#Familiar Cinema Club

[livehorses]

Easter-Like classics that can never be missed in our Familiar Cinema Club

First, we have all the Hollywood-Sword and Sandal like classics that we watch between Lent, the Holy Week and Easter, being mainly and in a historically accurate chronological order:

Joseph King of Dreams

(Mandatory Prequel watching)

The Ten Commandments (1956)

Ben Hur (1959)

The Robe (1953)

Quo Vadis (1951)

Then we watch some other movies that we kinda relate with the celebration, like:

The Fiddler On The Roof (1971)

BBC's The Chronicles of Narnia series

(My mom doesn't like the Disney adaptation)

The Secret Garden (1993)

For a strange relation of ideas, because my oldest brother was transcribing in the middle of the Holy Week one year, the orchestration of the movie for a streaming with live orchestra,

Howl's Moving Castle

We even have for a traditional Easter Sunday breakfast, Sophie's eggs with bacon.

And the main event of Holy Saturday, the most expected movie of the season...

The Prince of Egypt

[radio-4-is-static]

STRESS ME | Yojiro Noda

誰だってできることは誰かに譲る　 誰もできないことやる羽生結弦

日出る　この国に生まれた　 意味案ずる　生まれたからには

///

I yield what anybody can do And do what no one else can do like Hanyu Yuzuru

Thinking about the meaning of being born, as I have In the land of the Rising Sun

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 7 - Girl of The Season | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.3k

You went out to dinner with Jack, Noah, Trent, and a few more of their friends. At first you didn’t want to go but Trent texted you that he better see you tonight. It made you giddy when he followed up...

It was sweet, playful, and everything you’d wanted. The night had started with excitement, a thrill of anticipation as you’d read more of Trent’s message telling you he’d have a hard time keeping his hands off you. It all had you feeling like a schoolgirl. You’d gone out thinking it’d be fun—a way to let loose and enjoy the easy chemistry that had been brewing between you and Trent, even with everyone else around. You imagined the night like any other was lately, filled with laughter and stolen glances that no one else would notice. The evening buzzed with energy, drinks flowing and stories spinning across the table. The group banter was easy, familiar. But as you sat at the table, laughing along to their stories, everything changed in an instant. One boy looked at Trent and asked a question that’s intent was harmless but catastrophic to you. 

“Bro, so who's the girl of the season right now?” The question was referring to something you didn’t know about. It hung in the air, a casual laugh among them, but it made you freeze. You tried to keep your face neutral, not wanting to react to something you didn’t quite understand. Trent shifted in his seat, letting out a small laugh as he shrugged it off, but the other boys egged him on, teasing him as if they were letting you in on some kind of inside joke. Trent couldn’t do anything but let it play out. He felt helpless and stupid at the mercy of his own history. You knew Trent got with plenty of other girls before you but you had no idea it was so routine. That he’d apparently find a girl ahead of each football season began so he’d have someone locked in for when he was away and because he’d be too busy to go out and find someone- it was convenience not love. 

“Yeah, just share her now, mate. Or is she not locked in yet” Noah laughed. They kept laughing and adding to it, casually throwing around details as if this ritual was common knowledge, as if finding a girl for convenience was routine. It felt hollow, the notion that Trent had a pattern, that every season he had someone by his side just as a placeholder for when he was busy.

“Girl of the season huh?” You quipped with a raised brow. You felt sick but presented just teasing.  You tried to keep your tone light, even though your pulse was racing. You looked to Trent for clarity, a reassurance he didn’t immediately give. The boys kept talking. Even Jack joining asking if it was maybe going to be the girl he rejected i.e you. i.e the girl Trent had told them about after your incident at the club. Your heart sank, you wanted to cry but you bit back tears and spoke up once more. Inside you felt horrible. Were you merely his ‘girl or the season?’ “So… is there a contract?” you asked, sarcasm laced in your voice. “When’s the deadline day?” You quipped. But the weight of the situation bore down on you, leaving you feeling like you were nothing more than an option, something temporary. You were trying to join the banter just to survive, even though you were crumbling inside.

“Y/N it’s not that serious, the transfer window is always open” one boy laughed. All the boys laughed, not sensing the discomfort behind your smile. They couldn’t possibly know this information hurt you. They didn’t know everything that had happened behind closed doors.

“Yeah, it’s rolling. I was just curious because Trenty usually has his girl locked in by this point. Season’s started. You know a lucky lady to keep him… entertained,” Noah laughed, the others nodding in agreement. “She’s lucky… and convenient. He’s a busy man, after all.” He joked further. You felt the blood drain from your face, but you forced a smile. 

“Is it now? Wow… sounds really really good for you ” you sarcastically quipped. 

“Nah, lads relax… it’s not.” Trent tried to stop this. He could feel your tension even though it wasn’t showing on your composed face. Trent cut in, sensing the shift, his voice softening as he tried to redirect the conversation. His eyes flicked over you with a trace of panic and concern but most of all guilt. But the boys continued, chuckling about his past conquests, reeling off names as if recounting game stats. 

“Yeah remember the year you won the Champions league you were cooking with girls. Lol.  Michele, Keely, Taylor…” Noah added. It was a boys dinner and suddenly you realized that and they didn’t. Noah forgot about the obvious crush you had on Trent. Noah meant no harm but this was making you sick. The illusion of intimacy shattered in your mind, leaving raw insecurity and a sudden urge to escape. Trent sensed it, reaching for your hand under the table, a dangerous move but it was the only thing he could do, his touch gentle, but you pulled back, suddenly feeling exposed. Trying to keep your composure, you excused yourself and walked quickly to the bathroom. Your hands shook as you closed the door, the glossy, tiled walls offering little comfort. The hurt hit you all at once, and you sank onto the floor, your breath hitching as you tried to hold back tears, feeling crushed under the weight of it all. The thought that you’d been so easily slotted into a role in his life—temporary, interchangeable, convenient—cut deeper than you’d imagined. Had you let yourself believe you were different to him? That you mattered more?  In the solitude of the bathroom, the truth crashed over you in waves. It wasn’t just that he had been with other girls before—of course he had. But this casual talk, the way they all laughed as if his relationships were nothing more than placeholders, as if this ‘girl of the season’ title was just part of the cycle… it made you feel disposable. You wrapped your arms around yourself, hot tears blurring your vision. You felt naive, stupid even, for letting yourself fall for someone who’d apparently seen you as convenient. For thinking you were different. It felt foolish to imagine you could hold a place in his life that was anything more than temporary. In the cold, sterile quiet of the bathroom, you replayed every tender moment you’d shared with Trent, every laugh, every late-night conversation, every quiet touch that had felt so real. And now, it felt like it had all been a facade. How could you have been so naive?

After a few deep breaths, you pulled yourself together, standing up and dabbing at your eyes. You couldn’t hide out forever, no matter how much you wanted to. You checked your reflection, steeling yourself, and returned to the table, forcing a breezy smile as you slid back into your seat, a mask of indifference firmly in place. But as you settled in, Trent’s gaze caught yours, worry etched across his face. He’d seen the hurt lingering in your eyes, even as you tried to hide it. The question of whether he cared—whether he’d ever care as deeply as you did—hung between you, unspoken but heavy. And in that moment, you realized you didn’t want to be anyone’s ‘girl of the season.’ Not even his. Trent looked at you, his gaze intense, worry etched into his features. He didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t do anything and you loathed him for it. You averted your eyes, focusing instead on your drink, anything to avoid his gaze. Your heart was screaming that you weren’t. You’d wanted so badly for him to see you as more, for what you had together to mean something real. And now, you weren’t sure if it ever could. 

The night had unraveled faster than you could process, and the hurt simmered, sharp and bitter, as the dinner ended. You didn’t look at Trent once more the rest of the night, you completely ignored him. Trent’s presence had been an ache next to you that you ignored, refusing to look his way, refusing to acknowledge him as if somehow that might make the pain hurt less. You were barely holding it together when you all stood up to leave. The others filed out, laughing and talking, but you pulled Jack aside and asked if he could drive you to Layla’s instead. Jack chuckled, a teasing grin on his face. 

“Why did Trent even buy you that car if I’m always the one driving you around?” he teased, completely unaware of the turmoil swirling inside you. You forced a smile, ready to brush it off, but Trent stepped in, his voice firm.

“I’m heading that way, Y/N. Let me drop you at Lay’s,” he said. You snapped back a quick ‘No,’ trying to keep your tone dismissive, trying to make it sound like you just didn’t want to be a bother. But Jack insisted, scoffed teasingly,  rolling his eyes.

“Go with him, Y/N. I don’t want to drive across town,” he said, half-joking, his car keys dangling in his hand as he made a show of locking his car door to prevent you from climbing in. Frustration bubbled up, and you were close to tears, caught between trying to hold it together and wanting to break down. 

“Jack, please. Just drive me home then,” you whispered, your voice barely hiding the tremble. But after a bit more back and forth, with Jack being relentless and Trent silently waiting, the rest of the boys’ cars pulled out, Jack’s included, leaving you and Trent alone in the dark, quiet car park. The silence in the parking lot was thick, broken only by the distant sound of traffic and the soft hum of streetlights above. You stood there, feeling exposed, raw from the dinner that had stripped away your illusions. You wanted to hide, to be anywhere but here, but Trent’s gaze held you still. His eyes, so familiar and usually so gentle, were clouded with an intensity that made your chest ache.

“Come here,” he said quietly but sternly, his hand reaching out for you, his voice steady but soft. Trent was still, his face serious, any of the laughter from dinner completely gone.

“No,” you said sharply, pulling back. Your voice cracked, and you bit down hard on your lip to keep the tears at bay. “Just… don’t, Trent. Just leave me alone. I’m not going with you. I’ll call an uber.” You snipped. You wanted to shout, scream at him for everything you’d heard tonight and for the pain it had left you with, but you were too tired, too heartbroken to manage anything louder than a whisper. “Please leave me alone.” You whispered once more as the tears on your lash line finally tipped over.  You felt the tears streaming down now, the anger and hurt tumbling out as you cried, unable to contain it any longer. But he wasn’t giving up. 

“Y/N, look at me,” he said firmly, stepping closer, his voice firmer this time. “Do you know what year I won the Champions League?” His question made you flinch; the reminder of the stories his friends had told, of the girls they’d listed, was like salt in a wound. He was asking you to recall the very thing that hurt. He asked like the question mattered, like it would fix anything. You swallowed hard, struggling to keep your voice steady.

 “I don’t care, Trent,” you whimpered, wiping a hand across your tear-streaked face.You glared at him, your eyes blazing with hurt. And then a different emotion appeared in full force. “I don’t care, T. I don’t care about any of it,” you snapped, wiping angrily at the tears falling faster. But he wasn’t deterred. His jaw was set, his eyes locked on yours, determined to make you hear him.

“The year I won the Champions League,” he began slowly, voice low but steady, “was the year you had that serious boyfriend.” His words hung between you like a confession, and for a second, you forgot to breathe. For context, he wasn't referring to Josh. You remembered that year — the love you’d thought you had found with another boy, the trust that had shattered when you’d learned of his cheating. But why was Trent bringing it up now?  “I couldn’t stand it, Y/N,” he said, his voice softening, breaking just slightly. “I couldn’t stay home watching you be his. I needed… anything, anyone, to stop thinking about you with him. It hurt.” He explained but it wasn’t enough.

“Oh, am I supposed to feel bad for you, Trent? You needed a distraction while I was dating someone? He was cheating on me, okay?” The anger that had simmered in you suddenly flared up, burning bright.  “So poor you. I’m so sorry that you had to fill your fucking bed with so many girls. And mind you so many that you couldn’t even be asked to be there for me during one of the worst years of my life. Trent, he was cheating on me! And now… now I’m here again, wondering if I’m just another ‘distraction’ for you.” You choked, the tears coming faster now, the memories making the hurt sting even more. “He had other women, and you’re doing the same thing. I’m never enough, Trent! You all always need someone else. Something more than me” You yelled generalizing all men. You were lumping Trent with every other man.

“Baby… please.” He begged with a pet name that made you wince at the minute.  And while it wasn’t entirely correct what you were saying, there was truth in it. You took a step back, throwing your hands up, cutting him off. 

“No! This is exactly what it is, Trent. I am never enough. I give everything, and it’s never enough for you… for any of you!” The words came out in a yell, louder than you intended, and in that moment, you couldn’t stop the full on sobs, letting them spill over, hot and blinding as they streamed down your face.

“Y/N, it’s not like that,” he said gently, reaching out to you, but you stepped back, crossing your arms as if to shield yourself from the pain. He shook his head, his eyes pleading, as he stepped closer trying again.. 

“This isn’t right,” you said, voice hoarse from crying. Trent was silent, his face losing its color as he took in the weight of your words. “We need to stop. I can’t… I can’t do this to Jack. Lying to him when he’s given me everything, and I’m giving it all to you, and to you I’m just… nothing.” The words cracked, a final, painful admission, the weight of it all too heavy to bear. Trent’s face crumpled with remorse, his gaze full of guilt, and without a word, he stepped into you, and this time, when he reached for you, you didn’t resist. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, and for a moment, you let yourself be held, resting your forehead against his chest as you breathed in his familiar scent amidst your tears. He was warm, solid, and despite everything, being in his arms felt safe. You fought him for a moment, weakly pushing against his chest, but he held on, his grip steady and strong, grounding you as you let the tears fall. Shame and guilt washed over him, silent and heavy, as he held you close, feeling the depth of what he’d let happen. And for a moment, the world fell away, the pain eased by the warmth of his arms, though neither of you could find words to fix it. 

“I know I don’t deserve you, but I promise… it’s not like that. It never has been with you. You’re not just another girl. I’ve waited so long, Y/N…”  He quietly whispered, voice thick with emotion as he gently stroked your back. “I should’ve done more to stop it, I just… I don’t know but I know I fucked up at dinner. I know I’m not doing enough but I also don’t know how to make this better, but I want to. I want this. I want you. And I swear, it’s not a game for me.” His fingers brushed through your hair, his voice a soothing murmur, and you let yourself lean into him, the weight of your pain easing slightly. But as he held you, another ache rose in your chest, heavier, more real. 

“It’s just… Jack is all I have, Trent,” you said, voice muffled against his chest. “You and Jack… you’re all I have left.” And the words tasted like truth, a bittersweet reminder of everything you’d lost, of the fragile balance you were trying so hard to keep. “I can’t do this.” You whimpered. “Not for something that isn’t even real to you.” You whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, a soft, tender gesture that made your heart clench. 

“I don’t want you to feel like…. like this isn’t real to me. If it’s even possible it’s so much more real than I ever thought possible and I’m sorry I’m shit at handling it.” His words hung in the cool night air, full of promise, and as he held you, the quiet between you was thick with things unsaid. You closed your eyes, letting yourself believe him for a moment, letting yourself hope that somehow, you wouldn’t have to choose, that somehow, you could keep them both. His arms were a steady warmth around you, and though the pain hadn’t faded completely, in this moment, it felt like maybe… just maybe… there was a way forward.

The car hummed softly beneath you as Trent pulled out of the parking space, his hand warm and steady around yours, grounding you in a way that was both comforting and bittersweet. The weight of the evening still sat heavily on your shoulders, the words exchanged at dinner echoing in your mind, each one pulling at the fragile threads of the trust you’d placed in him. But now, in this quiet moment, his hand was solid in yours, and that simple touch brought a calm you desperately needed. You shifted in your seat, leaning into him, feeling the warmth of his shoulder against your cheek as you closed your eyes, letting the silence settle between you. He brushed his thumb softly over your knuckles, a small but constant reassurance that he was here, that he was with you. The faint streetlights casted a gentle glow over the car’s interior, illuminating his face in the soft shadows, and you felt yourself easing just slightly, even as your heart continued to ache.

“Do you think…. Erm, T…Do you think I could just go to your house tonight?” you whispered, barely audible stumbling to get to the ask out. “I’m really sad, and I don’t want to sleep alone.” Your voice wavered, thick with tears, and you sniffled, trying to steady yourself. He looked at you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he took in the vulnerability you were offering, no walls, no defenses. It’s not that you didn’t want to see Layla. It was just that you knew if you told her what you heard tonight she’d have an opinion and it wasn’t that you didn’t value her thoughts, you just needed to get yours in order before you debriefed. Was Trent’s bed the best place to sort those? No, but you wanted his comfort, he’d always been your comfort. 

“Yeah, pretty girl,” he murmured, a tenderness in his eyes that was almost enough to make you believe everything could be okay. “You can come be with me tonight. You can sleep with me whenever you want, okay? My baby.” His words wrapped around you like a promise, one that felt as real as the warmth of his hand around yours, and you nodded, your head finding its way back to his shoulder. For a while, you just stayed like that, nestled into him as he drove, his thumb tracing soothing patterns over your hand resting on his thigh. The city lights blurred softly as he drove, casting gentle reflections against the car windows, and you let yourself sink into the quiet comfort of his presence, each moment a balm to the ache in your heart.

When you reached his house, he parked and didn’t let go of your hand as you both made your way inside, guiding you gently through the door, his touch never wavering. Once inside, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You melted into him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time all night, you felt yourself relax, the weight of the world slipping just a little as he held you. 

He guided you to his bedroom and suddenly a big smile pulled on his face. Tiredly you asked him why he was smiling like that. You weren’t in the mood and really weren’t in the mood for any cheek. But that gorgeous cheeky smile all made sense once you were stood in Trent’s ensuite, holding a brand new pink Goyard wash bag in your hands. Despite everything weighing on your mind, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. You traced the soft pink leather with your fingers, glancing back at him with a puzzled smile as he came into the room, his own grin lighting up his face.

“T… what is this?” you asked, holding it up. He chuckled, stepping closer.

“It’s the same one I have, because, obviously, it’s the best one,” he explained, “mine’s white but I got it for you in pink so it’s like a Mr. and Mrs. thing, you know?” The sincerity in his voice melted something inside you. You turned and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

“Go on, open it though,” he urged gently, nodding toward the wash bag, his eyes bright with anticipation. You hadn’t even realized the weight of it, realizing that clearly there were things inside of it as well. You raised a brow, a little surprised—did he really go beyond the bag itself? Unzipping it, you peeked inside and felt an instant laugh bubbling up as you took in all the familiar beauty products you’d mentioned to him the other night, each one carefully packed. You looked up at him in disbelief, a smile stretching across your face as he rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “I actually had to ask my mum to come with me,” he confessed, laughing as he watched your expression. “Didn’t want to look like a complete idiot in the beauty section.” You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought, picturing him awkwardly shuffling through the aisles, trying to get it all right. 

“You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, shaking your head with affection. Trent pulled you closer, his hand resting on the small of your back as he looked down at you, his voice softer now. 

“You’re my only girl, alright? You know you always have been. I’m sorry that I did things that made it seem like you weren’t. I’m sorry it took me so long to show you that…Only girl I’d ever pay that kind of money for ounces of cream for.” He laughed, clearly mocking the price tag on your La Mer moisturizer. “But for you… anything.” And with that, the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold back started spilling over. You wiped at them with the back of your hand, giggling through your sniffles, embarrassed but touched beyond words.

“Stop, baby!” he laughed, reaching up to gently swipe a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “Please no more tears. I hate when you cry so, so much,” he whispered, pulling you close again.

“Sorry,” you murmured, a soft giggle slipping out as you looked up at him. You stood on your tiptoes, pressing a tender kiss to his lips, feeling the warmth and safety of him radiate through you. Trent brushed his nose against yours, his hand cradling your cheek as he whispered, 

“I’ve got you, pretty girl. Always.” And for the first time in a while, you felt your heart settle, the ache easing just a little as you held onto him, feeling the promise of his words wrap around you.

You crawled into Trent’s bed, pulling back the covers, and let out a surprised laugh when you saw the smooth, cool silk pillowcases he’d swapped in just for you. Trent stood nearby, watching your reaction with a smirk, his hands on his hips.

“See?” he teased, puffing up a little as if he’d won a major victory. “Got the silk pillowcases and everything. I’m in, baby.” He cooed proudly. This act so clearly showed he was making an effort. You couldn’t help but feel your heart melt at the gesture, a warmth spreading across your chest. 

“You actually do the most,” you said, shaking your head, but the grin on your face gave you away. The fact that he’d followed through with something so small, something that made you feel comforted and at home, touched you deeply. He moved closer, and you reached out, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent—a mix of his cologne and the lingering warmth of the day. He wrapped his strong arms around you, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek.

“Thank you,” you whispered softly, your voice barely audible. You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. “Thank you for liking me… for doing all of this.” His eyes softened, and he gazed at you with such tenderness that it made your throat tighten. 

“Always,” he murmured. He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones, then kissed your forehead. The touch was gentle, lingering, as if he wanted to press his feelings directly into your skin. You both climbed into bed, and as you got comfortable, you found yourself settling halfway on top of him, your back resting against his side, your legs tangled with his. His hand found its way to your collarbone, tracing light, lazy patterns that sent shivers down your spine. His touch was calming, grounding you in a way that made you feel safer than you had in a long time. In the dim light, with only the moon casting soft shadows across the room, you found the courage to ask something that had been weighing on your mind. 

“T... Do you think…” you started, your voice hesitant, “we’ll ever be able to really go out together? Like, just… be out in the open?” You asked. The vulnerability in your voice made Trent pause. He turned his head slightly to look at you, his expression earnest. A gentle smile pulled at his lips. 

“Yeah, course if you want that,” he said, his voice full of quiet conviction. His fingers paused in their gentle tracing, and he shifted slightly to look at you more directly. “I mean… things have been good between us I thought but I also didn’t know you wanted that. For us to like go on a date or anything. I wasn’t sure if you liked the secrecy. I don’t know what you thought.” He explained to you sheepishly. Clearly things worked well between you in the bedroom and while you had no problem discussing that, it was also so glaringly obvious there was more to this relationship than just the sex… you just hadn’t said it yet. You bit your lip, feeling both shy and exposed. 

“I do,” you admitted. “I mean, I know it’s complicated, but… I just want to be with you.” He smiled again, this time with a deeper, knowing affection. 

“I want that too. I really do,” he told you. “I just didn’t know how serious you wanted this to be. But if you want it… then I’m in. Silk pillow cases, dates, whatever you want.” His words made your heart flutter, and for a moment, the world felt a little brighter. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but this time they were happy ones. You didn’t say anything more, afraid that if you spoke, you might start crying for real. Instead, you leaned in and kissed his jaw, your lips lingering as you tried to show him everything you couldn’t put into words. That night, there was no urgency between you, no rush to tear each other’s clothes off or tumble into anything wild. Instead, there was a softness that blanketed the room, a shared vulnerability that felt like a bridge between your hearts. You both exchanged gentle, lingering kisses that were more about comfort and closeness than anything else, the tender brush of lips and shared warmth easing the hurt from earlier. As you settled into the soft sheets, the familiar comfort of his bed easing the ache in your chest. His hands gentle as they traced soothing patterns over your back. You curled into him, your legs tangling with his, seeking out every ounce of warmth and comfort he could offer. As you laid there, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.  “I want you.”  He murmured softly. “And only you. Always have.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart squeeze, and you found yourself finally breathing a little easier. And as you drifted to sleep, his arms wrapped securely around you, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you could allow yourself to believe in him, in this, in a future where he was more than just a fleeting presence in your life. You squeezed his hand once more, a silent promise to yourself that tonight, at least, you could find peace in his arms. When you finally drifted off, you did so with your head on his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, your cheek pressed against the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Your face was relaxed, your pouty bottom lip just barely brushing his skin. Trent lay there, his hand stroking your back in gentle circles, the other cradling the back of your head. He pressed soft kisses to your hairline, whispering to you even though you were already half-asleep. He stayed awake longer, watching the soft, peaceful expression on your face as you dreamed. Guilt twisted in his chest as he thought about how hurt you’d been earlier, how you’d tried to hide it but couldn’t quite keep the pain from seeping through. He wished he could take it all back, erase the moments that made you doubt him. The memory of your stricken face during dinner haunted him, and he knew he had to make it right. His mind began to work on a plan, a way to take you out on a real date, one that wouldn’t be about sneaking around or hiding. He wanted to show you off, to be open about how much you meant to him. He imagined a perfect night, one that would make you smile so brightly that he could forget the hurt he’d caused. As he held you, his chest tightening with how much he cared for you, he promised himself he’d make it happen. You were his only girl, always had been, and he was determined to show you that in every way possible. Even if he couldn’t fix the past, he’d make sure the future was full of moments where you never had to doubt what you meant to him.

After that dinner, things settled back into something you could only describe as uneasy but fine. You still were living this double life, lying to Jack. Keeping the extent of your new life beyond the first fuck from Layla. On the inside of houses, the confines of bedrooms, everything felt perfect; the chemistry with Trent was undeniable, and whenever you were together, it felt like the two of you were building something real. But the moment he left, that foundation started to shake. Alone, doubts crept in, the taunting whispers of insecurity that left you questioning every detail. The laughs and comments from the dinner echoing in your mind. Was this how he made every ‘girl of the season’ feel? Were they all secrets he kept? His history loomed over him. It made you wonder, was this just the same story with you? Only now, Jack's little sister had the lead role, the fact making you feel more self conscious of how he viewed you.  

Layla's constant questions, innocent but probing, made it worse. She didn't know the real extent of what was going on, only that something had happened. She knew you fucked but after that… you kept your lips sealed. Saying you weren't sure either, which was a half truth... you didn't but you also were omitting the fact that you were spending night's together. And while you wanted to confide in her, every part of you held back, afraid of exposing too much-afraid it would all unravel the moment it wasn't hidden. More people couldn’t know, it was too risky. The secrecy felt safe but also confining, and your chest ached every time you thought of it. The double life weighed on you more than you'd ever let on to Trent. And yet, when he messaged you during his away game, that familiar excitement flared up, and you felt that ache turn into something else, a want to remind him of you, make him feel how much chemistry you two had. For the moment you were hidden but after the dinner, after his promises you wanted to make sure he was certain. He texted asking to call you. You were nervous to agree but who wouldn’t want to facetime Trent Alexander-Arnold in bed. You weren’t sure how to act at first but then you decided– You wanted to make it clear you wanted him. You wanted to make him want you. Apprehensive but determined, you sifted through your wardrobe quickly, finding the boldest, most daring piece of sleepwear you owned. It was underwear disguised as something casual. You finally sat in front of the camera, as his call pinged through your phone. You answered, and immediately his jaw dropped. 

"Oh my fucking days," he murmured, his voice low, a mixture of shock and hunger flashing in his eyes. The look he gave you sent a thrill through your entire body.

"Hi," you cooed, feigning innocence as you adjusted your posture slightly, giving him an even better view. A small, mischievous smile tugged at your lips. You wanted this to be memorable. Trent leaned closer to the screen, shaking his head with disbelief and lust flaring behind his eyes.

"You look unreal. Fucking hell," he said, his gaze tracing every curve as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. You felt a rush of power, the distance fading as he soaked up every detail of your look. But it wasn’t just the look, it was everything; the clearly recently lotioned skin, the faux innocence, the vibes were just everything Trent would want. 

"I just want to make sure you don’t think of me only as Jack's sister." You met his eyes, holding his gaze as you whispered. The words hung in the air, a truth you'd wanted to tell him for a while figuring now while you had his attention would work.

"Trust me, he's the last thing I'm thinking about right now," Trent chuckled, still in awe, his eyes glued to you.

"I hope you’re not thinking about other girls while you’re away," you murmured almost as a test but simultaneously a tease running a hand slowly along your raised collarbone over to your shoulder, playing with the delicate strap of your bra as his breath visibly caught.

"Trust me, they're the last thing I'm thinking about," he repeated, his tone shifting, voice raw. “I don’t know who you’re even talking about, baby.” You could see it in his eyes-there was no one else he wanted right now. And that single, unspoken promise was all you needed to feel. “I don’t want any of that. You know that.I want you. Don’t play me, baby.” He smirked, his voice dropping, filled with a frustrated need that made your pulse quicken.

“I’m not playing.” You stretched out languidly, letting your voice drop to a purr. “Just thought you might like a little reminder of what’s back at home for you.” You told him. 

“Trust me, I don’t need one.” His voice softened, a hint of a smile in it now. “You’re all I think about. So don’t tease me like this. Oh my days, Y/N…” His eyes lit even more as the bra top was practically falling off. 

“Yeah?” you asked, feigning a nonchalant surprise. You could almost feel the tension through the phone. As you toyed with Trent, pulling down the thin strap of your bra, his breath hitched. The teasing, the slow build—it was intoxicating, leaving him hanging on every move you made. He was completely fixated as you gradually peeled away each item of clothing, your body on full display, leaning back against your bed, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smile. His reaction was instant, a low groan escaping him.

"Oh my god," he breathed, raking a hand over his curls, unable to tear his eyes away. Just as you began to lower the phone whilst opening your legs. A shiver ran through you. Feeling bolder than ever with what you were about to do. 

"Hold on-my phone's about to d-” You glanced away from the camera, then, without warning, hung up, pretending the call had dropped. Your phone dead. The silence that followed was deafening on his end. For a moment, Trent just blinked, waiting for you to reappear, only to realize you weren't coming back. It dawned on him that you'd left him high and dry, and he almost laughed in disbelief but the strain in his jogger was excruciating. This wasn’t funny at all. Not to him. It wasn’t long before the messages began flooding your phone, his name lighting up your screen as he called again and again.

Trent was spinning out. He couldn’t believe that just happened. You settled back against the pillows, heart pounding as you watched the texts roll in. Your phone buzzed—one, two, three times in a row again and again. 

But then you turned it off though to play the part. Still, you laid there opting to grab your laptop  staring at his messages flood in with a smile. This felt good. It was so easy to believe him when you were together, to let yourself feel like the only girl on his mind. But alone, doubts crept in, filling the space he left behind. Still, you couldn’t deny the thrill of making him wait for once. He called but your phone was off or ‘dead’ in his mind. He prayed you’d fucking charge it now. He was desperate for you and only you. He was almost embarrassed he had called and texted so many times but he wanted you so badly but as time ticked on he knew this was not an accident, this was chess, Begrudgingly he took matters into his own hands literally.  Hours later, you finally responded to his barrage of messages, typing with a grin tugging at your lips. You had left him out to dry and you kind of loved the power switch.

You wrote, knowing very well he was the culprit who'd taken your charger in an effort to hide things from Jack the other day. Your message was cheeky and taunting, almost blaming him for why he didn't get to have the call continue. Really just hammering home that you knew what you were doing. You could practically feel his frustration through the screen as he replied, a flurry of texts that only made you smirk, still desperate for you. His handiwork would never match what you offered.. You had him exactly where you wanted him, and something told you he wouldn't let you get away with this so easily and you couldn't’ wait.

The anticipation had been building for a whole day after the call, ever since Trent's away game ended. You knew he'd be coming back to you straight away. You had teased him mercilessly during that facetime, flaunting your body and hinting at all the naughty things he could do to you when he returned. But then your phone died or you could also say well… you just hung up. His desperate pleas over texts only fueled your excitement, and you couldn't wait to have him back in your arms, and beneath you or under you. You didn’t care. Jack was out and you were in… and in and just in a tiny tank top and panties. As soon as Trent walked through the door, his eyes locked onto yours, burning with a mixture of desire and frustration. He strode purposefully towards your bedroom, just moving straight past you and straight to the point,  his broad shoulders exuding confidence and determination. You followed, unable to resist the pull of his magnetic presence. It was like he came in and didn’t need to say a thing because you knew he was frustrated. Not actually, just sexually and you liked it the build up. You had to fight back a giggle as you came into your room after him, plopping yourself on the bed. 

"Baby," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly as he stood in your room. You couldn’t read the inflection. It almost sounded like he was disappointed? Was he actually mad? Momentarily you were nervous but he looked so god damn sexy like this, hungry almost, you wanted to keep up your game just to see what would happen. You were lying on the bed, your hair cascading over the pillows, a seductive smile playing on your lips.

"Did you miss me?" you teased, propping yourself up on your elbows, your tits straining against the thin fabric of your tank top. Trent's eyes darkened at the sight, his gaze flicking between your face and your exposed cleavage. "I'm tired, I won’t lie" you continued, feigning innocence. "You must be too from the flight. Maybe we can just catch up on some sleep tonight.” You knew you were being a tease, and the thought of driving him wild excited you even more. 

Then there was a shift in the room. He came over to you, his hand picked up your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“You’re not tired.” Trent growled, a low sound that sent shivers down your spine. He told you very matter of fact. "You've been so naughty, baby…teasing me like that," he said, his voice laced with a possessive edge. "You know how much I thought about you dressed like that in this bed alone in my hotel." A rush of heat flooded your cheeks as you realized the extent of your power over him. You'd left him with a constant ache, his cock throbbing and heavy with desire. But the shift in power was singly like a pendulum. Now back to you. 

"I know, baby," you cooed, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "But you like it when I'm a bad girl, don't you?" Trent's eyes blazed with passion as he grabbed your hand, pressing a heated kiss to your palm. 

"No, baby… I like when you’re a good girl f’me. And you've been a very bad girl, and I'm not having that," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "You’re gonna be a good girl now. Right now. And I’m gonna take what's mine.” He said ferociously but steadily calm as he climbed onto the bed, straddling your waist, his hard muscles pressing into your soft curves. You gasped as his weight settled on you, his erection straining against his trousers, pressing into your core through the thin fabric of your panties. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing and kneading your tits through your top, causing your nipples to pebble in response. "You like being my good girl though, don't you, baby?" he growled, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You like it when I touch you, when I take what I want." You arched into his touch, your breath coming in short gasps. 

"Yeah huh, T," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. Your resolve crumbling, the game falling to pieces instantly.

“I know you do. And right now I want you.but you didn’t seem to want me…” he taunted, still teasing you. “ So beg.” He commanded.

 "I need you please. Please T… I’m sorry.” You whined. The tides turned so fast. The power dynamic has returned to where it was before. With a growl, he tore your top off, baring your tits to his hungry gaze. His mouth claimed one taut peak, sucking and nibbling, while his hand cupped the other, rolling and tugging gently. Your back arched off the bed further, offering yourself to him, your hands threading through his hair, urging him on.

"See? Such a good girl," he murmured between kisses, his hands now exploring your body, sliding down your stomach, tracing the waistband of your panties. "But….” He began and your heart skipped a beat. What did you get yourself into? “Can’t be acting like that. You've been so bad, baby. You’re not doing all that with me. I’m in charge, hmm?” He hummed. You whimpered as he hooked his fingers under the elastic, slowly sliding your panties down your thighs, exposing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze. His eyes devoured you, taking in every detail of your swollen lips and the dampness between your thighs. "So wet for me. You like this, don’t you? Me in charge of you. In control." he growled, his voice thick with desire. You nodded. He was 1000% correct. You weren’t sure you’d ever been more turned on in your life. "You’re gonna take my cock now.” He shifted, positioning himself between your thighs, his cock straining against his trousers. With one swift motion, he ripped at the button and zipper, freeing his thick length. You moaned at the sight, your pussy clenching in anticipation.

"Please, baby. I want your cock. I’m so sorry," you begged, your voice breathless. "I need you inside me." He didn't make you wait long. You thought he’d draw out the teasing but neither of you could wait any longer. With one powerful thrust, he filled you, stretching and claiming you in one stroke. You cried out, your body welcoming him, your walls gripping and milking his length.the stretch was deliciously painful. You were so tight from minimal prep but god you were wet he just slid in.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as he began to move, his hips snapping forward, driving into you with fierce possessiveness. It was clear immediately this was going to be a rough fuck. "You're mine, baby. All mine." You wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts with your own, your bodies moving in perfect rhythm. His hands gripped your hips, leaving marks on your skin as he pounded into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot with every stroke.

"You like it rough, don't you, baby?" he panted, his breath hot against your neck as he nibbled and sucked on the sensitive skin. "You want me to fuck you hard?" He asked with a smirk you could feel. “Gonna have you begging for more of me.” 

"Yes, please," you whimpered, your head thrown back, your body on fire. "I want it all. I want you to take me, own me." You’d never acted so submissive in your life. This was like an alternative universe only he could create. Trent obliged to your pleas eagerly, his movements becoming more primal, more demanding. Trent kept one hand on your hip guiding your movements but brought his other up your body, his hand wrapping around your neck, eyes pinned to yours. You gasped feeling his tip smashing against your cervix and orgasm barrelling towards you. But then he surprised you by letting go of your neck, slowing his pace ever so much so that the coil loosened in your stomach, the climax retreating momentarily. He was playing games with you. “You wanted to play with me, baby the other day? I’ll play with you.”  He taunted. He moved his hand off your neck and up to cup your cheek. Then swiftly he dragged his thumb across your lips. He slipped it into your mouth with ease as he pulled your mouth open by your bottom lip. He spit his saliva into your mouth and you swallowed diligently with a moan before he pushed his thumb all the way back in for you to suck on it like you would his cock. He groaned when your eyes began to flutter closed with a whine, simultaneously swirling your tongue around his finger. 

“Such a good girl f’me.” he gripped your chin looking longingly into your eyes. He loved everything about this. Being in control of you. You letting him control you. You wanting him to control you. He tucked his face in the nape of your neck. He nibbled on your sensitive skin. His hair tickling you. Hoarse grunts escaping him as you soaked him. He hit that spot deep inside you, only he knew.  All you could think about was the way he hit that spot again and again, continuously. He felt so good when he dropped his hand between you to rubbing your throbbing clit. He knew how to make you cum and he was going to do it well but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you. So he pulled out and  flipped you onto your stomach, throwing you around like a rag doll, positioning you on all fours, your ass raised high in the air, your back arched to perfection, presenting yourself to him. With a possessive growl, he smacked your ass, leaving a stinging imprint of his hand. "Why’d you have to act like such a naughty fucking girl, baby?" he whispered, his hot breath caressing your sensitive skin. But instead of a whine, you moaned in pleasure. You liked when he slapped your ass. "You like it when I punish you, don't you?" He smirked, mildly surprised that you were this down for him to have this much control. Obviously you knew each other well but in the bedroom you were still finding things out. 

"Yes," you moaned, your voice hoarse as you pushed back against him, inviting more because you knew more were coming. Trent’s hand rained down on your ass, slap after slap, again and again, leaving a symphony of slaps and marks that would remind you of his dominance. Finally once he felt it was sufficient he let a line of his spit fall onto your ass. He watched it run  down over your ass and into the folds of your pussy. His hands caressed the fat of your ass. 

"You've been a bad girl, teasing me," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Just gotta fuck it out of you now, yeah? Make you my good girl again." He cooed as he positioned himself behind you and began to tease you, dragging his leaking tip across the smooth skin of your ass before slipping it between your folds teasing your entrance. He slowly pushed his cock into your pussy without another word. You were completely drenched. You could feel yourself coat his length in your slick again and again as he drilled in and out of you. The recoil of your ass from his hard thrusts had Trent in pure heaven. God, it must’ve been a good 30 minutes of him just blowing your back out. 

"Oh, fuck!" you exclaimed, your hands gripping the sheets as he pounded into you, his hips slapping against your ass, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room. “I’m gonna c-.”  you cried out, your body trembling.

“No!” He commanded and you whined as he pulled out, halting it all. “You’re gonna keep taking my cock.” He told you as he slid back in and so you did. You kept taking him  “That's it, baby," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he fucked you with abandon. "Take it, take all of me." You cried out as he slammed into you, his cock hitting your G-spot with every stroke, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your orgasm building, coiling tight in your core, every inch of your body alive with sensation.“ You’re mine, baby. Understand?” He said it was a seriousness and a harshness that made goosebumps arise on your skin. 

"I can’t… oh my fucking god. I'm gonna cum, T," you panted, your nails digging into the sheets as you fought for release. "I’m gonna cum, fuck– please." You whined. You moaned as your vision began to blur a little from how good it all felt.

"Not yet, baby," he growled, his voice rough. "You’re gonna keep taking me because I said so. You asked for this. I want you to feel me, feel every inch of me." He reached around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing and pinching the sensitive bud as he continued to pound into you. Your moans filled the room, a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

"Please, T, oh my god," you begged, your body on the brink. "I need to cum. Please."

"Not until I say so," he commanded, his voice harsh. "You don't get to come until I'm ready to fill you up with my cum." His words sent a shockwave of desire through you, and you surrendered to his control, your body his to command. “You continued throwing your ass back as he fucked you relentlessly, his cock driving into your pussy with brutal force, his fingers working your clit with expert precision. "That's it, baby, let me see how much you want it," he grunted, his breath hot against your neck. "You're mine, every inch of you. I own this pussy. I get to decide when you cum.” After a few more strokes, that were gradually getting rougher you heard it, the command you’d be aching for. “Cum f’me baby. Cum now.” His words pushed you over the edge, and you exploded around him, your pussy clenching and milking his cock as you cried out his name. “Fuck, baby. Gonna cum, alright? Doing so good, baby.” He grunted as his thrusts became messy and unregulated before he came inside of you, filling you up to the brim.  his cock twitching and pulsing as he filled you with his hot release. You collapsed onto the bed, your body spent and satisfied. He gently pulled out of you but was quick to push his two fingers along with his leaking cum back inside you for a few moments longer. "You wanna cum again f’me, pretty girl?" He cooed.

“Oh fuck- oh my god.” You whined, body gone almost limp but craving more insatiably. His fingers easily sliding in and out of your pussy, finding that magical spot deep inside. He rubbed and pressed your clit as his fingers curled deeper from behind. You cried out, your body exploding in another mind-blowing orgasm. Trent smugly and quietly laughed not at you but just happy you were feeling so good. As your bodies calmed, Trent's softer side emerged as he gently rolled you onto your back, his eyes filled with love and adoration before he collapsed onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms. He kissed you tenderly, his hands stroking your hair, his touch now gentle and caring. He held you close, his strong arms offering comfort and protection. You could feel his heart pounding against you, and his breath was warm on your skin.

"My good girl," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Did so good f’me. You okay?”   You smiled, your heart full as you snuggled into his embrace, content in the afterglow of your passionate encounter. 

"I love being your good girl, T," you murmured, savoring the warmth of his body against yours. 

"You were more than that, baby. Honestly, that was fucking unreal," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "I love making you feel good." You snuggled closer, your body still buzzing with pleasure. 

"That’s good because you make me feel amazing.” you tiredly giggled. “But…I do really like when you take control, baby," you confessed, your voice soft and sated. "It makes me feel so fucking… I don’t know wanted or something. I like knowing you want me like that.” You poorly explained in your post orgasmic haze. He chuckled, the sound low and warm. 

"I do want you, more than you know. And I promise, I'll always take care of you…. Especially after wanting you like that." He smirked. He gently caressed your hair, his touch tender and loving. "Let's clean you up, my pretty girl," he said, his voice filled with affection. He helped you into the shower, the warm water washing away the remnants of your passionate encounter. Trent's hands were gentle as he soaped your body, his touch sending shivers of pleasure through your tired limbs. You leaned into him, your body still limp from the intensity of your orgasms, but he held you close, his strong arms offering relentless support. There was a physical and emotional feeling of warmth with him. He just wanted to wrap around you and keep you with him all the time. He was completely consumed by the thought. Seeing you so fragile after sex just sent a feeling alight inside he didn’t quite no how to label. 

"You're so good to me, T," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. He’d always taken care of you but now it was different… so different, so intimate and you both were recognizing it. He kissed the top of your head, his lips soft against your hair. 

"I will always take care of you, baby. I always have, I always will." He cooed as the water washed away the sweat and passion of your lovemaking, Trent's gentle care and adoration filled the void, leaving you feeling cherished and adored. You knew in that moment that this was more than just physical attraction. It was a deep, profound connection, but one you craved beyond the boundaries of the bedroom. 

That next morning was a slow, honeyed glow, filtering through the curtains and casting a soft light over the room. The world felt paused, as if the universe had frozen to let you both linger in this quiet perfection a little longer. The warmth of Trent’s skin was the only anchor you needed, the steady beat of his heart a lullaby against your cheek as you lay entwined, tangled together under the weight of the blankets and something far deeper. He shifted slightly, his body moving with that half-conscious care to keep you close, and you felt his breath stir your hair, a sigh caught somewhere between sleep and waking. As he moved, you instinctively tightened your hold, pressing yourself closer, unwilling to let him slip even an inch away. 

“MmNmm,” you murmured, a soft, sleepy protest as you shook your head against his chest, feeling the rumble of his chuckle in response.

“Nah, course not,” he laughed at you, his voice still heavy with sleep, But he was only teasing, he was loving that you didn’t want him to move. He lent down, pressing his lips to the top of your head in a lingering kiss, his breath warm against your hair. His hand drifted down your back, tracing gentle patterns, like he was memorizing every inch of you. “My pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice a tender whisper, more to himself than to you, like he still couldn’t believe this was real. The sound of his words washed over you, filling you with a warmth that went beyond the touch of his skin. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he gazed down at you, his expression so soft and open, filled with a quiet awe that made your heart ache. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face with a gentle hand, his fingers lingering, tracing the curve of your cheek as if you were something precious, something fragile. “Nah you’re actually so gorgeous, baby,” he cooed, a little smile playing on his lips as his thumb brushed your cheek. He studied you, his eyes tracing every detail of your face as if he were afraid he’d wake up and find this had all been a dream. His other hand slipped around your waist, pulling you even closer, holding you like he’d never let you go.  You couldn’t help but sleepily smile, your own hands finding their way to his, fingers lacing together as you pulled his arm around you, tucking yourself against him. “Can’t believe I finally have you with me,” he whispered, almost like he was speaking to himself, his voice tinged with wonder and something deeper, something vulnerable. You didn’t need to say anything; words felt unnecessary in the soft, stolen space between you. Instead, you pressed a gentle kiss to his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips, letting the silence say everything that you couldn’t. 

“You feel like a dream sometimes.” After a while, you finally spoke up when something other than sheer bliss came into your head. His arms tightened around you, his thumb gently stroking your side, sending a shiver through you that made you feel acutely, blissfully alive. He tilted your chin up, his lips meeting yours in a soft, unhurried kiss, so full of affection it left you breathless. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand cupping your face as he held you there, his gaze deep and intent. 

“You’ve been my dream,” he murmured softly, brushing his thumb across your cheek. You felt his fingers run through your hair, tucking it behind your ear with the same careful attention, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued to trace slow circles on your back. He rested his forehead against yours, his breathing soft and steady, and for a moment, you both stayed there, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. The morning stretched on, time losing meaning as you lay there, cocooned in each other’s arms. The world outside could wait; for now, all that mattered was the quiet perfection of this moment, of being held, of being seen, of feeling his heart beat in time with yours. It was a feeling you wanted to hold on to forever, a softness that seemed to live only in the rare, untouched hours of early morning.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 8 - Caught in The Kitchen, Hidden in The Bathroom xx

[woso-dreamzzz]

Breakfast II

Ellie Carpenter x Daniëlle van de Donk x Child!Reader

Summary: Your pitch check is interrupted by someone familiar

You rub your eyes as your Mamma unwraps the sandwich she'd packed for you. Honestly, it's a bit too early for you to be fully awake because you and Ellie went out to the cinema last night while Mamma did media stuff for the club.

You didn't particularly want to join in on the pitch check (it was the same pitch as usual) but Mamma had lured you with the promise of food and a nap before the game started.

"Ellie, no," You whine when Mamma's girlfriend tries to take a piece," It's mine."

"What?" She jokes," You can't share?"

You wrinkle your nose at her. "No."

"Oh, come on!"

You stick your tongue out at her and she laughs, mushing your hat further down on your head so it almost covers your eyes.

"Ellie!"

"What, I didn't do anything!"

"Mamma! Ellie's eating my food again!"

"Daan, don't listen to her! I was only joking!"

Your Mamma made a point of ignoring you both and letting you squabble between yourselves. You had gotten better with Ellie as time went on and now all of your arguments were small and over little things rather than what the big battles they used to be.

"Alright! That's it!" Ellie grabs you suddenly, flipping you over her shoulder in a fireman's carry, making sure to bounce more than necessary as she runs to catch up with Daan.

You shriek at the movement and Mamma smiles fondly at you as you try to reach out for help. She just holds your hand in hers, swinging it between your bodies as Ellie munches on your sandwich, leaving half it for you.

"Ellie!" You laugh as she spins around quickly before dumping you on the floor, where you stumble around dizzily for several seconds before slumping to the ground.

"Mamma!" You say," Ellie's being mean again!"

"And what do you want me to do about that?" Mamma teases.

You pretend to think for a moment. "You should tell her off! Or...Or do the same to her!"

Both Mamma and Ellie laugh at you.

"I'm being serious!"

Mamma runs a hand through your head and offers you back your sandwich. "We'll see," She says finally," If Ellie's being mean later I'll definitely tell her off."

You stink your tongue out at Ellie in triumph, who just rolls her eyes at you.

"I'm bored," You declare not even five minutes later as you walk between your mother and her girlfriend," Can I get a snack?"

"Is the food I feed you not enough?" Mamma asks with a wry smile and you give her a deadpan look.

"Snacks? Please?"

She sighs like you've greatly inconvenienced her even though you all know that she's joking. She fishes some money out of her pocket and send you on your way.

"I want a chocolate!" She yells after you.

"And get me a drink!" Ellie yells too.

"Get your own, Ellie!" You answer her with your own joking smile as you scamper back inside to the nearest vending machine.

You have to stand on your very tiptoes to reach the higher numbers but you manage to get your snacks, Mamma's chocolate and Ellie's drink - although you know that you won't be letting her get it off you so easily.

"Well, well, well," A familiar voice says from behind you," If it isn't the littlest van de Donk. Fancy seeing you here!"

"Leah!" You exclaim, running into her arms.

"Hey, there!" Leah hugs you back tight and ruffles your hair. "Long time no see."

"You're playing Mamma soon!" You tell her and the other Arsenal girls who yell out their own greetings to you.

"We are," Leah agrees before nodding to the treats in your hands," Is that for me?"

"Actually, Leah, I'm pretty sure they must be for me," A very familiar voice joins you and you turn to look at Beth.

Mamma and Beth were together a long time before Mamma got with Ellie. Beth used to take you to school and help with your baths at night.

When you and Mamma left and they broke up, you didn't hear from Beth anymore.

You're not too sure how to react to her so you just smile politely and scamper off back onto the pitch. You break out into a sprint the moment you can't hear the Arsenal girls. You can't find Mamma anywhere.

It's like she's disappeared on you.

So, you run to the next best thing.

Ellie is talking with Lindsey and she almost loses her balance when you crash into her.

Lindsey laughs. "Alright there, roadrunner? Meep, meep!"

But Ellie just looks at you with a frown, taking in the way your shoulders are rising and falling and you send worried glances back at the tunnel.

"Whoa, whoa," Ellie says," What's going on?" She follows your gaze. "What happened?"

"Where's Mamma?" You answer with your own question," I...I want Mamma."

"Daan's doing an interview," Ellie answers," Why?"

You look up at Ellie with wide eyes. "Mamma and Beth used to date."

"Yes?"

"Beth's here," You continue," But I haven't talked to her in a while. Do I have to be friends with Beth because she and Mamma used to date?"

Ellie pulls you into her arms, squeezing you nice and tight against her. "You don't have to be friends with anyone you don't want to."

"Who isn't she friends with?" Mamma appears behind you, looking a little confused. The snacks you got are scattered on the floor and you're hugging Ellie just as tight as she's hugging you - something that never really happens and never in public like now.

"Beth's here," You say," Do I have to be friends with her?"

Mamma misunderstands you. "You can still be friends with Beth if you want."

You shake your head and try to explain more but Beth's approaching and you find yourself sliding behind Ellie.

"Hey, Daan," Beth says, hugging Mamma, who hugs her back," Ellie." She smiles at you. "It's good to see you, y/n."

You smile politely again and busy yourself with opening your packet of sweets. Your hands are shaking slightly and you can't think why.

You know Beth.

You like Beth.

But her presence and smiling face still makes you feel nervous.

You lean some of your weight against Ellie, whose hand immediately clamps onto your shoulder in comfort.

Mamma and Beth talk for a while but Ellie keeps you busy and distracted by letting you take long chugs of her drink - even though it's very sugary and Mamma would never let you have it if she hadn't been talking to Beth.

"She's gotten so big," Is what Beth's saying when you tune back into their conversation," I remember when she was tiny. Does she still like being carried on your hip?"

"She likes riding on shoulders," Ellie cuts in when she notices you tense at Beth reminiscing," Don't you?"

You nod. "I'm too big to sit on Mamma and Ellie's hips."

Beth looks at you a little strangely for a moment before nodding with a little laugh. "God, you used to follow me around all the time. I miss my little shadow sometimes."

For you ears early, Ellie mutters," But not enough to call every once in a while." She spoke a bit louder for Mamma and Beth to hear too," She doesn't really like following anyone around anymore." She pokes at your cheek teasingly. "She's too independent."

Mamma rolls her eyes. "Independent?" She gives you a toothy smile, leaning down to kiss your head. "You crawled into bed with us last night because Ellie took you to a scary movie."

"It wasn't a scary movie!" Ellie defends," It just had a few freaky parts! It was animated!"

"Ellie told me too!" You say quickly," She said that I could sleep with you!"

Mamma laughs, ruffling your hair. "So I have Ellie to blame, huh?"

"We're partners in crime," Ellie says and you burrow into her side with a silly grin," Me and her forever."

You catch Beth's eye. She looks a little misty-eyed and you can just tell that she's thinking of the little girl you used to be and not the you that's standing in front of her now.

But you're not that little girl anymore and you look away to face Ellie, who is happy to meet your eyes and take your head in hers.

You're very clearly still feeling awkward around Beth, especially as she reminisces about how little you used to be when she first met you, so Ellie pulls you into her side.

"Hey, Daan," She says," Me and my partner in crime are going to head back inside. My drink's done."

"Are you getting more snacks out the vending machine?" Daan teases and you look up at her with an innocent smile. "Oh, don't give me that look!"

"What look?" You tease.

Mamma pokes at your cheek. "That look. You want me to bankroll your snack spree."

You bat your eyelashes at her. "Is it working?"

Mamma laughs, slapping a small wad of cash into your hands. "Don't go crazy. You'll get a stomach ache." She points at Ellie. "I mean it."

Ellie winks and presses a kiss to Mamma's cheek before hoisting you up onto her shoulders. "Bye Daan!"

"Bye Mamma!" You say, waving as Ellie carts you away," Bye Beth!"

[lastofthemadones]

Long Live Evil has me by the throat and I made a Key playlist

(I don't have a spotify account so it's on Youtube Music don't hate me) find it here

Take Me to Church - Hozier

Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies, I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife

2. I Love You Like an Alcoholic - The Taxpayers

One last kiss, I love you like an alcoholic, One last kiss, I love you like a statuette, One last kiss, I need you like I need a broken leg

3. Oceanographer's Choice - The Mountain Goats

Look at that, Would you look at that, We're throwing off sparks, What will I do when I don't have you, To hold onto in the dark?

4. Howl - Florence + The Machine

The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound, I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground, And howl, Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers, Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters

5. From Eden - Hozier

Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword, Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

6. Bad Things - Jace Everett

I don't know what you've done to me, But I know this much is true, I wanna do bad things with you

7. It Will Come Back - Hozier

Don't let me in with no intention to keep me, Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me, Honey, don't feed me, I will come back, It can't be unlearned, I've known the warmth of your doorways, Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you

8. Pumped Up Kicks - Foster The People

All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, You better run, better run outrun my gun

9. Hurt - Johnny Cash

Everyone I know goes away, In the end, And you could have it all, My empire of dirt, I will let you down, I will make you hurt

10. We Will Commit Wolf Murder - of Montreal

Something's terrorized my psyche to get even, Lately, you're the only human I believe in

11. Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part To Save The Scene And Stop Going To Shows) - Fall Out Boy

I used to obsess over living, Now I only obsess over you

12. Fever - Magpie Cinema Club

Romeo loved Juliet, Juliet she felt the same, but when she put her arms around him, He said, "Julie baby you're to blame, Thou giveth fever"

13. Seven Devils - Florence + The Machine

See, I was dead when I woke up this morning, I'll be dead before the day is done, Before the day is done, And now all your love will be exorcised, And we will find you saying it's to be better now

14. Dust Bowl Dance - Mumford & Sons

There will come a time I will look in your eye, You will pray to the God that you always denied, Then I'll go out back, and I'll get my gun, I'll say, "You haven't met me, I am the only son"

15. Monster - Ron Pope

Make me a monster, Make me a beast, Prey on my weakness, Become my disease, I've been lovesick and empty, Cold and I'm trembling

16. Dirty Little Animals - Bones UK

It makes your blood run hot, It makes your spit taste sweet, It makes you feel more alive, Than you have ever been

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Cigarettes In The Theatre • Come Back Home • Do You Want It All? • This Is The Life • Something Good Can Work • I Can Talk • Undercover Martyn • What You Know • Eat That Up, It's Good For You • You're Not Stubborn

Spotify ♪ YouTube

[bluehandscalzonepersona]

The Disciple |1|

Pairing: Jill Roberts x Male Reader

Summary: In which Jill didn't have Charlie, but her exact definition of the ideal Ghostface partner she found in Cinema Club. But will she kill him for her alibi, or stop herself at the end of the road?

Warning(s): Casual Swearing, Teens Drinking

Word Count: 3k+

It was the night for the Stab-A-Thon once again at Woodsboro, with this annual's event taking place at an old mill that was eventually left to rot after it's purpose dried up, pun intended, giving it a haunted crime scene-like-vibe, perfect for a horror movie event. Like always, it was hosted by Charlie Walker, the leader of the Cinema Club, and his two pawns, Robbie Mercer and Y/N L/N. The three of them stand in the back as they watch their guests enjoy the movies, currently at Stab 2 so far.

"And so, that's how Jason Voorhees easily survived and kicked Freddy Kreuger's ass, simple math." Robbie Mercer finishes his pitch about the ending of Freddy vs Jason, the movie from about eight years ago that is still talked about to this day because, well.... why wouldn't it be? "Freddy was in the real world, trying to kill Jason when he couldn't even do it in his own dreamscape."

"That's because Ronny Yu clearly had a boner for the undead Micheal Myers rip-off." Y/N retorts with a small scoff as he finishes this third can of beer, having been drinking to no ends because he's still been on a conflicted run with his crush who already had a boyfriend. Yup, he's one of those people. "If that first fight had actual common sense, Freddy would've realized that all he needed to do was tear off all of Jason's limbs and make him wake back up with no arms or legs. Bam, movie over."

"Wow, the fact that the two of you haven't tried debating all of our guests under the table at this point is mind-baffling." Charlie remarks with a small snort as he shakes his head. "It's a fucking horror movie about two horror icons fighting, with the only sin being that we never got the ending with Pinhead looking down at all of them during the end credits, or that Freddy vs Jason vs Ash was reduced to a comic issue. Pinhead, by the way, will kill them both blindfolded."

"I'm sorry, what?!" Y/N utters as the two right hands rapidly blink at Charlie. "You can't just bring a being with an unfair advantage like that into here. Besides, we all know that Pinhead would pose no threat to Jason once he realizes that there's no 'soul' to tear apart and crap."

The three keep going at it for as long as they can, constantly sipping on their red solo cups and idly watching the movies one by one when a familiar face eventually pass them.

"Hey there, losers." Kirby Reed's teasing voice chimes in, prompting them all to see her rolling in with a cup of her own, shaking it like it's an empty money jar. "Key advice, you might want to bring in some more booze and popcorn next time around, one of your three kegs is already empty."

"Well, as long as it keeps you around." Charlie is quick to reply with a salute of his own cup, causing Y/N and Robbie to share a look at how obvious he's being, for like, the millionth time. But secretly, Y/N knows he wouldn't have much room to talk, especially if the others knew how he felt about a girl.

Speaking of.....

"Hey, Kirby, have you seen Jill around?" Y/N asks the blonde before the two can engage in more queen and minion like banter that is supposed be called 'romantic' in this day and age or something. "I thought we sent them an invite as well."

Kirby snorts loudly in response to hearing that question. "You really think Jill would show up here? This isn't even Trevor Sheldon's scene, and that says a lot about him." She answers bluntly, causing Y/N to bitterly shake his head. "She doesn't even know that the movie is a franchise, and she lives here for irony's sake."

"Well tell her that she's missing out, especially Trevor for that matter." Y/N advises with a look that features a mix of disappointment masked with humor. Kirby simply smirks at him as if amused before walking off to use a make-shift bathroom or something as the three boys turn back to the screen. During which, Y/N takes a very strong gulp of his drink which ends up draining the cup, marking it as his forth beer today, and they're still at Stab 2.

"Hey, join the club, buddy." Charlie remarks as he pats Y/N on the back, only for him to realize the phrasing of his words. "Oh wait! You have! In both ways."

"Not helping man." Y/N mutters with a shake of his head as he looks down at his empty cup with only a droplet of the stuff he shouldn't be drinking yet, disappointed. He's going to be waking up with a hangover tomorrow, that's for certain.

"You know what? I think it's time that we all pact, starting right now." Robbie proposes as he steps closer and pulls both of them into a little hurdle or something, much to their confusion. "Before Senior Year, we vow that at least one of us will get lucky with a girl, sparking an incredible moment for geek history. We can't let our way of life be diminished and tarnished into being nothing but wannabe comic relief characters for slasher films, like that one guy in Freddy vs Jason who I've already forgotten the name of, but still ended up winning the black chick's heart." He declares, before smirking sheepishly at them. "I forgot her name too."

"For some reason, that feels more degrading that inspiring." Y/N comments while making a weird face, probably because Robbie just compared them to meat bag characters who barely even have a last name. "You could've have just used Ricky for your comparison?"

"Okay, stop, before you kill his bomb-ass speech." Charlie sarcastically requests with a look that shows that he's really just making fun of his best friend.

"Hey, screw you both, alright? This is important." Robbie persists with a seemingly serious face, but all it gets from the other two boys is a little bit of laughter. "Whatever, you guys know what I'm talking about." He says before stepping back and raising up his red solo cup. "To film geek history."

Charlie and Y/N share another look before coming to the conclusion that their pal isn't exactly wrong. Crushing on a girl for three years, soon to be four, will not only look bad on their culture, but curse the next High School generation with even more anxiety. The latter knows especially what it's like to have this feeling inside of him, and he'd rather die than have it be ignored.

Yes, a little over the top, but not for him.

"To film geek history." The rest of the geeks chant as they clink or whatever sound red solo cups make when they tap themselves against each other. They take another sip, except for Y/N, who goes to refill his beer.

Something tells him he's going to beat his old record of ten cups by the end of this marathon, if he doesn't empty the kegs by then.

Little did he know, fate was on his side the second that pact was made.

A few weeks later, Y/N was driving his car back to his place now that school was over. Summer break is beginning tomorrow, and he couldn't contain his excitement because it finally meant that he would be able to be the person he wants to be rather than the good boy who act to get his act together for the sake of a grade.

He was maybe pushing himself a little too fast to get to home as fast as possible, as he ended up getting the Sheriff's attention with his speed. "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Hey! Twenty-Five! Stay alive!" Dewey Riley barked at him loud enough that Y/N heard it.

"Oh shit!" Y/N utters as he frantically presses on his breaks to lower his millimeter, lowering his passenger window to shout back. "Sorry Sheriff!" He apologizes before putting his eyes back on the road, while the older man scoffs with a disappointed shake of his head.

"Kids...." Dewey mutters.

With a now smoother pace, Y/N kept himself in control as he continued down the roads of the suburbs at a more legal speed. The last thing he needs to do is to get on the kindest policeman's bad side by running into another car and getting the 'I'm not mad, I'm disappointed' kind of pep talk from Dewey. One can only imagine how that would make them look.

As his eyes idly glances at the other houses containing most of his neighbor/fellow film geeks, he eventually notices one scene that strikes him as wrong.

He catches Jill Roberts marching out of a house that, if his address memory is correct, is not hers. Yes, he knows her street name/number as well, don't ask questions. The way she retreats out of the house as if she got forced out of it like in Red Alert gives him the clue that she has just learned something she regrets figuring out.

Still remembering the pact he once made with his Cinema Club friends, or maybe he just has a psychic's kind of intuition, he rolls up and stops in front of the sidewalk leading up to the house. Jill stops in her tracks when his vehicle suddenly appears right in front of her. "Hey, is someone being killed in there?" Y/N asks her jokingly with his passenger door still lowered.

Jill glances between him and the house, and instead of answering the question, she swiftly hops into the car without needing to ask for it to be unlocked. "Please, just get the fuck out of here." She pleads with a voice Y/N realizes is on the emotional side, letting out a small sniffle which indicates that she's currently on the edge of crying.

Taking the cue fairly easily, Y/N complies and rolls up his windows before driving away. Just before the house is out of sight though, he notices Trevor Sheldon frantically running out with a panicked face as if having planned to follow her and 'explain things' before she disappeared on him. A little follow up on his original comment, that is not his house either.

"What the heck happened back there?" Y/N couldn't help but ask the second they were at least a block away from that house, still keeping his eyes on the road, but glancing at Jill with a perplexed face. The second he saw that Jill was in distress, he couldn't help but feel angry earlier. That was probably why he was quick to pull up earlier.

"Trevor, that..... son of a bitch...." Jill, despite her emotional state, still answers for him in a way that indicates she really needs to vent this shit out before she unleashes whatever negative emotions she's feeling onto him. "He was sleeping with that.... that slut, Jenny!" She reveals with her hand over her face, clearly in the mood to use such a harsh word for another girl. "I fucking knew it. I followed that asshole and I caught those sons of...." She stops herself to hold in another sob threatening to break loose.

Jenny Randal, Y/N somewhat recognized that name. To be completely honest, he's not surprised that not only was it her that was the problem, but that Trevor ended up cheating. Something about him always seemed bored with the world, something that would make him take a risk like that for the sake of enjoyment. It's what made him stupid enough to get caught, Y/N reckons.

"Damn....." Y/N mutters as he lets out a small whistle. "I am.... I'm sorry to hear that."

"I just can't fucking believing it...." Jill seethes as she clenches a fist while looking out the window, as if worried how Y/N will see her if he catches at least one tear rolling down her cheek. "I..... he.... we had sex. He wanted it, and I fucking gave it to him, and this is the shit that he pulls?!" She curses up a storm as she is a few words away from shouting the car up.

Y/N meanwhile, grips the wheel a little bit tightly with both hands when he hears what she is saying. Trevor was her first? Are you fucking kidding? The fact that this was the outcome can't help but make him think that his might be a blessing in disguise, his calling sign. That may be selfish as fuck to believe, but when has he ever put his needs before others?

He's a slave to the devil, a slave to his emotions, and his lust.

"Wow, talk about a gut-wrenching plot twist." Y/N remarks out loud before his silence kills the mood, though that probably wasn't the best thing to say either. "Sorry...." He quickly apologizes to her with a guilty glance. "It's just.... you know, not cool."

"Yeah." Jill replies quietly as she rubs her forehead with one hand, which Y/N suspects is kind of her way of saying, 'no shit, sherlock, you want a lollipop for that?' After a few minutes, they finally come to their destination, one of theirs, at least. "Hey, this is...." Jill is about to point out her house, only for Y/N to already be parking his car in front of it before she could even get the first word out. "Thanks." She says in a slightly uneasy look, not sure how to take him knowing her house faster than she did.

"No problem." Y/N replies with a big smile, tapping on his wheel as he watches her get out with a face that's still able to hide her emotions inside. Or maybe.... they're slowly fading away with every passing second, knowing that tears aren't going to fix the obvious break-up that's about to happen via text message.

Oooh, that would be the icing on the cake. Breaking up with your cheater on the phone, the ultimate revenge that would most certainly fit the crime.

"Hey! Jill!" Y/N loudly calls out to her as he finds himself getting out of his car without thinking once again. Thankfully, Jill stops and turns around, blinking at his actions. "I know I already said this, but just to make it, um..... you know, feel genuine...." He walks towards her, but only in a platonic distance. "I'm really sorry this happened to you." He expresses to her, earnestly meaning it. To see her in pain makes him hurt, but in a.... third party, kind of way.

"Thanks, but.... I'll be fine." Jill promises him as she quickly wipes her eyes of any tears she feels is burning under her eyelids, understanding there's no use anymore in trying to hide them from him. "I guess I should've expected this, being Sidney Prescott's cousin. It makes sense that all anyone ever sees me as is a..... a real-life definition of a plot device."

"I don't think that way." Y/N is quick to retort, seeing her materialization as something much more important than that. And if there's any time to say it, now would be a good time, but more just to make her feel better. "Honestly, I see you more as the...... the main character everyone adores for ten decades or so." He tells her honestly, his film geek way of saying that she matters to him.

Jill giggles when he hears it, glancing down as if not expecting it. "Um.... thanks, Y/N." She replies with a seemingly quiet, blushing tone. Hearing her say his name laced with gratitude makes Y/N smile a bit, even if romantic body language is not the best time here.

She seems to notice it though, the way his smile is formed. The way his eyes stare at her as if she's a goddess that has been cursed with a sin that nobody should be tainted by. Her expression changes slightly as if gears start rolling in her mind. Y/N can't exactly comprehend what she's feeling, but it seems like a dark venomous cloud as whispered in her ear.

"I... I need to go, tell everyone what happened." Jill mentions as she nods towards her house, her eyes looking like they aren't in the mood to shed tears anymore. "But, um...." She bites her lip, taking a few steps closer towards him. Then, to his surprise, she slowly leans her face closer to his and softly kisses him. "I'll see you later."

She then walks away with a seemingly bright smile before she eventually enters her house and closes the door behind her. Y/N feels glued to the floor as he processes that action. His mind is practically shouting at himself with excitement, Jill Robers just fucking kissed him.

But he shouldn't be thinking that way. Jill just got hit with the most heart-breaking scene no girl should ever have witnessed. Giving a boy that kind of affection five minutes later is usually never possible.

Why did she just do that?

Meanwhile, as Jill enters her home, a twisted smile creeps up on her lips. She is not an idiot, she could see the glint in Y/N's eyes. She knows what he was after, what all guys are after. One could say she jumped a little too quickly to take advantage of it, but she's glad that she did. Already, her original thoughts of sorrow and pain are blending together into ideals of revenge.

She is not going to be remembered as the cousin of Sidney who got fucked and dumped just like she did, but with the difference of being tossed away like yesterday's newspaper. Oh, hell to the fucking no. She's fed up with horrible and depressing life, this hand that she's been delt. She's going to take some new cards, slide them under her sleeves, and make an entirely new script staring Jill Roberts' story.

She's going to make the world know her name, starting with her new toy. The only question now, is how she is going to pull that off. Hmm.... ideas... ideas. She has a lot of planning to do.

Good thing the summer will give her plenty of time to get on to it.

[yourfavoritewriter69]

Unhealthy Obsession

a/n hi everyone im grace I’ve been wanting to write a Charlie Walker fan fic for a while I just haven’t had the time or energy this is a female x charlie walker fan fic btw I will be putting trigger warnings and editing them on every part also im very dyslexic so if there are grammar mistakes I apologize in advance but I'm hoping to get part two out within the next week or two in future parts there will be smut but I hope you enjoy :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part One: Welcome home.

Tw: masturbation, underage drug use, mention of abuse and adult language.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are looking out the window in the passenger seat of your aunt's car. You are moving back to Woodsboro you lived there until the end of fifth grade. Your parents decided to move you out of state which sucked because you hated Arizona the weather and the people you are so happy to be moving back to your home town even with the circumstances.

your parents had recently passed due to a car accident. In all honesty, you weren’t as hurt as you should be. They were never good to you when you weren't being yelled at you were being hit by your father he tended to lose his temper you thought this was the universe's way of giving you an out and they got the karma they deserved. You were lost in thought when your aunt snapped you out of it.

“hey hey, y/n are you okay? we are 15 minutes out honey”

“yeah I'm okay just deep in thought,” you said with an assuring smile you have always loved your aunt her name is Luna you always thought her name was so beautiful. She knew a lot of how your parents treated you but she didn’t know all of it. You just talked most of the ride home. Until you guys pulled onto a familiar street as you drove by you quickly noticed a boy who had long curly hair he had big blue eyes he was walking with another boy assuming one of his friends but you weren’t paying attention to him your eyes were on the curly haired boy.

You guys locked eyes and it seemed like time had slowed but the next thing you knew the moment was over and you guys pulled into the driveway. You brought some boxes upstairs and your aunt showed you to your room. You analyzed the room it was cute but boring you would fix that when you unpack all your stuff. The next day your aunt had invited your old friend Kirby over for lunch.

you were kinda excited to see an old friend just you were so tired because you were tossing and turning all night and you couldn't stop thinking about that boy. Kirby and you were sitting in your room.

“I'm so sorry about your parents y/n,” she says as you take a deep breath and look over at her “Thank you, Kirby, but it's okay I'm okay” She slightly smiles at you but she notices how quiet you are, and she asks what’s wrong you responded “ everything’s okay I just can’t get this boy out of my head. We passed by him on the drive here he was walking with his friend on our street he had long curly hair and big blue eyes. I wasn’t paying attention to him to what the friend looked like but I can’t get this boy out of my head.”

Kirby looks kind of surprised and then giggles a little bit and says. “oh my god that’s Charlie Walker me and him we have been friends for a while he asked me to join Cinema club. This weird group club thing for nerds that like movies but I’m thinking about joining I’ve already been to one meeting. He’s always had a thing for me but I’ve never wanted to pursue it but I don’t know. He’s looking kind of fine this year”

this made you feel a bit jealous and caused anger to grow inside of you. You didn’t show it on the outside you didn't make Kirby feel any sort of way you know she didn’t mean it as an attack on you in any sort of way maybe she just didn’t notice that you meant you couldn’t get him out of his head out of your head because there’s just something about this boy that you loved and you needed more of. 

you responded to Kirby “That's cool, so Cinema club would that be something worth joining?” you said in an excited tone “In all honesty maybe. I’m gonna go to my second meeting tomorrow. Are you already enrolled at the high school?” she smiled. “ I am I’m starting tomorrow, but I’m terrified. I’ve always hated public school. But maybe it’ll go well knowing I already have one friend. you spent a few more hours with Kirby. before she left she offered you a ride to school. You said yes of course. You were laying in your bed staring at the ceiling you thought about how jealous you were because Kirby might like this boy. But you stopped yourself thinking it was dumb like you have never even talked to him.

You rolled over on your stomach grabbed your phone and checked the time it was 9:45 you thought you should get some sleep but you weren't tired. You decided to grab a spare joint and lighter you keep In your bag. You were anxious about starting school tomorrow so why not call your nerves?

You rolled over on your stomach grabbed your phone and checked the time it was 9:45 you thought you should get some sleep but you weren't tired. You decided to grab a spare joint and lighter you keep In your bag. You were anxious about starting school tomorrow so why not call your nerves?

you opened your window and sat next to the window you had a bay window so you could just chill there. You lighted the joint and took a few hits. Blowing the smoke out the window you had already put a towel at the bottom of your bedroom door to stop the smell from escaping your room. You looked up and noticed a curly hair boy in his window sitting at his desk. It was Charlie he looked up and smiled he waved at you and you did the same. You had already smoked more than half the joint so you were gone and you lost your balance and fell backward onto the floor you were so embarrassed but at the same time you couldn't help but start laughing you got up and sat back down noticing Charlie practically dying of laughter at his desk.

Even though you were still embarrassed, you couldn’t help but laugh before you close your window and the curtains you waved at Charlie again and he did the same you were laying in bed still not tired and you felt a sense of arousal. When you thought about him, kissing you and touching you.

You got up and went over to the box opened it, got out a purple vibrator, and made sure to lock your door. You lay down, slipping off your pajama shorts, and then your underwear, and you slip to hand between your folds gently making circles on your clit. You Whimpered his name at the thought of having Charlie between your legs making you feel like you were in heaven you didn’t just want him you needed him.

You tried to keep quiet, but you moan his name as you slid the vibrator inside you pumping it in and out you find yourself coming to a High as you still were making circles on your clit, you reached your climax, while still thinking about Charlie you moan his name as you came you stopped and tried to catch your breath, your chest rising up and down you clean yourself up and put the vibrator away.

You laid back down you had gone to sleep thinking about this boy and hoping you would get the chance to actually talk to him tomorrow and maybe see if he would invite you to the Cinema club.

[ineffable-opinions]

BL: Romancing in a Bubble?

As always, please let me know if you have suggestions, critiques, comments or corrections.

I will only be discussing BL broadly (here I use BL as an umbrella term) and not just live action. I don’t want to club together BL and GL since in spite of their shared roots they are very different in their genre conventions, target demographics, and history. Also, I am not very familiar with it.

I consider BL a genre in itself – practically well as the way Masala is a cinema genre.

Please check the content/trigger warnings before diving into the works I have mentioned below. Feel free to message or ask.

BL / romance

I don’t think BL is romance or even a sub-genre of romance. A lot of BL is romance. Many more of them have at least a romantic side to them. There is enough overlap between those genres to give the impression that BL is romance. (I remember the discussion Killing Stalking had prompted.)

But there are plenty of BL devoid of romance. Like One Room Angel, Social Reform Season, and The Orc Bride. Similarly, BL is not exactly a porn sub-genre even though there are plenty of ero-BL.

Also, there are plenty of BL where romance takes backseat such as The Night Beyond the Tricornered Window, Blue Morning, Brother, Lawless Gangster and Thousand Autumns.

BL / queer

Queer – Can I call it a genre the way I call BL a genre? Even if one were to ignore queer as method in academia, it is still so complex.

Let me quote Taiwanese tongzhi (queer) author Chiang-Sheng Kuo:

[W]hat exactly is queer literature? Is it queer literature if queer people like to read it, or is it only queer literature if there are queer characters in the books? Or is it an appendage of the queer movement? If a queer author writes a book without queer characters, does that represent a certain aspect of queer culture?

(You can find the whole interview here.)

I think the problem persist even when I think of queer as a label.

Then there is the issue with conception of “queerness” itself. Like, in a way it is a limiting term. Is it fair to call normative or customary male-male erotic practices such as masti and Launda Naach, “queer” just because that’s how it is perceived elsewhere now?

To quote what Kaustav Bakshi wrote in Writing the LGBTIHQ+ movement in Bangla:

In the last decade, the question of decolonizing queer epistemologies was being raised periodically, whereby queer politics, despite having a shared agenda of toppling heteronormativity, and queer culture, albeit having a shared aesthetics, became more and more regionalist – not in a negative sense – but, with implications of difference, which can be interpreted and understood only when one subjectively experiences the ‘region’ with respect to gender, class, caste, ethnicity, physical and intellectual ability, access to education, metropolitan cultures, and most importantly, the internet.

[T]he attraction towards the launda is not understood as ‘queer’ – non-normative or out of the ordinary – but, as an integral part of sexual life, which is not always compulsively alert to the heterosexual-homosexual binary.

Imo, decolonizing queer epistemologies comes in handy when discussing BL since there are plenty of BL dealing with:

Historical BL set in eras and locations that had customary male-male sexualities and practices.

BL with special settings, like omegaverse, with different (if any) idea of queerness.

BL / other queer content

Just as Japan has gei-comi, and other manga like Shoujo Manga Artist Minamoto-San Comes Out, and Kieta Hatsukoi (shoujo), What Did You Eat Yesterday and My Brother's Husband (seinen) beside BL manga, different countries offer diversity in queer content with noticeable overlap. But clubbing them together would not be easy. Moreover, this diversity is as much cross-sectional as it is temporal (tanbi, JUNE, shonen ai, yaoi, BL in Japan).

BL the main difference between BL and other queer genres is BL’s focus on moe (affect). Anyway, BL predates LGBTQ+ acronym. It predates de-pathologization of homosexuality in many BL creating regions. Fu-people (BL fans) were creating BL before mainstream media started representing queer people in media. Fu-people battled state and its censors everywhere along with queer people. Live action BL is commercialized and we get mostly feel-good content. But that is capitalism (and the State) reaping the dividends of decades of fu-people’s labor of love.

I wonder if it is apt to consider BL the way western queer shows (such Verbotene Liebe, Queer as Folks, Os Nossos Dias and SKAM) as benchmark when discussing BL? Won’t it be better to evaluate consider BL in relation to local non-BL queer content in BL producing countries? But then, there are BL inspired by western queer culture such as Partners by Tamaki Yura.

Here are three gei-comi that I recommend for BL audience, through which they can get an insight into non-BL queer manga from Japan (created with androphilic men as target audience) :

Fire Code by Ichikawa Kazuhide

Fisherman's Lodge by Gengoroh Tagame

Coming Home by Go Fujimoto

Here is my BL versus gei-comi list which I think highlights their differences and similarities (I have included only Gengoroh Tagame’s works since they are probably the easiest to access/buy/borrow):

Do You Remember South Island P.O.W. Camp? by Gengoroh Tagame || Hitori de Yoru wa Koerarenai by Matsumoto Yoh

Arena by Gengoroh Tagame || Jinx by Mingwa

Cretian Cow by Gengoroh Tagame || The Orc Bride by Madobuchiya (Nishin)

Uo to Mizu by Gengoroh Tagame || Terpenoid by Okadaya Tetuzoh

My Brother's Husband by Gengoroh Tagame || The Story of My Brother by Ike Reibun

There is lot of overlap between BL and gei-comi. Gengoroh Tagame first published in JUNE (a magazine that contributed to BL we know now). There are magazines and anthologies (Nikutaiha BL) that offer crossover between different streams of queer content.

Similarly, there are danmei (Chinese BL) novel written by queer men such as the autobiographical works: Six Records of a Floating Life and Waiting Until 35 Years Old by NanKang BaiQi and Bei Cheng Tian Jie (北城天街) by FeiTian YeXiang.

BL / Queerness - exploration and conflict

Here are some live action BL (I’m not including some of the more famous ones like TharnType and Wedding Plan) where plot is rooted in character’s queerness and its exploration or implications:

Lan Yu – first danmei to get live action adaptation. The central conflict is rooted in the queerness of its characters, particularly Chen HanDong.

A Round Trip to Love and Irresistible Love – based on danmei by Lan Lin. These are part of a shared universe. The former has both ‘coming out’ (Cheng Yichen) and ‘leaving home’ (Lu Feng). In the latter, all the conflict is rooted in compulsory heterosexuality and we get the perspective of not only an amphiphilic (bisexual) man (Xie Yan) but also an amphiphilic woman (Xia Jun) of the same social class.

Boys Love: The Movie

No Touching At All (2014)

Udagawachou de Matteteyo (2015)

The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese

Sing in Love (2022) – Queerness is part of the main conflict.

Mood Indigo

Life: Senjou no Bokura

Light on Me

I don’t keep track of these things usually, so this is based off memory.

In Japan, most BL has dealt with the struggles of being queer in a largely heterosexist society since the days of tanbi and shonen-ai (such as Zankoku Na Kami Ga Shihai Suru by Hagio Moto). JUNE gained notoriety for focusing on it and yaoi boom was movement away from that. Then yaoi gained notoriety for existing in a bubble. When BL started to treat heterosexism in society as a part of the narrative, it garnered praise for being ‘transformative’.

BL has managed to carry within it different modes of identity and queerness.

Take Okane ga Nai (No Money) by Hitoyo Shinozaki and Toru Kousaka for example.

It is often held up as the epitome of all that is wrong with BL (or yaoi as anglophone fandom calls it). What’s less talked about is the main character, Ayase Yukiya’s queer angst and his exploration of identity that spans several volumes of the manga series. Kano on the other hand doesn’t struggle with his identity at all since his attraction to Ayase is driven by a very strong, initially unreciprocated emotional connection dependency (formed when his father died and he was at his lowest). For him, sexuality is merely a form of expression of his attraction for Ayase. Therefore, it does not inform his identity in anyway.

Within cannon, Someya and Honda’s pairing offer contrast to Ayase and Kano’s pairing. In a way, Kano and Someya have post-queer and pre-queer identities, respectively. Someya is a self-actualized person who mentors other queer characters (club staff, Ayase, Honda, Kano). There is a lot of give and take that happens between Ayase and all the queer people he meets at Someya’s club. Ayase's and Honda’s struggles with identity and sexuality are juxtaposed with Kano's and Someya's self-assured disposition.

That is also why I don’t think I Told Sunset About You stands out much. It can easily fit into the BL fold because there are plenty of BL that approached the same theme as I Told Sunset About You in a similar fashion (including these live action BL: His - Koisuru Tsumori Nante Nakatta, Life: Senjou no Bokura and The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese).  

I recommend the danmei novel Sissy by Shui QianCheng, the author of the works Beloved Enemy, My Stand-In and Meet You at the Blossom are based on, for a more detailed exploration of heterosexism, including femmephobia and homophobia.

Sissy, Beloved Enemy and Professional Body Double (the novel My Stand-in is based on) are all part of 188 group (a shared universe of novels).

There are plenty of other BL from other region that are focus on themes such as heterosexism and compulsory heterosexuality. Here is such a one-shot: Romantic by Motoni Modoru (part of the anthology Tanbishugi).

BL / terms

I like BL and associated terms like danmei because of the culture and the history associated with those terms. Tanbi and danmei are different readings of same characters 耽美 but they represent very different things. Shonen-ai literally translate to boy(s) love but that term (or BRM (boys’ romantic manga) as Emiko Nozawa puts it) carries within it so much history and specific artistic styles and sensibilities. Waai is derived from yaoi/yuri but there are fu-cultural processes, very different from that of yaoi creation, behind the production of Y-novels. I learned a lot from exploring these words alone.

[cookinguptales]

I was reading your latest meta and it got me thinking, mostly the part about how Guillermo's trigger is being undervalued and I agree but also I think he takes Nandor's shit because he knows Nandor actually values him. Like in seasons 1 and 2 there are times when he thinks about killing him, but all starts to change when Nandor saves him from Topher and then Guillermo's like now I know my master cares for me. I think Nandor was very loving by vampire standards from the start, he's just a little better at showing it now, but the big change is not his behaviour, it's that Guillermo is aware that Nandor cares. The bit in 5x01 about the cute montage or even his smile at the cinema proves it. Like we're supposed to think haha he's delusional how funny, but he's not actually, he knows Nandor loves him even when he laughs at him or is being rude. And while Guillermo has gotten more and more secure in the knowledge of how Nandor truly feels, Nandor doesn't have that... at all. If anything each season gives him more reasons to fear abandonmet, there was always the risk of Guillermo leaving and now there's this new fear of him staying and still not being there for him emotionally. The turning is just the icing on the cake. I think to fix things and to make it work between them eventually Guillermo will need to prove to Nandor that he lives him for him and that he doesn't want to leave him ever. I'm not saying marrying Guillermo will fix Nandor, but I'm not not saying it lol

*looks at her entire body of work on ao3* yes, these are subjects I also think about a lot. lmao

No, you're right, these are things I really love about the show. Like I was saying in that meta post, you really do have to look at Nandor's actions through the lens of vampiric norms. Nandor absolutely does not treat Guillermo well by human standards, but by vampire standards... he's downright eccentric, how into his familiar he is. That comes up a lot, actually. Other vampires are weirded out by how devoted Nandor is to Guillermo.

I mean, just look at how we've seen other vampires treat their familiars, including even other vampires in the same house. They're completely disposable. They have them fight like pokemon. They put them down when they get a hangnail. They keep them in dog cages. They've completely dehumanized familiars because they are glorified food.

Like... maybe even worse than food? Like maybe tainted food. Vampires regularly fall for (and turn) humans, but there's such a distaste for familiars. At least other humans are free, y'know? They don't debase themselves the way familiars do. I think that's what disgusts the vampires far more than familiars' intrinsic humanity. It's the servility. The willingness to sacrifice their own. (Vampire shall not kill vampire, etc.) The fact that they take orders, something that most vampires clearly chafe against.

(Side note: it's so interesting that Guillermo, who clearly wants to be a vampire so he is no longer constrained by social norms, has willingly taken on a role that's even more constrained and submissive for years. That's a whole meta post in and of itself, though.)

But despite the blatant disrespect that vampires have for familiars, the open manipulation they use to keep them in line, the total dehumanization they engage in... Nandor doesn't. He protects his familiar. He plays one-on-one games with his familiar. He confides in his familiar. He does what his familiar says, partially to make him happy and partially because he is willing to acknowledge that his familiar is often right. These are all totally foreign behaviors to most other vampires.

Guillermo does come off as delusional at the beginning of the series, but we quickly realize that he's not wrong. Nandor was willing to sacrifice his life (and the lives of the other vampires) to save Guillermo at the Council. He did apologize to Guillermo and try to make it up to him after letting him down at the club. He did save Guillermo from Topher, even if he wasn't emotionally capable of admitting why. Guillermo was right.

Guillermo, we come to realize, actually knows these vampires better than literally anyone. And that's part of why he's been rewarded with a very strange relationship, for a familiar. It's also why he can see through Nandor's surface shittiness to what lies beneath. (Which is occasionally more shittiness, but is often something much softer.) You're right, his smile at the movies really did speak volumes. He knew why he was there, even if Nandor was being a crab at him.

The only thing he doesn't seem to get about Nandor is how easily he can hurt him. I think he's finally, finally starting to understand how much power Nandor has given him. Like... I remember when Nandor went off to join the cult and Guillermo was like "I guess now I know how it feels." He genuinely had not considered up until that moment how badly it had hurt Nandor when he'd left him. He hadn't considered that he had that power over him.

But I think Guillermo gets it now more fully than he ever has in the past, and I think he'll only get it even more by the end of this season. He knows that Nandor has abandonment issues, but he's never seen the way those issues are attached to him specifically. Nandor always plays it off like he didn't miss Guillermo when he was gone, and Guillermo used to believe him. But he's finally seeing how fucking weird Nandor gets when he's worried about Guillermo leaving him. He started to see it in s4, with the wedding stuff, but he's really seeing it now.

Nandor is upset. He's upset purely and only because he thinks Guillermo doesn't want to be with him anymore. And Guillermo really can't ignore that anymore -- and isn't, for that matter. It's really killing him, I think, to finally realize just how much he means to Nandor right after doing something that will damage their relationship, perhaps irreparably. He's finally putting all the pieces together and realizing that even he didn't see how much he means to Nandor.

Nadja and Laszlo, however, know just how fucking weird Nandor's behavior towards Guillermo is and always has been. They know exactly what Guillermo means to him, though they're a little fuzzier on why. (Though thankfully, they are also starting to see the light.) So they understood immediately what the consequences of all this would be.

I do think that Nandor mostly just needs irrefutable proof that Guillermo wants to be with him. He has been damaged by all the times that people have left him in the past, and he's been even more damaged by all the times Guillermo has left him in the past. I do think a large part of why he won't turn Guillermo is because he's afraid that he'll leave once he no longer needs anything from him. I do think that's why he has such weird, unhinged, possessive behavior towards Guillermo's attention. I do think that's why he concocted an entire fucking wedding.

I don't know that marrying Guillermo would completely assuage his fears, especially considering the way that all of Nandor's past marriages have ended, but it sure wouldn't hurt. lmao. I think Nandor probably wants to be the wife this time, too.

I think he just needs something real and tangible that will make him believe fully that Guillermo will never, ever leave him. And hell, who knows? Maybe that'll be Guillermo being turned, knowing that Nandor might kill him for it, and still sticking around.

[livehorses]

Watching the protagonist of Easter-themed movies with the family: "The Prince of Egypt"

[bitter69uk]

“I want to tell you about two amazing women. As a matter of fact, they may be the most unusual women you or I have ever met. One of them is the distinguished mistress of a great house. A familiar figure to readers of society pages. At home in a world of great wealth where a butler is always waiting within call, and a chauffeur waits at the door. The other by contrast is the owner, manager, hostess and principal personality of Edie’s Cocktail Bar. In other words, a saloon in what may be described kindly as the less fashionable side of the city. These two wildly separate women share some amazing and intimate secrets. These secrets I suggest will keep you fascinated right up to the end of our new picture … Dead Ringer. One secret I will tell you right now – both of these women are played by Bette Davis …”

From the trailer for 1964 thriller Dead Ringer (which also promises “Shock upon shock upon shock!”) – which is the Lobotomy Room cinema club’s presentation on Thursday 16 January! Join us to watch perennially fierce screen diva Bette Davis actin’ up a STORM as identical twin sisters over cocktails, downstairs at Fontaine’s – Dalston’s most unique nite spot! Phone 07718000546 or email bookings@fontaines.bar to reserve a seat NOW! Full details here.

[vibratingskull]

Can I request a human f-reader x Thrawn. Reader is a famous HoloNet actor. She is intrigued by Thrawn and flirts with him a bit. He asked her to go to an art gallery with him and she does. I leave the rest to you🙂

You certainly expected some fluff, but instead you'll get Thrawn realizing he needs therapy

Thrawn x f!reader

You wrap a part of your expensive coat over your figure while checking the time.

Any minutes now.

You readjust your sunglasses on your nose, careful to hide your identity. You got so much paparazzi after you lately. Not surprising for an actor of your standing but still as annoying. 

Nobody should have followed you to an art museum, you’re more known to frequent the high restaurants and private clubs, not galleries. It should be a breath of fresh air for you, changing you from the daily routine.

The idea comes from the gentleman that you're waiting for, a polite Grand Admiral with blue skin and burning red eyes. He titillated your curiosity, he was truly an oddity in the system, how an alien could have become a Grand Admiral? You desperately wanted to know more, especially considering that he was a new face in this old and familiar gotha, a little bit of fresh blood. He was the only gentleman to not indulge in your cleavage the night of your meeting, which you appreciated and tried to get to know him better, although the press immediately labeled you a man eater for coming after the rising star of the year.

You sigh.

This stupid reputation is impossible to shake off, just because you found a new boyfriend too quickly after a rupture in the eyes of the public. Now every man under the sun expects you to sleep with them and is just waiting for their turn. 

Idiots!

But not him.

He just patiently talked to you like he would have done anyone else, explaining his passion for art in minute details. He was calm when he talked to you but you could see the fire of his passion in his eyes as he spoke. You listened to him all night… When you revealed you didn’t know much about art he seemed a bit disappointed, but he smiled when you accepted his proposition to discover the latest art exhibition.

So here you are, waiting on the front steps of a museum with large sunglasses despite the rain, waiting for a mysterious gentleman for a delicate soiree full of knowledge and delicacies.

Or at least you hope. 

You shiver with the wind and wrap yourself in your coat. Your stilettos are killing you, but your agent would kill you even more if you were surprised outside not wearing the latest trend of the luxurious brands.

“Lady (F/n)?” ask a deep melodic voice.

You raise your gaze to meet deep red orbs.

“Ah! Grand Admiral Thrawn, you’re right on time!” you praise him.

You check back your chrono, he’s in time down to the second! You blink, incredulous.

“Shall we go inside?” he proposes, offering his arm for support.

He ditched the white uniform for a burgundy turtleneck and white jacket, much more casual and, thankfully, discreet. 

You take his arm with a smile, it eases the pain in your feet a bit.

“Yes! And by the way, I’m not a lady, I’m an actress, “miss” would do just fine.”

“But you are a famous actress, some call you a treasure of the cinema. Would it not be impolite to refer to you as anything else than a Lady?”

“Well, you have my explicit permission to refer to me as "miss "."

“Very well.” he nods, understanding.

He guides you inside the Museum with warm light and cold marble. You take off your glasses and hat.

“Is it wise?” he asks, concerned.

“Nobody expects me here, so they won’t see me.” you explain “Plus, out of the two you’re the most noticeable one!” you tease.

“You are probably right, miss.” he smiles lightly.

“So? What are we going to see?”

“You did not investigate the subject of the exhibition?” He raises an eyebrow.

You pout then smile at him, if you were a child you would have stuck your tongue out to him.

“Of course I know, but you were so passionate the other night when you talked about art, I was hoping to ignite the fire again.”

“I am passionate when I speak about art? I always thought I remained calm and collected to not disturb others.”

“You are calm and collected, but something immediately ignited in your gaze when you spoke about it, like a spark of a flame. It was fascinating to see!”

He tilts his head and holds his chin like he’s thinking.

“I never saw myself as fascinating, I am surprised you would define me in those terms.”

“Well it was very much the other night. You spoke all night long, we didn’t change the subject once!” you laugh.

“I… I am sorry if it bothered you. I will try to remain focused tonight.” he says almost pathetically. He seems genuinely surprised to have his demeanor pointed at, even in positive lights.

“Don’t be. I came here to see the art nerd that you can be. Now let’s go!” You grasp his arm firmer and pull him into the gallery.

___________________________________________________

He never shuts up.

He always has something to say about a piece.

He’s really lucky you find this absolutely adorable.

Even though, to be fair, you’re not helping him to shut up with all your questions. Each time he finishes speaking you ask something, putting a coin in the machine again and he goes for another 15 to 20 minutes of explanations.

You ask as much because you're curious than because you revel in him talking. He has such a voice… you refrain from biting your lips in front of him.

At some point you sit down on a bench, in front of a painting he’s explaining to you, but you have eyes only on his haughty profile, such majesty in his features, such fineness… 

“You are not listening.” he finally lets out.

“I have never been so focused in my life.” you breathe.

“Despite that, you are not looking at the paintings.”

“I have found another piece of art, much more interesting.” you whisper with a sugary voice.

“Really? Where?” he asks with sparkling eyes, looking over the room to find it.

You can’t help but giggle.

He’s so cute.

“I am talking about you, Grand Admiral.” your lips caresses his ear and you put the emphasis on his title.

He turns back to you with… Surprise? Concern? You don’t know but he certainly gots an expression right now.

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” you insist.

Maybe he’s just a bit headstrong.

“I do not follow.”

You purse your lips. What? He’s playing with you?

“What do you not follow? You proposed to me on a date in an art gallery and here I am! As you wished! I’m just going with the flow.”

“I…” now he does seem surprised “I wanted to show you the exhibition.”

What is he…

Oh.

Oh….

“You…” you let out “You didn’t… You wanted… You were just interested in the gallery?”

“Yes.”

Ouch.

This one hurts.

You feel the wave of shame of rejection washing over you. You cross your arms to hug yourself.

“I am sorry if you thought it was something else.” He says infuriatingly gently “It never crossed my mind, I-”

“Yes, okay, no need to twist the knife!” you answer abruptly.

He seems taken aback, but you can’t look him in the eyes now.

You’re so embarrassed!

“You do not understand, it didn’t cross my mind because… I do not define myself outside of my work. Such prospects and opportunities… evade me constantly.” He tries to explain.

You turn to him, raising an eyebrow. What is he on about?

He seems as embarrassed as yourself, like a deer between headlights.

“I just work constantly to reach my goals. And outside of that my life is empty.” He continues.

You open your eyes round.

“Do you realize how sad that sounds?” you finally ask after a minute of embarrassed silence.

“It hitted me as I spoke, yes.” he simply says, eyes in the void “But that is how it is.”

You would have never imagined that, him who was so full of confidence the other night, seemed like someone with a life full and exciting, meeting people at every corner. 

“You have nothing? Absolutely nothing? Not even a friend?” you inquire.

“I do have a friend, several even.” he says quietly.

You’re not convinced at all.

“What do you do all day?”

“I work.”

“And during your leisure times?”

“I work… and go to art galleries”

“You don’t meet people?”

“People rarely want to be disturbed when at a museum, and I am often absorbed by the pieces.”

So it’s none? Nada? Zero? You’re suddenly very worried for him now.

“So you never go to a cinema with your friends? You don’t go on coffee dates? You don’t lounge with a loved one?”

“No.”

“And it doesn’t bother you?” you press him.

“No.” he responds, but it looks like his situation downs on him.

“You-”

You’re silenced by a flash that burns your eyes.

“What the?”

Then suddenly, an armada of flashes crackles around you as you try to protect your eyes.

Paparazzis!

You curse yourself, they find you!

As you're about to shout at them to leave you Thrawn seizes your hand and starts running. You follow him the best you can with your heels through the long corridors of the gallery, you hear the crowd of journalists following, their steps thundering behind you.

Hurry!

You’re being thrown into a dark room with Thrawn following. You hear the army of journalists passing by the door as you try to catch your breath from the sudden sprint. You’re in some sort of space for brooms and vacuums, a staff only area.

“It was an error to come here.” Thrawn finally says, having recovered his stern and calm demeanor. He looks at you with a hard gaze, making you shiver.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“You tricked me. You knew I do not navigate well in politics and took advantage of it.”

“Wha- What are you on about?” you’re completely lost.

“I have heard the Ministry of propaganda is pulling the strings between certain entities of the State to strengthen the message and offer an appearance of coalition to the population. A Grand Admiral and a famous seductress actress on a date must be perfect for them.”

You look at him with round eyes.

So that’s what he truly thought, that you manipulated him to go on a date for journalists to take juicy pictures of two famous figures of the Empire happy together. You’ve heard of that last communication campaign of the Propaganda Ministry, but you didn’t pay it any attention. Now you understand better the enthusiasm of your agent when you told them you had a date with Thrawn.

Maker damn it! How could you have been so blind?

“Listen, I am sorry. I never planned for it to happen, I swear the only hope I had when coming here was to know you better.”

He looks at you like he’s gauging you, but you don’t back down.

“It’s true, I would have not trapped you like that. I know how annoying it can be to have them on your back and having your image manipulated to fit a narrative.”

He raises an eyebrow after a long minute of silence.

“You do not seem to be lying.” he finally admits.

“I am not. I am as surprised as you are.” you insist.

“Alright, I will concede you this point. I-”

He cuts out, grasps your arm again and pulls you against his broad chest, pressing you both against the wall. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when the door opens, letting light enter the dark room, but you’re protected by the back of the door and invisible.

It’s a paparazzi, still looking for you apparently.

“Hey! That is a staff only room, get out!” you hear a voice behind them, and they close back the door leaving you both alone.

You let out your breath, but you don’t budge from your position, pressed against his large chest, maybe a bit cheekily you let your palm on his breast. You feel safe in his arms.

Strangely he doesn’t release you, but he seems too concentrated on the sound of steps out of the room to even realize it, maybe he thinks the danger is not away enough.

You raise your head to admire his profile, his shining red eyes in the dark. You can smell his cologne, a mix of chemistry scents, lavender and honey. He smells really good.

He finally lets you go, looking down at you from his height.

“I am sorry for this abrupt reaction.” he presents his excuses.

“No, it’s nothing. You got really sharp reflexes.” you praise him timidly, a bit intimidated by his stature. “Hum… You know, I can teach you, if you want?” you try.

“What do you mean?”

“To take time for yourself, to relax properly. If you trust me enough, of course…”

It’s been a while since you served such bad pick up lines, but something tells you he won’t pick up on that.

“I told you my life pleased me like that.” he blocks you with.

“Really? You did not seemed that certain back on the bench, in all honesty you seemed more lost than anything else.” you counter.

“It is just-” He says angrily but he instantly calms down.

Clearly he’s not used to having his life dissected like that by someone else, contrary to you.

“I am content with this situation.” he finishes more gently.

“You are content, but are you happy?”

“My happiness does not matter.”

“Wha… Of course it does!” you say furious.

“No, it never has and it never will, my goals are more important.”

“Do your goals take you so much time that you can’t even indulge yourself with a friend?”

“I told you I have friends here.”

“Really, how many?”

“Two.”

You never heard something that sad in a while.

“Let me guess, those plentiful two friends are also your colleagues?”

“Yes.”

You have the sudden urge to shake him violently.

“Do you hear yourself? Do you TRULY hear yourself?”

“I do. But what I fail to understand is why you care so much about my life.” he answers placidly.

“I don’t know?! Maybe because I met a nice gentleman one night and he seemed polite and gentle? And I hoped to know him better? Maybe more? And then he just dumped on me the most heartbreaking situation I ever heard off and he says he’s contempt with it? What I know for sure it’s that if he didn’t clumsily propose to me on a date we would not be in this situation in the first place!” You shout.

He seems to bite the inside of his cheek, looking straight into your eyes.

“It is useless.” he finally says and extends his hand towards the knob of the door.

“WAIT!” you stop him. “Wait. I shouldn't have said that, but you telling me your happiness didn’t matter got to me.” you explain trying to hold him back.

He looks at you once more, gathering the pros and cons of staying with you in this closet.

He finally turns fully to you and clasps his hands behind his back.

“I am listening.”

“It’s just… It’s heartbreaking to hear. How could you say that about yourself?”

“You know nothing of my situation.”

“And nobody will if you don’t let them reach you. Why would you say that? Why would your happiness not matter? You’re a Grand Admiral of the Empire, you have the right to be happy too.”

“It is interesting that you list my standing as a condition, would my happiness not count for you if I was not a Grand Admiral?”

You wince, he’s really gonna fight you on semantics right now?

“What I mean is everyone’s happiness matters. Why yours would not?”

“I already told you, my goals are far more important.”

“But why would one have to clash with the other? Why not reaching your goals and be happy?”

“Maybe my future happiness depends on my success in reaching my goals, did you think of that?”

“What kind of grand goal are you pursuing to neglect yourself like that?”

“Security. Absolute control over the uncertainty of the universe to protect each life from greater evil.”

“For the Empire?

“For everyone.”

“But you do realize it is impossible, right?” You try reasoning him “You will never be able to control each parameter to the degree of perfection needed to provide security as you envision it? You’re just running a race you’re bound to lose.”

“Maybe. It will not prevent me from trying.” He doesn’t let go.

“You will just burn yourself, consuming your soul to complete annihilation. It is not sustainable.”

“Somebody has to.” He simply remarks, but you hear a touch of sadness in his voice despite his clear gaze.

“It doesn’t have to be you.”

“It might as well be. I was the only one worrying about it back there and I am the only one worrying now.”

“Back there?” you remark.

“Forget it! My point is: I am the only one capable of doing it, I am the only capable of carrying the weight of what it entails, I am the only one capable of paying the cost.”

“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.” 

Now you’re just sad. Does he truly have to bear all of that or did he convince himself he had a higher mission than everyone else?

“Be not mistaken, I am aware of my own capacities and limitations. That is why I am the only one fitting the job.”

“You speak so highly of yourself for someone who looked so shaken back on the bench. Do you have to bear this weight alone?”

“But I am not alone. I have my two friends, or “colleagues” as you called them with an acid tone.”

You purse your lips. He gots the thickest head you ever met! 

“Are three people really sufficient to save the universe?”

“I have got a whole system behind me to help me in my quest.”

“And that system will still be here for you once you’re done?”

“It will welcome me back with open arms.”

Welcoming back ? Then he's not talking about the Empire ? Then who ? His people that exiled him ? 

"And while you're here ? Who takes care of you ? Who dresses your wounds ? Who hugs you during hard times?" 

"I take care of myself. Like I said, I alone can bear the weight of that mission." 

"And why do you do it ? For a medal ? For recognition ?" 

He shakes his head. 

"Sometimes hard work bears its own fruits. I do it because it is necessary."

You lower your shoulders. He doesn't budge whatever you say, you can't get to him. 

It's disheartening to see.

“So that’s all? You’re just gonna let yourself fall as long as you win?”

“Who says I am falling?”

“You did, when you negated your own worth as an individual being and right to happiness.”

“Are you not a tad dramatic?”

You pout.

“I’m an actress. That is my job to be dramatic, but that also means I’m good at picking up when someone is masking and playing a comedy.”

“So you hypothesize I am masking and playing a comedy to the rest of the universe?”

“I don’t hypothesize, I affirm it and you’re playing it to yourself.”

He remains silent.

“I don’t know how you manage to do it, but you convinced yourself that your worth was measured by your success in your career and your capacities to carry out your duties…”

He raises an eyebrow without stopping you.

“But that is not how things work, you matter as an individual being and your worth exceeds your success and failures. I don’t know how to tell it for you to take it seriously but you need therapy. A LOT of therapy.”

He holds his chin, pensively.

“Well, we got therapists for post traumatic stress in the Navy.”

You shake your head. Well at least he didn’t outright reject the idea.

“No. It’s deeper than post traumatic stress, you must be carrying that since far longer.”

“Oh, you are a therapist yourself?” He slightly grin.

You give him a black look.

“I’m serious, Grand Admiral.”  

“Let us say I follow your advice. I go on therapy and then what? Will you be happy?”

“And then I don’t know. Try gardening, write a book, fuck someone and dump them the next day, try all the coffees of Coruscant, collect dvd’s, find yourself new hobbies. Live for yourself for once.”

“And find new friends?” He teases again.

“Yes! Plenty of friends, build yourself a new system dedicated to your well being.”

“And you hope you will be among them?”

You shrug.

“Why not? You stayed to listen to me in this little closet, why not continue over a beer or a coffee?”

“Well, it is an interesting proposition.” He grins “You got some boldness to suggest a Grand Admiral of the Empire needs therapy and friends.”

You grin back.

“Keep me in your circle and you’ll see what I am truly capable of.”

His grin vanishes as he recovers his collected attitude. You see a touch of pain in his gaze.

“What you suggest will take years of unmaking.”

You extend your hand to him with a comforting smile.

“Taking care of one self is a battle of every moment. And that is why having friends is important, to support you through your inner changes.”

He looks at your hand, considering it.

“Is it a pure proposition, or are you hoping for more?”

You wince, he didn’t lose track of that little point. He’s less clueless than you hoped.

“No, you’re right.” You choose honesty, you don’t want to tell him lies “I have hopes it leads to something more.”

He remains silent once more, lowering his head.

“I can not promise anything.”

“I know, but aren’t you willing to try too? To see for yourself, what life can offer you?” you graze his hand with your pinkie finger.

He opens his mouth to close it again.

“We can start as simple friends, and see where it leads us. Maybe nowhere, maybe to something great....”

“I do not like uncertainty,” he counters.

“It is the spice of life.” You smile comfortingly.“I can accompany you through it.”

He hesitantly takes your hand and you squeeze it. His skin is warm and soft.

“It will be your first step towards a healed self.” 

And you oh so gently came to press your lips on his cheek. 

He doesn’t reject you.

“Well!” You exclaim “We still have to escape those raptors of journalists.”

“You have a plan?” He asks.

“Trust me, I became a master at escaping them. Follow me!”

And you burst out of the closet together, holding his hand firmly, ready to take up any challenges.

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar

@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics

[denimbex1986]

'...9. All of Us Strangers

Equal parts sexy, sad and strange, this rapturous ghost story re-energised familiar tropes of gay cinema with an exquisite, pained yearning from beyond the corporal realm.

Andrew Scott turned in career-best work as a screenwriter who returns to his hometown seeking inspiration �� and discovers his dead parents have mysteriously returned.

It's a remarkable performance that simmers in self-loathing, but gradually tempers as he's courted by an irresistibly roguish Paul Mescal, who plays seemingly the only other resident in their apartment complex. In the months since its January release, their erotic chemistry has yet to be surpassed on cinema screens.

Departing from his previous, grounded depictions of contemporary queerness — his 2011 breakout, Weekend, was shot entirely on a consumer digital camera — director Andrew Haigh embraced the story's spectral sensuality with unforgettable style. The film's textural landscape of sweat-soaked clubs, crumpled sheets and frothy bathtubs are steeped in expressive lighting. Disorienting camera work blurs metaphysical barriers; repressed shame re-materialises as its own haunting spectre.

For all its richness of style, All of Us Strangers remains startlingly frank in both sincerity and sexuality, avoiding the simpering, self-insert fantasy that its premise suggests. Under Haigh's assured direction, the film builds to a devastating denouement, crowned by an all-timer of a final shot...'

[startseeingstars]

Killer Instinct - Charlie Walker (Scream 4)

CH11 🎶 Thunderdome - Ocean Grove 🎶

Music blared from the speakers, and the once-empty barn had become lively, tucked away on a dirt road just off the highway, hidden from prying eyes. Stabathon was a whole different level compared to Cinema Club—larger, more chaotic, and charged with a buzzing energy.

The crowd was mostly in costume, and you had thrown yours together at the last minute: a plain white shirt splattered with red paint, courtesy of the campus art facilities. The jeans you wore fit just right, hugging your curves effortlessly. Charlie, standing off to the side, couldn’t help but admire you from a distance. He appreciated that you’d put in the effort, even if your costume was a simple nod to the classic horror icon.

A sudden pressure on your shoulder made you jump, the shock rattling through your bones as you spun around.

Charlie appeared, a crooked half smile on his lips. “Someone’s jumpy.” He teased a little and you blushed. “I make you nervous or somethin’?” His voice and glint in his eye spelled mischief and you giggled.

“Something like that.” You admitted, beginning to walk again. He fell in step easily beside you, pushing the hair out of his face.

“Nice Billy costume,” he smirked as his eyes wandered up and down you in an obvious fashion, handing you a red solo cup. You smiled and took the drink, the noise of the crowd swirling around you.

“I had to get into the spirit, you know?” you said, taking a sip and forcing yourself not to grimace as the harsh liquor burned down your throat.

Kirby appeared at your side, flashing a grin at Charlie. “Another year, another Stabathon. Well done, Walker.” She gave his shoulder a friendly pat, and Charlie beamed, clearly proud of the event he’d organized.

“Speaking of which, we should probably get started.” Charlie glanced over his shoulder at Robbie, who was leaning against the wall, the projector light casting eerie shadows on the barn. “I’ll catch you later,” he added, turning back to you. He hesitated for a moment before planting a quick kiss on your cheek. The unexpected peck made you blush, and you watched him walk away, caught off guard by the gesture.

As Charlie made his way toward the front, he chewed the inside of his cheek, his pulse racing. He couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline—partly because of the kiss, but mostly because he knew Gale was somewhere in the crowd, snooping around where she shouldn’t be, but where they’d counted on her being.

The crowd’s chant echoed through the barn—“Stabathon!” Charlie spotted you and Kirby in the back, caught up in the energy of it all, your voices joining in. Smiling, he walked up to join Robbie at the makeshift stage, which was just a couple of crates they’d scrounged together for height.

Charlie raised his hands to hush the crowd, and the room quickly quieted.

“Cinema Club thanks you for coming out to our third annual Stabathon!” His voice didn’t waver, despite the mix of anxiety and excitement bubbling up in his chest. The crowd cheered, and he could feel his nerves melting into the moment. “Who’s ready to drink every time someone can’t get a cell phone signal?” More cheers erupted from the audience.

Robbie jumped in theatrically, “Who’s ready to drink every time someone shuts the refrigerator door and—oh my God, there’s a harmless character right behind it?” Laughter spread through the crowd, and you couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all.

Charlie raised his red cup, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Who’s ready to drink every time someone screams the word—”

“No!” The crowd, including you, shouted in unison, and you giggled at the familiarity of it. Crowds weren’t usually your thing, but the energy here was different. With Charlie at the center of it all, there was a sense of anticipation you couldn’t shake.

“Let’s start this movie marathon!” Robbie exclaimed eagerly as he and Charlie left the stage. You kept your eyes on Charlie, watching as most people turned their attention to the opening credits projected onto the barn wall. But after a few moments, you lost track of him in the sea of Ghostfaces and bloodied costumes. You frowned, a subtle twinge of disappointment stirring inside you when he didn’t return to your side. Kirby, sitting next to you with a bowl of popcorn in her lap, seemed oblivious to your quiet frustration.

As the movie progressed, you drank when everyone else did, cheered when the crowd cheered, but it didn’t quite feel the same without Charlie by your side. You’d saved him a seat, after all. After a while, you excused yourself to “refresh your drink,” but really, you just needed an excuse to look for him.

You wandered through the crowd for a bit, but after a fruitless search, you pulled out your phone.

Where’d you disappear to? x

Before the message could even send, a firm grip on your arm startled you from your thoughts. You looked up, and there he was—Charlie, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His chest was rising and falling heavily, like he’d just run a marathon, but he was trying to hide it.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, raising an eyebrow at him. “Where’ve you been?” you asked over the booming sounds of the movie. His gaze lingered on you a moment too long, and you caught the flicker of something intense behind his eyes. His heart was racing, and he was practically vibrating with a kind of energy you couldn’t quite place. He wanted to tell you how it felt—how everything seemed to be pulsing with adrenaline and something else—but he held back. He knew better than to share too much.

Before he could answer, the distant sound of police sirens pierced through the noise. Charlie’s eyes flicked to the barn doors with a flash of panic.

“Shut it down!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the crowd, booming louder and more fiercely than you knew he was capable of. A few people booed, but as the sirens grew louder, the mood shifted. You watched as people scrambled to react, unsure of what was happening.

Then the cops barged in, the sound of the barn doors splintering under their force. Flashlights were immediately pointed into the crowd, blinding everyone in their path.

Kirby gripped your arm, and without thinking, you pulled Charlie behind you as you followed her outside. The cold night air hit you immediately, sharper than before, and you regretted not bringing a jacket. The officer ordered everyone to remain in front of the barn, and you stood there, shivering slightly.

Your eyes went to Gale as she was lifted into an ambulance on a stretcher. She was clearly hurt, a bloodied bandage wrapped tightly around her chest and shoulder. Your stomach twisted with worry.

Another attack. At Stabathon. Just like Sidney said. The realization hit you hard.

You turned to Charlie, wide-eyed, but his gaze wasn’t on you. It was fixed on Gale, his expression unreadable. Something dark flickered in his eyes before it was gone, replaced by his usual calm. He finally turned toward you, his voice softer than before.

“Are you cold?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, he was already shrugging off his leather jacket and draping it around your shoulders. The gesture was so natural, so instinctive, that it took you by surprise. As he stepped back, his gaze caught on you in his jacket, his eyes lingering on the way it looked on you. You felt a rush of warmth despite the cold night air, and you blushed hard under his stare.

Just then, a police officer approached, his face grim. “Gonna ask you some questions,” he said in a gruff voice. You nodded, stepping away from Charlie and Kirby, the weight of the situation settling in. The last thing you expected tonight was to be caught up in something like this.

xxx 🎶 Strangers - Kenya Grace 🎶 xxx

You sat on the peeling laminate bench in the bathroom, waiting patiently for Kirby as she showered. Of course, she insisted you couldn’t be alone while she was in there, and it made sense—especially in the dorms—but it meant you were with her practically 24/7.

You’d just finished your own shower and smelled like herbal soaps, but the scent of Charlie’s jacket wrapped around your shoulders was overpowering. As you slipped your hands into the pockets to keep warm, your brows furrowed when your fingers brushed against something damp inside the right pocket.

Pulling your hand out, you stared at the reddish tint staining your fingertips. Blood. The residue was unmistakable.

For a few long moments, you just stared at it, trying to convince yourself it was fake blood. But his outfit hadn’t had any of that on it tonight. And it was strange—he’d disappeared for a while, only to return breathless right before Gale was found wounded.

Your phone buzzed from the sink, startling you. You exhaled sharply, willing your body to relax. You grabbed the phone quickly and saw a text from Charlie.

Thinking of you. Sweet dreams x

‘Sweet dreams’ The text from Ghostface echoed in your mind, and you narrowed your eyes, a cold shiver crawling down your spine. No. Could you really be suspicious of Charlie? The thought felt foreign, but it held a menacing persistence you couldn’t shake off completely.

Just then, Kirby emerged from the shower, her damp hair clinging to her skin as steam billowed around her. She was wrapped in a towel, her expression casual, though you could tell something was off in her tone. “You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The smirk on her lips didn’t reach her eyes.

You quickly shook off your thoughts, forcing a smile as you pushed the unsettling theory of Charlie being a serial killer out of your mind. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Next Year • Handshake • Wake Up • Sun • Someday • Sleep Alone • The World Is Watching • Settle • Spring • Pyramid • Beacon

Spotify ♪ YouTube