quickly.

“Anything for Mr Snow, miss. Right this way.”

There was your proof.

The empty club was a classy one, you had to give Snow that. The bar caught your eye, silver panels lining the wall behind it in an otherwise jet-black glossy room, with dark red couches and shiny tables, booths, single chairs, a stage with shiny metal poles, and a few cordoned-off alcoves.

You took it all in, certain you’d be able to appreciate the aesthetics of it more if it wasn’t for the seething rage inside you. You were stopped at a closed door near the back, and the burly man knocked.

“Yeah.” Came a voice from inside.

“All yours. He’ll take care of you.” Your guide stepped away. You pushed at the door.

A dark-haired man sat facing a desk, poring over paperwork. He didn’t look up.

“If you’re here for a job, sweetie, it’s Tuesday after 11.”

This incensed you.

“I’m not here for work. This is official business. I was told you take care of… special clients.”

He spun around, frowning.

“I’m listening.”

“I have a message from President Snow. He has a series of requests to be carried out with no delay.”

“Ah, yes. Mr Snow. I see. And you are to him?” He prompted.

“Just a maid from the household. He sent me as a messenger.”

“Excellent. Well in that case, of course, miss. How can I be of service?”

You took a breath, hoping desperately that he didn’t see right through you.

“Firstly, the shoes your girl wore.”

“What would he like with them?” He asked.

“He’d like to keep them. He’s willing to pay, and he’s not up for a price negotiation. This should cover them.” You slipped a bill across the table, and he nodded. You learned long ago that money causes loose lips, and this man was no exception.

“Of course,” he obliged, “They’re in the lockers through that door there. I’ll bring them to you. We ordered them in specially for Veronica, he made a point for her to wear them on the first floor. Usually our girls get instructions to sneak through clients’ houses quietly, but we handle every request as thoroughly as possible.” He chuckled.

That fucker. He really had planned it all out to get in your head.

“Was there anything else I can do for you, miss?”

You swallowed thickly.

Here goes.  

“Yes, actually. As of today, he’ll no longer be needing your services, or her services. He’d like to terminate your contract, and he doesn’t wish to see her again. Ever.”

The owner blinked. His mouth moved, as if he was about to say something, but then it closed again.

“But, um,” he stammered, “It’s only been three weeks. Veronica is our best girl, and he’s her top client. She carried out his orders to the absolute best of her ability, I can assure you. Are you sure those were his words?”

You sighed.

“She’s getting off lucky with a dismissal. Take it as a warning, sir. President Snow doesn’t show mercy to thieves. If she shows her face again, I can guarantee you, he’ll have her head.”

His face turned plum-red with horror.

“She was… stealing?”

In a way, yes.

“She was caught by a maid last night.” You nodded, and the owner swallowed thickly.

“I – I understand, Miss. I am terribly sorry for this. I apologise that our services weren’t up to your master’s expectations, truly. Please, if there’s anything I can do- and I can assure you, I’ll be having some very stern words-”

You cut him off.

“There is one more thing, as a matter of fact."

"Anything." He pleaded.

"You can send word that… Veronica, is it? She’ll be paying him a visit this evening. But you are not, under any circumstances, to send her. Am I understood?”

He furrowed his brows, puzzled. But you stared back challengingly and held your ground.

A small, sheepish smile formed on his face.

“Much obliged. I can assure you your requests will be carried out with the utmost discretion.”

“Thank you.”

He brought you the heels in a shiny box, and you turned and left.

Henry was waiting outside, and you slid back into the car.

“Get what you needed, ma’am?”

“I certainly did.”

The drive home was your chance to pick up lunch, finetune your plan, and go through the suits you’d had Henry pick up from the tailor.

They looked impeccable – crisp and creaseless, the white shirts brighter than the stars, and the maroon red jackets and waistcoats deeper than blood itself. It was one of these jackets that you chose to take upstairs with you, leaving the rest to be taken up to Snow’s room later, hoping the missing item would go unnoticed.

You retraced your way up the winding stairs of the manor. Luckily, Lucille had informed you Snow had left not long after you that morning, and was expected to be gone until evening. Nonetheless, your paranoia made you glance left, right and left again before every turn. Finally, after an exhaustingly long morning, you were back in the safety of your own room.

But the work was far from finished. You ate quickly, then began getting ready for your discussion with Snow. He hadn’t sent for you again; he was too proud. You took pride in knowing he’d be positively seething at your turning him down that morning. You kept going, showering, teasing your hair, adding a little more makeup than usual – not excessive, but enough to make a difference – then finally wandered the room as you picked your wardrobe for later.

You lay out the heels – which were a little big on you, but would serve their purpose – as well as the jacket you’d stolen, taking the time to run your fingers over the smooth maroon velvet you’d felt only briefly before, when brushing against Snow at public events. You then dug through your underwear drawer, debating between a red lingerie set and a white. You picked the latter; the tones of red would blend in with the jacket and white made more of a statement.

Innocence. If only.

You checked the time. Three hours or so until Coriolanus would be expecting Veronica. You hoped that he would be back by then, and more so, that your performance with the brothel owner had been enough to hold him to his promise of sending word. But if you’d learnt anything from Snow, it was that fear commanded respect, and better yet, obedience. So your doubts were few and far between.

In all honesty, that’s what had drawn you to Snow in the first place. It wasn’t about money; your family had money, more than they knew what to do with. It was the power, the fear. Even the richest man in the world would crumble to the ground with a gun to his head. Power trumps wealth every time, and the enigmatic, newly elected President was by far the most powerful man in Panem.

It was its own kind of thrill, pursuing a man like that. The temptation to get him wrapped around your fingers, ravenous, hungry for power, hungry for him. It all blurred together at this point, the man was like a magnet. You wondered if this thirst for more, always more, was an affliction the two of you shared. Or perhaps, an affliction you’d developed a taste for because of him. And the longer you spent at his side, the louder it began to beat in your chest like a second heart. You wanted to consume it, and let it consume you.

It thrummed in your chest now, adrenaline coursing in your veins. You fidgeted as you waited for the hours to pass, your craving growing with each second. You flicked through a few books; you drafted a letter to your mother. Each tick of the clock bringing you closer to finally taking the one thing you’d wanted since the day you met Coriolanus Snow. It was almost time for your big move.

✩✩✩✩

As enough darkness crept into your room and you stood to light some candles, you heard soft footsteps pass your door.

For a change, you recognised them as Snow’s, even and deliberate. He was home. With half an hour to spare until he’d be expecting his whore.

You jumped at the opportunity to change. Slowly and carefully, you slipped out of your clothes and into the underwear set, until you were clad in crisp white lace, with a matching garter belt as a finishing touch. You slid on Snow’s jacket – which smelled like him, of his cologne – the usual fitted shape it would give Snow now hanging loose and slack around your body, falling to the tops of your thighs. You did up the first button, tracing the neckline that plunged down your chest, leaving very little to the imagination. You slipped into the heels, checked the time, and after scanning yourself over in the mirror, made for the door.

The few worries you had about being seen by the staff were short-lived; the hallway lights were dim as you wobbled in the heels, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. You weren’t sure if Snow had fallen for your plan, but what mattered was that as you turned the corner, there were lights shining from under his bedroom door. He was in there, waiting. By now, it was odd seeing it closed. You tried your best to emulate the sound of the footsteps you’d drilled into your brain, the clicks giving you a sense of power knowing Snow – apprehensive or not – would be in for at least one surprise.

Click. Click. Click.

You considered pausing before barging in, but you didn’t. When you reached the end of the hallway, seconds away from your fate, you reached out a hand, pushed Snow’s door open, and walked right inside.

Snow was there; of course he was. Facing his dresser and away from you, he didn’t flinch at the sound of your arrival. You closed the door behind you, and took a step towards him. Stared at his back, scanning his black dress pants and the white shirt he’d rolled up to his elbows, cufflinks on the table, blonde curls a little unruly as he smoothly poured himself a drink.

This, right here, was where the solid part of your plan ended. It was caution to the wind from here on out, and you could practically taste it, high off the adrenaline; off his presence. And he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

This was the moment of truth.

“Well,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Look who finally figured it out.”

“Not who you were expecting?”

“She’d never reschedule.” he said simply, turning on his heels, eyes glinting at you. “Figured you were up to something. Drink?”

“Think I’ll pass.”

He approached you, eyes scanning your body, deliberately clad in the skimpiest underwear you owned. You figured this was as good a time as any to unbutton the jacket and let it fall open. It brushed your sides, and you watched him lower his glance, hungrily taking you in for what could quite possibly be the very first time. He wet his lips, took another sip.

There it is.

There was that power you craved, that look that you’d been aching to see in his eyes while he stared at you, and although it was fucked up, you let the pride fill your head with confidence, and stepped forward.

“Now, just where did you get that?” A slight narrowing of his eyes gave him away. At least something you’d done had made an impression.

“Borrowed it. In case I get cold.” You smiled.

“Cute. Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to take things that aren’t yours?”

“Oh, I take whatever I want, Snow.”

You raised your head in defiance. Proud of your voice for not faltering once.

“Clearly. Nice shoes. Borrow those, too?”

“Why, do they look familiar?” you quipped.

“I think we both know the answer to that, doll. Now why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

You sighed, feigning exasperation. A chill crept up your legs but you barely noticed.

“You wanted to talk to me, Coriolanus. Talk.”

“Is that really what you came here for, sweetheart? Dressed like that?” He put his drink down on the dresser, not once looking away from you.

“If this is what it takes to get your attention, Snow, then yes.”

You took another step closer, and the jacket fell further to your sides, more skin slipping out from underneath for him to feast his eyes on.

“I think you know plenty about trying to get my attention. I watched you struggle for weeks.”

“Didn’t think you cared.” You muttered.

He laughed, low, more like a scoff.

“What, your childish attempts at seduction? They were pitiful at best. I’d expect that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady of your standing.”

“Thought you liked whores.” You retorted.

“They’re no fun to live with. And there you were, proving my point.”

Your eyes narrowed, and when you spoke, it was through gritted teeth.

“So what, you had to go and fuck one to prove a point? Mature.”

“Mature?” he glowered, then before you could think, he stormed towards you, grabbing both of your wrists with a hard squeeze. You gasped.

“Mature like you, with your short skirts and your fuck-me eyes, sucking your fingers off at the breakfast table?”

You squirmed. Tried to jolt yourself away but it was no use.

“I didn’t think you-”

“Oh, I noticed.” He said, moving in to corner you, grip tightening until he was walking you backwards across the room as he spoke, never once taking his eyes off you. “And it’s a real shame this couldn’t have been easier for us both, but you just had to start it. So I watched your pathetic little displays, day after day, knowing if you’d behaved better, I would’ve given you exactly what you wanted.”

You fought not to trip over yourself until your legs bumped against the ottoman at the foot of his bed and you caught your breath. His eyes bored into yours and you blinked helplessly. His grip loosened on your wrists. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone dry.

“If you’d been good,” he continued, voice lowering, “you wouldn’t have played around like that. Good girls don’t whore themselves out to respectable men.”

Your eyes narrowed in defiance as you felt heat start to brew in your stomach.

“Respectable?” You spat, and his grip tightened again, bringing one hand up to trace your jaw, almost pitifully.

“See what I mean? You dig yourself deeper at every turn. Good girls ask nicely, and say please. It didn’t take me long to figure out you had issues with authority. It could’ve been so easy for you, sweetheart. You had plenty of chances. You could’ve asked me very nicely to fuck you, but instead you behaved like a desperate slut for weeks on end. Eventually, I knew there was only one way to shut you up.”

Your ears started to ring and you fought harder to gain composure. He’d never talked to you like this before. And now, all this, all at once, it was almost too much. Goosebumps had long covered your arms and legs, despite the heat inside you burning you up. You were vaguely aware of heat pooling uncomfortably between your legs.

Your breathing was heavy as you stared into him, his hand gripping your chin, and you couldn’t hide it if you tried. He finally backed away, letting you peel yourself from the ottoman. His hungry eyes scanned over you, suit jacket now crumpled at the wrists. You swallowed as you tried to pull yourself together.

“You knew I was watching you. The whole time. Every time. It was… for me.”

He watched you knowingly, raised his eyebrows a little. His lips grew into that smirk, that fucking smirk you knew all too well.

“We were playing the same game, sweetheart. I was just… Better.”

“A little excessive, don’t you think?” Your voice faltered and you cursed how breathy it sounded.

“Oh, on the contrary. It was very entertaining to see you struggle, but I could’ve gone further.” He mused. “I even considered fucking her on your bed.”

Shit.

A thought popped into your head, and a strange smile made its way to your face.

“Aren’t you going to ask me where I got these?” You asked, glancing down.

He frowned for a second; good. You’d thrown him off guard. But he caught up fast.

“The heels? You know, I had her walk right past your door in those so you’d follow her and see just what you were missing?”

If you weren’t so wired with adrenaline, you were pretty sure you’d be tearing up with how desperate you felt. But his words channelled it all into pure anger.

“Fuck you.” You seethed, and he smiled.

“We'll get to that. But go on, I’ll bite. What did you do to her?”

“Let’s just say she deserved much worse than what she got. Maybe you should’ve fucked her on my bed. Would’ve given me a reason to choke the life out of her.”

“You think I’d care?”

“Course not. Knowing you, it’d probably get you off.”

“Which brings us right back to now.” He stared at you, challenging. You laughed again.

“Is this you talking? You’re not very good at it.”

“No, this is me giving you a second chance. The way I see it, you made your move, I made mine. Now, if you’re a good girl, and ask me very nicely to fuck you until that pretty little head of yours gets filled with nothing but empty space, I might consider putting an end to this and giving you what you want. Maybe.” If you thought you’d survive smacking that smug look off his face, you would.

“You want me to ask nicely, Coriolanus?” You closed the gap between the two of you and glanced up at him through your lashes. He looked back at you, and no chill in the world could cool you down from the fire in his eyes.

He stepped away, paced towards the desk chair – the one he’d watched you from last night – then dragged it across the floor, spun it around, and took a seat. Once again, last night felt worlds away now. A lifetime sat between that moment and this one as he made himself comfortable, unbuttoned his collar. As if the room was now a stage, and he was the sole spectator.

“Go on. I’m waiting.”

Cocky bastard.

Another airy laugh escaped you. But you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t exactly where you wanted him. So you played into it.

“You want me to beg you? Say pretty please?” Your voice softened as you slowly stepped towards him, holding his gaze. A passing thought reminded you of your childhood, asking your mother what you’d feel when you first truly fell for someone.

Fireworks. Thousands of them, crackling, hissing, charging the air between the two of you into something heavy. Thick clouds of smoke you could almost taste as you stared into darkened eyes. You paused in front of him, fingers playing with the hem of his suit jacket that brushed against your thighs. Caught your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Take it off.” He ordered.

“Gladly.”

You slipped the jacket off your shoulders, and it fell smoothly into a pile on the floor. You kicked off the heels next, landing haphazardly to the side with a thump. His eyes never leaving you, consuming you.

“Like what you see, Snow?”

He took you in, long and hungry and shameless. Like you were simply there for his entertainment, nothing else. You wondered where along the line he’d lost all his inhibitions, at what moment in his very young life he’d decided to simply stop caring. It should scare you, but it just made you burn warmer. Maybe your wires were a little crossed, too, because it didn’t make you feel cheap.

It made you feel powerful.

You knew you looked good, too; you’d made sure of it. But he was looking at you like you were carved out of solid gold. He didn’t answer, because he didn’t need to.

“Think I like you better when you’re not acting like a dumb slut.”

You hummed, determined and unphased, moving in closer until your legs touched his knees. His words shouldn’t turn you on - nor should not knowing exactly how much he meant them – but they did.

“You like me better when I’m begging, then?” You placed your legs either side of his, straddling him, but still standing, and took his hands in yours. You ran one of them across your lips, brazenly taking a digit in your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop, then dropping your head down.

“You want me to be straightforward, Snow? Tell you exactly what I want?” you breathed, your foreheads almost touching, looking down at him from a thrilling vantage point, your hair falling either side of his face. “To beg you to rip this off me?” You guided his hands to your hips, letting them slide over the lacy fabric. “You want me to beg you to kiss every inch of skin you see and make it yours? Beg you to fuck me until I can’t think, and forget my own name?”

You ran his hands down the sides of your legs, then, inch by inch, letting him take a good long look on the way, you finally lowered yourself onto his lap. Your blown-out eyes met again, at the same level this time. You shifted your hips once, feigning getting comfortable, and hid a smile as he let out a strained sound.

You were close enough to feel his breath against yours, fast but steady, controlled. You moved closer, your head dipping cautiously under his chin to kiss his neck. He smelt clean, like fresh laundry and his cologne, and his skin tasted like salt as your tongue traced a line across it. It felt like power, having him like this. Slowly starting to grind your hips as your mouth pressed against his pulse, every shaky breath you elicited from him awakening something new in you.

“Say it, Snow.” You murmured, breath catching. “Tell me you want me to beg you, and be good for you.” Another trail of messy kisses across his jaw, and you finally heard it, ragged and coarse, words shooting through you like knives softened by the heat of his breath on your hair.

“Be a good girl, and fucking beg me.”

You hummed with satisfaction. Moved your lips to his ear, hand cupping the back of his neck, and leaned in close.

“If you wanted me to be good,” you whispered, “then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”

You felt it, his whole body tensing beneath you. But you had it now, the upper hand, and you weren’t giving it away. Your other hand came up to close over his mouth with a warning shake of the head, and you gripped the back of his neck harder with the first. Craned it backwards so he could look at you, a different kind of fire in his eyes. A fire that could burn you far worse than any other. You leaned your weight into him until you were flush, skin pressing into fabric. Tightening your legs around his so he couldn’t kick out. You felt dangerous. You felt alive.

When you spoke, your voice was a vial of vitriol.

“You thought I’d just give into you? Three weeks of torture and you call it even? No fucking way, Snow. You wanted to play? Let’s play.”

You were closer to him now than you’d ever been before, infinitely closer than when you’d held hands in front of an audience, or danced in the middle of a ballroom, or when he’d draw you in for a lingering kiss at the head of a busy table.

You were closer still because of the common denominator: you were alone, your bodies pressed together, soft and firm colliding. And your stomach ached with want, but your rage burned brighter.

When you were sure he wouldn’t move, you readjusted your position on his lap so you were sat on one thigh, your right knee pressed firmly against the chair between his legs. Slowly, you dragged your hips against it, firm muscle between your legs, shameless as you stared him down.

“I’d like to modify the terms of our agreement, as of tonight. Starting with this: I’ve made sure your little whore won’t come running back here. If I so much as hear a whisper of a rumor that you’re fucking someone else, I’m leaving. Don’t think I don’t know how to disappear. I can, and I will.”

He scowled at you, and you’d never felt power like the rush you got from seeing your hand clamped over his mouth. His own hands, now easily able to overpower you and push yours away, instead sat at your hips, digging in so hard you knew there’d be bruises for weeks. As you moved, he started to follow suit, rocking your hips on his thigh faster.

He’s allowing this.

The realisation made you pull your hand from his mouth, and yet he didn’t speak. There was a tightness in his jaw, locked down so hard it must’ve hurt as he watched you move, helped you move. It sent a shock through your core, and you ground down harder.

Who’s on top now?

This was getting to your head.

“President Snow,” you mocked. “What a title. Thinks he can take whatever’s in his sight. Thinks he has the right. Did you think I’d come crawling back to you?” Your voice lowered.

“Did you think I’d get on my knees, like she did?” You glanced down, running your now-free hand over the front of his pants, gentle at first, then pressing in firm, and he hissed.

“Did you really think, after all your little shows, that I’d just submit? Not a chance.” You spat, and his breath turned a little shaky as your hand slid up, then down.

As it evened out, and he reached for composure again, he pulled a countermove. Got in close, with words so sharp, they nearly cut through you.

“Which one was your favorite?”

You pulled your hand away. Your hold on the back of his neck tightened, and in turn, so did his grip on your hips, pulling you down harder as you got closer, panties bunching up as you became desperate.

You shook your head.

“Don’t.”

He smirked.

“I gave you plenty to go off. Tell me, was it when I sat right here while she rode me? Or when I was fucking her mouth and calling your name?”

He pulled your hips in rougher, and you gasped, barely able to think. You were sure if he kept this up, your thighs would chafe. You just couldn’t find it in you to care.

“No, I don’t think so.” He hummed. “I know which one it was. It was the second time, wasn’t it? When I was making her cum all over my tongue, wondering what you tasted like.”

You couldn’t help it – a moan slipped out of your lips. He kept up the pace, rolling your hips faster, flexing his thigh as you started losing your bearings. He laughed at the state of you.

“I knew that one would get to you. Tell me something, princess, how many times did you touch yourself after that night wishing it was me? Or did you lose count?”

You gritted your teeth, fighting the spinning room.

“Cocky much?”

He let out a breathy laugh again, as if he was losing himself as much as you were. Pulling you in harder in response.

“Look at you,” he mused, “riding my thigh like the needy slut you are. Bet you’re close, too, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Fuck.” you panted. “Stop fucking talking, oh my god.”

“You sure about that, sweetheart? You know I can feel how wet it’s making you, right?”

Your head dropped down and you whined. Sure enough, you’d soaked through your panties and dripped an embarrassing wet patch on his dress pants. You cursed under your breath as you slowed down.

“Beg me.” He ordered.

“No.” You gasped as he pulled you back again, faster, hips bucking as your legs started to shake around his.

“Beg me,” he repeated, "or I’ll stop.”

“Fuck, no, don’t fucking stop, I can’t-”

It was so much friction it hurt, but you kept chasing it.

“Yes, you can. You want to cum? Ask nicely, sweetheart. Just ask me.”

The seam of your panties got wetter as you moved, just enough to let the pain melt into pleasure instead as it caught on your clit, and you started to ride out your high. You were right at the edge, he was keeping you there, hair stuck to your face in a hot sweat as you writhed on his lap. So fucking close.

“Fine, shit. Please. Please help me cum, oh my god. Right there, please. Fuck.”

And maybe you were more like him than you thought, because you weren’t ashamed. You rode his thigh like you’d ride him, unabashedly, while he watched you starting to fall apart. He moved faster, pulled your hips hard in as if you were riding him, as if he could feel it, breath running ragged, desperate. It only brought you closer knowing this would be sending him over the edge, holding you so near and yet so awfully far away. The look in his eyes screaming danger, and you let it swallow you whole, squeezing his shoulders like you were scared you’d float away.

"That's it. Knew you'd sound incredible, asking me all pretty like that."

His lips met your neck, teeth grazing your skin and that’s what did it, your legs squeezing his as you shook through your orgasm, crying out, falling to pieces, hearing going fuzzy. The words good girl echoing through your head so distantly, you couldn’t tell if he’d really said them or not.

You sighed, glazed eyes rolling open, coming back to yourself. Your right hand was pressed against his chest, fingers curled into the creased fabric of his shirt. As you looked closer, you noticed it had opened wider, and he was missing a button. Had you done that?

When your eyes finally met Snow’s, you couldn’t look away from them. Beautiful and blue, like an ocean frozen over, staring into yours like you were all he’d ever wanted. You could get high off this feeling, live off it.

“Get on the bed.” He breathed. “Right fucking now.”

But too much of any feeling isn’t good for you.

“No.”

He glowered, face flushing even further, and as he leaned in to make another demand, you quickly stood, trying your hardest not to let your wobbling legs give you away.

“You should understand, Snow. We’re doing things my way now. And I’m going to be doing them as I please, when I please.”

You picked his jacket up from the floor, and slipped back into it, the soft fabric cooling down your burning skin.

“You think you’re funny, sweetheart? Nobody likes a fucking tease.”

You chuckled, doing up a button and brushing your hair out of your face, damp with sweat. You walked to the dresser and took a swig from Snow’s half-empty glass, then turned. He sat there, and it took everything in you not to smirk at the mess you’d made of him. You handed him the glass when you were done drinking and turned away. You felt him stand, but you didn’t acknowledge it, still fiddling with your hair, smoothing it out.

“You said it yourself, Snow. I’m no common whore. If you want me to beg you to fuck me, you’re gonna have to work for it.” You turned, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. His face was unreadable.

“But be a doll, leave your door unlocked.” You added, stepping back. “You never know when I might change my mind.”

“You’re not going to leave. You wouldn’t dare.” He seethed, the rage in his voice only propelling you on.

“Wouldn’t I?” You smiled, giving him a once over. Dropped your eyes down pointedly, first at the ruined leg you’d ridden, then at the uncomfortable-looking tent in his pants. You met his eye again and bit your lip, really laying it on thick. “Good luck with that, sweetheart. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

He huffed, incredulous, disbelief painted across his face as you made for the door, swinging it open. You glanced over your shoulder.

“Buckle up, Snow. I’m just getting started.”

You missed the way his shocked face turned almost admiring as he watched you leave, walking barefoot down the hallway, leaving the door wide open.

Checkmate.

a/n: hope it was worth the wait 😌

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88 (more tags in the comments!)

[balletfilmss]

A HARD TIME ADJUSTING

✸ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

✸ synopsis: you’ve had a terrible day. life is terrible, the world is shit, but at least your boyfriend’s cute

✸ warnings: established relationship, reader is overwhelmed & stressed

✸ a/n: this is totally not self indulgent whaaaaat… i’ve been thinking abt this for days actually, like u don’t understand-

Words could not describe how totally and utterly terrible your day had gone. You were still adjusting to college life at NRU, and it was easy to say that it had hit you like a bullet train.

Assignments due and unfinished, a headache, a list a mile long of responsibilities to tend to, and about twenty unanswered messages and calls from your friends. You felt bad for ignoring everyone important to you, but the stress was all too much that you couldn’t even bother typing out a couple of texts.

You sat with a book open on your lap in your bed, but you hadn’t looked at it in about ten minutes, having decided that staring a hole into your wall was much more appealing of an activity.

Just when you thought you might either go nuts or fall asleep, a knock came to your door.

When you didn’t answer out of fear it was somebody coming to remind you of yet another thing you’d forgotten, a voice called through the door, “Yn?”

Not just any voice though, your favorite voice.

You neglected your book and crossed your small dorm to the door in practically two big steps, throwing the door open to be met with your boyfriend’s beautiful face. Beautiful and thoroughly confused, but you were pretty used to that.

“Hey, did you— are you okay?”

That was it, that was your breaking point.

He looked at you with those big, concerned eyes and a little frown drawn on by his worry for your wellbeing ,and the tightrope full of things you’d been balancing came tumbling down into the chasm that was you.

You made some noise that might’ve been interpreted as a no and threw yourself at Percy.

He rocked back from the impact of the hug but returned it readily, encircling your waist with his arms as yours latched themselves around his neck.

You stood there in silence for a while, hugging him so tightly but never tight enough, wishing that you could just crawl underneath his shirt and stay attached to him forever.

“Babydoll,” he whispered into your hair after a while. “are we just gonna stand in the doorway all night?”

You shook your head and without missing a beat, he hoisted you up into his arms.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and face burrowed further into the crook of his neck as Percy hooked his hands under your legs.

He kicked the door closed with one foot and then walked over to your bed, sitting down on the plush mattress, avoidant of your discarded textbook.

With you now in his lap, clinging onto him like some kind of koala bear, Percy murmured in a soft voice,

“You wanna talk now or later?”

“Later,” you answered, accompanied by a quiet sniffle.

Percy understood, he always understood.

There was no more talking after that, because he knew that when life was like this, sometimes it was just better to be comforted in silence and without the pressure of putting it all into words.

He tightened his arms around you, if it was even possible and rubbed a soothing hand in circles on your back.

You pressed a couple kisses of thanks to the bare skin of his neck, and Percy returned the favor by peppering kisses of his own across your shoulder.

The next day when your friends would ask about it, you’d just tell them it was a bad day.

Because that’s what it was: a bad day, not a bad life, and sweet Percy was proof of that.

[nagaytoe]

THE KID AT THE BACK

-theories

Did i sit down and analyze this game for 3 hours straight because I'm hyperfixated on it? Yes, yes i did.

This isnt proof-read and long as hell so buckle up for a joyride, y'all (by the way, there's another TKATB fanfic in the works as we speak and also some fanart, though I'm not sure wether to post it or not... well, we'll see!)

Some of these might not seem all too thought through (??) Since i was kind of grasping at straws here (and it was like 2 a.m. lmao), so if y'all have questions/need me to elaborate or have theories of your own feel free to share!

(There's some inspiration here from other people in the Fandom, most of them from the community section on itch.io which isnt available any more)

Sol knows the player longer than we think

My theory ->

-Fantasia stated that one of her 3 biggest inspirations was the game AMNESIA

-In amnesia the mc loses her memory in an accident. One of the love interests is her childhood friend and also the only yandere in the game (at least from what i could find out)

-She already drew Sol with Forget-me-nots and in the valentines day special the boquet sol gave us also contained Forget-me-nots

-In the book (this gallery thing with all the cutscene images) on the top of sols page is written 'Remember Me' which implies we forgot about him

-Annabel Lee Poem:

+The poem contains the line 'I was a child, she was a child' which furthermore implies that Sol and MC knew each other as kids

+Except for the last two paragraphs the poem is written in past tense, which could be talking about sols POV with us

Perhaps MC had an accident, as mentioned above, and MCs father (highborn kinsmen) tore MC away from Sol to the countryside

+The poem mentions angels killing annabel lee which could also mean something like this: MC doesnt die but, however, gets amnesia. That way, the MC sol knows and loves is dead because MC no longer exists the way MC did before (also the fact that she forgot him)

Some people theorize MCs farm is near the sea and that is the reason why sol hates the sea (i believe the city is near the sea and that's where MC 'died' (maybe MC almost drowned and got Amnesia that way?(apparently its possible for people who almost drowned to get amnesia)))

+"The speaker loves annabel lee to the point of death and even after death" (MCs view how to interpret the poem) (-> Sol loves MC to 'death' (the day they got amnesia) and even after 'death' (after MC got amnesia and 'died' in a sense, as a person))

-sol says he thinks death is beautiful, i didn't really know what to make of that, the only conclusion i came to would be: If MC actually did drown and lose their memories due to that, sol might have been involved in MC drowning (or at least blames himself for that) but viewed MC losing their memories as a 'second chance' with them, since they can start from anew (perhaps he made some mistakes with MC in the past which all eventually built up to MC drowning (it could be that we were already teens at that point)

-sol states afterwards: "But people refused them to let them be together, as if fate refuses them to die together" which supports my theory that MC was taken from Sol by someone (most likely the father after he witnessed Sols behaviour and his final straw was MC drowning because of him) the 'let them die together' could mean something like their relationship 'dying' and then starting over again or perhaps he tried to die with them, who knows (all this is really far fetched i am grasping at straws here lmao)

-in a really quick scene right after he mutters "I'm won't let it happen to me... not again" (some people view this as Sol already lost someone he loved dearly but it could also be the MC who was taken from him

ANOTHER THING I COULD IMAGINE -ABOUT DYING TOGETHER COULD BE:

MC almost died, Sol went after them but they were already saved, Sol just didnt witness that and almost died himself/wanted to die but was saved from that by someone (maybe hyugo? Though, he is an exchange student)

-Another theory on hyugo. It's canon that he is an exchange student, however i do believe he is from this city (since he knows about the hierarchy and his brother Geo apparently is no exchange student), moved away and is now back for business (relating to his 'mafia schemes' but under the disguise of being an exchange student)

Maybe he moved around the same time MC left or some time after that

-Hyugo mentions on the rooftop that we remind him of someone and the pronoun of the person he refers to changes based on the one the player picked for the MC in the beginning. It could mean we remind him of someone else entirely, someone maybe not even related to sol (though i doubt that) or to the MC and he knows them from back then but maybe thought MC died as well and cant believe they actually survived (maybe he want to spike MCs memory by doing that)

-A dream within a dream: MC mentions that this poem, at least to them, talks about the uncertainty about something, like life (which could also imply that they might be uncertain about some things in their mife because they simply forgot them due to amnesia)

-THE SECOND DAY 'THE KINGDOM'

+some people think the kingdom (by the sea) refers to MCs farm and implies its near the sea, however in day 2 we find out about the hierarchy in the city and considering my theory that MC actually is from the city and almost drowned there, i believe the kingdom by the sea is the city. MC does mention in the beginning that they lived on the farm ever since they were a child, however, it could very well be that we moved there right after the incident that caused MCs amnesia (if MC was akid when it happened it would really matter because then it would still fit with the fact that they lived there since theyre a child, however if they were already a teen, perhaps the father moved there immediately to cut off all ties to Sol and told us we have always lived there on top of that (considering the previous theories)

The father also didnt seem fond of the idea that we go to the city (the fact that he is is indebted to someone from high class could imply he might be from there), that could be because he knows how dangerous the city is (and how we could potentially meet sol again)

-maybe the reason for the debt is that MCs father suddenly bought the farm land to get us away from the city as soon as possible and had to take on a loan from one of his contacts in the city

-we know that this is MCs last year at the university, if we say shes minimum 22, and was already in the school for 4 years that would mean she got there at 18. If the 'drowning theory' events took place when MC was a teen (like 16 maybe) it would explain why the father was indebted (i also think 2 years is an believable timeframe a higher class person would give someone to pay off their debt)

-at the end of day 2 sol says he's sorry for leaving us and "i dont know what I'll do if..." which supports my theory that he lost us once (and he blames himself as the reason (again, MC drowning?))

-inspirations:

+ https://www.tumblr.com/sweet-herbal-peach-tea/746168072919023616/tkatb-theories?source=share

+ https://itch.io/t/3749638/whats-the-secret-between-hyugo-and-sol

Another theory:

Sleepy Hollow and The kid at the back

-In the nicknames the boys have for MC (fantasia released that on twitter and tumblr) sol calls MC pumpkin (like the pumpkin of the headless horseman (also in the gallery there is a pumpkin above the book)) and Crowe calls them '(star-crossed) lover'

Star-crossed lovers are people who love each other but can't be together

I believe this might imply that, even though Crowe is the second romance option, MC can't be with him no matter what they do

I also found out that the nickname is a phrase from romeo and juliet (which furthermore implies crowe will die)

We know what romeo and juliet is about: romeo and juliet cant be together because their families are enemies (some people believe Crowes father might be them man MCs father owes money to(i personally doubt thah though but it would support this romeo and juliet situation)) and at the end romeo thinks that juliet died, kills himself and then juliet turns out to not be dead but kills herself after seeing romeo dead

-Jericho Ichabod is a character from Sleepy Hollow, along Katrina (the FMC who owns a farm (what a coincidence)) and Brom Bones (its implied he is the headless horseman). In the story, jericho courts Katrina at a party, she rejects him and on his way home the headless horseman kills him (in the scene where Sol accompanies MC to class he says 'it's always been you ichabod' which could furthermore imply that crowe or his family have something do to with the fact that Sol and MC arent together)

In the library scene with Crowe he asks MC about their opinion on marie Antoinette and when MC says something negative about her, his reaction seems kind of strange. MC also brought a book about torture devices and execution methods and in that book is a picture of 'The Executioner' and he has scars on his arms, wears a mask and a chained collar. This correlates with some of sols features. He has scars on his arms (as seen in one of fantasias drawings), wears a chocker (he also wears a mask when he breaks into MCs room but that's really something anyone who does that would do). This implies even more that he will kill crowe.

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Nothing official, right? (Part IV)

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Warnings: no proof reading, wild cat!reader, mentions of sexual activity, soft!Bruce to you, you like to gently bully Bruce.

You knew that even if you had told Bruce that you wanted nothing serious, your relationship was actually shifting to something a lot more official.

Everyone was gossiping about the fact that the rich playboy of Gotham seemed to be only spending time with one girl lately. And you were pretty certain that indeed Bruce hadn’t had any kind of romantic or sexual relationship apart from you. You hadn’t either because no one really interested you. It didn’t mean you wanted to be “his” girlfriend.

You were still worried you would lose your credibility now everyone knew Bruce was seeing you. After all, the “son of Gotham” was always followed by paparazzi and you couldn’t hide your relationship forever.

At first, you heard whispers around you; you were just another girl to fall for Bruce. But you kept writing articles about the elite of Gotham and you kept pointing things out. When something was about WE, you simply informed Bruce you were going to publish an article about his enterprises. You kept doing your work. And the man never stopped you from doing so, because he loved that about you. You were ruthless to him, and he was finding it way too attractive for his own good.

The whispers quietened down.

Bruce took advantage of the situation by freely gifting you absolutely gorgeous dresses and jewels, without having to worry about “bribing” you anymore. He was inviting you to his favourite restaurants as well. 

But he was also eager to follow you to little cinemas and places you enjoyed and in which you were more at ease. You always ended up in a hotel room or at your place. You didn’t necessarily have sex, even if he often ended on his knees and in between your legs. At least until Batman was called for duty by Gordon or his kids (he made sure to finish you off before running away). 

After his missions, he almost always came back to you, and you always took care of his wounds and bruises. You were his safe place. His haven.

You never asked questions about what happened. You knew who he was and it was enough for you. You also knew Gotham’s media would soon enough talk about the last adventures of Batman. He was grateful you never interrogated him because he could forget about work when he was with you. 

His children, Alfred and even the Justice League noticed how his mood changed lately. Of course, he was still a grumpy bear but some of his usual anger and despair seemed to have died down. He was more relaxed and even more open to discussion. After all, when he was with you, and that you thought Bruce or Batman should have been better, you always let him know without sugarcoating it. He appreciated it even if it was quite a humbling down experience for him as well. More than once he hinted that he would love to have you working at Wayne Enterprises by his side, but you didn’t want to date someone who would also be your boss. Bruce didn’t answer back that if you were getting married one day, he could easily make you co-CEO.

After a few more weeks, Alfred told Bruce that maybe you could come over to the manor. Bruce hadn’t brought you at first because he knew you would have felt uneasy and judgemental there. And then, he wasn’t too sure he wanted you to meet his family. He had no idea how his children would react to you. 

And even if he loved them, he didn’t want anything to ruin your current relationship. Especially now it was getting obvious to everyone that you weren’t a one night stand, you weren’t just a girl Bruce fancied, you weren’t just some fun for a little while. It was obvious that Bruce Wayne was falling in love. Hard. 

And everyone was whispering about it behind his back, sometimes teasing even him right in front of him (but his deathly stares always made them shut up).

More importantly, everyone was curious about you. 

Of course the children easily found you and followed you around to discover who you were. They hated to admit it but you did seem like the perfect match for both Bruce and Batman. You were fearless, you were intelligent and kind. You were a true detective yourself.

They learnt about your past. They felt like you could understand them too. You knew poverty, you knew violence, you grew up with bad people surrounding you, and yet you decided to be a good person. You decided to stay and to fight for Gotham, even though you could have ran away. And they loved to read your merciless articles about Bruce and Wayne Enterprises. Of course, you calmed down once you started this relationship, but gosh they found some pretty good punchlines they loved to use against their mentor.

During the day, Bruce called you and offered to eat at the manor for once. You understood it meant that your relationship was getting even more serious than you thought, which worried you a little bit. It wasn’t your fault if you were a wild cat. You asked if he was going to introduce you to his family and he laughed.

“I didn’t have time to tell them how to behave around you, so not this time, love. Just you and me.”

“To behave around me?” you asked

“I’ve never presented anyone to them before. Not officially at least.” he explained

“But you want me to meet them?” you hummed

“They ask a lot of questions about you, and they love your articles, so I’ll guess at some point we’ll have to.” Bruce replied

“Sounds good to me… I just need to get ready for meeting all of them. You really need to stop adopting children, Bruce” you teased

“Can’t promise anything” Bruce admitted and you groaned

Unfortunately, the night you were supposed to eat and sleep at the manor was a very busy night for Batman. Alfred was kind enough to start chatting with you. He finally sat down next to you as you both enjoyed some tea while waiting for Bruce. You went along quite well and Alfred went to bed that night, very grateful for whoever sent you on his master Bruce’s path. You were some fresh air in the manor.

It was late in the night when Batman, Nightwing and Red Robin went back home.

Dick and Tim absolutely wanted to greet you and they sneaked into the dinning room as Bruce was quickly showering and taking care of his wounds. Tim was observing you with interest as Dick was being his charming self.

“So you’re the girl” Dick said

“People generally call me Y/N” you replied with a raised eyebrow and Tim chuckled

“Haven’t you read what she wrote about Bruce and Wayne Enterprises, Dick? Be careful, she might kill you with her words” he teased and you laughed

“Do you still stand by what you said despite the fact you are now dating Bruce?” Dick asked with a tilt of the head

“Oh yeah, Bruce is still a rich traumatised guy with a saviour complex, who adopts too many kids each year. The Brucie persona is complete bullshit and I still roll my eyes when I hear him use that voice” you nodded

“That voice?” Tim asked

“The “I’m the good son of Gotham so let me help you” voice” you replied with a roll of your eyes “Gosh, what an actor” you added and both the boys started laughing.

They instantly liked you.

“Why are you with him then?” Dick asked and you hummed in thought

“Despite everything, it seems that Bruce is actually… likeable and interesting”

“You seem disappointed?” Tim commented

“In myself? Yes, very much. In Bruce, well I’ll give him some time” you winked

The boys laughed again but they hoped Bruce wouldn’t actually disappoint you. You were such normalcy, fun and happiness in the man’s life. They were certain you could bring a lot of joy in the family too.

They knew you cared about him a lot more than you were saying when they saw how you got up and checked on Bruce when he entered the room.

“I’m sorry I’m late… Well I guess you were doing well without me” Bruce arched an eyebrow at the four of you; Dick, Tim and Alfred were smiling.

“Oh yes, I was just speaking ill of you, hon” you teased “All good?” you asked and he nodded

“Always when you’re around” he whispered to you before kissing you. 

It was the cue for everyone to leave the two of you alone. Bruce and you forgot about everyone else anyways.

--

PART 5

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@Esposadomd

@moraxussy

@resident-cryptid

@legendarypiratecheesecake

@randomnamedmira

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

ari please give signs of life

Plis accept one fic and my apologies.

Bruce stroked your back and smiled a little. Warm from the bath and rubbed down with lotion. Covered in love bites and utterly pleasure drunk. You were asleep and snoring lightly- he considered it a successful evening.

He'd missed you. Being a pleasure dom wasn't- he'd never done that before he was with you. Not really. But- When you looked up at him, just resigned to going along with sex because that's just what you always did in a relationship. God. It sucked. You were so ready to just grin and bear it in the dark. To act impressed with him. Fake it to get it over with quickly.

And that, he was NOT willing to let happen. He'd stopped right there until he had... some tools. Some more toys. Until he had a better proof of concept for you. Until he could convince you that making you feel good was what did it for him- it was always at least a little true. But with you? He could watch you for days and never get bored.

You'd gotten so spoiled. It was adorable. You wanted him. You wanted him to love you and take care of you. You made him feel safe and secure enough to feel unashamed in your needs and wants- and that... that was a different kind of satisfying. Another kind of gift he never anticipated.

"Bruce?"

"Yes, Doctor?" he answered, stroking your back.

"Did we stop because you were mad at me?" you ask timidly.

"No," he hummed, holding you tighter and kissing the top of your head. "We stopped because you were incoherently pleasure drunk and I didn't think you could actually consent anymore," he chuckled. "I asked you if you remembered your safe word and all you could do was whimper- So I thought it was in your best interests to stop."

"Oh."

"But I wasn't angry at you. I was having a wonderful time. I missed you... and tying you to the bed."

"I missed you too," you murmur, nuzzling his chest. "Everything. Feels good. Safe."

"And there's no higher compliment I've ever been given," he said honestly," he said, cuddling you closer and tucking your furry blanket around you tenderly. Warmth spread through his chest. Lovers and sung his praises in the most elaborate terms, but no one had done it and meant it the way you did. "Do you need anything, sweetheart?"

"Just hold me? I don't- I don't feel right."

"I'm here. You're okay. You're safe," he soothed. "It's just a little drop. They can happen even if you feel good feelings. Things still get intense and your mind has trouble re-regulating the chemical receptors." He didn't know if that was right. Not really. But- it sounded good. And maybe that would help.

"You still love me?"

"Always," he murmured, "And tomorrow I'll prove it. With pancakes."

[pseudophan]

nora can i just ask… WHAT was he thinking? how was that lie ever going to work when they were doing everything so publicly in 2009? sure you can delete stuff but he must have known it was still out there anyway right? isn’t it pointless to be like i didn’t watch his videos when he was commenting on the interactive adventures like his life depended on it ?? he was trying to convince people he just happened to be in manchester one day with a friend and he just saw phil ???? when we all saw you counting down the days to meeting each other online like WHAT

https://x.com/pinofdnp/status/1855973085771387187?s=46

tweet link (it's one of the infamous 'we met through a mutual friend' claims)

to be fair to them both, if the phandom wasn't as unhinged as it was (is) they could've gotten away with that lie. kind of. dan and phil are hardly pr experts but this isn't really too crazy a move, like yeah the people who know the truth will always know the truth but if you tell a lie enough times then in theory new fans, and people who just never looked into it, are gonna go with your version of events and not question it. the main issue for dan and phil specifically was that their fanbase was essentially built on and around speculation about their relationship and cataloguing any and all proof of it. new fans and casuals often believed the lie at first just because like, why wouldn't they, but the second they stepped foot into the phandom they obviously discovered the not-so-hidden truth, because you didn't have to be a shipper or be looking for Phan Proof in order to come across it, all you had to do is search dan and phil on literally any website with a prominent phannie presence

to their credit they seemed to realise it wasn't gonna work pretty quickly, they abandoned the 'mutual friend' story almost immediately it feels like. then they went with the 'yeah we met online but we met up to collaborate' angle but i kind of feel like they didn't go too hard on that one, probably because they had finally started to learn that Oh My God Say Less Please Say Less Always Say Less Stop Talking Jesus Christ. like by far the most damning part of the clip in the tweet is dan insisting on being like "a lot of people seem to think-" about the actual truth like girl why would you plant that idea in the heads of those who hadn't heard it before. just say you met through a mutual friend and move on like fbsdhjfbdjksf. also at that point they kinda didn't give a fuck anymore, by the time they gave that infamous editing tips interview in 2015 they had long since abandoned trying to convince anyone they didn't meet because dan was an amazingphil fan and desperately wanted to befriend him because of it. the only part they were trying to hide at that point i would say was the whole y'know, fucking and sucking of it all

this whole reply is way too rambly and idk if it makes sense but i guess my point is IF dan and phil had a more casual core viewerbase (and also didn't give up on the lie immediately. and dan was less blatantly defensive about it) they probably could have made it work in the long run, even with the amount of evidence against it. i would go as far as to say that if not every then at least nearly every single influencer/celebrity/public figure of any kind have readily available information about them out there that most people, even fans of theirs, don't know about literally just because they wouldn't think to search for it. like how often does a Major Scandal break about some celeb and some people in the comments are like yea this has been known since 2004 everyone just stopped talking about it, lmao. not that dnp being gay for each other is a scandal but you know what i mean

basically they started telling that lie just as their popularity skyrocketed and i guess the hope was that the massive influx of new people would allow them to rewrite history, but alas...

[aryxchse]

Can you do a request with Jason Grace and Reader where at the beginning is angst and the end is fluff, because Jason says to reader that he doesn’t want a relationship but later he realize that he was just scared and really loves reader, more than anything would be how Jason tries to get back reader

valentine. | jason grace x fem! reader

a / n ; i changed the concept a bit and added piper, hope you like it 🫶🏻 because once again, i didn't. and the end is kinda rushed m sorry :<<

summary ; jason has abandonment issues after piper and he thinks he doesn't ready for another relationship.

warnings ; cursing, jason wanting to kill himself and die (dramatically), female reader, piper being a matchmaker ex and kind of angst i guess? idk if i could did it :< NOT PROOF READED!!

you didn't know why jason was running away everytime he saw you.

you liked jason, hell, loved even. from the moment you met him you felt like you had a connection with him, but it was obvious that he didn't felt the same.

because everytime you wanted to create an atmosphere, he was gone.

and today was no different, but you were sick of it.

"yeah, you're good. see you later," jason tried to push you away in the middle of your sword practice. and you rolled your eyes.

"jason come on, i'm trying to practice here!" you shouted, trying to make him stop. and you did, he turned to you once again.

"but.. you're good?" he said, hands already gripping the hem of his shirt. you sighed and leaved your sword on the ground, walking to him.

"jason is something wrong?" you finally asked. "why are you always running away from me?"

because i'm in love, jason wanted to say.

"what- i- i don't runaway from you, wh-why would you think like that?" he said instead. you had this sad expression on your face that made jason's heart ache. he was the reason for that face and he hated himself for that. but he couldn't help it, the voices in his head doesn't stop.

"jason, come on." you said, knowing there's an understanding between you two. "we both know you're avoiding me."

jason sighed, now his full body turning to you. "i can see that you have a crush on me, and i don't want to break your heart because.." man, he wished some lighting struck his heart right now, rather than seeing your sad face.

"i'm not really ready to be in a relationship and, you know, me and piper just broke up.." the 'just' was five months ago but he still couldn't pull himself together. not because he was still in love with piper, no, he was afraid of he would get attached and left behind again.

and he was definetly addicted to you at this point.

jason saw the expression on your face and wanted to die. "i'm sorry y/n." he said, looking down.

"it's okay jase," you said, making him look at you again. you had a broke smile on your face, but your eyes was vomiting pain. "i understand. can we at least be friends?"

"no." jason said too bluntly. but he didn't actually mean to. "if i stay to close to you i won't be able to stop myself so, it's better we stay away from eachother."

okay, this was supposed to hurt you, but you felt your cheeks get red with this confession. jason was in love with you, but he was just afraid. "i understand." you whispered.

"well, see you later... i guess." before he could say anything, you walked away to find percy. he could teach you some fancy moves right? you wiped your tears away and sniffled, taking deep breaths.

jason wanted to drown himself. but instead, he walked away from the sword practice area with the biggest broken heart.

☁️

two months past after jason's harsh rejection and you seemed to move on. not really loving someone after him, but focusing on your life instead.

jason, on the other hand, was a mess. he wasn't eating properly, he couldn't think straight and because of this situation, he didn't joined the capture the flag games. he wanted to be a little ball inside of his blanket and never come out until you drag him out of it.

he needed you. he wanted your comfort, you taking care of him and your love. he was fine before the official rejection, running away and not saying anything. but facing the truth and losing you forever was a harsh thing that hit his face when he didn't expected.

he heard a knock on the door, but doesn't answered. instead, the person just barged in.

"jason, that's it." piper said, throwing away the blanket just to see he was crying.

"i don't deserve breathing." he said dramatically and piper rolled her eyes. "dude! pull yourself together! y/n got a date with this hot ares boy and you have to get her back!"

jason never sit straight so fast in his life. "what?" he said, eyes wide. piper sighed. "i know i should make it up sooner but i thought you'd get better quickly! before she had a fucking date!" she yelled.

jason held his head between his palms, thinking about the every choice he made. "i.. i can't do anything about it pipes."

piper hit his arm. "what?" she yelled again. jason didn't flinch, instead he had a tired look on his face. "it would be toxic if i wanted her back when she just moved on."

"jason, i swear to your dad i'm going to kill you if you don't get her back." she said, scaringly quiet. "she doesn't love him, she'll use him to distract herself for not to think about you. i know it, aphrodite powers remember?" she said, crossing her arms.

jason's eyes suddenly filled with motivation. "well, i don't plan on losing her any sooner." he said, stooding up with his flying abilities. "thanks pipes, i'm gonna get back what's belong to me."

piper watched him fly awag from his cabin with the biggest grin on her face.

☁️

"y/n!" a voice called. disgustingly familiar. the one that made your stomach fill with butterflies like nothing happened and the one who always managed to make you excited.

you stopped and turned to him. "yeah, jason?"

jason rushed to you while he was panting, he rested his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath for a bit. "don't." he managed to say.

"what?" you asked, confusion on your face. jason finally fixed his standing and looked deep in your eyes. "don't go on a date with that ares guy, please."

your eyebrows furrowed. "what-"

"i'm an idiot. hell, an asshole even. i don't deserve your forgiveness, nor your love. i know." he was talking in a full speed that you couldn't do anything but listen.

"but please, i beg you, give me another chance. i wouldn't know what to do with myself if i lost you officially. please, don't date him." jason was holding your shoulders like his life was depending on it, and he had this desperate look on his face.

your heart ached, and your expression softened. "jason, what date?" you finally asked.

"what?" jason asked you, confusion taking over his face now.

"what date? i don't have a date with an ares boy?" you explained, holding his hands. jason closed his eyes and sighed, resting his forehead on your shoulder. "piper."

you didn't understand for a few minutes, but after that, you started laughing. hard. "she told you that i have a date and you believed it?"

"i had a fucking panic attack, y/n." he said into your shoulder, and you laughed more. "if i knew you've comed to me this fast, i would ask her to do it sooner." you said between your giggles.

"shut up," he murmured to your neck, pulling you in by your waist. "i'm so sorry. i love you, i did back then too. but i was too afraid.."

"it's okay jason, i'm glad you're ready now." you said softly, kissing his forehead.

"i see you took back what belongs to you, jase!" piper called from afar and jason wanted to die.

"you said that?" you said and started laughing, hard that you were crying now.

"you both are going to be the death of me." jason murmured, a small smile on his face and light in his eyes once again.

i've rejected affection,

for years and years.

now i have it, and damn it,

it's kind of weird.

[otakubimbo]

Hey! Can I request for an angst romance with the very first sentence prompt with Satoru? They break up but Satoru refuses to believe that it actually happened and that it was only a joke. Like, he is in denial about it.

Hi anon! You're my first official request so thank you! I hope I did this prompt justice for you. My heart hurts.

angsty romance prompt. "tell me it was a lie, tell me you're playing with me right now "

Warnings: None really, just angst and no happy ending, which yes is so unlike me but we ball! I didn't proof read cause it made me sad writing it.

“Tell me it was a lie. Tell me you’re playing with me right now!” Satoru’s voice was at a higher level than it should being at this café. The people around pretending not to be easy dropping on the conversation that you and the man across form you were having.

“Lower your voice, people are staring.” The hushed tone of your voice, attempting to not betray the facade you were putting on.  This wasn’t easy for you, breaking up with Satoru Gojo, if anything you were breaking your own heart.

“How do you expect me to react when my girlfriend brought me out to lunch to break up with me?!” His tone is harsh, in a way you have never heard before. You flinch at his abrasiveness, making him shrink back into his chair.

Satoru’s anger and disbelief confuse you. It was as if everyone saw the signs of this impending breakup but him. The relationship had been going downhill for some time now, how could he not see that? How could he not see what he was doing? How couldn’t he see what it was doing to you?

After a year and a half of dating, you told him, you told him you loved him and you meant it with every fiber of your soul. It had been six more months since then and he never said it back. You were understanding at first when he didn’t say it back, albeit hurt a little but you knew at least a little of his past and what he has gone through. You could understand that it may be hard for him to tell you he loved you, you knew he loved you because of the way he cared for you and that was enough.

Well, you thought it was enough. After your confession, Satoru didn’t immediately become distant, but it started with small things. He stopped texting you good morning and would only say good night. The small touches, the holding hands, and the comforting hugs became few and far between. Any time you brought it up, he would play it off like nothing was wrong, everything was fine. Then it became as if the two of you were barely even friends, it seemed he was always busy as if he never had time for you anymore. And it hurt, it hurt like hell and even then you kept pushing it off just hoping he would tell you what was going on behind those piercing blue eyes of his but he never did.

That’s what lead to today, the day of your 2 year anniversary. Truthfully, you hadn’t even planned on breaking up with him today but when you sat across from him in the same café that you had your first date at, his eyes never met yours. He didn’t hold your hand across the table, he didn’t kiss your forehead on his arrival, he wasn’t your Satoru.

You could feel the tears threatening to spill as you looked up at him, “Do you know what today is? Or why I asked you here”

His jaw tightened, “It’s Tuesday and I don’t know maybe because I’m your boyfriend and we go to this café a lot.”

Is this all a joke to you? Was he just a joke to you? He knows he hasn’t been the best boyfriend lately and that he’s been a bit distant but that wouldn’t make you break up with him. Would it? You were too kind, too patient, too pure for that, right?

“This is the café that we went to on our first date, two years ago.” You aren’t even facing him anymore when you say that, just reminiscing on a time when it felt as if you were just two kids in love. Satoru froze, not even realizing that he had forgotten. He had been trying so hard to keep you at an arm’s length after your confession that he had seemed to just push you away.  He didn’t even say anything as you turned to him, tears threatening to spill down your beautiful face at any single moment. What had he done?

“Do you even love me, Satoru?”

The question hung in the air, making his mouth go dry. He did, he loved you more than he should and that was the problem. His love for you scared him, you scared him. You didn’t know the power that you held over him; you made him weak. You were his weakness. But he was the strongest, he couldn’t afford a weakness, but he wasn’t strong enough to let you go either. Now here he was, unable to speak the words that have been written into his heart from the moment he saw you.

With a sad smile, you take his silence as your answer gathering your things and leaving you there. His heart shattered as he watched you leave out of the door, fading from his vision. Satoru’s worst fear came true, the strongest was defeated, the strongest was broken by you and it was all his own fault.

[mentallyisekaid]

「 ✦ Fatui Harbingers x Signora's Sister! Reader, PART 2 ✦ 」

---

Part 1 [Part 2] Part 2.5 Part 3 Part 3.5

It's highly recommended to read the parts in order, otherwise few things will make sense!

Author's note ~ From this chapter forward, Y/N will develop a strong, somewhat intimate bond with her fellow Harbingers, but it's still, essentially, platonic. After coming up with the full storyline for this series, I figured it'd best to keep romance to a minimum, so it won't distract me or the readers from what's happening plotwise. But make no mistake - all of them care quite fiercely about you... it's not labelled "Harbingers x Reader" for nothing :) And of course, you're free to interpret their relationship in any kind of way you prefer <3

---

Featured in this chapter, we have (drum roll, if you please)... Scaramouche, Childe and Columbina!

Warnings: brief/indirect spoilers regarding Sumeru's Archon quest and Scaramouche's lore

Word count: 3k

---

A month had passed since the funeral, and the day you'd become the 12th of the Fatui Harbingers at Pierro's request.

*Note ~ Even though Signora's dead, I still consider her to be one of the 'Eleven Harbingers', and thus Y/N's position will be the 12th!

Truth to be told, you hardly cared whether such a dubious position had been offered to you out of respect for Rosalyne's legacy, or merely because they'd wanted to keep an eye on the immortal girl who possessed two Visions.

For the past five centuries, your life had lacked any clear purpose - perhaps this new title could change things to something a bit more... colorful?

Perhaps they could be the change.

On that note, there was something quite peculiar you'd come to notice about the infamous Harbingers.

Despite joining their ranks, you had kept the reason behind your questionable situation as a secret, so on a very essential level they still knew next to nothing about you (except for the Director who definitely knew enough to make you very uncomfortable!) In this regard, shouldn't they have considered you a stranger, or at least a high security risk?

Yes, yes they should have.

Yet not only did they treat you as one of their own, but it appeared that for some reason, these people cared about you to an extent beyond just professional relationships, always looking out for you in weird ways, like making sure you didn't overwork yourself, stayed healthy and never lacked any weird luxuries like expensive bath salts - that, and the fact that they were almost constantly lingering around you...

As someone who'd grown used to getting by on their own, you didn't really know what to make of their behavior. Or how to return it.

But did you dislike it? Not really. Why? Well, you were still sort of figuring that out.

You were currently sitting in Pantalone's office, looking through some financial reports while the Regrator himself was away on a business trip. As things stood, this was pretty much all that your title as a Harbinger was good for - assisting your colleagues by handling the less direct approaches to their duties as diplomats of Snezhnaya. It was only natural that you weren't yet expected, or trusted, to do any actual fieldwork.

So, your days were mostly spent being surrounded by endless piles of documents...

*knock, knock!*

...and them, as you might have guessed.

You sighed, placing the papers down on the desk when another round of impatient knocks came in. Clearly, that someone was going to invite themselves in regardless of your answer, and it wasn't hard to narrow down the list of possible suspects since only the highest ranking members of the Fatui were allowed in this part of the headquarters - frankly, the doors here tended not to be Harbinger-proof?

But it's not as if you really minded, breaktime was due anyway. Also, their company was always vastly more entertaining than work!

"It's not locked, you know" you commented, leaning back on your chair.

A scoff was heard before the door was rudely pushed open, and an unfamiliar character marched with such arrogance you'd think they owned the place. This made you raise an eyebrow; what an admirable sense of superiority? It wasn't someone you'd met before, but judging from the way they carried themselves, you recognized them nonetheless.

The man with child-like features (and a rather beautiful face) stopped in the middle of the room, staring curiously, though somewhat condescendingly, at the girl behind the desk.

"Are you," he started, "perchance the Director's newest recruit?"

"It's already been a month, but I suppose... in any case, what can I do for you, mister?"

"Mister?" The Harbinger crossed his arms, both amused and irked by your way of addressing him. "Ha, do you not know who I am?"

"Oh, no, I'm fairly certain I do," you sighed. "A presumptuous attitude, and a strikingly non-traditional kasa hat... the Balladeer, I presume? I heard you were busy playing a god in Sumeru with one of Dottore's segments, so I thought it might be a while before I get to meet the last one of my colleagues. But here you are - Scaramouche, was it? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He was being rude too, you were just returning the discourtesy.

Scaramouche held back a chuckle, the bells from his hat jingling.

"Ah, yes, that would be me. And as to why I bothered coming all the way from Sumeru just to meet you, miss Twelfth..."

"I have a name. It's Y/N."

He clicked his tongue, taking a step closer.

"Yes, yes, whatever. Now, sit there and listen. I was in the middle of my little experiment on blasphemy when I suddenly heard that the Jester had recruited a new Harbinger, who, incidentally, has two Visions and is supposedly immortal - but she blatantly refuses to reveal anything about herself. Surely, you can imagine my slight annoyance at this, seeing as you, on the other hand, seem to know an awful lot about us."

You smiled a bit, fiddling with the quill pen in your hand.

"Yes, I don't exactly go around advertising my past to others. But aren't you same in that regard, Scaramouche?"

"I won't amuse you by answering that." He smiled eerily. "The point is, I don't like being kept in the dark - it gives people the chance to stab me in the back, and that's not something I'm particularly fond of."

"Ask the Director, then. I can assure you he knows all kinds of scandalous things about me - about all of us, no doubt."

He shrugged. "That won't be necessary."

In the blink of an eye, Scaramouche was no longer where he'd been standing before. The Sixth Harbinger had suddenly jumped on top of your desk, scattering the paperwork you'd spent hours organizing. He leaned forward with a smug look on his face, grabbing your chin between his delicate fingers.

"So, our little miss Harbinger refuses to reveal her secrets? We'll get those out of you, don't you worry~"

"My goodness?" Your previously dull eyes sparkled a bit. "What a bold move - it's certainly... something. I must say, I find your character quite fascinating, Balladeer."

"Likewise."

Behind that ruthless, indigo gaze, was a forlorn soul that had faced so much injustice...

When travelling around Teyvat for the past centuries, you'd caught bits and pieces of hearsay about Scaramouche's tragic past - most of it probably accurate. But it wouldn't have been wise to bring up such matters when you'd only just met him, especially since the Balladeer was widely known for his foul temper.

Though, judging from the way was looking at you, he probably knew what you were thinking. Even so, there was no ill intent in his eyes.

A new voice suddenly interrupted your odd encounter.

"I hope you're not harrassing our princess, dearest Scara!"

Tartaglia waltzed in to the office with an ominous smile. Scaramouche jumped down from your desk, scoffing at the sight of his ginger colleague.

"Ha, barely! I just happen to find her very intriguing."

Childe laughed a bit, stepping forward to pat your head.

"Well, I did tell you she was special, comrade. And to think you didn't believe me? Yet, here I find you. It seems Y/N Lohefalter is capable of drawing the attention of even the Balladeer himself, ahahhah~"

You followed their interaction, thoroughly entertained - compared to your previous uneventful life, this was certainly refreshing.

"Foolish boys," yet another familiar voice was heard, and Columbina strode in gracefully. "Avoiding your work to disturb Y/N with these shameful antics? Pierro would be quite displeased. Now, perish."

Damselette then turned her attention on you, smiling sweetly.

"Would you like to have an afternoon snack with me? I hope you've been eating enough, my dove."

"Now, now, don't be greedy..." Scaramouche taunted. "It's rather obvious that she and I were having a conversation."

You smiled a bit, pointing at each one of them with your pen.

"Technically, you're all are here equally uninvited. And on that note - as much as I'd rather do anything else right now - I really should continue with these documents or they're going to pile up..."

"Hey now, you know Pantalone doesn't like it when you overwork yourself, Y/N," Childe pointed out, crossing his arms.

Columbina smiled gently. "Yes, how about we go and have some tea instead?~"

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow at this.

"You sure speak to this girl in an unprofessional manner, Tartaglia, Damselette - if I didn't know better, I'd say it sounds almost intimate. Trying to snatch her away from me, perhaps? But you've already known her for a month; it ought to be my turn to get acquainted with our new little Harbinger. Y/N and I have some things to discuss, after all..."

"Oh?" Childe raised an eyebrow. "Then what exactly were you and her chatting so intimately about before I came?"

"Enlighten us, Balladeer," Columbina chuckled.

You shook your head a bit.

"Let's not go down that rabbit hole-"

"No." Scaramouche cut you off with a smug expression. "These two, and the rest of them... would agree with the opinion I shared with you, don't you think? Surely it's something that we've all been wondering about."

Columbina and Childe shared a brief but knowing look - it wasn't hard to guess what the Balladeer had said to you, and though he should have gone about it a more discreet manner, they couldn't deny their curiosity either.

The angel-like Harbinger walked next to you, brushing back a loose strand of hair from your face.

"I'd rather hear this from you," she hummed.

Her touch was a little cold but gentle, not at all unpleasant. You just weren't used to this kind of physical intimacy, or rather, it had been so long since you'd experienced any kind of intimacy, that it caught you a bit off-guard whenever your co-workers offered these weird gestures. It's not like you... really minded this. But it did make it hard to refuse when they the asked you for something.

You sighed, leaning back on the chair.

"Of course, I... know you're all somewhat displeased that I'm keeping these secrets from you, about my past, that is - how I've lived for this long, and how it's possible that have two Visions. It might be difficult for you to trust me because of this, but even so, I am not obliged to reveal anything. And you know as well as I do that the Jester already knows what there is to be known; he wouldn't have let me join otherwise."

Scaramouche narrowed his eyes, not content with your answer.

"Yes, but I also know that the Director is a man of his principles - either those secrets are shared of your own accord, or not at all."

"Then maybe you don't need to know? Maybe you're better off not knowing?"

Tartaglia frowned, leaning against the wall next you.

"Being a part of the Fatui already means that we're in way over our heads when it comes to anything questionable that's going on in Teyvat. Your... situation, is included in that, even more so because you're one of us now. And in case it's not clear yet, we do care about our own, even if that often gets a bit lost behind our agendas and differences." He put a hand on your shoulder and offered a reassuring smile. "So, we'd like to know more about you, Y/N. I'm sure that's what Scaramouche has been trying to tell you too, albeit he has a weird way of choosing his words."

The Balladeer crossed his arms. "What a speech, Childe." It sounded like a snide remark, you somehow sensed that he didn't mean it as one.

"For once, I agree with these two," Columbina said. "Though both are going about this in a rather thoughtless manner. Regardless of her past and whether or not she chooses to disclose it, she is a Harbinger - and that does not necessarily mean we should know all these things about her. Her only responsibility is to serve the Tsaritsa, after all."

She smiled at you. "But it is a shame you don't seem to trust us very much, Y/N."

Reverse psychology? Smooth.

"I think you've misunderstood me, though. It's not about trust."

You stood up from Pantalone's fancy office chair, stretching a bit.

"At this point, revealing those things might or might not cost me, but I'm pretty sure I won't gain anything from it either. If that's the case - well, is survival not about keeping the trump cards you have, or at least not giving them away for free? And information is often more valuable than Mora."

"You sound like the Regrator, though I'm sure he would disagree about the Mora part." Tartaglia chuckled. "But I like the way you think! So, what is it that you'd like in return for those secrets?"

"I'd be happy to arrange whatever it is~" Columbina singsonged. "Within the bounds of good taste, of course."

Scaramouche clicked his tongue. "What an insufferable girl - what is it you want, then?"

You tilted your head, wondering why these people were so invested in you. One day, you'd surely understand... but in this moment, you could only think about their offer and how it was just slightly too tempting to refuse.

"Well, right now, I'm craving for some excitement. Something more thrilling than this paperwork I'm drowning in day after day. I don't suppose one of you has a solution for that?"

Columbina's soft laughter jingled in the air.

Scaramouche was glaring at you.

Childe's eyes were sparkling.

"Excitement, you say?!" the ginger exclaimed. "Oh, that won't be a problem. How about we make a little bet, Y/N?"

"I'm listening."

"Let's fight a bit~ I've been wanting to see what you're capable of, and a match against the Eleventh Harbinger is far from playing around, so I'm sure it would prove exciting enough for you." He nodded toward the two gemstones hanging from your belt. "Use those Visions, any weapons and all the shenanigans you can possibly come up with - if you think you can. I promise to make it worth your while. Naturally, you'd have to share some of your past in exchange..."

You raised an eyebrow at his suggestion. "...if you manage to win, that is?"

Columbina chuckled. "Careful, Y/N. You'll get Tartaglia too excited~"

Scaramouche rolled his eyes.

"I'm not sure you understand what you're agreeing to, miss Twelfth. But by all means, go play with this idiot - I'll gladly come and watch, it ought to be entertaining. The next phase of my mission in Sumeru is not due in a while anyway." (And if by some miracle you do manage to beat Childe, I'll come up with other ways of discovering those secrets.)

The Balladeer as well had grown quite captivated by you.

Childe smiled innocently. "How about it, Y/N? Are you in?"

"You bet."

---

...who in their right mind had recruited this maniac?

Sure, the Harbingers had inhuman abilities, but this was pure madness. Tartaglia had yet to even demonstrate his Hydro powers, much less a Delusion, but merely by using his agility and a pair of escrima sticks he had already brought you to your knees.

It's not as if you considered yourself to be a particularly skilled fighter, but you did have five centuries' worth more experience than him, and quite a few tricks up in your sleeve. But Childe only ever gave you the time to use your polearm - no Visions, no shenanigans - and even so, you didn't manage to land a single hit on him.

You lay on the floor of the training grounds, breathlessly gazing up at Tartaglia who was pinning you down with his knee.

"Ready to yield, girlie?"

"Ha... I'm not, *huff*, giving up that easily..."

He smiled, putting a bit more pressure on your chest - not in a painful way, but it was still enough to diminish your remaining fighting spirit rather quickly.

"Alright, alright, fine... please, *huff*... stop, Tartaglia... I, *huff*... give... up..."

"You can call me Ajax, by the way."

The ginger stood up, gazing down at you with a grin on his face. Well, at least now you knew that the rumors about his martial arts prowess weren't exaggerated? Neither was the fact that whenever he did fight, there was this euphoric (honestly a bit scary) aura around him. Reminder - think twice before you accept a challenge from this guy in the future!

That said, you had quite enjoyed yourself...

Ajax offered his hand to you, and you meekly took it, allowing him to pull you up from the ground.

Columbina and Scaramouche, who had been silently observing from the sidelines, appeared slightly amused and certainly pleased by the end of your struggle. This outcome had been more or less expected, but ever so welcome. A Harbinger never backed on their word, after all~

"Now then, my angel..."

"...you better keep that promise."

The three of them led you to a small lounge, dimly lit by a fireplace and deserted from any members of Fatui. Exhausted, you slouched down on a couch and closed your eyes.

Damselette came next to you wordlessly, laying down and letting her head rest on your lap. This was a habit of hers that you didn't mind; while admittedly rather intimate, it was something like this that you had long yearned for.

Childe leaned against a nearby wall, smiling at you encouragingly. For some reason, you always felt at ease around him. He was like an "older" sibling - more than she ever was, the one you'd already lost before her death.

The Balladeer was sitting on an armchair, observing you with an unreadable expression. The slight softness in those cold eyes was perhaps only noticed by you; an abandoned soul recognizes its own kind.

"Now then, Ajax, Scaramouche and Columbina. Allow me to tell you a story - one that discloses how my first Vision came to be. While I'm at it, I suppose I might as well reveal why Rosalyne and I shared such a difficult relationship..."

(to be continued)

[joelmillers-whore]

I've Got Nothing Left To Hide

summary: it has been a month since your injury, of taking it slow, and helping your father out more. and you’re sick of it. ever since you fully recovered you saw less and less of joel. actually, both miller brothers seem to be avoiding you and you’re determined to find out why. 

pairing: joel miller x reader, tommy & reader (platonic) 

word count: 3.5K 

series or one-shot

warnings: mature, language, cock-blocker tommy, joel x female!reader, no mention of Y/N, canon timeline (sort of), jackson era, post-outbreak, slight angst, joel avoiding his feelings, ends on a cliffhanger (sorry not sorry) 

A/N: got a little carried away. again. i am so thrilled that ya’ll wanted another part of this. i was hoping that you would because i had so much fun writing it. so, here we go. i was kind of going for more background on the whole dynamic between reader and joel and reader and tommy. it’s not super joel x reader heavy but i think i’m going to do anther part and explore their relationship more. let me know what ya’ll think of this part, i would love to hear some feedback or some ideas for other parts. thank you &lt;3

read the prequel here

Spring was officially on the way. Every time you stepped outside, you spotted a new sign that Mother Nature was giving you. Like last week, in the middle of your daily walk around town, you’d stopped and looked down, seeing a patch of half-frozen grass at your feet, the beginnings of vibrant green peeking out of the snow.

For as much as you couldn't wait until it was spring, there was still more winter to be had. A crisp chill still clung to the air, which made you wrap your worn sheep-wool jacket tighter around your body. 

You unlatched the bar of wood that was slotted in place across the solid, wooden door of the church, pushing the doors open and taking a deep breath when the air hit your lungs. You’d been breathing in stale air the whole day, so this was a welcome relief.

You took a step back, taking in the view of the town from your elevated advantage. Your eyes snagged on the clinic across the street, reminding you that it hadn’t been that long since you’d been back home. 

You snapped your eyes shut, suddenly overwhelmed by the memories, the screaming, the pain. Your heartbeat was erratic, your breathing coming out harsher as your mind assaulted you with images that you’d tried hard to forget.

It was like you had been transported back in time and you felt weak, unable to protect yourself from the looming threat. You clenched your teeth, making your jaw ache. You’re safe. You’re not in that cabin anymore. You’re home. 

You never wanted to feel that helpless again, and you were determined not to, if anyone ever let you out of your gilded cage. Tommy and your father had taken it upon themselves to make every decision regarding your safety without consulting the one person that it would affect the most; you. It was driving you to the edge of madness. 

They were always keeping an eye on you, making sure that at least one of them was with you at all times. You’d made one mistake, one small fucking mistake, and now you were paying for it. As if the scar above your belly button wasn’t enough proof. 

Tommy had restricted your duties and practically barred you from going out on patrol, in no uncertain terms. And your father had been all too happy to jump at the opportunity, insisting that you could be of more use to him and the community if you helped out around the church.

He was obvious in how he wanted you to follow in his footsteps and one day take over as minister of the church, but that was the last thing that you wanted.

You wanted freedom, something different, more adventure. Not being chained to a pulpit for the rest of your life, however long that might be. But your father was the only family you had left, ever since the end of the world. It had been you and him, and you’d be remiss if you didn’t at least try to make an effort. You and your father had come a long way since arriving in town. 

You could remember the day vividly when Tommy had found you both just outside of Jackson, starving, bloody, and bruised. He had asked what either of you could bring to their community, in terms of skills. You had been surprised when he’d accepted you, your father’s only skill being that he was a minister before the outbreak.

But Tommy, being Tommy had seen past that. Seen past the lack of skills and past the teenager who was afraid of her own shadow. 

Aside from giving the folks of Jackson a distraction, some way to rationalize the direction the world was heading, you both couldn’t be much use to them. The old man and the kid. But again, the people of Jackson had surprised you, making you feel welcome quickly. It wasn’t for free, while you found your footing, you had also done your part to help out around town. 

Even at sixteen, Tommy and Maria had treated you better than some of the adults in town had a first. You were someone, even back then, who wasn’t trusting when it came to new people. You’d had your guard up at all times, starting fights with other kids your age until Tommy had stepped in.

He had taken you under his wing, not pushing you to open up, but more so guided you and gave you the space so that in your own time you came around. He’s nurtured you and taught you useful skills; mainly how to hold and shoot a gun. 

It wasn’t long before you were tagging along on patrol, Tommy claiming that you were a natural, and slowly building up the courage to leave town on your own, or with your own patrol partner. He had built you up from a volatile kid who could barely throw a punch, to someone who could take down a fully grown man in under two minutes. 

You couldn’t give him all the credit though, you’d worked your ass off, turning yourself into a human weapon. Refined and deadly. There wasn’t a day that went by when you didn’t think about how grateful you were that he had taken a chance on you and your father. 

Years had passed since you had first arrived in Jackson, but those lessons that Tommy had instilled in you still remained. A hoarse voice called your name, pulling you from your reminiscent thoughts, and making you turn toward it. It was your father. He was walking toward you, the slight limp on his right side more prominent now than it had been back then. 

Your face dropped as he approached, emotion bubbling in your throat when you looked at him. His skin was almost translucent, pale when the light hit it. And the colour of his eyes dulled as each year came and went, the weathered crinkles on the edges deepening whenever he smiled or laughed.

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking him in, hoping to save a mental snapshot of him while he was still here. 

Realistically, you knew that he didn’t have much time left, but the unrealistic part of yourself, the part that wanted him to last forever, ignored the realism and gave him a smile. No matter how many times you told him to take it easy, and remind him that he wasn’t fifty anymore, he wouldn’t hear it.

He’d brush you off and mumble something about how age was just a number. He didn’t want you to worry about him, he’d said. And you would drop it, carrying on like nothing was wrong. 

As your father approached you, he gripped the back of a pew, putting all of his weight onto it as if it was a struggle to stand. Your eyes dipped to his hand, but his voice brought you back. 

“Everything okay?”, he asked. 

You exhaled an annoyed puff of air. If there was a running tally of how many times in the past month your father asked you how you were, it would probably venture in the thousands. He was being overprotective and it was getting on your last nerve.

You appreciated that he cared about you but at a certain point, it was too much. Between both him and Tommy, you were one more question away from ripping your hair out. 

“Fine”, you replied, snippily. You cleared your throat harshly, your telltale sign that you wanted to move on from the topic of conversation. 

Your father’s face softened, noticing how you were folding in on yourself, avoiding his eyes, making yourself almost invisible. You were uncomfortable. 

“You seen Tommy today?”, he asked, changing the subject. 

You shook your head, surprisingly, you hadn’t. Which wasn’t out of the norm, Tommy was a busy guy and you understood the shift in his priorities as the community continued to grow. But lately, he had been checking in on you more and more, even since you’d gotten injured while on patrol. 

You sighed, letting yourself think back to what had transpired after Joel had gotten you back to Jackson. Joel. You could still feel the ghost of his deft fingers trailing your arms, the contrast of his callouses and the softness of his touch as he held you close to your body, cradling you like you were something precious.

Your mind had blocked out a lot from the incident, preventing you from remembering key details. But you remembered Joel. 

You remembered his strong arms helping you onto his horse, or the way that his lips melded with yours as you kissed him in the clinic. You brought two fingers to your lips, trying to memorialize how it felt to finally kiss Joel. His gruff voice echoed in your mind, constantly on a loop of we’re almost home and hold on a little longer and don’t give up yet, darlin’.

Somehow, through the delirious fog, it had been his voice that broke through and it was the one thing that had tethered you to this world, not letting you leave just yet. 

That had been the bulk of what you remembered, aside from the searing pain in your stomach from the stab wound. You could thank those fucking raiders for that one.

To your surprise, it hadn’t taken all that long for the wound itself to heal, the patch of skin now only an ugly and scarred reminder of how you couldn’t ever have your guard down like that again. 

According to the doctor, Joel had gotten you back to Jackson just in time. He had said that if he had waited longer you probably wouldn’t have made it. You hadn’t been prepared to hear that, to hear that you had been that close to death.

Before you’d had a chance to spiral after hearing that cheery news, Joel had returned to his side. Stoic as ever. You’d smelled him before you had seen him, his familiar musk invading your senses wholly and completely. 

You had spotted him almost immediately, meeting his huge brown eyes that, to your surprise, had already been on you. You’d been harbouring a crush on Joel for the better part of a year, Tommy insisting that you become his new patrol partner recently hadn’t helped much in quelling it either. 

You’d thought that things had progressed with Joel, you’d broken through his hard exterior to the point that he now laughed at your jokes, cracking some of his own in return, and he seemed like he enjoyed your company enough when you were alone for long stretches of silence during patrol. 

But now, a month after your injury, when you had kissed him and he had kissed you back, he seemed as distant as when you had first partnered up with him. And it was eating at you. You thought you had been on the same page, but clearly, you hadn’t been.

Your stomach twisted into knots when you thought about it. You couldn’t help thinking that you had fucked everything up between you. 

Maybe he had just been nice, kissing you back, telling you that it had been okay, comforting you. Maybe you were reading into a simple kiss between friends.

But why then would he tell you that he wanted to kiss you? Ever since the doctor had released you, you hadn’t seen Joel around. Keeping in line with the he-was-avoiding-you train of thought. 

You and Joel were friends, even though he would never admit it out loud, and you needed to confront him. If only for your own piece of mind. Your father called your name again. 

“Sorry”, you mumbled, “Did you say something?”. 

“All I said was that you should go take a walk around town, get some air”. 

Your brows furrowed. He had been keeping a close eye on you for weeks, and now suddenly he was suggesting that you take a walk, alone. Was he trying to get rid of you? 

“Why?”, you asked, skepticism lining your tone.   

“You’ve been attached to my hip all day, girl. Maybe go down to the market, find us something for dinner”, he paused, rubbing his chin, “Or go find Tommy”. 

And there it was. If wasn’t him keeping an eye on you, it was Tommy. You crossed your arms over your chest. An idea sparked as you thought more about your walk. 

“Fine”, you started, leaning forward and pecking his cheek. “Be back soon”. 

“Don’t rush”, your father called out as you crossed the church threshold. 

You had been walking around town for about ten minutes, casting a tight-lined smile at anyone you passed. Your cheeks were numb, the harsh winter wind nipping at them as you continued walking through town, passing by the Tipsy Bison. You stopped in your tracks.

Would it be weird if you happened to stop by Joel’s house? 

You bit your bottom lip, rolling it between your teeth. You debated the idea for all of a minute before you changed your direction, pushing the self-doubt aside as you made your way to Joel’s house. Before you knew it, you were on his front porch, inches from his door.

You were about to knock when your fist froze midway, you were hesitating. What if Joel didn’t want to see you? What if he was avoiding you for a reason? 

You began to step back, your foot finding the first step, backing away slowly. Suddenly, the door whipped open and you were knocked off balance from seeing Joel, literally. You fell back, over the steps and landed on your back in the cold snow. 

“Shit”, Joel mumbled, rushing toward you. 

Your face was burning from embarrassment as Joel kneeled down beside you. You chuckled awkwardly, propping yourself up on your elbow. His hand rested on your knee, the sensation causing an unexpected jolt in your body. 

Joel’s grip on your knee tightened ever so slightly, but he didn’t look away from your face, concentrating solely on you. 

He let out a steady puff of air, “You okay?”. 

You let your head fall back, chuckling humourlessly. God, could anyone ask you anything different? 

You looked back at Joel, who was staring at you peculiarly, his eyes squinting. 

“Peachy”, you responded, an edge to your voice. 

Joel straightened, extending a hand to you. But you ignored it, getting to your feet without his help. He took a step back from you, doing so almost cautiously.

His broad frame towered over you, watching your every move as you dusted the snow off of yourself. Joel’s hands were now stuffed inside the pockets of his jeans, eyes boring into you. 

“You sure?”, he asked. 

You took a step forward so that you were a breath away from him. Your chest grazed his, and his breathing stuttered, the air around you suddenly thick and charged. His chest was solid and firm, your mind running rampant with the memory of it pressed against your body. You could see the way his jaw ticked as he looked down at you, the pressure looking like it could shatter his teeth at any minute. 

You felt the heat of his stare, but you didn’t dare meet his eyes, your irritation too fresh to be stamped out by one heady look from him. 

“Why do you care? Not like you’ve bothered to check up on me lately”. 

Joel’s face fell and you instantly regretted your words. He didn’t deserve that and you didn’t know why you were lashing out at him. 

“I know. ‘M sorry”, he said, his voice strained. 

You finally met his face, those big, brown eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t place, something that resembled sadness. Or regret. 

“Then why did you stay away?”. 

He swallowed thickly and you watched his Adam’s apple bob, an unsure look on his face. His one hand went to the back of his head, rubbing nervously. Joel Miller was nervous and that made you smirk, you doubted anything made him nervous. 

“I didn’t want to”, he started, inching closer to you, in hands flying to your hips. A tiny gasp left you at the contact, the skin underneath his hand burning, even though you were wearing three layers. “But I wanted to give you some space”. 

A beat lingered between you before you spoke. “I don’t want any more space”. 

Joel groaned, his eyes snapping shut as you let your hand drift to his beard, the scratchiness making your fingertips tingle. Your heart was hammering in your chest, your lips closing in on his mouth. You wanted to kiss him, you needed to.

It felt like you had been deprived of oxygen this whole month, waiting for that moment when you could breathe again. 

Joel’s fingers grazed your chin, tilting your face closer to his. You could feel his hot breath fan your face, making you shiver in anticipation. 

“Joel!”, a loud, booming voice echoed from behind you both. 

He withdrew from you quickly, putting distance between the two of you. Your heart was in your throat, your nerves on fire, leaving you breathless once again. But it wasn’t in the way that you wanted. Disappointment filled you as Tommy came into view.

His eyes found yours momentarily before they settled on Joel, giving him a look that you couldn’t quite decipher.

He softened his features as he focused back on you, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side. 

“Hey, you”, you said. 

You smiled tightly at him, feeling the awkwardness flush your cheeks, “Hi”. 

“Mind if I steal her away?”, Tommy directed at Joel, who wordlessly shook his head, eyes on Tommy and not on you. 

You deflated further as Tommy led you away from his brother, and back into the heart of town. You looked back, watching the tail end of Joel disappearing back into his house.

You shrugged out of Tommy’s hold, watching as he put his hands in his pockets instead, not saying a word to you. 

“What do you need?”, you asked. 

He looked at you strangely before he connected the dots. 

“Oh, nothin’ really. Just thought I could walk you back home”. 

You gawked at him, stopping in your tracks as he continued on, not taking notice of how you had stopped. When he did notice, he looked back, confusion muddling his features. You arched a brow. 

“So, you just happened to stumble upon me when I was with Joel and decided I needed to be walked home?”, you asked, annoyance lacing every word. 

Tommy wasn’t one to beat around the bush. 

“What do you want me to say?”, he said, an exasperated sigh leaving him, his arms thrown up dramatically. 

“I want a straight answer, for starters”. 

He paused for a moment and you thought that he would blow you off, tell you that you were being a child and reading into things. But when he didn’t, you were surprised. 

“Honestly, I don’t think it's a good idea for you two to be spendin’ time together”, he started, taking a breath, “And from what I just saw, I don’t think your Daddy would take too kindly to the idea either”. 

Now your blood was boiling. Where did Tommy get off talking to you like that? Telling you who you could and couldn’t spend time with. You marched up to him, poking a finger into his chest. 

“I am an adult, Tommy. And contrary to popular belief, I can handle my own. So, I don’t think you should be poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Because if you keep it up, we’re going to have some problems, Miller”. 

Tommy opened his mouth to say something but you were gone before he had the chance to say anything, stomping all the way back to your house, a cloud of anger and indignation burrowing in your gut. You pulled open your front door, seeing your father in his comfy chair by the fireplace. You mumbled a hello and locked yourself in your room. 

You were pacing, your feet wearing a hole in the hardwood. You stopped, an idea forming. A wicked, tempting fate idea. You dashed to your door, pausing a moment to listen for any indication of your father. The house was silent save for the usual groaning and creaking. 

Before you could change your mind, you pulled open your door, and sprinted out of the house and back toward Joel’s. You’d made it to the other side of town in record time, your chest heaving as you tried to level out your breathing. 

You pounded on his door, waiting for him to answer it. When he did, you swallowed thickly, eying the way his shirt was pulled tautly over his chest. You licked your lips subconsciously, not missing the way that Joel’s gaze dipped to them.  

“Can I come in?”, you asked, breathless. 

Joel hesitated, hand gripping the door above his head tightly, his knuckles whitening from the pressure. He seemed to be mulling the idea over in his head.

You expected him to turn you away, to tell you that it was a bad idea that you were at his house so late, that people in town would get the wrong idea about you and him. 

But you were past the point of caring, you were past the point of holding back. 

“Yeah, come on in, darlin’”.

[hooked-on-elvis]

𝗜 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥-𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛 "𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗛𝗔𝗕𝗜𝗧" 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬... It's not really anything from our business but Elvis' personal life is very, very entertaining - plus, knowing those things fans can always choose to live vicariously through the King's enormous list of love affairs.

From The News Examiner by author Trina Young — whom I love, btw... she really does an incredible job researching on Elvis' life and career — watch the video above on Elvis' romances on set of Change Of Habit (1969). Below, an excerpt from a book mentioned there:

While on set, Elvis and Mary, during breaks would "lie on a big blanket out in sunshine of the park, surrounded by extras and other actors, making out like teenagers. I don't mean affectionate pecks on the lips either. I'm talking about arms wrapped around each other during lip-locks that lasted fifteen minutes or half an hour. No one else on the set paid any attention to this behavior." From reporter Ann Moses' memoir book, released in 2017, "MEOW! My Groovy Life with Tiger Beat's Teen Idols":

Can you even look at these pictures the same way now?

PERSONAL COMMENT: Man, Mary Tyler Moore AND Jane Elliot? Seriously? Elvis had no shame at all, if that is true. Well, he certainly didn't - just thinking about the fact that he was married and had a tiny little baby at the time - but which actor or musician does? Very few. I always see things like this from a perspective of real life... If people in real life cheat all the time then how could we expect that stunning people, with money and fame and all the temptations surrounding them 24/7, don't do it? I mean, it doesn't make things right but it's not something only Elvis and Mary did - and at least concerning E we all know his wife cheated on him too, at given point - so we can drop the judgmental comments on marital status here because that's old news.

What shocks me is the suspicion he was having a thing with two of his co-stars from the same movie. Okay, supposedly it wasn't at the exact same time - apparently Mary was "inaccessible", according to Jane Elliot, so Elvis and Mary didn't get along very well compared to his relationship with other actors that worked on COH, and for that we can suppose she and Jane weren't actually friends either. Trina supposes his romance with Mary was very short-lived... and then (or prior to him and Mary happening) him and Jane happened. At least E (supposedly) wasn't having a thing with two girls who were friends with each other, behind their backs and at the same time but still... co-workers! Surreal. To me this is shocking. I always believed Mary when she said she didn't have a thing with E... Jane I had my suspicious but it's still not confirmed as far as I know. But now that I learn Mary was (apparently) lying, from a reliable source, eye-witness, adding this to the rumors (some gossip from the director based on situational "proof") that E and Jane had an affair during the making of COH... this got even funnier (to be kind).

I personally believe Ann Moses when she shares many, many years later what she saw between E and Mary in 1969 - and based on pictures I also believe him and Jane had a thing going on at the same period. I'm not judging any of them here. Even if it was all true, we don't know the real situation (how that happened, why it happened, the mood between the actors…) Still, c'mon, isn't that weird to imagine that Jane might could've seen Elvis and Mary and afterwards (or at the same time, who knows?) she got together with him even so? In other situation, isn't that weird to imagine, on the worst case scenario, that E got together with Jane and then he moved on to Mary right on Jane's face? Now, they were all grown-ups, all of them knew what they were getting themselves into (hopefully). I'm just sharing my thoughts, not for a sec intending to create any kind of morality shame on those people. Just like everything about Elvis, his love life is something we have fun (?) speculating about. Anyhow, one thing is true... ELVIS AND MARY TYLER MOORE DID HAVE A THING GOING ON IN 1969.

Oh, and about Mary saying Elvis said he slept with all of his co-stars except one, meaning it was her? I've read somewhere that Marlyn Mason said the same thing. I guess she was really the only one. Okay, making out and "getting into bed with each other" are two different things but still... things point more to Marlyn being the one than Mary. Again, who knows?

[4ln-stay8]

Behind closed doors - part II

>summary: Han isn’t too happy to find out what his sister is doing lately

>author’s note: I still don’t know how I feel about it… I also take requests if you have any ideas… I’m also working on some fake texts bits haha …THERE MIGHT BE A PART III

>warning: angst, Han is kind of a dick (Im sorry babygirl) not proof read

>pairing: lee minho x han jisung's sister

Part I

Masterlist

*Y/N'S POV*

It’s been three weeks since your argument with Jisung. Three weeks since you both talked to each other. He didn’t came home after that night due to his busy schedule but he tried and talk to your parents as much as he could. Your mother tried to make you speak to each other but neither of you wanted to reach out first.

On that night your mother asked what happened to her kids after she saw Jisung dropping you off and leave the next second. You told her everything while crying your eyes out and nothing she said could make you stop.

You never thought that your relationship with your brother could fall to the ground all because you fall in love with the wrong man. Don’t get me wrong, you didn’t regret falling for Minho, you didn’t regret anything about him or anything about your relationship with him. Anything besides keeping it a secret from Jisung.

Maybe things would be different if you would’ve told him sooner. Maybe he wouldn’t have hated you so much right now. You were spiralling down the rabbit hole and all you could think of was “what if”.

You barely talked to Minho in the past few weeks, you hated yourself for putting him through this. He had to work and spend every day with his best friend who probably hated him right now, all because of you.

You were way past the whole “it’s not only my fault” part and got straight to the “it’s all my fault” part.

You were miserable to say at least. You hated yourself for being the reason why your brother hated his best friend. You hated yourself for being the reason your brother hated you. You hated yourself for being the reason why your boyfriend was treated poorly by you in those three weeks.

You tried to be a good girlfriend, you tried to be one considering all the bad you’ve caused to him in his other relationships. You tried your best but you just couldn’t look him in the eyes while knowing what he had to go through.

Thats why you asked him to talk, in the small window he actually had. That’s why you showed up at the coffee shop near the JYP building while looking like you were just hit by a meteorite, waiting for your beloved.

- Hi jagi! It’s so nice to see you, I missed you so much! said minho while talking the seat opposite from you - Hi! Uhm…. Can we talk? you asked straight forward not wanting to be there longer than necessary due to barely being able to keep the tears behind your eyes - Uhm sure…. What do you want to talk about? he asked anxiously - I’m so sorry Minho! I’m really sorry about everything. I didn’t want to get between you and Jisung! He is right, I do ruin everything! you said, your voice barely above a whisper with tears running down your face -Wha-what are you saying jagi? he whispered confused but yet expecting the worst

-I ruin a lot of things Minho, but i refuse to ruin your life more than I already did. It's not fair. I'm sorr.y Minho... we're over. you whispered, pain evident in your voice as you got up quickly, running out of the coffee shop

You ran and ran, not stopping until you got home. You ran straight into your room, falling down the wall in the quiet room, the only sound heard being your heart breaking. You gave up on the anger you held against your brother, and with a last text sent to him, you gave up on yourself.

*MINHO'S POV*

He stood there, watching you run away, taking his heart with you. It took him around 15 minutes to actually process the entire thing.

With small robotic movements, he stood up and slowly walked out of the coffee shop, going back to the dance studio where all his friends were.

He walked in the studio and with small steps he went straight in the furthest corner, collapsing on the floor hidinghis face in his knees. He didn't wanted to cry in front of his friends, let alone cry in front of the few staff members that were there at the time.

Chan, being the good leader and the great friend he is, he Minho's appearence in the corner. With a ferm voice he let everyone know that they are free for the rest of the day, saying that they practiced so much lately that they need a break before someone gets hurt.

His voice was so serious that no one dared to question him and everyone just picked their stuff up and left, everyone besides the band members who were still picking up their stuff while messing around.

With small and calculated steps, Chan moved closer to where Minho was sitting, kneeling close to him, putting a hand on his shaking shoulders.

-Everything okay Min? How did the date with Y/N went? he asked softly

-She broke up with me. She said she couldn't ruin my life anymore.... Thats such bullshit Chan. he whispered, slowly raising his face to look at Chan.

The moment Chan saw his teary eyes he pulled him in a big warm hug, trying to comfort his friend.

*HAN'S POV*

Even tho it was weird for Chan to just call it a day mid practice, Jisung never dared to question his leader, looking forward to hiding behind his bedroom door and avoiding Minho with all costs.

He didn't spoke to his hyung almost atall in the past three weeks, only speaking when needes. It was common knowledge that he was avoiding him after the fight they had on the night Han dropped you home.

He stopped talking to you as well, against his mother's protests. He always asked about your condition and about your state whenever he called home. He didn't wanted to be the first to break and to see a message from you left him in complete shock. He opened the message reading it carefully. Honestly he had to read it twice to fully understand the words he was reading, replying vaguely and confused with your words.

His head flew up the next second, looking around chaotically. His eyes immediately landed on Minho who was currently in the arms of their hyung. He found himself walking closely to them.

-Wha-what happend? What did she do? he found himself saying, panick noticeable in his voice

-She ended things. She didn't wanted to ruin our friendship more than she did. whispered minho realising Chan and whiping his tears. Without a warning Minho stood up and stormed out of the dancing studio, all eyes on him. Han never saw Minho like this, so vulnerable and broken and he found himself feeling guilty.

Without saying a word, he took his belongings and ran out the studio, straight to his car. He found himself in front of his home, 20 minutes later.

He walked out of the car and straight inside, walking to the door of your bedroom. He knocked softly without saying a word. When he didn't hear anything form the other side of the door, he slowly opend it, being welcomed with your body still against the wall, looking into nothing.

He slowly walked thowards yoi, tears picking up in his eyes at the sight of his baby sister being so heark broken. And all because of him. He sat slowly beside you looking at a imaginary dot on the opposite wall. -You were right you know? I was indeed being selfish. I just didnțt wanted to have to share you or Minho. He is my best friend and I would hate to know he is the cause of your pain, but instead I was, and I hated myself even more. whispered jisung trying to get your attention

-You were right, I do ruin everything. Im so sorry for all the things I ruined between the two of you. I am the worst sister ever. you whispered

-You didn’t ruin anything y/nnie! I did! I ruin the relationship between you and me, the one between me and Minho hyung and the one between the two of you. I’m really sorry! Please go and fix this! I know I’m too late but I do want you to be happy!

-It doesn’t matter now, he probably hates me! And its ok Ji, I should’ve told you from the start.

-Minho hyung doesn’t hate you! Is he hurt, yeah. But he doesn’t hate you!

-Not so sure about that Jisung ! you said quietly

-My point is, I see now how much you love each other and I would be a terrible person to stand between you. I would be worse than I already am.

-I get where you’re coming from, I do but you’re my brother and your opinion matters the most to me. Seeing you so mad about the idea of me having a crush on Minho broke me. I tried at first to get rid of them but I couldn’t get rid of his feelings and I couldn’t get rid of mine.

-For how long has this been happening? he slowly asks, his voice softens with each word

-We confessed to each other at Changbin’s birthday party. you whispered slowly

-That was like 7 months ago!! he raised his tone surprised

-I know, Im sorry!

-How did it happen?

-We got drunk at the party and after a while we were just making out. The next morning I woke up behind the couch cuddling with him. We were both so embarrassed but he had the balls to confess. I told him that I wanted to wait to tell you until we were sure that it will work. I wanted to tell you, then you asked me about my crush and I tried to hint it but that didn’t get me the reaction I wanted.

-I overreacted a little didn’t I?

-Yeah, but I understand why. You’re not in an easy position. Sneaking aro was easier but it wasn’t fair to you or to Minho. I was just too scared of losing both of you.

-And now you are whiling to lose him. he whispered feeling guilty

-As much as I love him, you’re my brother. My relationship with you is more important than a boy, at least to mom who is constantly begging me to forgive your sorry ass! you said teasingly

-Hey! You’re not the only one she begged!

-I mean it tho, one day we will be the only ones left. Yes, we’ll have partners but we’ll still be alone. Mom and dad won’t live forever and it is important that we get along well.

-It’s not that important if it’s making you miserable! I know i was wrong, I reacted with knowing the full story. I really am an asshole! But I didn’t wanted to have to choose between you and my best friend, yet I made you choose between me and your boyfriend.

-It was my choice. You didn’t asked for it. It was for his benefit.

-It’s not! He is as miserable as you are! He even hugged Channie hyung back when he hugged him to comfort him. He even cried in front of us! You need to fix this, for you, for him, even for me! I would hate myself for being the reason you both are like this. And trust me I won’t forget myself for the way I reacted.

-Do you think he’ll have me back? you asked shyly

-There’s only one way to find out.

[becauseimanicequeen]

4 Minutes Theories (Ep. 7)

In this post, I've compiled my theories from my initial reaction to the trailer and the teaser (which were kind of sweeping since the trailer and teaser didn't give me much to get super detailed about), the new ones I've written down after watching new episodes (episode 1, episode 2, episode 3, episode 4, episode 5, and episode 6), and some new wild-ass theories I've written in some scattered posts.

Just like last week, I will go through my theories one by one. Let's see how wrong I am this time, and how (un)likely the other theories are. Like last time, I might develop some of my theories and add some new ones as well.

Let's go!

Pre-premiere theory: The moments Great sees ahead of time are moments that might help him redeem himself from a past mistake/transgression. (Unconfirmed)

I can't decide whether I should confirm this or not considering I can't decide whether Great's do-overs were based on him redeeming himself or an obstinate need to "prove" to Tyme that he's not a coward.

I'll keep this theory around for a while longer and decide later on.

Revised/developed pre-premiere theory: Korn will do some shady shit to prove to his dad that he can take over the family business. (Unconfirmed)

Even though there's not a family business to take over anymore, I will keep focusing on Korn proving himself to his dad.

He was definitely doing some shady shit. Especially in the real past timeline we saw in the 6th episode. But, I need actual proof.

I'm wondering what he'll do when he finds out Tonkla shot Great, because I'm sure he'll find out somehow. So I'm keeping this theory unconfirmed for now.

Pre-premiere theory: Title is involved with Korn. (Unconfirmed)

Before watching the first episode, I thought Title might've been a brother or that they had a boss/minion relationship (based on the similarities in their posters).

However, ever since I got a hunch before the 4th episode that Title might be Fasai's brother and that his dad, then, is Police Colonel Warit (which might've been confirmed in this week's episode, depending on who the "chief" is, because it could just as well be the man who saw the footage of Title and Great dumping Dome's body), that would at least be a semi-connection to Korn (via Fasai). But I want more.

I will confirm this theory if Korn gets involved in finding Title's killer (because he is killed, right? Even though we haven't gotten it confirmed, he must be dead, right?).

But, if we don't get to see Korn involved in that, I will half-confirm this if Title is Fasai's brother (and, therefore, has a semi-connection with Korn).

Revised/developed pre-premiere theory: Tonkla is at the center of it all. (Unconfirmed)

This theory was based on the background of the poster for Fuaiz/Tonkla. At first, I thought he had a target on his back (which could still be true considering he shot Great), but I feel like it's developed more into Tonkla being at the center of this whole thing.

What if the background on his poster is something like a spider's web rather than a target, and that he's at the center of it?

So, last week (or the week before? I can't even remember anymore, lol), I wrote that I would only label this theory as confirmed if Tonkla's timeline is the real timeline (which it seems to be, even though there are some anomalies as well) and if he becomes the prime suspect in both Great's shooting and Title's death (if Title's dead, because, you know, we didn't get to see it and it hasn't yet been confirmed...). I would love to see the look on Korn's face when he realizes Tonkla shot his half-brother.

In other words, I'm keeping this theory until proven wrong or right.

Pre-ep. 2 theory: Tonkla will betray Korn. (Unconfirmed)

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I'm rooting for a betrayal. I don't really care if Tonkla reveals all of Korn's dirty laundry to Win, if he ends up beating the shit out of Korn with a rock, or shoots him straight through the heart. I just want Tonkla to fuck shit up.

If shooting Great is the only betrayal we get, I'll half-confirm this theory.

If Tonkla ends up killing Korn as well, I'll confirm it.

(I'm hoping for the latter. Not because I want my theory confirmed, but because I want to see how Korn reacts when he realizes his sugar baby is about to end his life.)

Pre-premiere theory: Win is battling some contrasting, opposing forces (internal and/or external). (Unconfirmed)

This theory was based on the background of the poster for JJay/Win. I solely based it on the red and green contrasting colors.

Ever since it was revealed in the 2nd episode that Win works for the police, I've had the feeling that the contrasting forces he's battling are his attachment/feelings for Tonkla and his duty to uphold the law. I mean, he went rogue for Tonkla at one point. And now he's basically giving Tonkla the information to kill the ones who hurt him. How will Win react to that?

I could label this as confirmed already, considering Win has gone rogue and because he's giving Tonkla information from an ongoing investigation. But I want more.

I will label this as confirmed if we get to see Win struggle with what to do (whether to arrest Tonkla, let him escape, or sweep away the evidence) when he finds out Tonkla is behind the killings.

Pre-premiere theory: Den has a situationship with Korn. (Unconfirmed)

I'm not keeping this theory because I want Korn and Den together.

I'm keeping this theory only because I want to see Bas and Job together. This is a delulu wish of mine, and I will keep being delulu about this until I get it (which I won't).

(I'm still on my "Non is alive" agenda, so I can keep this wish alive forever, lmao.)

Pre-premiere theory: Fasai is the other character with a condition similar to Great’s. (Unconfirmed)

This won't happen (since the character they talked about in the trailer, which was where I got this theory from, was Lukwa). The only reason I'm keeping this theory is because I need the show to prove to me that Fasai doesn't have precognitive abilities so I can label this as wrong and move on.

Now, can you give me more of Fasai in next week's episode? I need more of Natty on my screen! Please, and thank you!

Pre-ep. 3 theory: Tyme has a precognitive ability similar to Great’s (or might develop one). (Unconfirmed)

I was right that Tyme would also have an OOBE, and I was right that his heart also stopped at 11:00.

The question is if Tyme will also get a precognitive ability (or some other supernatural power) now that he's in his OOBE timeline.

It's possible, so I'm keeping this theory.

Revised/developed wild-ass pre-ep. 2 theory: Tyme is having his own out-of-body experience. (Confirmed)

We got it confirmed in this week's episode. Not a surprise that this theory would be confirmed, though, but still.

Pre-ep. 3 theory: Fasai (and/or her father) is in league with someone within the police force. (Confirmed)

This was actually confirmed last week. I totally missed that Samarn asked Korn how much longer Police Colonel Warit (who they called a general in the subs, btw, but it said Pol.Col. Warit on him on MDL a couple of weeks ago when I needed to double-check on another character's name, so I'm going with Police Colonel) could delay things for them to get rid of the evidence at the headquarters for the illegal gambling sites. So, we've already seen (or, technically heard) that Fasai's dad is in league with the police force and misusing his power.

Pre-ep. 3 theory: There are different timelines at play. (Unconfirmed)

Well, this one is pretty obvious, right? I've written a long ass post about my thoughts on the timelines and a post with the scenes in the first 6 episodes in chronological-ish order (including both the real past and the different timelines).

Besides the obvious ones (the real past, Great's OOBE timeline, Tyme's OOBE timeline, and the present), I also feel like there might be something going on with Tonkla.

Last week (or some weeks ago, I can't remember...) I wrote that I would only confirm this if I get the majority of these timelines confirmed, which I already have. But I don't mind waiting another week to find out if there is another timeline or not. So, I'm keeping this theory here for now.

Pre-premiere theory: Great’s (Bible’s) tattoos have something to do with the story. (Because I refuse to believe otherwise! lol) (Unconfirmed)

I'm pretty sure this isn't true. However...

Just like I wrote last week (and the week before that, and the week before that, and the week before that...): I swear I'm keeping this theory because it hasn't been confirmed (or denied), yet. That's the only reason I'm keeping this theory.

I swear I'm not keeping this theory to add this image to at least one post I write each week. Nope, that's not the reason...

Pre-ep. 3 theory: Great has 4 minutes to wake up/get his heart to start beating again. (Unconfirmed)

This theory has already been confirmed through Lukwa and through Den's research. But I want to see what happens, if Great does/doesn't wake up. So I'm keeping this a little longer, even though it's basically already confirmed.

Pre-premiere theory: Someone will die/fake their death. (Unconfirmed)

As I've written in the previous posts in this series on my 4 Minutes theories, this theory was pretty obvious from the start. Sammon kills characters all the time, lol.

But, I also mentioned in one of the previous posts that I won't confirm this theory until one of the more important characters dies. And that's excluding Great and Tyme.

Technically, Dome has already been killed by Title. But, I need more.

I've previously speculated on who would be killed and wrote Dome, Title, and perhaps Korn, which I still stand by.

Title is probably already dead, even though it hasn't been confirmed. As soon as he (or Korn, or both) is dead (and confirmed to be dead, because finding an unidentified body isn't enough, lol), I'll mark this theory as confirmed.

Pre-ep. 4 theory: Great's actions during his OOBE won't change anything in the present. (Unconfirmed)

I want Great to wake up and face the consequences of whatever he did (or didn't do) in the real past. Or die knowing he can't change shit, lol.

We'll (probably?) find out in the next episode.

Pre-ep. 4 theory: The note saying "Can you forgive me, Great?" is written by the mystery woman in the gallery. (Wrong)

Well, I will mark this as wrong.

Too bad I didn't use my initial theory in this post though, especially the part where I thought that particular note came from someone who talked to Great at the hospital in the present. It's just that the words were filtered through Great's mind, which is probably why the handwriting was different.

Am I sad I didn't use this theory in these posts? No. Because I know I was, kind of, right anyway, lol.

Pre-ep. 7 theory: Tyme and Great met as kids (Confirmed)

I based this theory on the way Tyme said "You're still afraid of dogs?" in last week's episode. And it was quickly confirmed.

Pre-ep. 5 theory: The bodies the police find are the people who died in the real past. (Unconfirmed)

I'm guessing the real reason we haven't found out who that second body belongs to is because Tonkla hasn't killed Title yet from our current vantage point. I think he shot Great before he killed Title.

But, anyway, it's already been confirmed that Dome's body was found. And I'm pretty sure the second one is Title. I just need it confirmed.

It would be nice if they could find Nan's body too and take down Samarn.

Anyway, I'm keeping this theory for now.

Wild-ass pre-ep. 2 theory: Great will get Tyme's heart (after Tyme is shot). (Unconfirmed)

This is not the Transplant I want, btw. But it might be possible (probably not).

(Disclaimer: I'm not a medical professional. I have no idea if this is medically possible considering where Tyme was shot and how far he might be from a hospital (since I know a body needs to be hooked up to a ventilator to be able to keep the organs alive if organ donations are to be possible). So, excuse my lively imagination, lol.)

I haven't had the time to develop this theory, which I've been wanting to do for weeks now. I have so much to say about it (even though most of it will never happen, lol).

So, I'm keeping this theory even though I know it won't happen.

Wild-ass pre-ep. 3 theory: The number 4 marks a character with death. (Unconfirmed)

The number 4 (which in Cantonese is pronounced very similarly to the word "death") marks characters with death. Either actual death or something like a cardiac arrest (which can be saved).

Those characters are:

Great, who started off in bed 4 in the 1st episode, and is surrounded by the number during his OOBE.

Manee, who is lying in room number 4 at the hospital. (It's already been confirmed that she's dead in the real past.)

View, Title, and Dome who are near the 4 on the trashcan in the 2nd episode. (It might just be one or it might be all three, my guess is all three. And Dome is already confirmed to be dead in the real past.)

The elderly lady in bed 4 that Great had intubated even though Den said it might've been more humane to let her die.

And Tyme who is around the number several times at the hospital and on the escalator when he and Great were at the shopping mall, etc.

Also, since the show is playing with different timelines, the number 4 might signify the characters that die/died in the real past/present:

Great, who was shot and flatlined at the hospital.

Tyme who was also shot and is now experiencing his OOBE.

Manee, who Great hit with his car and left to die.

View, who might've been killed by Title if Great hadn't helped her escape from him in his OOBE timeline?

Dome, who was killed by Title.

Title, who, let's be honest, will die (most likely murdered by Tonkla).

And the elderly lady in bed number 4 who will, most likely, die because of her illness.

Let's see how wrong I am about this.

I will confirm this if I get the majority correct. And, I will say that NDEs don't count. I want them dead and gone, lol.

Predictions going into the last episode:

Korn will find out Tonkla shot his brother, and then he'll die (hopefully at the hands of Tonkla).

Win will die (because he's an idiot).

Warit will die (because I want him to).

Chanin will die (because he's an asshole).

Great's mother will survive because I need her to lose it when she realizes her son's been shot.

Fasai, who is done with the idiot men in her life, will become Prime Minister (this won't happen, but I wanted to add that here anyway, lol).

Great and Tyme will reunite in Tyme's OOBE and realize there's nothing they can do to change reality, so they chill in these last 4 minutes they get together.

The end.

Let's see how wrong I am.

(Btw, if Lukwa could wake up from her OOBE because of her lover's voice, will Natcha come back and get Tyme to wake up? And, the way Great's eye moved when Tyme talked to him in the ICU... It's possible that Tyme can get Great to wake up. But Tyme seems fucked, lol. Someone will probably find him and get his some help, though. The place wasn't that abandoned, right?)

Results so far:

Total theories since the trailer: 37

Confirmed theories: 11.5

Unconfirmed theories: 17.5

Wrong/scrapped theories: 8

[gurugirl]

Hi I love stepdad Harry so so so much. I’ve been in a weird mood where i want to sob. Can we please please have angst like they almost break up and we get fluff at the end.

A/n: to the anon who needed something to read over the weekend after grad school finals - I hope you enjoy. To the anon who requested this specifically I hope it meets your expectations :) 3.5k words

Warning: Angst, smut, cheating, drinking in excess, inappropriate relationship between a stepdad and stepdaughter

Your new job over the summer was killer. You liked the money it brought in but the long hours and odd shifts were hard. You barely had any time to spend with your friends. And you hadn't been around Harry much either.

So when you had your first weekend free in weeks you took full advantage of it. You went to an end-of-summer party. The kind of party that's full of frat boys and sorority girls getting shit-faced and making all kinds of bad decisions before the Fall semester starts up again.

And you made some bad decisions. You got obliterated, that was the first bad choice. You knew better. Especially when you'd driven there and would have no safe way home because all your friends had left before they'd gotten too drunk. The second bad decision you made was to give a lap dance to one of the seniors who was on the couch. He was so drunk he barely knew what you were doing, hell you were barely aware of it. The music was still pumping at full volume and even in the state you were in you still wanted to dance and goof around so on a dare, you gave a lap dance to Jake who would probably never remember it. There was even video proof from the person who had dared you.

Another bad decision you made was to let Johnathan see you naked. He'd been begging all night to get a peek and once he was drunk enough he had the courage to ask. You kept saying no to him but after enough alcohol, you no longer cared. You stripped down to nothing and let him take photos of you. He got more than just a peek.

Nothing beyond that happened, though. Everyone that was still at the party at the end of the night had been so nasty-drunk that most had passed out. You included.

You woke up in the hallway near a bedroom. You hadn't quite made it to the bed, but you realized right away that you were naked. There were a lot of naked people actually. You found a piece of clothing and picked it up to cover your bits as you walked around in a hung-over haze looking for your things. You barely remembered the night before. Your head was pounding and you felt sick.

Once you finally found your clothes and dressed, chugged a glass of water and then searched for your purse. You found your cell phone and everything was still where it should be. But when you opened up your notifications on your phone, you realized that you'd been sent a lot of pictures and videos of yourself doing things you never recalled, and then, for your worst bad decision, you'd sent them all to Harry.

His responses were just as angry as you could imagine. He was not happy. You sighed and ran to the bathroom to unload everything in your stomach. The hangover was brutal.

When you arrived home and your mom and Harry were in the kitchen.

"You look terrible, Y/n. Are you okay?" Your mom asked with concern, but she knew you were hungover. Your bloodshot eyes met Harry's and the scowl on his face brought all your nausea back. You knew he was mad and he had only the worst assumption about what you'd done. He most likely thought you'd slept with someone at the party but you were in no condition to explain yourself.

"I've been better," you said as you poured yourself a glass of apple juice. You needed some sugar in your body.

After dragging yourself up to your room, you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. You were out for hours. By the time you'd woken up, the sun was beginning to set but you were feeling a lot better. Still hazy but the nausea was gone at least.

You dragged yourself downstairs and Harry was in the living room watching something on television. Your mom had left for work. You weren't sure how to bring up to him the pictures. You weren't sure you wanted to. So you pulled some things out of the fridge to make yourself something to eat, realizing you'd had nothing substantive all day.

Grilled cheese was the answer to your prayers. You stayed in the kitchen away from Harry while you ate. He was quiet. It made you nervous.

For your final terrible decision, you didn't approach Harry at all. You went back to your room to hide from him. You needed to straighten your thoughts out to figure out how to tell him everything. The answer was simple, you'd gotten very drunk. Nothing really that bad happened. But Harry wouldn't see it that way and you knew it. The photos and videos made you look very guilty.

You tucked yourself into your bed and turned on something to watch on your laptop to distract your fuzzy mind.

After watching a couple of episodes of the show you were enjoying Harry barged into your room.

"Your silence is telling, Y/n. How many guys did you fuck last night?" He was angry. He had been angry since you sent him those texts.

You rubbed your hands over your face and frowned, "I just didn't know how to approach the subject, Harry. I didn't sleep with anyone." You sat up.

Harry shook his head and looked down at his feet for a moment before looking back up at you, "I should have known. Should have never fallen for a college girl, especially my wife's daughter. That hurt, all those pictures. Were you trying to show me how you act when I'm not around? Is that it? After everything? You know how I feel about you."

Your brows were stitched together at his words. You hadn't expected him to say these things. You shook your head, "NO! God, no, Harry! I was just so drunk I didn't know what I was even doing! Please!" You shot from the bed and crossed the room to Harry and grabbed his hand but he yanked his arm back.

"You don't get to touch me ever again. This is over," he spoke darkly as he motioned between the two of you, "whatever this was." And then he turned and walked out of your bedroom.

You followed him downstairs and pleaded with him, "Harry! I swear! I didn't do anything. Not really! Those pictures were of me being so drunk I don't even remember doing any of that! Please, listen!"

Harry turned, his face was red as he shook his head, "No. You listen. You broke my heart. I should have known better. How can I ever believe you again? Should have never begun anything with you in the first place. Forget about us, Y/n. We're through."

You began to cry. You knew being with Harry was always just on the cusp of something that could break in half quickly. Just like now, this was the breaking point. Even though you never set out to do anything that would hurt him. He was hurt by what he thought you'd done.

"Harry, I didn't do anything with any of them. I would never. I don't want anyone but you!" You started to raise your voice as you were getting all bent out of shape. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt, Harry.

Harry laughed and sat down on the couch as he pulled his cell phone up and played a video of you rubbing your ass on Jake’s knees. He held it out for you to see it, "Then what is this? A lap dance? And the nudes, Y/n? Really?"

Harry sighed and shook his head, locking his phone and tossing it on the coffee table. He put his head in his hands and looked down as he continued, "I don't know why I trusted you so deeply. Why I let this go on between us as long as I have. But you're just an immature, young girl. We should never have done anything to begin with. This is partly my fault and I see it now."

You shook your head and hurried yourself to his side on the couch, "No, no, no, no... Harry, please. I love you. You know that. I swear on everything that I didn't do anything. I know the video..." but you stopped your sentence as you watched Harry got up from his spot on the couch and walk across the room.

"I don't need you near me right now. Please just go to your room or something. I don't even care to listen to your explanation."

Harry wouldn't listen. He wouldn't even let you stand close to him. You decided to leave it so you went back to your room and cried yourself to sleep. A hangover was better than the heartbreak you were feeling. You were devastated.

For the next few days Harry barely glanced in your direction. Even when your mom had gone to work he didn't approach you. Or he'd just leave the house altogether.

You'd never really felt this kind of heartache before. You'd never had a serious relationship with anyone. Except for Harry. And you both had admitted deep feelings for one another. You both admitted you loved one another and now this? You wanted to die. Your worst mistake was just getting so drunk that your inhibitions allowed you to do stupid things that made you look like an idiot.

Before the Fall semester started back up you decided to move back into your dorm. You had the option to stay at home and originally you planned on living your senior year at home to drive back and forth to campus, so you could be with Harry more. But now with Harry being cold and standoffish with you, you knew it was a better move to not be at home. To give Harry his space.

Your mom helped you pack up your car the night before you planned on taking everything to your dorm. Harry was out with friends. He'd been going out a lot more lately you noticed.

It had been about two weeks since the incident and you felt resigned to the outcome. You knew you'd lost him for good. And it was probably for the better anyway. He was not yours to have. He was your stepfather.

When Harry came home after midnight, your mom was on her way out the door for an emergency call. Harry was a little tipsy you could tell. He wasn't swaying or anything, but you could tell by his demeanor that he'd had a few.

You went up to your room and closed the door when your mom left. You didn't want to bother Harry. You felt ashamed about everything but there didn't seem like there was much you could do.

You decided to keep yourself busy, scrubbing your room from top to bottom. When you got to the floorboards you heard something that sounded like a crashing noise downstairs. You paused your movement and listened. Another crashing noise and stomping.

You slowly stood up and wondered whether or not you should go downstairs. You knew Harry didn’t want to see you but you also didn’t want him to be hurt or perhaps he needed help. You couldn’t just sit in our room if he needed help, no matter how angry he was with you.

When you got downstairs you heard what sounded like glass being shoved around on the linoleum flooring in the kitchen. Peeking around the corner you saw Harry with his back turned, sweeping up shards of glass and ceramic. He must have dropped something.

You were about to say something before you changed your mind and thought perhaps it would be better to just leave him. So you tiptoed backward toward the stairs when you heard him sniff and then let out a shaky breath. You stopped in your tracks and in silence waited to hear what you thought sounded a lot like someone crying.

Then you heard the unmistakable sound of his breaths coming out in small bursts. Your insides felt stomped on. You placed your palm on the wall and stood still, listening as Harry continued cleaning up the mess he’d made while crying quietly. The sound of Harry’s breaths coming out as he cried pulled tears from your own eyes. You didn’t know what to do. Should you go to him or let him be?

When the shards were dumped into the trash can all sounds ceased. Harry stopped moving about and you couldn’t hear him crying anymore.

You took the chance to peek around the corner into the kitchen and Harry was standing right there, a pout on his face as he wiped his eyes. Though, when he saw you he turned his back and walked toward the counter, placing his palms down on the surface and dropped his head to his chest.

“Harry? Are you okay?” You asked softly, not wanting to break the quiet of the moment. You had to make sure he was okay. His defeated body language told you he was not.

When he didn’t answer you slowly walked toward him into the kitchen until you were right behind him, “Did you hurt yourself?”

Harry sniffed and shook his head, “No. I’m okay. Go upstairs,” he sucked in a sharp breath as if speaking had drained his lungs of air and his voice came out weary and watery from his tears.

You gently, slowly placed your hand on his back and he jumped but did not move from your touch, “Harry. I… don’t want us to end things like this. Especially because my feelings for you haven’t changed and I would never do anything to hurt you,” your own tears began to fall down your face as you spoke.

Harry stayed still and kept his head down with his back still facing you.

You gave him a few moments to respond but when he didn’t you decided to go all in. A last-ditch effort to show him affection. To show him you hadn’t betrayed him the way he thought you had. You wrapped your arms around him, leaning your cheek on his back, hugging him tightly.

“Please Harry. I love you. I just want you to believe me when I tell you that and know that I never would do anything like you think I did. Never. You’re all I want, Harry.”

Harry’s movements were minuscule. You felt his stomach contract and the air fall from his mouth as he breathed in and out. Another sniffle caused his back to expand and then he cleared his throat, “I want to believe you, Y/n.”

When his hands came up to hold onto your forearms you held him tighter, “Then, believe me, Harry. Please,” you turned your face to kiss the material of his shirt on his back.

With a heavy sigh Harry stood up and you stepped back from him, dropping your arms away as he turned to face you. His eyes and his nose were red. You couldn’t help it when you pulled him down to you, planting a soft kiss on his lips and then wrapping your arms around his neck, putting your face into his chest.

Harry slowly brought his arms up and put them around your back. You both stood silently in the kitchen, holding one another, and soon, Harry was squeezing you tight to himself. It was crushing your chest but you didn’t care. You’d never tell him to let go.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. For not believing you,” his words were a whisper in your ear.

You shook your head, “I know what those pictures and videos looked like. But it was just dumb and I was doing dumb things. I would have never done anything with anyone, Harry. I swear it. Not a single one of those frat boys appeals to me. You’re the only one Harry.”

You nuzzled your face into his clavicle and felt him kiss your temple. Leaning your head back you both looked at one another with tears in your eyes.

You knew instantly that he believed you now. You both smiled softly and Harry brought his hands up to your face and wiped his thumbs over your cheeks, “I love you. I hate that you’re leaving now because I was such an ass. I wish I would have listened to you.”

You nodded and frowned, “I can still stay here every weekend. The campus isn’t far. I don’t really want to be away from you, Harry.”

Harry dipped down to kiss you and the mood changed in a flash. Suddenly the haste of the kiss turned into groping hands and fingers undoing buttons and zippers. The frenzy of the moment was aching. Your head spun at the fast turn of events.

Your shorts were tossed into the floor, Harry’s jeans were unbuttoned and his underwear was pushed down to reveal his big dick. He lifted you to the counter and stepped in between your legs, pressing his mouth to yours once again. The searing kiss was wet and hard.

Harry brought a hand down to your panties and pushed the fabric to the side to expose your pussy and he began to run his fingers up and down through your slit. You weren’t wet at that moment but it didn’t take long for you to get there. Harry’s mouth on yours and then his lips on your neck, his fingers running over your clit, his dick growing hard and pressing into your thigh…

“Fuck me, Harry…” you whispered as Harry sucked a bruise onto your neck and you brought a hand down to his engorged length and pulled at it, wiping your thumb over his crown.

“Want you soaked for me first, baby…” he spoke against your neck.

You shook your head, “I need you now. Please…” you whined.

Harry backed away and grasped his dick, pressing his tip through your crease. You both looked down to watch as his wide head grew shiny from your growing wetness.

You wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled him close, “Please.”

Harry groaned and met your entrance before pushing inside of you slowly. He kept his eyes on yours as he entered you and you realized he was crying still. So were you.

You reached up to wipe his tears with one hand and Harry turned his face to kiss your hand, still keeping his eyes on you. The stretch and burn of him inside of you before you were totally ready to receive him felt like what you deserved. It hurt but it felt right.

“It’s so big, Daddy. I love how you feel inside of me,” you whimpered your words and Harry gasped once he looked back down to where you were wrapped around him.

He backed out a little before plunging in deeper, working his way into you little by little.

Your bottom on the countertop was sliding back and forth with each of his plunges and you reached down to rub your clit.

Harry never sped up his thrusts. He kept his strokes long and deep. He looked from your eyes to where he was filling your pussy, “M’gonna miss this, baby,” he pressed his forehead to yours as he continued pushing into your cunt, “promise me each weekend you’ll be here so I can have you. So I can see you.”

You panted your words, “I promise you,” you were unable to say much more as he filled you to the brim, his cock impossibly hard and long inside of you. You grew wetter and wetter until he was easily gliding into you, the sound of his shaft plunging into your vagina was in rhythm with his strokes.

When he put his mouth on yours you felt your body tremble. Your fingers worked your clit and his cock hit the right spots on each rock of his hips. Your heart was pounding and Harry began to shake, his thrusts slowing and getting out of cadence.

With your tongues clashing and licking and mouths sucking you both came at the same time. You didn’t let up from the kiss as you came on Harry’s cock. He stilled his hips, pushing himself into you as far as he could reach, and whined into your mouth as he poured his come deep into your core.

That night was another turning point. Harry had admitted before then that his heart belonged to you, but now everything with him felt fragile like thin glass, easy to break. You were leaving for school the following day and would only see one another on the weekends. The uncertainty of the future didn’t matter, though. All that mattered to you at that moment was that Harry was yours again.

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[gayloringinplainsight]

why is all of your "evidence" so contridictory? if she came out on lesbian visibility day and all her past relationships are pr beards, why does it matter the bisexual hints she drops? AND if she IS bisexual, why come out on lesbian visibility day and have so many lesbian flag themed hints? why would she be in pr beard relationships if shes openly bisexual?

I DONT CARE ABOUT TAYLOR SWIFT. I DONT CARE ABOUT HER SEXUALITY. IF SHE IS OR IS NOT LGBT DOESNT HAVE ANY BEARING ON MY LIFE UNLESS SHE STOPS POLLUTING THE EARTH WHEN SHE COMES OUT. JUST EXPLAIN HOW THE EVIDENCE WORKS. NOT IN LYRICS. NOT MUSIC VIDEOS. NOT PICTURES FROM INTSTAGRAM. NOT SOMEONE ELSE'S TIK TOKS. NOT HINTS. JUST TANGIBLE PROOF.

Okay first idk why you need to scream at me. Calm the fuck down. And if you don't care about Taylor Swift then I'm not sure why you're on my blog screaming in all caps about her, but let's do this anyways cause I'm in a verbose mood.

Second, it's not my evidence, it's her evidence and her flagging, and I have eyes and a brain capable of a modicum of critical thinking.

And I don't think any of the evidence is contradictory but I kind of understand what you're getting at.

So let me begin by saying that I have no strong opinions on if she's bi or pan or lesbian or fluid or whatever. I think there was a lot of bi flagging in the 1989 era, both bi and pan flagging during the Lover era, and then there's been a lot more lesbian flagging during the Midnights/eras tour period. So if I had to venture a guess I'd say she used to identify as bi and now identifies as lesbian, but I don't feel super strongly about it and I also don't think there's really enough evidence to say for sure one way or another, only that there's more than enough evidence to be certain she's some flavor of queer.

What additionally contributes to the lack of clear answers on labelling is the fact that she does flagging on lesbian visibility day, and then mixes bi flagging and pan flagging in the same music video. But I don't think it's fair to say that if she's (for the sake of argument) bi, then she can only do bi-specific flagging. She can do any kind of flagging she wants, and that doesn't diminish the queer message she's coding. It might also be that she simply identifies as queer or unlabeled, and therefore feels free to mix and match all of these things. Or maybe her label is more complex and reliant on the split attraction model, like bi-romantic lesbian, or homo-romantic bisexual/pansexual.

To address some of your specific statements, she didn't "come out on lesbian visibility day". At least not explicitly. But she flagged very hard and said something that could be construed as coming out in a glass-closeted kind of way.

We also don't know that all of her public relationships have been PRships. They might have been, and I think a lot of them were, but we don't actually know. I think you're also asking, if every public relationship with men was PR, why would she ever flag as bi? But just because the relationships we know about were potentially PR doesn't mean there couldn't have been relationships with men that we don't know about. A great example of this is Martin Johnson, who many people think was a real relationship (and the muse for Dear John).

All this goes back to the point that she can do any kind of flagging she wants. She's not restricted to bi flagging if she's bi, or lesbian flagging if she's a lesbian. Perhaps she vacillates between labels. Perhaps her labels are more complex like bisexual lesbian. Perhaps in addition to whatever her own label is, she wants to give visibility to other queer identities.

Just because we don't know her exact brand of queer doesn't mean the evidence is contradictory. It means we don't know her exact brand of queer.

Lastly, to address your final demand where you want tangible proof except not lyrics or videos or social media posts or hints. Which is a request that's not really based in reality. Because that's exactly where the tangible proof lies. It's in the enormous pile of queer flagging that can't be explained away. It's in the performances where she sings "I want her midnights." It's in her panoply of rainbow outfits. It's in statements like "Gay pride…makes me, me!" It's in all the mv scenes of glass closeting. It's in Jack accidentally outing her. It's in the rep prologue. It's in lyrics that reference hairpin drops and secrecy and religious guilt and fear of being found out. It's in her literally telling us "I prefer hiding in plain sight." This is all queer flagging and if you know how to read it then you can read it. And if you can't or refuse to, then that's on you. If you want to wait for her to shout her identity from the rooftops before you think there's tangible proof, then feel free to wait for that day. I think it will come. But in the meantime, queer flagging IS proof. And the sheer volume and scope and clarity of it makes it tangible.