#I’m pretty sure the same thing is probably happening with music but I’m not in the know enough to say
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cressidagrey · 2 days ago
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The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 5
Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)
Summary:
Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.
Warnings and Notes: 
Mention of epilepsy, seizures, memory loss, hospitals and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.
As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble
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Lando woke up feeling like absolute shit.
His head was pounding, his mouth was drier than the desert, and judging by the fact that he’s still half-dressed and tangled in a celebratory McLaren flag, last night must have been good.
He groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face. He remembered fragments of the night before - flashes of bright lights, loud music, and way too much drinking.
He had won.
Lando Norris was a Formula 1 Grand Prix Winner.
He had been nearly drowned in champagne by Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.
He had won the 2024 Miami Grandprix.
Lando let out a sigh and gingerly pushed himself up into a sitting position, clutching his head as a sharp pain shot through his temples.
He fumbled for his phone, cringing at the notifications that had piled up overnight. Messages from friends, family, and the racing world congratulating him on his victory.
He blinked blearily at his phone.
Too early. Too bright. Too… too.
But there’s one thing he needs to do before he even considers getting up.
He scrolled through his notifications, heart sinking when he still doesn’t see Lizzie’s name.
But there’s nothing.
His fingers fumble as he types out another message.
Lando: Hey, just checking in. Are you okay? You didn’t answer last night. I was a bit… not in the best state, but I was really hoping to hear from you.
Lando: I’m just worried. Is everything alright? I know I was probably being a bit much last night, but you can always just let me know if you need space or whatever. I just want to make sure you’re good.
Nothing.
Lando stared at his phone, the pit in his stomach growing deeper with each passing second. He didn't understand why Lizzie hadn't responded, and the not knowing was driving him crazy.
He groaned, running a hand down his face.
He tried calling. Straight to voicemail.
His stomach twists.
Lando didn't want to jump to conclusions, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Lizzie was usually pretty good about replying to his messages.
He tried texting again.
Lando: Look, I get it if you need time. I don’t want to come off too strong. I just feel like I should've heard from you by now, and I’m starting to panic a bit. Just a quick text would help me breathe for a second, you know?
Lando stared at his phone, watching the time tick by with agonizing slowness. He'd been awake for nearly an hour now, and Lizzie hadn't responded to any of his messages.
He tried calling again, only to be met with the same response - straight to voicemail...again.
And then his phone pinged.
Lizzie: Hi, this is Lizzie’s father. She’s in the hospital. Multiple seizures. She’s woken up a few times, but she’s not very responsive. I don’t know who you are, but judging by the way she’s saved your contact as ‘Lando Not Dying Yet Norris,’ I assume you’re important enough to be told.
Lando blinks. Stares. His hangover vanishes instantly.
She’s at the Royal Sussex Hospital. Thought I’d tell you in case you want to show up to visit her.
Lando feels like all the air has been sucked from the room.
Hospital. Seizures. Not responsive.
He doesn’t even realize he’s shaking until he fumbles trying to type back.
Lando: I—fuck. Is she okay? What happened?
Three little dots appear, then vanish. Then appear again.
Lizzie: She’s stable. But it was bad.
Lando pushes back the covers, already moving, already grabbing for his McLaren hoodie like that will somehow help him fix this.
He needs to be there.
Now.
His hands are unsteady as he opens his flight app. The next available flight back to London is in four hours.
Not soon enough.
Lando: I’m coming back to the UK. I’ll be there as soon as I can.
There’s no reply, but Lando doesn’t care. His heart is hammering, his mind racing, and there’s only one thing he knows for sure—
He has to get to Lizzie.
He…
There was a knock at the door.
Lando jumped, his already frayed nerves on edge. "Who is it?" he called out, his voice cracking slightly.
“It’s Oscar.”
Lando sagged with relief as he recognized the Australian accent drifting through the door. “Come in.”
The door creaked open and Oscar Piastri poked his head into the room. His eyes widened when he saw Lando’s harried expression. “Mate, you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Lando shook his head, feeling the tension in his shoulders tighten even more. "No, not alright. Lizzie’s in the hospital. Multiple seizures."
Oscar’s expression immediately darkened. "What the hell? Multiple seizures? How is she doing now?”
“Not good, apparently. Her dad said she’s stable, but she’s not very responsive. I’m flying back to London to see her.” Lando ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his heart still racing with worry.
“God damn.” Oscar stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him. He studied Lando’s face for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “You’re a mess, mate. Have you eaten anything?”
Lando shook his head, the thought of food making his stomach churn. "No, I haven't even had a chance to think about food. I’m just freaking out, mate. I’ve never seen her have a seizure, let alone multiple seizures…She had one last week before we had dinner, but she seemed fine, just tired… I have no idea how bad it’s going to be. This is...this is so messed up."
Oscar nodded sympathetically, his expression still grave. "Go," he said simply. "I'll make your apologies to Zac and the team."
Lando nodded numbly, already moving to pack a bag. Oscar stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "And mate? Try to keep calm. You won’t do Lizzie any good if you’re a wreck yourself."
Lando huffed out a breath. "I’ll try."
"Can you tell Max..." Lando trailed off. He had no idea what to even…
Oscar's expression softened. “I’ll tell Max. And the others. You just focus on getting to the hospital, alright?”
Lando nods, his throat suddenly feeling thick. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Oscar."
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linisiane · 1 year ago
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This trend issue is seeping into art.
There are the more innocuous versions of this, like the recent naming of the CalArts Art Style or the Jelly Art Style or the Cream Soda Art Style for drama on TikTok, but then we get into the insidious flooding of beginner art forums with questions like “What style is this?”
And it’s insidious because beginner artists can and will ask this question in good faith.
Lots of people are inspired by ‘styles’ like “anime” art and will ask for help looking for more references.
But, nowadays, AI bros will masquerade as these beginners in these forums with pictures of art they’re trying to steal from, hoping to find keyword prompts for their grift. Which then leads to a bunch of commenters attacking any and all “What’s this style?” posts out of a reasonable fear that any responses to these questions will be fed to an AI.
Bet you can guess where that leads.
Yep, baby artists attacked out the gate and treated with hostility over a pretty common misconception because it makes them indistinguishable from AI bros. And this misconception is also partially why I’m not a huge fan of AI bros:
They tout themselves as artistic revolutionaries progressing the field, yet they’re making the exact same mistake as art noobs, which is thinking that Art Style is prescriptive.
It’s not. It’s descriptive.
It makes sense to name art styles for huge movements of artists with generally shared characteristics, like putting anime artists under one umbrella, just like how clothing trends in the past were named. A description after the fact. But these noobs aren’t asking for “anime” as a response. Anime is too broad, it could look like anything from Aku no Hana to Panty and Stocking!
What they’re looking for is a niche art style with a clear set of aesthetic features that they can Google. They want you to take their examples of 5 wildly different art pieces off Pinterest and list for them a style that consolidates them, the way you would while compiling a ballet coquette Pinterest board or a light academia aesthetic TikTok slideshow.
And I can’t blame them for that, because that’s exactly how the Jelly Art Style and the Cream Soda Art Style and ESPECIALLY the CalArts Art Style works.
What I am blaming is the way algorithms on social media and within AI have changed the way we think about art styles, prioritizing grouping all these unique artists into an easily identifiable, pinterestable, Instagram-Face art marketable rabbit holes. By doing so, they rob the artworks—not of some mystical quality of originality, nothing is original—but of their connection to the PEOPLE who originally made them.
With art movements like Fauvism, you can trace the origins and inspirations of the art style to specific artists. If you ever needed references for them, they’re listed right there on Wikipedia.
When the digital art community discussed art styles in the past, it was usually in direct reference to a specific artist’s style. The Samdoesarts art style. The Galactibun animatic style. How to find YOUR art style.
These artists could literally tell you which artists they studied if you ever needed more references on how to draw in their style. Style wasn’t some mystical thing that came fully formed out of the bowels of TikTok’s algorithm, it was your personal distillation of all the different people you were inspired by.
In contrast, if you were to ask me to list artists who use the Jelly Art Style or Cream Soda Art Style, I wouldn’t be able to list a single one, even though I know EXACTLY what the styles look like. AI art may still be in its infancy, but the separation of art from the artist is already here.
So yeah, I’m sick of the question “What style is this?”
If you want, a bandaid solution would be to replace all these style questions with “What artists drew these pictures?” or “Who was this artist inspired by?”
My solution, of course, is to become powerful enough to Kill All Algorithms.
Even though she's talking about trends and fashion this is applicable to so much of online culture
The obsession with labelling the most specific things to the point of uselessness and silliness
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twistedpink · 1 month ago
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Mc inserts x TWST characters pt.2 (OG post) (Pt.3)
(non-yuu pairings that fit into the plot of twst, if you like this then you might want to look at the first part!)
Savanclaw!Mc x Cater Diamond
Enemies to lovers with your favourite diva!! The two of you compete constantly through magicam and spelldrive, getting progressively pettier until the only solution is to kiss it out.. You’re trying to keep an ear out for your junior, and it just so happens Cater’s sniffing out your plan to go for gold in this year’s tournament. You might as well take the chance to mess with him! It’s so easy to love the face he makes when you give him the slip, and you’re totally making it your wallpaper when this is all over.
“Yo, Babe! If you’re in the same dorm, then you know Ruggie, yeah? We need to have a chat”
“Ohmigod you totally think all beastmen know each other, don’t you?? cancled :)”
Shroud!Mc x Vil Schoenheit
Ids attached himself to engineering and gaming pretty early, but your passion is fully unattainable. You’d clung onto pop idols and the art of stage makeup from an early age. Your longest running interest by far is Vil Schoenheit,, He rescued you from destructive habits and encouraged you to value self improvement. You’ve probably invested millions into his career (every thaumark sent anonymously, you’d die if he started to recognize your attached messages). Supporting Ortho in his SDC audition is your official reason to talk with him, and all the teasing from Idia will be so worth it when your Schoenheit debut palette gets signed! You’ve kept it in mint condition behind glass for years admiring it- and waiting for THE day.
“Mr. Schoenheit? My younger brother performed for you today, and uh, your signature please?”
“Normally I’d send both of you home for this. I’m sure you’re well aware of my paparazzi policy, However, I haven���t seen this particular relic in years! Just what have you done to preserve the quality?”
Pomefiore!Mc x Ruggie Bucchi
You’re #1 in the business of pissing off your parents- shopping copious amounts and then going to school across the country satiated you for awhile, but they’ve done something particularly revenge worthy now. The best scandal you can think of is getting a trashy boytoy to bring home for the break, but you’re not really into idiots.. Ruggie can be a very good actor given the right motivations, and he might even fool you into a real relationship before next semester.
“C’mon it’s not like I’ll need a script, sugar. I’m a natural, scout’s honor!”
“Either way, it won’t hurt to rehearse for convenience :/ Kiss me now so we don’t look stupid later.”
Scarabia!Mc x Floyd leech
God you hate that fish faced idiot >:( It’s bad enough that the housewarden’s moodswings guaranteed your holiday plans were all shot, but now Jamil’s getting hounded by the mafia! It’s your responsibility to get them off his back, but it’s not like you’re enjoying it. Somehow it’s even worse to watch Floyd when he’s playing dumb, and his emotional roller coaster keeps you walking on eggshells. The show must go on though, and if you’ve gotta play “wrestle until the biting stops” then you’ll do it :/
“Floyd, it’s dinner time, and I will tear you a new one if it means you’ll get moving.”
“PLEASEEEE tiger sharky just one more round :( I’ll even give your pen back!!”
Octavinelle!Mc x Kalim Al-Asim
You’re probably one of the most talkative of octavinelle students, and definitely a solid salesman. Kalim’s a prime target for resales and marketing practice, so naturally you join the pop music club. A year of “playing nice for the jackpot” leads you to lie awake at night, terrified that he’ll see through your facade and ditch you- it would cut off your best friendship, you’d be forced to leave the club! At some point you realize you’d stopped selling him things months ago, and your worst nightmare happened right under your nose. You fell in love.
“Hey, that solo was so inspiring! You’re really making progress!”
“It still isn’t on par with yours, though. Are you available to keep practicing after school? I’m sure Jamil would appreciate the break, and I would enjoy the company..”
Staff!Mc x Lilia Vanrouge
Of course your first job would come with some pet bat, it was too good to be true :( Full time at a bits and bobs shop near one of the best schools in the country WITH flexible hours? You must’ve been desperate to accept without reading about your babysitting in the footnote. He comes in everyday during your shift (regardless of the hours you take, it’s like he has a sixth sense), and has the audacity to exist in your space! It’s not like he even does anything to get banned!! He just stands there. Menacingly. You’re waiting for the day where he leaves convincing evidence that he’s there to traffic you or something- because if you didn’t know better you’d think he has a big, fat crush on you.
“Darling, how is the shop? I’ve taken care of those juvenile delinquents for you!”
“Taken care of? Whatever. Get back to class, kid.”
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dystopic-view · 4 months ago
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My roommates concert (+18)
Geto x fem/afab reader
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: After two months of being roommates, and kissing on the first day you met, you and Geto have grown close, enjoying each other's company without crossing any lines. But one night, when you go to watch him perform at a small gig, everything changes. A quiet moment backstage leads to something unexpected, leaving you both questioning where things will go from there.
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: fluff, bassist geto, jealousy, slow burn, nsfw, longing, sexual tension, teasing, foreplay, body worship, oral sex (female receiving) unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie
𝐖.𝐂: 6.7K 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓: the contents of this story are a part 2 to this one. make sure you read it first. ♡
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You had been Sugurus roomate for two months now, and while neither of you had labeled anything, there was definitely something there.
The air between you had shifted.
There was a comfort in being around him, but the tension from that first kiss still lingered.
Not only that, but nothing else had happened between you two since.
You were sitting on the couch, legs tucked under you, scrolling through your phone as Geto tuned his bass across the room.
He had been talking about an upcoming small gig for a couple of days, and that night had finally come.
“It’s nothing special,” he said, looking over at you as he plucked at the strings. “Just a few guys from my old band, jamming at this little place we used to play at back in the day.”
You smiled, watching him, noting the excitement in his eyes that he was trying to play off as casual. “You seem pretty excited for it to be nothing special.”
He chuckled, shaking his head as he adjusted the strap on his bass. “I mean, it’s been a while. I’m just looking forward to it, I guess. And, you know…” He hesitated, glancing over at you. “It’s cool that you’re coming to watch.”
You felt a small warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “I wouldn’t miss it. Gotta see if you’re as good as you say,” you teased, earning a smirk from him.
As you headed out together, the energy between you felt comfortable but charged, the same way it had been for weeks.
There clearly was something going on between the two of you that surpassed the lines of being just roommates, but neither of you had made a move to define it.
Two months of living together, and you had both settled into an easy routine.
Sharing meals, hanging out, talking late into the night, but always with that tension in the air surrounding you, just beneath the surface.
You were sitting at a small, dimly lit table in the back of a bar, chatter and clinking glasses filling the space around you.
The place had a grungy, intimate vibe, with faded posters on the walls and a few scattered tables occupied by groups of friends, mostly locals.
You sipped your drink, trying to shake off the slight nervousness bubbling in your chest.
You had never seen Geto perform before, and even though he had mentioned it casually, you could tell playing meant a lot to him.
The lights were dimmed, and the stage at the front of the room was lit by a single spotlight.
It was almost time for the band to start, and as the minutes ticked by, your anticipation built. Your eyes scanned the room.
There were all kinds of people there, some your age, others older but clearly all were there for the music.
A group of girls near the stage caught your attention.
They were laughing, leaning against the bar, looking a little too eager for the band to come out.
You pushed the thought aside, trying to not let it bother you.
You knew you and Geto weren’t technically together, but still, there was something about seeing other girls there, probably hoping for his attention, that made your chest tighten.
Then, the lights shifted slightly, and Geto stepped onto the stage with his bass slung over his shoulder, his usual calm expression adorning his face.
You sat up straighter, your pulse quickening at the sight of him in a different light.
Literally.
The quiet guy you had been getting to know for months now suddenly looked different, more confident, like he belonged up there.
He was dressed in a simple black t-shirt, that accentuated the lean muscles in his arms and the tattoos that peeked out from under his sleeves, revealing the intricate patterns snaking down his forearms.
Bold, dark lines stood out under the low lights, drawing attention to the ink that usually stayed hidden behind long sleeves.
That night, though, they were on full display, and that added to that air of mystery already surrounding him.
His hair, which he normally wore loosely tied back, was pulled into a slightly messy bun at the nape of his neck, with a few strands falling free to frame his face.
There was something about the way the dim stage lights reflected in his dark hair and highlighted the sharp angles of his face that made him even more captivating.
As he stood there, bass in hand, his presence was magnetic.
You were used to seeing him laid-back and quiet at home, but up there with his tattoos visible and his sharp features highlighted, he looked more intense, more sure of himself.
You could almost hear the gasps of that group of girls in front of the stage from where you were sitting in the back of the room, as Geto walked out on stage.
The crowd quieted down, the buzz of conversation fading as the rest of the band came out and began to set up.
You watched Geto as he adjusted his bass and the way his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings.
You couldn’t help but watch the way he looked making it impossible for you to stray your eyes away.
When they started playing, the sound was raw and heavy, the bassline deep and steady, and you could feel it vibrating in your chest.
Geto looked focused, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips, a quiet satisfaction as the music went on.
The crowd was into it, heads bobbing to the rhythm, and you noticed those girls near the front moving a little closer to the stage, their eyes locked on him.
A drop of jealousy hit you, sharper than you expected, and you took a sip of your drink to distract yourself.
You knew it was silly to feel that way.
He was performing, not even paying attention to them.
But you found it really hard to ignore the way they seemed to be trying to catch his attention, especially when you had been growing closer to him those past few weeks.
Your eyes were glued on Geto, though.
He was captivating, you were entranced by the way he moved with the music, his focus entirely on the performance.
And yet, every once in a while, you caught him glancing in your direction, almost like he was checking to see if you were watching.
Each time, your heart skipped a beat, the tension between you feeling like it was tightening even more.
The set continued, the music filling the space, but you were caught in your own thoughts.
The sight of him up there, so in control, so confident, stirred something in you.
You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same thing, the same thing that had been brewing between you for weeks.
As the final notes of the set faded, Geto looked out over the crowd, his gaze landing on you.
For a brief second, the noise of the bar faded away, and it felt like it was just the two of you in the room.
His eyes lingered on yours, and you could clearly feel a silent acknowledgment of the tension between you, the unspoken attraction that had been building for so long.
And then he looked away, turning back to his bandmates.
You were still sitting at the table, trying to ignore the excited energy from the group of girls near the stage.
You finished your drink, trying to ignore the way they began clapping and shouting for another song.
One of the girls from the group started to make her way over to him, her confidence unmistakable as she leaned casually against the side of the stage.
She was smiling, her eyes locked on Geto, and you could already feel that slight hint of jealousy coming back.
You watched, trying to keep your expression neutral, but you couldn’t stop the way your heartbeat raced as she said something to him, leaning in closer than necessary.
She was being bold.
Her hand lightly brushed his arm, and she tossed her hair back, clearly trying to catch his attention.
You sat up straighter, the heat rising in your chest, even as you tried to tell yourself to relax.
It was nothing, right?
Besides, you had seen that before.
Girls always seemed drawn to Geto.
They always seemed drawn to his quiet, mysterious vibe.
You noticed it every time you went grocery shopping with him.
But being used to it didn’t make it easier to watch.
To your relief, Geto didn’t seem fazed.
His body language was distant, his eyes shifting away from hers as if he was barely listening to what she was saying.
He nodded politely, offering a kind smile, but there was no visible interest in him.
Still, the girl didn't notice that.
Instead, she leaned in closer, her voice too distant to hear, but her laughter loud enough to be heard through the noise of the crowd.
Your grip tightened around your empty glass as you watched the exchange, trying not to let the jealousy consume you.
It was irrational.
You knew that.
Geto wasn’t interested, that was obvious.
But it was really hard to ignore the fact she was so clearly making a move on him, right in front of you.
Just as you were about to look away, the girl's gaze suddenly shifted in your direction, her eyes narrowing slightly when she noticed you already staring back at her.
It was like she was sizing you up, acknowledging your presence for the first time.
The corner of her mouth lifted into a smirk, and she turned back to Geto, saying something that you couldn't exactly hear, but could clearly see through her body language.
She was trying to claim him, as if to say,“watch this, he’s mine.’’
You could feel the irritation building up inside of you, but before you could react, Geto followed her gaze and locked eyes with you.
For a split second, the noise of the bar seemed to fade again, just like it had during his performance.
His expression softened the moment he saw you, and there was a flash of something in his eyes.
Reassurance, maybe?
A subtle sign that he didn’t care for her.
Without missing a beat, Geto pulled away from the girl, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped down from the stage.
He made his way toward you, the girl watching in silence, a stunned expression on her face, her confidence wavering as she realized she had lost his attention.
The smirk vanished from her lips, but you could feel her eyes burning into you as Geto approached.
He stopped in front of you, that familiar calmness coating his features as he gave you a small, almost teasing smile.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low and casual, as if the entire room wasn’t buzzing with energy.
“Hey,” you replied, trying to keep your tone steady despite the way your heart was racing.
He didn’t even acknowledge the girl, and you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of victory. The tension between you thickened, but now it felt more like a mutually shared thing, something that neither of you needed to point out.
He didn’t have to say anything.
His actions spoke for themselves.
As you sat there, the moment between you and Geto was interrupted by that girl.
She had followed him to the table, her energy still high.
She leaned on the edge of your table, her smile dripping with false charm.
She was pretending you weren’t even there, directing her full attention back to Geto, her voice suddenly louder, faker.
“Suguru,” she purred, using his first name as if they had known each other for years. “You were amazing up there. I didn’t know you were that good.”
You rolled your eyes internally, trying not to let the irritation show on your face.
Geto, still standing close to you, just gave her a polite nod. “Thanks,” he said, his tone flat. He averted his gaze slightly, making it obvious that he wasn’t planning on keeping the conversation going, but she didn’t seem to take the hint.
Instead, she leaned in closer to him, her fingers brushing the sleeve of his shirt. “We should definitely hang out sometime,” she said, her voice lowering just a bit, like she was trying to seduce him.
Your grip tightened on your glass, and you glanced up at Geto, but he was still calm, barely reacting to her attempts.
His eyes flickered toward you briefly, as if to check in, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
Almost like he was amused by her persistence.
Before he could say anything, though, the girl turned her attention toward you, finally acknowledging your presence.
She looked you up and down, her expression dripping with fake sweetness. “Oh,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “Are you a fan of the band too, or are you just here for… moral support?”
You could feel the passive-aggressive energy behind her words, and it took everything in you to keep your expression neutral. “Sure,” you responded coldly, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
She chuckled, clearly unimpressed. “Cute,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “But you know, real fans get to know the band… personally.”
Her eyes flashed to Geto again, as if she was waiting for him to back her up.
But he was silent, looking almost bored by her remarks.
Instead of reacting, he finally stepped closer to you, subtly putting some distance between himself and the girl.
He placed his arm around your shoulders, the gesture casual but possessive enough that it was impossible to miss.
And unexpected enough that it made you jump slightly in your chair at the sudden touch.
“I’m good, thanks,” he said to the girl, his voice calm but final. “I’ve got plans tonight.”
The girl blinked, clearly not expecting his bluntness. “Plans?” she repeated, her voice faltering as she glanced between the two of you, the realization finally hitting her.
The smirk on her face disappeared, replaced by a spark of annoyance.
“Yeah,” Geto replied, his eyes locked on yours now, a small smile playing on his lips. “With her.”
“Oh,” she said, feigning surprise, but you could tell she wasn’t giving up just yet. “Well, maybe we can all hang out sometime?”
You felt a mix of annoyance and amusement at her persistence, and quickly acted upon those feelings, shaking your head. “I think we’ll pass,” you replied firmly, the irritation creeping into your voice.
She pouted slightly, clearly not expecting the rejection, but instead of giving up, she leaned in a little more, undefeated. “Are you sure?,” she insisted, turning to him, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I’m pretty fun.”
You could sense the tension in the air as she tried to navigate her way back into the conversation, but Geto’s focus remained on you, and you could see the slight shift in his expression.
He was done entertaining her.
“She said, we’ll pass,” he said, a subtle annoyance in his tone that made it clear he wasn’t interested in indulging her further.
She scoffed a little, finally realizing her attempts weren’t proving successful, and straightened up. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you two alone,” she said, forcing a smile. “But you should definitely think about it.”
With one last flirtatious glance, she turned and walked away, the sound of her heels clacking on the floor fading into the background noise of the bar as she went back to her group of friends.
She left, and the air suddenly felt lighter, but still charged.
“Sorry about that,” he said, his voice low, a hint of amusement in it. “Some people just don’t get the hint.”
You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. “No worries. I get it. It’s not your fault.” But deep down, you couldn’t help the flutter of excitement that rushed through you.
He chose you over her, and that realization sent a rush of warmth through your chest.
“Hey, do you want to come backstage and meet the guys from the band?” he asked, his tone casual but you could see a hint of excitement in his eyes.
“Really? I’d love to!” you replied, surprised yet thrilled at the invitation.
The thought of getting to know his world a little bit better was exhilarating, and you felt honored he was showing it to you.
You followed him to the back of the bar, and he led you to a hallway that ended with a door to a dressing room.
You entered behind him, and looked around.
The walls were also adorned with posters and the faint sound of old rock music played from a distant speaker.
An old looking couch sat against one wall, surrounded by a few scattered bottles of beer and a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting at a low table, giving the room a laid-back, messy yet comfortable vibe.
The lighting was dim and the air was thick with the scent of wood and a hint of cigarette smoke.
Inside, the band members were busy packing up their equipment, but they stopped to greet you with warm smiles. “Hey, you made it!” one of them said, his friendly demeanor instantly putting you at ease.
Geto stood beside you, his body language exuding satisfaction, as if he was proud to have you there.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t miss it,” you replied, feeling your cheeks heat up red at the way all of their eyes were on you.
They exchanged glances, but you caught the way Geto watched you, his gaze softening.
The guys started asking you questions about your music taste, and soon enough, the room was filled with laughter and easy conversation.
They told you about their old gigs, shared funny stories from their concerts, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying their company.
Each time you glanced at Geto, you saw him smiling, clearly happy that you were fitting in so well.
“Honestly, we need more people like you in our crowd,” one of the bandmates joked, nudging Geto playfully. “He never brings anyone to hang out!”
You laughed, a warm feeling spreading in your chest. “I’m lucky to be here tonight then.”
As the conversation continued, you felt a genuine connection with the band, and it was easy to understand why Geto liked them so much.
They were relaxed, funny, and very supportive of each other.
But eventually, the time came for them to start packing up their things, and the energy in the room shifted slightly.
“We’ve got to get our gear to the band van before the bar kicks us out,” one of the guys says, glancing at the clock.
They all started getting up from their seats, and as the excitement of the moment began to fade, you felt a slight pang of disappointment.
“Thanks for having me, guys. It was really nice meeting you!” you said, trying to hold onto the warmth of the evening.
“Anytime! You should come to our next gig,” another bandmate suggested, giving you a grin as they gathered their things.
Geto looked at you, and there was a moment of shared understanding.
The relationship between him and his bandmates was great, but the connection you had been building felt even more special after that.
As the last of the equipment was loaded up into their van, the band members said their goodbyes, leaving you and Geto alone in the cozy dressing room.
The atmosphere felt different, quieter, and the soft glow of the low lights created an intimate setting that enhanced the tension between you.
You and Geto exchanged glances, and there was a shift in the air around you, a palpable awareness of each other that wasn’t there before.
He stepped a little closer, the distant sound of laughter and chatter outside barely reaching you.
“You did great tonight,” you said, your voice soft but filled with sincerity.
“Thanks. I’m glad you came,” he replied, and there was a warmth in his tone that made your heart race.
In that small, intimate space, the unspoken feelings between you two started to bubble to the surface, and you couldn’t shake away the thought that something significant was about to happen.
The room felt comfortable, the lingering sound of the bar's music fading into the background of the moment you were sharing, where it was just the two of you.
No distractions.
No expectations.
Just the quiet tension that had been building for weeks.
You both settled onto the small couch, the air thick with unspoken words.
You inhaled deeply, and took a moment to collect your thoughts, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you.
“I really can’t believe how good you were up there,” you started, trying to keep your tone light, but there was an intensity in your gaze. “You looked incredible, and the way you played... It was amazing. I really enjoyed it.”
Geto shifted slightly, a hint of a smile creeping onto his lips at your praise. “Thanks,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “It means a lot to hear that from you.”
You took a breath, deciding to be upfront about what you had experienced earlier. “But I have to be honest... I felt a bit jealous when those girls were looking at you like that,” you confessed, your cheeks warming. “I know we’re not together or anything, but I couldn’t help it.”
Geto’s expression shifted, surprise flashing across his face.
“You don’t have to apologize for how you feel,” he said, his tone steady yet gentle. “I get it. It’s not easy watching people try to grab my attention when I’m just trying to focus on the music.”
You glanced down, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I know it sounds stupid. I shouldn’t feel that way...”
“No, it’s not stupid,” he interrupted softly, his voice firm. “I understand how you feel.” He leaned in slightly, the distance between you shrinking, and your heart raced at the change in his demeanor.
“Really?” you asked, looking up at him, searching for sincerity in his gaze.
“Yeah,” he replied, his eyes locking onto yours. “Even if we’re not technically together, it doesn’t change the fact that I like being around you. You mean a lot to me.” His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.
You swallowed, the reality of the situation washing over you. “I... I feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
The warmth in your chest spread, mingling with the excitement of being so close to him, and as he shifted closer, you could feel the heat radiating from him. “I didn’t bring you here just for the concert, you know,” he said, his tone dropping lower. “I wanted you to see that side of me, but I also wanted to spend time with you.”
Your breath hitched, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Geto...” You tried to continue, but he interrupted again, his gaze sincere and focused.
“You don’t need to feel jealous or insecure. It’s just you and me here. And honestly? I’m glad it’s you.” The sincerity in his words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, and the tension lingered in the air, thick and electric.
You sat there, stuck in the intensity of his gaze, the world outside the dressing room fading
into a distant memory.
“I’m really glad I came tonight,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the honesty behind your words making your heart pick up pace. “It feels different being here with you.”
Geto leaned in closer, the couch suddenly feeling too small for the two of you “It does, doesn’t it?” he replied, his voice low, intimate.
There was something vulnerable in his eyes that caused your breath to falter.
You found yourself moving closer to him, almost unconsciously, the tension wrapping around you like a rope. “I’ve been thinking about this moment,” you confessed, your heart pounding in your chest. “About what it would be like if we didn’t have to hide how we feel.”
He narrowed the gap even more. “Same here,” he admitted, his voice steady, yet filled with an undeniable intensity “It’s hard not to think about it when you’re around.”
As the words hung in the air, the space between you grew heavier with desire.
You could see the emotion in his eyes.
Something raw and genuine.
And it sent a thrill through you.
“I don’t think I can handle just staring at you any longer…” you said softly, your heart racing as you searched his gaze for any hesitation.
But instead, you found only warmth and a deep longing, matching yours.
Without thinking, you leaned in closer, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
He didn’t pull back, though.
Instead, he closed the distance between you, his breath mingling with yours.
The moment stretched, and you could feel even more intensely the heat radiating from him, the way his presence enveloped you.
Then, without a word, he closed the gap, capturing your lips with his.
It was soft at first, a gentle kiss that sent shockwaves through your body, igniting every nerve ending.
But as you leaned into him, it deepened, the kiss becoming more urgent, more passionate.
His hand found its way to your waist, pulling you onto his lap, as if he was trying to erase any space that remained between you.
You responded instinctively, wrapping your arms around his neck, and your legs straddling his sides, melting into him as the kiss intensified.
Your heart raced, the rhythm of your pulse echoing in your ears, drowning out the rest of the world.
His fingers traced the contours of your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
He broke the kiss, his gaze locked on yours briefly, his breathing heavy.
He cupped your face, pulling you back in for another kiss, more intense than the last.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,’’ he whispered, his voice thick with need.
You could feel the heat of his body, the evidence of his desire pressing against your core.
Geto’s fingers trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, and settled on your breasts, his thumb teasing your nipple through the fabric of your shirt.
He pulled back again, his eyes filled with hunger, a silent plea for the both of you to continue down this path.
“Geto,’’ you murmured, your voice a soft, breathy whisper.
You leaned into his touch, encouraging him to explore further.“I... I want you too.’’
You reached down, grasping his hand, and guided it under your shirt, feeling his fingers brush against your skin.
The sensation made you shiver with anticipation, the intimacy of the gesture stirring something deep within you.
The room swirled around you, the line between reality and fantasy blurring as you surrendered to the moment.
Geto’s lips found your neck, his teeth gently nipping at your skin, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body.
You responded swiftly, your hands finding their way to the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head.
His breath hitched as you pulled his shirt off, and he watched as your eyes roamed over his body, taking in every line, every curve, every tattoo.
He felt a sense of pride, of accomplishment, knowing that you found him desirable.
Leaning in, he captured your lips once more, his hands tracing the curves of your body.
He knew you were as affected as he was, that the connection between you was as electric for you as it was for him.
He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, his tongue tasting your skin.
He could feel your pulse quickening, your breath coming in short gasps, your body arching into his touch.
He smiled against your skin, a sense of satisfaction washing over him.
Geto’s hands explored your body, his fingers reaching the end of your shirt, tugging at the hem until it was bunched up around his hands.
He slid it over your head and his lips continued their journey, leaving a trail of kisses and nips along your collarbone, down to your breasts.
He took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, teasing it into a hard peak.
A moan escaped your lips, the sensation overwhelming.
He moved to the other side, repeating the process, his hands sliding up your thighs, until his fingers reached the limit of your shorts.
His lips crashed into yours once more, his tongue dancing with yours, your taste intoxicating.
He pulled back and laid you on your back, his eyes filled with hunger and desire as he hovered over you on the couch.
Geto’s hands found the waistband of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric and pulling it down, taking off your underwear with it, revealing your most intimate self to him.
He took a moment to appreciate the sight, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every curve, every line.
Geto felt a sense of awe, knowing that you had chosen to share this part of yourself with him.
He leaned down, his lips finding your inner thigh, his tongue tracing a path upwards.
He felt your muscles tensing, your body anticipating his touch.
He smiled against your skin, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place.
His tongue reached your wetness, his lips parting to taste you, to explore you.
Your breath hitched, your body arching into his touch.
Taking his time, he traced his tongue over every fold, every crease, his fingers joining in, stroking and teasing.
Your body began responding to his touch, your hips moving in rhythm with his tongue.
He looked up, his eyes locking onto yours, watching as you lost yourself in the moment.
The sight of you, so lost in pleasure, so vulnerable, was mesmerizing.
His tongue and fingers worked in perfect harmony, driving you closer and closer to the edge. He could feel your body trembling, the tension building within you.
As you neared your climax, he felt your muscles twitch, your body arching off the couch, your moans growing louder, more desperate.
He didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working in perfect sync.
And then, it happened.
Your body convulsed slightly, your soft moans turning into breathy whimpers as you reached that peak of pleasure.
Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you, leaving you breathless and spent.
He pulled back, his eyes filled with admiration and affection as he watched you recover from the intensity of your orgasm.
He wiped his mouth, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
Geto’s heart raced, his own arousal growing with each passing moment.
He could feel his own need growing, aching for release.
Looking at you, his eyes filled with desire, he stood up, unbuckling his belt and sliding down his pants.
His erection sprung free, evidence to his need.
He watched as your eyes locked onto it, your breath hitching in your throat.
He got on top of you, his erection pressing against your core.
“Geto…’’ you moaned, your voice breathy and needy. “Please…’’
You could feel the evidence of his desire pressing against you, hard and insistent.
You reached down, your fingers wrapping around his length.
He groaned at your touch, his hips slightly bucking against your hand.
He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire as he gazed down at you. “I want you so badly, baby. I need to be inside you.’’
You nod, your own need perfectly mirroring his.
He paused, taking a deep breath, savoring the moment before he entered you.
He leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his erection nudging against you.
Slowly, he pushed inside, his pace deliberate, allowing you both to adjust to the sensation. Your eyes widened, your body tensing as he filled you, your muscles stretching to accommodate him.
He watched your face, reading the emotion that flickered across it, a mixture of pleasure and discomfort.
As he sank deeper, your body relaxed, the discomfort fading, replaced by a growing sense of pleasure.
You could feel every inch of him, stretching you, filling you up like you had never experienced before.
He pulled back slightly, his gaze locked on yours, waiting for your cue.
You nodded, and he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, gradually building in speed and intensity.
His hands rested on your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples, adding another layer of sensation to the mix.
You responded to his touch, your hips moving in sync with his, your moans growing louder, more urgent.
“Fuck,’’ he exhaled, his voice shaky. “You feel incredible.’’
His hands began exploring your body, and you felt a rush of pleasure coursing through you.
Your skin tingled under his touch, every nerve ending lighting up with sensation.
He picked up the pace, his thrusts growing harder, deeper.
You moaned, your nails digging into his back, your hips rising to meet his.
The room filled up with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the rhythmic creaking of the sofa and your mingled moans and gasps.
Geto’s mouth found yours, his kisses hungry and demanding.
His tongue tangled with yours, tasting you, claiming you.
“You're so tight,’’ he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. “So perfect.“
One hand slid down your body, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in slow, firm circles, a gasp escaping your lips at the contact.
“You’re such a good girl, taking me so well.’’ His heart swelled with pride as he felt your body respond to his touch, your moans and gasps spurring him on.
His fingers on your clit sent shockwaves through you, your muscles clenching around his length.
You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
Your bodies moved in sync with your walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper.
“Don't stop, please don't stop,’’ you moaned, your voice high and needy.
“That's it, baby,’’ he groaned, his voice strained with exertion and lust. “Let go for me. I want to feel you come undone.’’
His fingers worked your clit with renewed vigor, his thumb circling the sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure to send waves of ecstasy coursing through your body.
He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth.
He swallowed your moans, basking in the sounds of your pleasure, the proof of his effect on you.
His hips pounded into you, the wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours echoing through the room mixing up with your moans and cries.
The sensation of his hard length filling you, stretching you, combined with the delicious friction of his fingers on your clit, pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
Your muscles began to tense, your body quivering slightly.
“I'm close,’’ you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders, your body arching off the couch. “So close, Geto. Please, I need…’’
He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, more erratic.
He felt your body tensing, your walls fluttering around him, and he knew you were on the verge of climax.
“Come for me, baby, there you go,’’ he breathed out, his free hand firmly gripping your hip.
His words, the intensity of his thrusts, the skilled touch of his fingers, it was all too much, the pressure inside you building to an almost unbearable level
With a cry of his name, you shattered, your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.
Your body trembled, your vision went blurry, your toes curled as the pleasure consumed you.
Your senses were completely overwhelmed by the intensity of your release.
Feeling your walls clenching around him, the rhythmic contractions surrounding him, urged him towards his own release.
He continued to thrust into you, his pace unrelenting, his movements growing more and more desperate as he chased his own climax.
“Fuck, I'm... I'm going to..." he moaned, his voice strained, his forehead pressed against yours.
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin, his teeth grazing it.
Geto’s body tensed, his muscles straining as he neared his own peak.
His thrusts become urgent, losing their rhythm as the pleasure overwhelmed him.
His pacing was cut off by a shaky whimper as his climax hit him like a freight train.
His hips jerked, his length pulsing inside you as he filled you up with his seed.
His body shuddered, his muscles trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over him.
He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the couch, his breathing ragged, as he tried to recover.
He lifted his head, his eyes finding yours, his gaze intense, filled with a mix of satisfaction and adoration.
He smiled, a slow lazy curl of his lips, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“I've wanted that for so long,’’ he confessed, his voice soft, vulnerable.“Wanted you.’’
He rolled onto his side, pulling you with him, your back pressing against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close.
He nuzzled into your hair, breathing in your scent, committing it to memory.
“Can we stay like this for a little?’’ he asked, his voice hopeful. “I don't want to let you go just yet.’’
You felt the warmth of his body enveloping you, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back calming your thoughts.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” you replied softly, leaning back against him, allowing yourself to sink deeper into the comfort of his embrace.
The world outside the dressing room faded away once more, leaving just the two of you in your own bubble. “I could stay like this forever,” you murmured, the tension from earlier long gone, morphed into a comfortable intimacy.
Geto chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. “Yeah? Just you and me in a tiny room, hiding from the world?” There was a teasing tone in his voice, but you could sense the sincerity behind it.
“Sounds perfect to me,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face.
He tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you even closer.. “You know,” he began, his tone shifting to something more serious, “I really didn’t expect tonight to go like this.”
You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of his expression.
There was a seriousness to his tone that made your heart flutter. “Yeah? How did you expect it to go?”
He hesitated for a moment, the air between you thickening. “I thought I’d just perform, introduce you to the guys and then... you know, go home. But then I saw the way you were looking at me in that crowd and everything changed.”
You felt your cheeks heat at his admission. “Really? I didn’t think I’d make that much of a difference.”
He chuckled again, but this time it held a hint of vulnerability. “You have no idea. It didn’t feel like I was playing for a crowd. It felt like I was playing just for you.”
His words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket.
You took a breath, feeling a mix of emotions.
Excitement, nervousness, and anxiety all at the same time.
“Geto,” you started, wanting to say something meaningful, but the way he held you made it hard to think straight.
He turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours. “I know this is all new and kind of overwhelming, but I want you to know that... I’m really glad you’re here.”
You nodded, your heart racing as you looked into his deep, dark eyes. “Me too,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the moment.
He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours, and for a heartbeat, everything felt perfectly aligned. “I don’t want this to be just a moment. ” he spoke, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.
The space between your lips closed in an instant, and you felt the spark of connection ignite again as your mouths met.
Time seemed to stand still as you melted against him, the outside world forgotten.
In that small, intimate dressing room, nothing else mattered.
Just you, Geto, and the growing connection that pulled you closer together.
368 notes · View notes
na0koz · 2 months ago
Note
Love your toxic/stalker Jinx but like.. what would happen if she got caught? By anyone (Like Vi, Vander, etc) but also/or reader
toxic!jinx masterlist
now i think vi has always known in the back of her mind that maybe jinx loves you a bit too much. but at the same time she didn’t really register all the photos of you on her wall, your name paired with hers written on every surface even her skin, the amount of time she spends out of the house since meeting you.
like vi knows about you, you’re the only thing jinx talks about. she knows jinx, and knows very well that she’s obsessive but she’s never been obsessed to this extent. it concerns vi slightly so she decides to take a look in jinx’s room.
the photos are obvious, they’re literally plastered over her walls. she then notices a corner with a pile of stuff in it, above it is your name in a heart carved into the wall. vi carefully starts to pick apart the pile, finding the nail polish jinx stole from you, the clothes, everything else she pinched from your apartment.
this freaks vi out slightly so she keeps looking around. on her bedside table there is the piece of metal that jinx fashioned a key to unlock your apartment with. the distinct key-shaped cutout, paired with an open notebook listing everywhere you’ve been and everyone you’ve spoken to basically every day in the last 6 months that tells vi everything she needs to know.
when jinx comes home that day, vi is sitting on the couch. unusual for her, she’s generally in her room blasting rock music and wallowing in her sadness over some blue-haired girl. jinx stands opposite the couch, wondering what the look on vi’s face is for.
“are you stalking that girl you’re always talking about?”
jinx freezes. she has no idea what to say.
vi sighs. “you can’t do that, jinx. besides, aren’t you dating?”
jinx looks at the carpet under her feet. “no… i haven’t.. asked her,” she whispers. she cannot believe that she’s been caught. is vi gonna force her to leave you alone? she can’t deal with that, and jinx starts to panic.
vi is close to anger now, “are you kidding? what the hell is wrong with you?! does she know?”
“of course she doesn’t know.”
they argue back and forth for a bit, mainly vi yelling at jinx and jinx cautiously whispering a response, as if you were on the other side of the door listening.
after that, jinx stays in her room for a couple of days with the door locked. every time vi comes knocking, she either stays silent or starts screaming at her to fuck off. her phone is dead and she has no plans of charging it, despite the fact she knows you’ve probably texted and called her multiple times.
instead, she just stares at the photos she has of you, from before the two of you met.
to be honest though, she just goes back to her usual acts after she gets over herself.
-
if reader found out on the other hand, i had to think pretty hard about what would happen.
i don’t think reader would fully find out what she was doing, but just something surface level. like not the full extremes of jinx’s obsession.
one day, you and jinx had a sleepover and it was the next morning. jinx was laying on your stomach fiddling with the waistband of your shorts when you ask her the question she has dreaded for months.
“have you been following me?”
her hands freeze, eyes widened staring ahead of her. she breathes out a laugh.
“what?”
“have you been following me around?”
“n-.. no? what do you mean?” her voice trembles slightly. she was so fucked.
“i keep seeing you in random places at the same time i’m there,” you talk with an unwavering tone. you need her to know you’re serious about this.
“that’s not me. it could just be someone else with blue hair? i’m not the only person in the world with it,” jinx feigns a small laugh. she’s not sure why.
“no, it’s definitely you jinx. i see your face every time, just watching me from a distance.”
she curls herself into an even tighter ball on your bed. she has literally no idea what to do in the situation.
you stare at her for a bit, noticing her trembling fingers still holding the hem of your pyjamas. you decide you should try and get her to talk, to explain herself.
“i’m not gonna be mad. i just need you to tell me if you have been following me or not.” you’re 98% sure she has been, but maybe it was a coincidence, like the couple of times when you ran into her in public.
more silence follows. a few minutes later, she finally speaks up.
“maybe i have a few times. i just.. worry about you. it’s only ‘cus i love you. i’m just checking you’re okay.” she honestly sounds like she’s about to burst into tears.
“you can just text me and ask how i’m doing, jinx.”
you feel a tear wet your pyjama shirt. this is is honestly not how you thought she’d take it.
“no.. no you don’t get it. i have to see that you’re okay with my own eyes.”
the two of you go back and forth for a while, jinx trying to justify her actions and you shutting her down every time. her arguments have a lot of holes in them.
after a brief pause, you try to reach a conclusion.
“can you just stop following me around, then? it’s scary.”
scary. there is nothing jinx hates more than the idea of you being scared of her.
“i’ll stop,” she breathes. maybe she will for a bit but.. she’ll find a way to keep doing it.
“okay. thank you,” you reply with a sigh, placing your hand on her back to try and comfort her. she had created a significant wet patch on your shirt now, from the involuntary tears falling while she refused to get up from her spot on your stomach.
“i’m sorry i’m so sorry i’m so sorry. i love you,” jinx chants.
you tell her it’s fine.
you’re stuck with her.
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hoonieyun · 3 months ago
Text
now playing...
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after midnight - chappell roan
pairing: singer/producer lee heeseung x singer reader "y/n" x singer sim jaeyun
warnings: profanity, suggestive, kissing, heeseung is thirsty, overall 18+ - also this is partially written so please make sure to read the written part so it all makes sense
wc: 954
ignore the time stamps and any possible typos lol
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heeseung approaches y/n as she’s mingling with jake and his friends. her smile fading after he taps her shoulder and he comes into view. “can i steal her for a bit?” heeseung asks jake as if jake was the person in charge of you. a recurring behavior heeseung where he felt the need to always show ownership and possession of you when you were dating, rarely ever considering how you felt or how it would affect you. 
jake shakes his head and lets you go with heeseung even if you don't want to. heeseung grabs your wrist after failing to hold your hand, dragging you to a part of the venue where you weren’t necessarily seen by a lot of people. “what do you want heeseung? i’m trying to enjoy the party…” you say with a sigh and he tries to reel you in by showing you his big doe eyes and even though it slightly made your heart flutter, you chose to stand on business. 
“look, i know i fucked up but just give me one more chance to treat you right.” heeseung says but slows down as the sentence progresses when you just so happen to say the same exact things as him. this was the sentence he had pulled on you in the past and quite frankly, it worked a few times but not this time. 
“you didn’t even wanna try a new script to get me back?” you ask coldly and heeseung drops his face like he has been caught. “okay, i just don’t know what to say. i miss you and i know i was a fucking ass but i just can’t stand being without you.” heeseung says and you just watch him, waiting because you know he was eventually going to tell on himself. he had that habit, when heeseung was drunk and he began to ramble at you, if you just stared at him his silent pauses would be filled with more rambling because he wanted to avoid the awkward silence. so he’d fill it with more talking and eventually confess something he didn’t mean to.
“and i don’t know. that sond i made was mean i admit that but did you have to do a collab with jake of all people? you know how much i liked his music and it felt like a low blow.” there it is…
“ha! i knew it! you’re jealous, i can’t believe this is what this is actually about. do you even want me back or are you just threatened with the idea that someone else wants me and that i’m no longer yours?” you ask, anger in your voice and heeseung doesn’t know what to say. 
“heeseung, i mean this in the nicest way possible, leave me alone.” you say and although heeseung was expecting something a bit harsher, your tired demeanor and offset to his advances hurt more than your words. 
you walk away before heeseung could say another but you don’t rejoin jake and his friends, choosing to find a spot you could be alone for a few minutes. 
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you turn around to hide yourself from jake as he approaches, half embarrassed that he has to see you like this and the other feeling guilty as you’re bringing down the vibe of his own party. 
“you okay, pretty?” jake asks as he pushes open the door to the balcony. the cold air whipping past him as he takes the spot next to you. clearing your throat, “yeah, i’m okay. sorry i don’t wanna be a downer on your birthday.” you say, trying to avoid eye contact but jake softly grabs your chin to make eye contact with you. 
“can i be honest..? i wasn’t really feeling the party either.” jake says with a chuckle and he gets a laugh out of you at the same time, smiling even bigger when he hears your laugh that he finds so pretty. 
“wanna get out of here?” he asks and as much as you wanted to, you felt bad. “jake, this is your party, you should be here.” you say to him and jake just rolls his eyes with a pout. “nah, everyone in there is probably too drunk to even notice.” he reassures you and for a moment you’re just looking at each other. jake’s eyes are fishing for the small glint in your eyes that tells him you want this as much as he does, and indeed you do. 
you take his hand in yours and drag him back inside, past the party, and into the elevator. “where you taking me, huh?” jake says, teasingly and you roll your eyes at him playfully as you drag jake to your car. 
the drive back to your place is filled with laughter and singing random songs with jake. he couldn’t believe this was finally, his crush on you was finally progressing to something more. his eyes widened at the sight of your apartment, a high rise but humble home that screamed your style. cute figures and stuffed animals scattered throughout the home and empty cans of energy drinks on your kitchen counter. 
jake is taken out of his thoughts when you slam the door behind him and you grab him by the collar. “do you think i’m pretty?” you ask even though you already know that answer to it. jake nods, desperation in his eyes as he looks down at your lips. 
“do you wanna kiss me, jakey?” you ask and he nods eagerly, answering faster than the first time. you don’t even get a chance to lean closer to jake before he crashes his lips onto yours. a moment he had been waiting for. 
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hoonieyun notes: trouble in paradise for heeseung means smooth sailing for jake! what do we think jake and yn are going to do once they get to yn's place? do a puzzle? coloring book? bake cookies?
also please answer the little poll, the result doesn't affect the story but i'd love to see yalls input
copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved
all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.
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cutesyaddy · 19 days ago
Text
From Foes to Forever (part one)
min ho moon x reader
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a/n: i’m a very inexperienced writer so please bare with me 😭 
warnings: characters may be ooc (my bad gang 🌝) and im not that great with grammar but i try 🥲
-anything spoke in korean will be written like this, but so will any words being dragged out so i’m just gonna have to hope you’re smart enough to know the difference.
-anything written in bold is gonna be song lyrics
-‘example’ means it’s being thought, while “example” means its being said aloud.
summary: reader meets some of the main characters and makes some impressions. (idk guys just read 😭🙏)
————————————————————
Music blares through my headphones as I was discreetly bobbing my head to my favourite song right now, Lovers by Anna of the North (guys, this is a CLASSIC banger go check it out).
While anticipating the BEST part of the song, my eyes trailed up to a handsome—and I mean really handsome—guy walking towards whatever was behind me.
For a moment, my breath hitched, and I couldn’t help but stare at him while he moved, his stride dripping with confidence. He walked like he had a big ego.
I could swear he started to walk in slow motion when the beat finally dropped.
now i’m in the dark
show a little loving
His sharp features were captivating; I genuinely couldn’t pull my eyes away from him.
shine a little light on me
show a little loving
His eyes met mine for what was probably only like 2 milliseconds, but in that short time, his gaze sent a shock throughout my body.
I was pulled out of my trance when the boy bumped into the arm of a pretty girl sitting beside me.
I pulled off my headphones and let them sit comfortably around my neck as I watched these strangers converse.
I was a sucker for things like this. He was super hot, and she was gorgeous. He bumped into her, and now they’re going to have a little meet-cute and start their love story.
“Excuse me,” she grunted, craning her neck to look back at him. He stopped and turned towards her.
“Wait,” she started; I think she noticed something on his bag. My eyes followed her own, and they landed on a KISS keychain.
“Do you go to KISS? I’m going to KISS." Oh my gosh, it’s happening; they go to the same school! Coincidentally, so do I, but this isn’t about me.
He paused for a second. “no Englishshi” Oh, I guess not then. Before the girl could say anything else, I interrupted,
“Do you speak Korean?” they both spun their heads in my direction. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything; now they know I was listening.
“I think you should apologise man; that was pretty rude.” his position remained unchanged. “What's rude is you not minding your own business. Ugh, I don’t have time for you people."
‘Yet you had enough time to be walking so slowly?’ No, I shouldn’t say that; he’s totally right; I shouldn’t have gotten involved. Not everything is a kdrama.
I defeatedly watched as he took long strides in the opposite direction. “Hey, thanks for defending me, or what I think was defending me? I’m not sure; I don’t understand a word of Korean, haha! Anyway, my name is Kitty Song Covey! It's nice to meet you!”
‘Oh my gosh, what an earful.’ “Don't worry about it! I was just telling him he should apologise; I don't think he took it very well, though.” She stared at me expectingly.
“Oh! Sorry, my name is (y/n) (l/n). It’s nice to meet you, Kitty.” I held out my hand for her to shake out of pure instinct, but I instantly regretted it as it was such an old-fashioned greeting.
Without a beat, she took my hand anyway, which brought a smile to my face. “I couldn’t help but hear you are attending KISS?”
Kitty nodded her head vigorously. “YES! I’m super duper excited to be reunited with my boyfriend, who also attends KISS! He’s one of the reasons I decided to enroll!”
I blinked. “Are you travelling all this way and studying abroad for a boy?” Ok, I misread the situation earlier; maybe this was like a kdrama, just not the one I was originally expecting.
“No, of course not! It’s not all because of him. KISS was the school my mother attended when she was my age. I’m travelling to Korea to learn more about her.
“Oh, so you’re from Korea?” I was pleasantly surprised. “Yes! I’m half Korean.”
————
Lucky me! I made it just in time for the bus that's heading straight for KISS. Jeez, I feel a little bad for the students that didn’t get here in time; I would get lost trying to locate the school in this massive city.
My headphones were at home, snug around my ears, as they played my favourite tunes. Music was the only thing fun about going on drives.
I grinned to myself like a weirdo when my favourite—dare I say the BEST song of all time—played through my headphones for the hundredth time.
you told me i would never see you
walk away
With the familiar melody filling my ears while I stared out of the bus window, my mind wandered back to that boy from earlier.
said you’d never break my heart
never leave me in the dark
He sure was cute; I mean, he was sorta mean, but I'm kinda into it. What can I say? I'm a sucker for a good old enemies-to-lovers story.
i guess there’s just some promises
you shouldn’t make
I’m a sucker for all things romance, matter of fact. Ironically, though, I’ve never been in a relationship. I’m more of a third wheel, the audience, the viewer, the reader.
should’ve know from the start
now i’m in the dark
thoughts full of this nameless douche from the airport, I began to drift off, head bumping against the glass of the bus window.
SORRY IT WAS SO SHORT BUT I HOPE YOU LIKED IT
PART TWO HERE
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parkerflix · 2 years ago
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—love countdown
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min ho x gn!reader
genre: the lightest angst, fluff
wc: 2.2k
synopsis: minho’s party brought to light a few things.
a/n: thank you for all the love on part 1 ! As of right now there are no plans for a part 3 but if something comes to me it’s possible!
The days after the interaction with Minho, you avoided him at all costs. You still hung out around their dorm, but always checked with someone if he was there. Both you and Kitty had an eventful chuseok and were always asking for advice and to rant to Q.
Today was the same as the other days, you invited your brother and kitty out for coffee.
“Kitty, I love you but can we please talk about something else?” Q said, sipping on his coffee. She let out a huff and turned to you.
“So, what’s going on between you & Minho?” she said slyly, giving you a knowing glance.
“There is nothing going on between me and him. I’d prefer to not talk about it.”
Both Q and Kitty could immediately tell that something had happened, but you were too stubborn to say anything.
Feeling the air grow stale, Q brought up something he had hoped would lift your spirits.
“Have you guys decided what you’re wearing to Minho’s party?”
You glared at him, he was so oblivious sometimes.
“No, I’m not going.”
“Me either, he hates me plus Dae’s going to be there.”
Q sighed.
“Come on, you really wanna spend a Friday night inside?”
You and Kitty glanced at each other before nodding your heads.
“I think it’s a perfect day for a movie night don’t you think Kitty?”
“Why you’re absolutely correct, Yn! We should look at our watchlists and make a spinner for it!”
“That sounds like a great idea!”
Q just watched the two of you act this out, half amused.
“Are you guys really going to let Minho, Dae & Yuri ruin your fun?”
“It’s Minho’s party, he probably doesn’t even want me there.”
“You never know if you don’t go. Please?” Q held your hand and you rolled your eyes.
You hated when he acted all cute, he knew that you’d eventually cave and say yes.
“Fine. But only if you help me look for an outfit.”
“Deal. I’ll text Florian to come with us. Kitty?”
Kitty smiled at the two of you, a look of determination crossing her features.
“I’m going too. I’ll prove to Dae I’m over him!”
Both you and Q stared at each other, knowing that was far from Kitty’s truth.
Minho’s date with Lulu had gone just okay. She was great, but his mind seemed to be somewhere else the entire night. He couldn’t get it out of his mind the way you stared at him, and the way he almost kissed you.
If you guys had kissed how would you have reacted? He wasn’t sure if you even remotely felt how he did. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how he felt about you. He had always just seen you as annoying, but deep down he knew he saw other things in you. It frustrated the hell out of him feeling this way, and with you acting all strange afterwards, it made him more frustrated.
He had thrown himself into the planning of the party, not even knowing if you had decided to go.
He had gone to Q, pretty much asking him in a roundabout way if you were going with him.
Q had just said some skeptical things, and didn’t clarify anything for Minho. He sighed, and shook his head, trying to figure out the last finishing touches of his outfit.
The music was blaring from the speakers and you were already regretting this. Out of the two of you, Q seemed to be the more extroverted one. You enjoyed going out from time to time, but you also loved your space. The music was so loud that you could hear it from outside. The bouncer was letting everyone in from a list, and you weren’t even sure if you were on there.
Did Minho even want you at his party?
You and Kitty finally made your way inside, looking for Q and Florian. Kitty looked stunning, and she really seemed to glow with confidence. You felt comfortable in your outfit, having had Florian and Q have the last say so.
Your shoes were slightly uncomfortable, since they were brand new. You cursed yourself for choosing the new ones instead of your trusty going out shoes, but everyone argued that they matched better.
Minho was sitting with Dae at the bar, happy his friend showed up. They were chatting away, when he saw two people pass by him, both standing out. He excused himself from Dae & walked in their direction, stopping in his tracks when it saw it was Kitty and you.
Kitty looked great and he was surprised she could clean up nicely, but you. You made him speechless. You looked amazing, and also so relaxed. He saw you laugh at something Kitty had said, and he saw the way your eyes lit up when Q found you both.
He wanted to go up and sweep you away from everyone, to tell you how great you looked and how happy he was that you were there.
You had been eyeing the entire club, finally making eye contact with Minho.
Both of you felt as if time stopped for a moment, just the two of you staring at each other, a sense of yearning in the air. You quickly looked away, a faint heat felt on your cheeks.
You reached up and touched your cheek, catching the attention of Florian. He smirked at you, knowing that if he looked in the direction you were staring at a few seconds ago, he would see Minho.
Florian and Q escorted the two of you to the bar, getting you both mocktails. You knew underage drinking was frowned upon heavily in Korea, but had done it in the comfort of your dorm before.
Kitty thought that your drinks had alcohol, slightly surprised when Q told her that they were alcohol-free. Florian quickly remedied that, pulling a flask out and pouring some clear alcohol in all of your drinks.
You all clinked your glasses together, your heart feeling lighter with the presence of the people around you.
An hour had gone by, and you had lost track of where Kitty had gone. She could very obviously not hold her liquor, and at this moment neither could you. You found yourself in the lounge, your eyes focused on your cosmopolitan.
You knew you were possibly drunk, but you didn’t really care. The past hour was pretty much spent babysitting Kitty, making sure that she stayed away from Dae, who much to your surprise showed up. You knew this wasn’t his scene, and when you saw Yuri in the crowd dancing with her friends, put two and two together. They came on a “date”, but at least seemed to be having fun together.
Q and Florian had snuck away somewhere wanting some alone time. The very thought of your brother having alone time with his boyfriend made you wanna gag. They were super cute together, and you really were happy that he was happy. You couldn’t help but be jealous, you wanted that.
You sighed, not noticing someone sat next to you.
“Tired?”
You turned to the owner of the voice, seeing one of your classmates sitting next to you.
Jace was an expat like you, coming from England. He was a year older than you, but shared the same chemistry class with you. He was Alex’s TA, and you would strike up conversations with him about topics whenever he looked super bored.
You smiled at him, nodding.
“Tired. Don’t you just hate it when you’re the only one who’s like, alone? alone… a, lone… that’s a funny word.”
Jace had an amused look on his face, letting out a laugh. It was so obvious you were tipsy, the slight slurring of your words making him laugh.
“I do hate it sometimes, but sometimes you just gotta think there’s someone out there for you.”
You leaned in close to his face, evidently unaware of all the personal space bubble rules you were breaking.
“Do you think there’s someone out there for me?”
Jace’s eyes scanned your face trying to figure out what he should say.
“I think so.”
You hummed, nodding your head. You pulled back from his personal space, content with his answer.
Jace held your hand that was next to his, intertwining your fingers together.
“Has anyone told you that you look stunning tonight?”
You gave him a lopsided grin.
“Only tonight? You don’t think I look stunning in our very attractive uniforms?”
He laughed, and shook his head.
“You look good everyday.”
“You’re such a charmer.”
“Is there anything wrong in me telling the person I like that they’re attractive?”
You felt your heart stop for a moment, at his very sudden confession.
“Jace, I didn’t know-“
He smiled at you, gently squeezing your hand.
“I didn’t expect you to. Plus I figured I didn’t have a chance with Minho interested in you as well.”
Minho. You had tried so hard not to think about him all day, and the mention of his name made your stomach turn.
“Minho does not like me, and there’s nothing going on between us.”
That last part of the sentence made your heart ache, but you were too far gone to want to notice it. Minho was someone who you wanted, but didn’t want you. As much as that hurt, you had someone in front of you who did like you.
Jace brushed some of your stray hairs behind your ear, and his hand hovered over your face.
“Would it be alright if I kissed you?”
“Okay.” you whispered to him.
You both inched closer, nearly kissing when a clearing of the throat made the two of you jump.
You both turned your heads and saw Minho standing there.
He had a very neutral look on his face, but his eyes were telling a different story.
“Oh hey, man. What’s up?” Jace said, the slight annoyance in his tone noticeable.
Minho had a tight lipped smile at the two of you.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to take Yn to their brother. It’s very urgent.”
You got up, albeit a bit wobbly, and gave Jace a sympathetic look.
“I’m sorry, maybe we’ll catch up later?”
“Yeah no worries, go see what happened. You know where to find me.”
Minho rolled his eyes, his jaw clenched.
You made your way over to him, and Minho took you by the hand and led you away.
It took you all of two seconds to realize Minho had lied to both you and Jace about Q needing you.
“Minho, where are we going?”
You were met with silence.
You both finally made it to a secluded area of the club, which you assumed was the VIP lounge.
Minho finally dropped your hand and ran his hand over his face. He stepped away from you, clearly trying to create some space between the two of you.
“Minho?”
He sighed and looked at you, clearly annoyed.
“What were you doing before I got there?”
“I was talking with Jace.”
He let out a humorless laugh.
“If that’s talking, I must be the president of Korea.”
You didn’t understand where this was coming from.
“What does it matter to you? My business is my business.”
“It matters.”
“You’re deflecting. What does it matter that I was talking with a guy?”
“Because.”
You were getting frustrated with him now, the alcohol in your system making it too difficult to have any sort of conversation without showing your true feelings.
“Minho, we’re talking in circles. My love life, my friendships don’t pertain to you. I can talk to whoever I want to talk to. Obviously since you can’t tell me why it matters to you then it doesn’t mean anything.”
You blinked and before you knew it, his arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest.
“Minho?”
He stared into your eyes, hesitant on what he would say.
“It matters because I like you.”
Before you could say anything, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss onto your lips.
When he broke apart from you, he rested his forehead on yours.
“Who you talk to matters to me, because I like you.”
“Minho… I like you too.”
He smiled and kissed you again, making your heart swell with happiness. He peppered your face with kisses, and you laughed, not ever having seen this softer side of him.
Some time had passed, you both migrated to the couch.
“So.”
“So what?”
“Can I take you on a date?”
You nodded and kissed his cheek.
“I’d like that very much.”
The music outside of the room stopped, and the both of you looked at each other confused. You checked your phone, and saw that Q had texted you that Professor Lee and Principal Han had found out about the party and were currently breaking up the party.
You quickly got up and grabbed Minho’s hand, sprinting to the doors, as quick as you could.
A bunch of your classmates were also running, and Minho caught on pretty quickly to what was happening. You both ran out of the club, making it a few blocks away from it until you both ran out of breath.
You guys had made it to a nearby night market, and you texted Q that you were alright.
Minho grabbed your phone out of your hands, and put it in his suit pocket.
You looked at him confused and he just smiled at you.
“So, how about that date?”
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goodlucktai · 6 months ago
Note
13 with sunset duo :)))
dialogue prompts
13. “I would believe that you’re fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so.”
x
Raph probably would have been successful in sneaking to his room if Mikey hadn’t decided to swing by the kitchen for a snack refill. When he flicks the light on, his biggest brother freezes mid-step cartoonishly and they both just stare at each other, one caught, the other confused. 
“Uh, hi,” Mikey says. “Is your Goon Gala with Casey over already?”
It’s what the former Foot recruit calls it when she and Raph get together to be rowdy and reckless and somewhat violent but like recreationally. Full throttle vigilantism. Mikey tagged along once and was so exhausted by the end of the night he had to be carried home—allegedly!!
The twins quietly disapprove, but they haven’t ratted Raph out to pops yet. They probably think the same thing Mikey does; that it’s good that Raph has something that’s his. It would be better if it was something safer, shared with someone slightly less likely to commit felonies for fun, but it’s a start. 
“Uh, yep,” Raph says awkwardly, standing kind of sideways. “Raph’s actually pretty wiped, I was gonna—”
Mikey’s eye for color pings. That’s the only explanation for why his subconscious was like hey something’s wrong about this picture and his gaze flicks down to follow the thought. 
It lands on the hilt of a knife sticking out of the thigh Raph is trying to keep out of view. Deep red drips down his knee.
Mikey drops the empty popcorn bowl, stray unpopped kernels scattering across the floor. 
“Hey, hey, no, it’s okay,” his brother says quickly, heading off the very loud reaction he can sense building up between them like an active geyser. “Shh, Mike, come on. I’m fine.”
It would work a lot better if one of the two hands he held up to shush him wasn’t bloody. Mikey’s panic wracked up another three levels automatically. 
“I would believe that you’re fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so–”
“Language,” Raph scolds by rote.
“Don’t language me!!” Mikey says shrilly. “What happened? No, don’t answer that. I know what happened, you got stabbed. You should be in the infirmary already! You go, and I’ll get—”
“No!” Mikey is grabbed by the shoulders, actually lifted off the floor so he and his brother are eye-to-eye the way Raphie has a bad habit of doing when tensions are high as Raph goes on, “Leo doesn’t need to know. I’ll take care of it.”
Mikey blinks, processing that. It takes a minute, because it might be the stupidest thing this particular brother has ever said directly to his face. And then he scowls. 
When he bellows, “LEO!” it’s in that particular baby brother voice that gets every older sibling in a mile radius moving with gusto. If Donnie weren’t at April’s for the night he would have removed the kitchen wall to get there two seconds faster. 
As it is, Leo tumbles into the room wild-eyed, probably wondering what the hell could have happened in the three minutes between Mikey asking him to pause the movie and this targeted attack on every protective instinct in Leo’s body. 
It takes him a second to clock that Mikey is present and correct and just sort of dangling in Raph’s hands still. Then he leans against the doorframe, playing it cool. What a nerd. 
“Guess this is where the party’s at,” he says, doing that thing where he manages to look at Raph without looking at him. “So what’s the cover fee? Any live music?” 
He probably would have kept going, but he’s processing the scene with sharp eyes, and that’s about when he connects the blood on Raph’s hand to the blood on his leg. Every single ounce of disingenuous charm and cheer evaporates from him instantly. His smile drops like a ton of bricks. 
“What the fuck, Raph?” Leo says in a tone Mikey doesn’t know if he’s ever heard from him before. “Is that a knife? Casey let you get fucking stabbed?”
He moves while he’s talking, so fast that Mikey isn’t a hundred percent sure he didn’t actually teleport. He has the daisy-printed dish towel formerly hanging on the oven door in his hands and he’s kneeling at Raph’s side, wrapping it around his thigh and pressing down hard. 
“Jesus, language,” Raph says, lowering Mikey to the ground before taking a resigned seat in one of the kitchen chairs. “Casey didn’t let me do anything. I’m fine, I’m handling it. You should see the other guy.” 
“You’re—you’re handling it,” Leo parrots blankly, as if those words in that order don’t make any sense to him at all. “I should see the other guy. Is this a joke to you?”
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.” Raphael’s annoyance makes sense, since Leo has adamantly refused to take anything seriously since he was given the leader badge to wear. If Leo slacked off before, he is pointedly doing the absolute bare minimum now. 
He’s obviously trying to prove something to someone. Donnie just sighs when Mikey brings it up which means that he’s right but also that Donald isn’t going to break the disaster twins’ honor code by admitting out loud that he’s right. 
“This isn’t about missing training,” Leo grits out, really, properly angry. “This is about you sneaking around with a knife sticking out of your leg and scaring Angie and letting me find out by accident instead of—I dunno—calling the second it happened? Were you just going to go yank this out of your leg in the shower and put a bandaid on it?”
Raphie is in pain, and his temper has been poked, so he replies, “For the past month you’ve been acting like nothing matters to you anymore! You’ve wanted nothing to do with me, you don’t want my advice, you don’t want my job—the job that’s always been mine, that pops took from me and just handed to you. So where’s the line drawn? For all I knew, you wouldn’t want to help with this, either.”
If Raph had slapped him, the look on Leo’s face probably would have been exactly the same as it is right now. He’s kneeling there on the floor and there’s blood staining his fingers and the big brother he adores so much is telling him right to his face that he thought Leo would have rather just let him bleed than help. And Leo let him think it this whole time, all because he had a point to prove.
Mikey folds his arms tight, tucking his hands away so no one sees if they start shaking. There’s a saying April quoted last week when she was working on a paper for her Introduction to Literary Journalism class, can’t see the forest for the trees. Mikey didn’t get it then, but it makes an unfortunate amount of sense now.
He knows better than anybody how much his brothers love each other. He doesn’t understand how they could be so blind to what’s right in front of them. 
Raph is the kindest person in Mikey’s whole life and can always tell when a hit has landed too close to heart. Some of the anger coiled up inside him like an animal has no choice but to relax its jaw. 
“I don’t know what’s going on in your head,” he admits. “I don’t know what you want from me.” 
“I want you to stop,” Leo says. It’s not a shout, but it’s loud, bouncing off all the polished surfaces until it fills the whole room. “Stop believing in me. Stop acting like I could ever be half the leader you were. Stop—stop getting hurt and acting like it doesn’t matter. What would we do without you?” 
What will I do without you, he doesn’t say, when you’re not there for me to follow anymore?
Raph’s eyes are huge in his face, and he lifts his hands in an automatic response to a little brother hurting within arms reach, but Leo ties the dish towel and steps back. He’s doing the not-looking-while-looking trick again. 
“Bleeding’s slowed. Let’s get you to the infirmary, big guy. Angie, Dad and Dee aren’t home so I may need your hands, okay?”
Leo always trusts Mikey to be able to help. It makes him feel three feet taller. 
“You got it!” he says, hoping one of them remembers to clean up the kitchen before Splinter gets home and wanders into a crime scene. 
When he heaves himself off the chair, Raph staggers a bit. Both his little brothers flock to either side of him instantly, and he says, “Raph’s just a little dizzy, that’s all. Let me lean on you guys for a bit.”
“Of course, Raphie,” Mikey says, willing to carry him if that’s what it takes. 
“We gotcha,” Leo adds, every other thing he must be feeling back to being a well-kept secret behind every layer of armor he owns. 
Raph puts his arms around them both and holds them close for the walk down the hall. He said he was dizzy, but his steps are steady. Everything about him is as steady as it’s always been. Mikey thinks he’s pretty good at sniffing out a scheme, but if he points out that Raph was only angling for a hug, then Leo’s going to run away like a feral cat who can’t tell the difference between affection and an attack.  
So Mikey doesn’t say anything, and squeezes closer beneath the arm Raph has around him—smiling to himself when Leo squeezes closer, too.
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iloveriddles · 6 months ago
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Imaginal Disk Storyline + Lore.
Okay, this is all opinion and my theories.
From What I can tell, “Imaginal Disk” is about two people: our protagonist, True, and a sub-protagonist of sorts, Ghost.
True lives in a house away from town. All she can do in her house is watch TV and journal.
True hates herself, and has never felt loved, or really sees love anywhere. She is very depressed. She can’t bear to look at herself in the mirror, even. She hates the way she looks, as we see on the mirror from imaginaldisk.world in True’s room. Her face is all distorted and swirled if you click it.
She never sleeps because she “spends her days chasing clouds and counting sheep, waiting for the night to creep”.
She does this because in the field outside her house, during night, a mirror appears and in it she sees a person who looks like her. This is Ghost. I am not sure if this happens every single night, or just some, but True seems dedicated to talking to Ghost at any chance she can take.
Ghost sleeps every night well and wakes up to be in the field, opposite to True. At her side of the mirror, it’s daytime.
I know their names because of the journals in True’s bedroom, where the lyrics for Fear, Sex are handwritten with the name “Ghost” at the top, and the lyrics for Killing Time are written on the first page with with the name “True”.
Ghost, to True, is beautiful in every way. She’s pretty, she’s perfect. She is loved and happy, and True isn’t. Ghost is the “Angel on a satellite”, I am 99% sure. True, from speculation, lives vicariously in a way through Ghost. She wishes she could be Ghost, and it kills her. There’s even symbolism here with Ghost’s lover in the Death & Romance video being made of light and featureless. It’s like exactly what True wants, to “be pined for” as she says in Killing Time (“I don’t care if I don’t sleep // but someone better pine for me”), but she can’t imagine by whom because she has no love interest. She just wants faceless love. She wants to feel like she matters in some way, like she is worthy of time. “There’s always time for killing, but never time for me. It only takes a minute”, she sings in Killing Time.
It’s so sad =( she’s right, though. That’s how it feels. People have time to waste and do nothing, but not time to help their close ones when they’re in a low place. It’s neither party’s fault, but still “True”.
True’s room is also the same layout as Ghost’s, but opposite. I think they are maybe versions of themselves from parallel universes or something like that. There is also implication that they start seeing through each other’s eyes in intervals, and we see this a little at the end of the Death & Romance video when she touches the Disk. I think their brains are connected in some way.
As mentioned, True hates herself and is miserable. I think this is why she gets the Imaginal Disk. We know she watches TV, so she probably saw the ad “True Blue Interlude” which is between Killing Time and Image. Image is her getting diskinserted and going to The Doctor. In the advertisement, it seems to be singing to her. It even says her name, “True”. It’s advertised as being a next stage and phase, it’s like the perfect form of escaping for True. She doesn’t want to be herself, she wants to be “Pure” and a “better her”. I also wonder if True Blue Interlude has hypnotic properties in canon, or anything like that. It’s interesting how this changes Image so much if you know the story. “I’m the best you’ve got, *true* or not?”
We are missing music videos so I am not certain about some stuff. They said on Instagram that they’re making one for Tunnel Vision, which I am 90% certain it will be another True song. True’s eyes do the weird blink thing in the Fear, Sex music video. Also, in “That’s My Floor” the camera zooms into her eyes and she LITERALLY has “Tunnel Vision”.
Also from the “That’s My Floor” music video, we know that after getting her disk True wears red like The Doctor instead of her blue, and starts assisting him in diskinserting. There is so much speculative stuff here right now. For example, I wonder if The Doctor is supposed to be True’s universe’s version of the glowing light guy that Ghost is with. I don’t know, but it changes the songs A LOT if you know that the lyrics are in character. Some songs are Ghost songs, and others are True songs.
In “That’s My Floor”’s music video she accidentally kills the people dancing with her indirectly because she gave them the disks (speculation) so she runs away. This lines up with “The Outskirts” from the website. It says to “walk down and atone for your sins”, also also that “the weight of your guilt should be slowing you down more than that”.
I think it’s about True’s guilt for all she’s done with the Imaginal Disk. When it zooms into her stomach camera? It shows what I think is the reality she actually wants. She wants to remove their disks; but she doesn’t. I also don’t know if Ghost is actually there, or if she’s hallucinating/imagining her to be.
“Love Is Everywhere”, is a Ghost song. She says to “look through the holes in the sky” to “find Love”. I also think Cry For Me might be a Ghost song, because she says “Think of Love and you’ll remember me”. I wonder if she’s going to be killed off or something. This would be foreshadowed by “DEATH and romance”. Maybe The solid light guy (whom I assume went into The Cocoon at The Outskirts) dies, so Ghost does too? Not sure. Speculation.
In Angel on a Satellite, a song I believe to be about Ghost, True sings “A thousand eyes turn to stone and monochrome // surprise, surprise // they turn to smile at the same time”
Followed by
“That’s why I don’t look up // That’s why I’m always dancing”
I think this is symbolism for her depression and inability to feel love.
The “eyes” can’t feel; they only watch. They symbolize people around her. They’re “stone” and “monochrome” because they are cold and reflective onto her, these represent people in her life that she can’t show her misery around. Like being depressed and having to hide it from your family, or friends that say “I’m always here to listen” but do not mean it in the slightest. She’s “always dancing” because she’s masking her loneliness and self-hate for those watching her.
True has never left love. We know she doesn’t truly. She sings about it multiple times. I think this part of She Looked Like Me! Is about Ghost
“Her hair lifted as she stood still
Right there in the light And she felt like a dream
I didn't know what to think
She looked like me
We stood mirrored 'til I leaned in And then you know what she did
She shot at me like an earthbound bullet
And then she wrapped her hands around my neck and I felt love
Just ordinary love
Let me hold you in my arms
Oh, love, that familiar old drug”
I don’t think Ghost literally strangled her, but instead it’s more poetic symbolism.
In Angel on a Satellite, True sings “I swear that through your eyes everything is brighter all the time // ‘cause when I see me through your eyes I love me, so don’t leave my side // you always see the sky, angel on a satellite”
Ghost “sees the sky” by seeing and feeling love. She literally “looks up”. She’s optimistic, True isn’t. She can’t look up.
Another little detail I’ve noticed is how in Love Is Everywhere, I presume Ghost sings “Look inside through the sky all around us” in the same melody that True sings “Angel on a satellite, glad you found us” in “Feeling Diskinserted?”
I think that the album will end with True going to the cocoon and becoming her ACTUAL “Purest self”. If you spell “Imaginal Disk” with a “c” instead of a “k” at the end, it’s literally a part of a pupa. The Imaginal disc turns into portions of a bug’s exoskeleton after it emerges from its metamorphosis. So, on a literal level, the real Imaginal disk that changes you was THE COCOON ALL ALONG. Maybe the Doctor is doing a shady internet scam trick where you change the URL by one letter and pass it off.
The detail here is so interesting. Even down to their names True is literally her True self. She can’t be anyone else. It’s reality. Ghost on the other hand is like the Ghost of everything True wants to be.
I also noticed: The Doctor’s laughter from Fear, Sex plays in the bridge of Cry For Me. I bet we will get a music video for it. I wonder what is happening with the Ghost and aliens storyline.
Anyways, I have so much to say about this. I have more even than this. We are missing music videos so I will be back. I also have to talk about the alien observation plot, but that needs more pondering.
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simp2537 · 1 year ago
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Hey there, I saw your requests were open and just wanted to ask if you’d be willing to do a yandere Percy Jackson x a male or gender neutral reader who happens to be an actor— I myself am male, but I also think it’s annoying to look for a fic about your favorite character, only to find out it’s written for the opposite gender. The reader can either be a demigod (probably a child of Apollo or Dionysus since those two are closely related to acting & whatnot) or just some mortal that can see through the mist like Rachel or something. Either way, would you mind writing about Percy seeing the reader & a co-Star share a stage/film kiss? It could even be Percy & Annabeth since both are pretty cool and I like them both as a couple; plus, poly yandere situations are fun. You can also decide whether or not the reader and Percy/Percy and Annabeth are dating or not; thanks for taking the time to read this, and have a great day :)
-🪑 (I am now chair anon)
Stage Lovers
A/n sorry if this isn’t what you wanted, I took a small guess in a few things. Not sure if everything I wrote was canon but whatever. I wasn’t sure if you meant the show of book so if the books image their older and the same goes for the show. Also I used the Little Shop of Horrors play in this. Hope you enjoy.
Warnings: Yandere behaviors, possessive behaviors, slightly(a bit more then slightly) himbo reader, mention of killing someone later.
Anon - 🪑
All Characters are aged up to 18 plus
Percabeth x Male! Reader
Camp half-blood was a buzz with people. Apollo’s cabin was preparing the annul musical/play to celebrate their father’s birthday. Percy and Annabeth hovered around the scene as they watched their boyfriend practice his lines with some daughter of Aphrodite. The girl was too close, too touchy, to smiley for the pairs taste. Their sweet and kind boyfriend Y/n just helped her with a smile in his face. Percy kept an arm around the visibly seething Annabeth as they watched. Everyone at camp knew that Y/n was there. They all got the message but this stupid girl.
Open distain was on Annabeth face as Y/n walked over to them. His script loosely in his hands and a bright smile. He’d been working for weeks on this play, but he wouldn’t say a word about it. Y/n being the sweet boyfriend he is, wanted his lovers to be surprised when they watched him.
Y/n kissed Annabeth’s forehead first, hoping to soothe the anger visible on her face, then he moved to Percy. When he pulled away Percy held his hand.
“Who was that?”
Y/n turned his head at Annabeth’s tone. It’s irritated and annoyed.
“Who?” Y/n questioned unsure. Percy traced the back of Y/n’s hand.
“The girl over there, you were reading with her a moment ago Sunni.” Y/n blushed at Percy’s nickname for him. Looking back quickly Y/n missed the look of hatred his partners gave the girl.
“Oh, Vanessa, she’s my stage partner for the play.” The pair stilted. His partner?
“What play are you doing again?” Annabeth pondered twisting a lock of her hair. Y/n’s face lit up and he chuckled softly. The pair basked in awe of his voice. They could listen to him all day.
“Little Shop of Horror… Wait! No! I’ve spoiled it now! It was meant to be a surprise!” Y/n groaned softly. Percy laughed at his silly little Sunni. Annabeth raised a brow intrigued.
“Who do you play?”
“I’m Seymour!”
“And she is?” A moment of silence filled the air after Annabeth’s words. Percy brought Y/n closer and sent him a look.
“Who is she?” Percy demanded not liking that Y/n wouldn’t answer.
“You can’t get mad.” They pair furrowed there brows.
“Why would we be mad lovely?” Annabeth muttered softly moving some of Y/n hair. Y/n didn’t meet either of his partners gazes.
“She’s Audrey.”
Silence echoes through there conversation. Y/n had shown his partners the movie of Little Shop of Horrors once. In that one time they knew who Audrey was. Y/n took a nervous gulp and his partners shared a look.
“Are you mad?”
“No, lovely we’re not mad.”
Y/n breathed out a sigh of relief. One of his other siblings motioned for him to go back. Y/n kissed his partner goodbye quickly and dashed back to the stage.
“I’ll grab her after the show.” Annabeth voiced softly.
“Why can’t we grab her now?” Percy snapped. No one other than them was going to touch Y/n. They could allow that.
“We’re nothing going to mess up Y/n’s play, he’s been working so hard. We’ll throw her in the lake afterwards, then celebrate with Y/n.”
With Annabeth’s words said the pair returned there gaze to Y/n who was singing with one of his siblings who was playing Audrey two.
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secretmellowblog · 1 year ago
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i just dont really understand why theyd target les mis? and like. its interrupting the work of actors and crew and house staff who dont have anything to do with fossil fuel corps. people who just paid to see the show who dont have anything to do with it.
i understand les mis is a show about rebellion and humanity but to me it doesnt make any sense.
( i say this as someone whos probably very unaware and very slow to realize the deeper meaning of things so i apologize if it comes off snobby i am just confused !! /genuine )
I'm very sorry if this comes off as rude but like.... "I don't understand why people would use Les Mis as the symbolic centerpiece of an act of protest/rebellion against the government" is just a very strange thing to say, and I'm genuinely not quite sure how to begin to respond XD. Like....it's literally Les Mis. It is Do You Hear the People Sing. The original novel was written to be a political rallying cry, it was written to bind together activists, and it has been used that way thousands of times since its publication in 1862. It's Les Mis, I don't know what else to tell you XD. Also I know this next comparison isn't perfect, but:
“I don’t understand why Les Amis interrupted Lamarque’s funeral.  Obviously I agree with Les Amis’s goals, but was this really the right way to protest? Obviously the government is doing something bad— but was this symbolic event really the right place to talk about it? Why even choose to interrupt this event, and the lives of the workers leading it and everyday people attending it? It wasn’t responsible for what was happening! 
Okay, yeah, I get the funeral is ‘symbolically significant.’  I get that Lamarque has become, in popular culture, a symbol of rebellion and resistance against a government’s unfair policies.  I get Lamarque’s funeral is a pretty big public event that has a lot of symbolic significance ties to ideas of rebellion against the state.
I get that Lamarque’s words are often seen as a rebellious call to action, so illegally interrupting his funeral could be a statement about resisting tyranny. It could be a call to action playing off the popularity and symbolic role that Lamarque has in the public consciousness.
 But at the same time— shouldn’t Les Amis have just gone to the palace and attacked the king directly? Why disrupt this symbolic event instead? They’re not really going after the people responsible! 
After all, there were so many people there who just wanted a normal day. They weren’t responsible for what the government was doing and had nothing to do with it.  They wanted to see the procession, to hear Lafayette’s speech and grieve a political figure they cared for. They wanted to hear people praise ‘resistance’ in the abstract, without actually doing it.
 Weren’t Les Amis disrupting that?  
Aren’t Les Amis bad activists? Isn’t disrupting people’s everyday lives for the sake of 'activism' always inherently a bad thing? I’m not against activism, but isn’t doing that kind of disruptive activism rude? Isn’t disrupting the lives of ordinary people just doing their jobs or going out for a special event evil— no matter why you’re doing it, or what your goals are, or whether the government actually is doing something vile that we should start to stage great events rallying against?
Even if this Lamarque's funeral has special significance because of its symbolic pop cultural ties to rebellion against tyranny—shouldn’t they have just avoided rudely interrupting some regular people’s everyday lives? 
Protests shouldn’t disrupt things. they should be big parades that don’t make anyone uncomfortable, don’t interrupt anything, and don’t disrupt any aspects of ‘normal people’s daily life.’ No one should ever target symbolic events— like a funeral for a political figure or a musical about revolution—  to make a political statement. Protests should be little quiet festivals that cause absolutely no interruption in everyday life so that we can all just safely ignore them, until the climate catastrophe they’re warning us about arrives.”  
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tyunkus · 1 year ago
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these days i’m thinking about … fwb service dom tyun… finals week has been kicking your ass, and all of the stress from your different courses and whatever workload you have has been taking a toll on you mentally and physically. and everyone can see it - especially taehyun, who refuses to let you off the hook, and wants desperately to take your mind off of it all.
so he makes an offer.
let me take care of you. he says it when you’re both drunk on the floor of your apartment, trying to take the edge off the upcoming weeks. you had been whining about it all night, how stressed you are, and now he’s looking at you so soft, so serious, you’re taken aback.
obviously, you refuse. you know what he means by taking care of you - you’ve slept with him before. but you don’t need dick to get through finals season, you can handle it perfectly fine on your own!!! and you tell him this, and he nods, shrugging it off, but the air is so thick between you two you know he’s just itching to prove you wrong.
& he does. there’s this party you attend, the night of your last day of exams - it’s like your reward after so many nights of frustration and cramming. letting yourself loose, getting some drinks in your system, dancing away all your stresses, and taehyun’s there, of course he is, hand placed casually on your waist while you two eye the crowd, holding your drink for you when you slide over to the dance floor. taehyun takes care of you, watches over you like he always does. he even humors you, getting a whole bottle of alcohol and holding it barely above your lips while you tilt your head back and he pours it down your throat. holds your chin after and wipes off a drop from the corner of your mouth. you know, that sort of thing.
but then somewhere along the way it gets too much - the lights, the music, the heat. somehow the same feeling you came here to avoid - that sense of guilt, self-hatred, anxiety - bubbles up in you and robs you of all your energy. taehyun notices, probably from the way you stumble a little bit, and when he holds you close and your face is pressed close to his neck all you can muster is, “can you—can you take care of me now?”
and before you know it you’re locked in a random room with him and you’re on your knees. he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, peering down at you while you sit all pretty between his legs, and you can’t quite tell why or how it happened, not exactly. and now… now you don’t know how to feel. certainly the random surge of anxiety that had hit you earlier has disappeared, and now taehyun doesn’t look too worried anymore - but maybe that’s more concerning, his strange look of relaxation. like he has no care in the world.
then he leans over a bit, closer to you, and he cups your cheek, so gentle, so sweet. “you finally agreed,” he murmurs, his thumb sweeping over your face. “you don’t need to worry. you’ve done so well. you can relax now.”
you believe him. you really, truly believe him. you think about the past few weeks and suddenly none of it seems all that important anymore, not when taehyun’s holding you like this. like you’re precious. you melt a little into his touch and he just smiles, his dimples showing. “you’re ready, then? finally had enough? couldn’t take it anymore?”
you’re breathless, flushed, almost ashamed at the implication. sure, you’ve slept with him plenty of times before, but that doesn’t mean you need him, it doesn’t mean you-
“relax, baby,” taehyun interjects, breaking your train of thought. “let me take care of you, alright? just like i promised. it’s all that i want. it’s all i ever wanted.”
me & my obsession w transactional sex w taehyun that actually has feelings and both of u r too dumb to realize
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niragisqueenofhearts · 3 months ago
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~Lured to the music.~
Arthur Fleck (Joker) x Fem!Reader
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Warning: 18+‼️MINORS DNI‼️ nsfw, smut, unprotected sex, semi public sex, brief mention of violence, drinking, smoking (cigarettes)
Word count: (rechecking...)
A/N: Just a cute little dabble i thought of last night. I’ve been obsessing over Joaquin and his characters lately so i thought why not add him to the roster. I’m not the type to add music to fanfiction but two songs i listened to helped inspired this- I’ve got it bad and that ain’t good by The Oscar Peterson trio and If i tell you I love you by Melody Margot. Do with that information what you will.
More fanfics to come!
Enjoy!
————
This was it, everything Arthur has ever dreamed of was finally happening tonight.
Tonight, he was going to be on the Murray Franklin show.
He strutted down the streets in a red suit, complimented with a green dress shirt, orange vest, a face of clown makeup and a head full of green locks to top it all off. He hummed a melody to himself as he made his way down the sidewalk, taking brief moments to dance and bask in his own glory as he passed by the many windows, each with their respective people inside looking over at him. They were all staring up at him like they had never seen anyone like him before. He smiled, waved, even blew kisses as he basked in his glory.
Arthur's actions soon came to a halt as a sound caught his attention. Down this very small driveway like a path, he could hear the faint sound of a piano playing. A soothing jazz melody wisped through the air and into Arthur's ears, his curiosity peaked, and he'd decided that he needed to find out where it was coming from. Sure, he had somewhere to go, but a little detour never killed anybody, right?...
Arthur followed the music, the notes getting louder with each minute as he searched for the source, and very soon he found it. The music led him to this scenic hideaway. He looked through the windows to see the space filled with the regular white collared joes, all enjoying a drink as they spoke to each other. Arthur hated these guys, the ones who had it easy, the ones who used mommy and daddy's money to fuel their own selfish lives while people like him died in the dirt. No, Arthur would not stand it. Not anymore. Tonight was a night when the world would be set straight, to get him and others like him justice - one way or another.
Arthur pushed open the glass door that stood before him and ventured in. The smell of smoke, alcohol and sweat greeted him immediately. The music had a hold on him and was pulling him closer. The workers around him all took brief glances at him, the usual side eye, furrowed brows and judgement passed all around him, Arthur didn't care, he just wanted the music. The bar seemed like something out of an old mafia movie, it was dimly lit with lamps in the corners.
The bar sat to the left of the area, it's counter lined with the same copy and paste guy wearing the usual black trousers and white button-down shirt. Further down to the back was a stage where the band sat. The gentleman that sat on the piano looked at his instrument with such love as his fingers plucked the strings so diligently. Arthur smiled, swaying his body gently to the melody that danced around him, getting lost to its beauty.
He did a quick spin and as he stopped, there you were. Like the other men you were wearing the matching attire, except a skirt, black pumps and pantyhose. You sat on the stool with a glass of scotch in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Your eyes were closed as you swayed with the music's melody, taking the occasional sip of your drink or a drag of your cigarette. Soon you gave up on nursing the drink and just gulped it back in one swipe before placing the glass onto the small table next to you. Must've been a pretty hard day at work. Arthur wondered what you did for work. Probably some type of accounting or something.
Suddenly the piano stopped, the quiet rustling of things filled the room before a quiet "Two, three, four." count. Then the next song began to play, this one was more upbeat, with lyrics of the inadequacies of words and the depth to feelings to prove of love. You took one last drag of your cigarette before stubbing it out into the ashtray next to your glass and rising from your seat. You wanted to dance. You stumbled slightly as you walked away towards the dance floor but managed to keep the rhythm as you made your way onto the dance floor. Arthur grinned at your clumsiness as he watched you, clearly, you've had a bit more than just the one scotch he saw you nestling on.
It all seemed to change once your heels clicked onto the tile floor. The music took over, like a marionette puppet and you begin to twist, and turn and sway with the music that poured in. Arthur watched you like a hawk, even stepping away slightly to adore the full body vision before him. The passion in your body, the anger, the love in every move and gesture. It was all so real. The song seemed to come alive. Like a siren leading a sailor to the slaughter, you enticed and tantalized those around you and a death Arthur welcomed.
Slowly he made his way toward you, watching your body as he mirrored your rhythm with his, and that's when it happened. A single graze of fingers across you looked and gazed upon the clown that stood less than an arm’s length away from you. Maybe it was because you had a few to drink, maybe it was because you didn't care, but there was something about this clown that intrigued you. Something in his eyes, or maybe his outfit or maybe it's the fact that you haven't seen somebody like him before. Whatever it was, you let the magic of this person fill you, he pulled your soul from its cage, leaving you feeling free and wild.
Arthur gently took his hand in yours, in a swift motion he spun you to face him, his other arm snaked around your waist. The two of you stood there just for a moment. He was waiting, waiting for you to do something. Scream, push him away and call him a creep, but you didn't. Instead, you brought your other arm around his neck, and now began this tango of your own making. The two of you moved like dancing figures in a choreographed routine. Now you were no professional dancer, and neither was Arthur, but the two of you together danced like how the ocean flowed. Your intricate footwork like you had rehearsed, the way he pressed you against him, how you both molded perfectly together, and how you both held on for dear life to each other. There was nothing in the world but you two. And it felt so good to have someone so beautiful at your side.
At a point in the dance, he'd release your hand and let his fall to your hip. You'd let your now free hand rest upon the back of his neck, softly playing with his waved ends. The two of you were so close, you could feel his heartbeat against your skin. Your eyes never once left his. In just that moment you both were connected, spiritually, emotionally, physically. As the last seconds of the song played, he dipped you before bringing you back up to him. He leaned closer into you, your noses grazing together as you both fought the urge to just kiss right then and there.
"You're a good dancer." You finally spoke.
"I know." He responded, a smirk beginning to creep on his face.
He held you until you balanced, then finally released your hips. Your body ached for his touch but neither of you made any move to leave.
"What's your name?" you asked, as you stared into the blue depths of his eyes.
"Arthur." He answered quietly. He gave on last polite smile before turning and walking over to the door.
You couldn't just leave it there surely, so you began to follow him. You walked as carefully as you could through the crowd before stumbling on your heel and tripping into two gentlemen, who had now spilled their drinks onto each other.
"Fuck!" One cursed while the other groaned and turned to face you. You stepped back slowly, your hands on your agape mouth.
"I am so sorry."  You exclaimed as you looked between the two, a hand over your forehead.
"Jesus Christ, could you have been a little more careful?"
"This stain is never going to come out!"
One by one, the men berated you for a simple accident. You didn't really care about their feelings, you just wanted to speed this up to catch the clown about to leave.
"I'll buy you another drink-"
"Oh, so you can spill it on us again? Jesus what is wrong with you?" One of the men interrupted as he grabbed napkins to clean himself and his colleague off.
"I'm sorry." You said again as you attempted to head toward the door, unfortunately, one of the men grabbed your arm.
"No sweetheart, you need to take care of this. This is a very expensive shirt that you ruined."
"Just send me the bill." You grimaced at the touch of the man as you tried to pull away from him.
"Oh honey, I think it's going to take more than that." The man spoke condescendingly.
You've seen this before all the time. Men not taking you seriously in the working world of corporate. Men who objectified and sexualized you, who thought you were some sort of toy to be used and thrown away, people who thought they were better than everyone else.
"Get off of me!" You shouted as you made another attempt to release yourself from the brute. And just when you thought things we're getting bad, a single punch hit the man that held you captive and he fell to the ground almost instantly. The other gentleman raised his fists, prepared to fight which was interrupted by the cocking of a gun and the barrel aimed in his face.
He slowly unclenched his fists and held his hands up in mercy as he lowered himself onto the seat. "Woah man."
Soon another witness caught sight of the weapon and that's when hell broke loose.
"Gun!" Yelled a voice and soon the entire crowd, including the band members and bartenders all ducked down for cover. You looked up at the armed assailant to see the same clown face you’d known from before. Arthur came back.
He took your hand in his, and with the gun still held tightly in his other hand, he dragged you out of the bar, and started running.
As Arthur pondered where you two were going to go to hide from any potential police on their way, you were more surprised with the fact that you were able to keep up with Arthur while wearing stilettos. The sound of sirens in the distance caught your attention and then you both really started to panic.
Arthur found a shortcut which landed y'all in an alley behind a vacant building that used to be a restaurant. You both ducked behind some wooden boxes and crates that sat there as a police car drove past, coming back out from the cover once the coast was clear.
You panted as you tried to regain your breath, the adrenaline was pumping though your veins and you couldn't stop shaking from both fear and excitement. You leaned against the stack of boxes behind you. "Holy shit."
You hadn't noticed the way Arthur looking you, his eyes roamed you from top to bottom, his gaze travelling from head to toe and back again in wonderment and awe. He licked his lips as he stared you down like he'd been stranded in the dessert for days, and you were a bottle of water. Boy was he thirsty...
He inched closer to you, closing the space between you too. You noticed this, finally looking up at him and your breath hitched as he stood just a breath or two away from you. He placed a hand on the boxes, holding himself up as he leaned into you. His heavy breathing caressed your lips and made you shudder ever so slightly. Your heart was racing at the mere proximity. Your blood rushed to your cheeks, and you could feel yourself growing hot under his intense stare. He took one more good look at you before finally crashing his lips against yours.  At first you were startled by his sudden boldness, but after just a second, you embraced his embrace, returning his embrace.
The kiss started slowly, soft but firm. Slowly, your tongues began to duel with each other as Arthur took control and gently pushed you backwards into the boxes and crates behind you. You moaned as he nibbled your bottom lip.
You brought your hand to cup his cheek and the other to snake around his neck. He followed suit, wrapping a hand around your waist and the other making way to the back of your thighs, beginning to gather your skirt above your knees. His fingertips grazed your skin lightly, leaving trails of heat in their path.  You gripped tightly onto him for dear life, trying desperately to make this as perfect as it could be. You gasp as you felt his nails dig into your soft flesh before running his palm over it, soothing the ache. In a swift motion, he lifted you onto the stack of crates. You helped him, removing the hand from his neck to pull your skirt up further. The sound of the unbuckling of his belt soon followed.
He pulled away from the kiss leaving you breathless. You watched as he loosened his pants completely, finally reaching into his underwear and pulling out his more than eager member. For a guy as skinny as Arthur, he sure was very well endowed. You reached between your thighs and pulled your panties to the side, you were ready for him, you needed him.
He placed one hand on the small of your back bringing you towards him as he guided himself to your entrance.  You shivered as he slipped inside of you, feeling the tip of his sex stretching you open for him, then the rest of his length followed.
You exhaled a sharp breath as he bottomed into you, holding onto his waist. You stayed there for a moment, Arthur relished the feeling of your wet heat engulfing into him, then he pulled back and delivered a hard thrust making you gasp, then another, then another and another....
Each thrust Arthur delivered, you met with them every time, thrusting your hips towards him. He'd release the crates and wrap both arms around you, one tightly around your waist and the other around your back, his hand gripping the base of your neck as he brought you closer to him. He picked up his pace, thrusting deeper and harder and faster until the sounds of your pleasure filled the quiet night air. You gripped onto his shoulders as the crates rocked with the fervor. Arthur's quite moans and grunts of pleasure filled your ears as yours filled, his strong fingers digging into your flesh were bound to leave bruises.
It wasn't long before you felt that familiar pool of heat beginning to fill your loins, you were close and so was Arthur.  He pressed himself fully within you, causing your walls to wrap tighter around him.
You both continued to move with a frenzy, both of you losing control. Both of you moaned out in unison, as you'd finally approached your climax. It felt like hours had passed and yet it wasn’t nearly enough time at the same time. You threw your head back as your orgasm ripped through you, shudders and shivers ran through your spine. Arthur held onto you tighter than ever as he grinded his hips into you, filling you with every drop of essence spilled into you.
The both of you huffed into the air as you recollected yourself from such a powerful orgasm, your chests heaved with each breath you took. Arthur pulled out of you completely, and readjusted himself, placing his cock back in his pants and zipping it up. He smiled softly at the state of you as he helped you readjust yourself, pulling your skirt back down to its respective length and helping you back onto your feet. You were disheveled, your lips painted with the red paint he wore on his face, and your hair a mess from how much sweat and exertion you put forth, and it was all because of him...
He cupped your face before bringing you back into another hard kiss, imprinting the color once more before pulling away with a gleeful smile. "Enjoy the show." Your brows furrowed slightly in confusion to his words. What did he mean? Enjoy the show? That was a weird comment if there ever was one.
It was all he said before he went on his way, pulling a cigarette out of his coat and striking a flame on the end of it.
You took one more deep breath as you can feel the emptiness around you now that he was gone. You shook the feeling as you noticed how late it was getting; you'd better hurry up before protest became more riley.
On your walk home, you caught glimpse of yourself in a window, catching the red paint that stained your face. With your sleeve, you rubbed yourself raw, even spitting onto the fabric to be sure you got every trace of it off. God forbid your roommate caught that when you got home, that'd be a very awkward conversation to have.
"Hey, I'm home." You announced yourself as you entered your apartment, your roommate Marcelle sat on the couch watching tv. She turned to look at you.
"Hey, oh... Are you okay?" She asked, her brows furrowing in concern.
"Yeah..." You answered. "Why?"
"You look really flushed, are you getting sick?"
Your eyes widened at her comment, if only she knew the events that occurred earlier.
"No, I'm fine. Had to walk past some guys fighting because of the protest hubbub, it's got me a bit shaken up." You lied to her. 
She shook her head in disbelief as she took her gaze back to the television. "People are just crazy these days..."
You chuckled. "Yeah."
You made your way into the kitchen and opened the fridge, disappointed to see the lack of sustenance that sat inside.
"Don't worry about dinner, I ordered a pizza." Marcelle spoke loudly from the living room.
"I love you." You responded as you made your way toward the couch.
"I know." Marcelle smiled. "Come, watch something with me." She patted the seat next to her on the couch. You accepted taking the seat.
"Okay... What are we watching?"
"The Murray Franklin show."
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gay-barbarian · 2 months ago
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In this one, Fox survive the train somehow but is stuck barely conscious in a hospital bed. Small description on Fox on the rail before she gets to the hospital then everything else is the rest of the Warriors coming to talk/see her.
A muffled scream came from the rail, right there was a barely breathing girl, her legs in an impossible position, bleeding from everywhere.
Fox was hurting. Everything hurted so much, well everything except her legs. That she couldn’t feel at all. Thinking hurted. She couldn't be dead, death was probably less painful. Something wet dribbled down her cheeks, blood or tears she couldn't say. She heard sounds from so far away. She wanted to check where she was but turning her head was clearly not an option. Her vision got blurry, sounds got even more distant, maybe she could finally rest now that the warriors were home safe.
She started hearing again. It was muted and too loud at the same time. She still couldn’t see anything. Even if she wanted to open her eyes she wasn’t sure she could. Her lungs felt like fire, her mouth was so dry, she felt like she needed to cough but simply couldn’t. Her body refused to move. The voices got clearer. Was that Cleon she heard? If that was the afterlife it sucked, but at least she was with Cleon. She could barely hear what was said, only a few words “Fox” “Home” “Alive”. Then the voices disappeared.
The next time Fox regained consciousness, she heard two women whispering but couldn’t discern what was said or who was talking. Then the door closed and someone shuffled close to her and sat on what she guessed was a chair. "Hey Fox…” Swan’s voice was the clearest thing she heard in a while. She sounded so tired, like a lifetime had passed since they last talked to each other. “I don't know if you can really hear us but they said talking could help.” A long silence followed as Swan tried to concentrate on what to say. “I'm so sorry Fox... I would do anything for us to change places. I should have been the one taking on the cops to get you home alive... We saw you get hit... We all thought you died... I should have come back for you right away. Cleon would have. A true leader wouldn't have let you there..." Fox could hear Swan voice breaking and shaking more with each sentence. "The warriors need you home, I need you home." Fox heard Swan’s breath get caught in her throat. “I can’t do this, I’m so sorry”. And Fox was alone again.
Cochise was the next person Fox heard. The woman’s voice was calm and matter of fact, as if she had been there before. "You did good, you know? Must have been scary to be alone against this cop, but you were so brave and so strong. A true warrior.” Fox felt the blanket on her get adjusted so most of her body was covered. She had even realised she was cold but she felt much better. “The doctors said you're doing better, you just have to wake up now. I know it's hard and scary and it won't be easier once you'll wake up but we'll be there with you. We'll bring you back to Coney, Fox." Cochise finished while changing Fox’s pillow. 
Fox was still so tired. She kept trying to wake up, but she lacked the strength. Everyone was counting on her to wake up. Just before falling back asleep, she heard a soft “Heyy..” She vaguely remembered that voice from that night. “I feel like I should reintroduce myself, I'm Mercy, don't know if you remember me. The warriors... they're a mess without you. I mean they do what they have to do but everyone seems so out of it. Swan haven't really slept since that night... pretty sure she blames herself for what happened to you and Ajax. So it would be nice if you could wake up and tell her she's being dumb. And go hug Rembrandt. She misses you and Ajax so much, even I can see it. She hasn’t come back to your guy’s place yet, she’s staying with Cleon and Swan, and me ” Silence. “You'll be okay, right?” Another silence before Mercy walked to the door. “Just… Come back to them, please.” Silence filled the room again.  
A loud “HEYO” was suddenly heard in the quiet room and Fox knew Cowgirl was there. The woman had come to see her a few times already, always with so much energy. It filled Fox with joy but also drained her of all her energy. "How’s it going, Foxy? I mean other than being stuck in a hospital bed and all that. I’m here to report this week's news directly from the warriors headquarters. First off, Ajax is still in jail but she’s supposed to be released soon! I’m sure she will come visit you in no time. Or you know you could wake up and surprise her!” Cowgirl stopped in her tracks and waited a bit to see if Fox answered her before continuing. “I’ll let you think about that. On other news, Swan and Mercy are together! You know Mercy the rando from the Orphans that kept following us, the one that made chicken sounds? Of course you know her, she comes by from time to time. So anyway she's a warrior now and she's with Swan! I saw Swan smile at her the other day, it was soooo weird, she’s so whipped." Another pause. “We also expanded our turf to one more block but it’s hard to make sure others know since Rembrandt hasn't gone out to tag anything since… I shouldn’t bore you with work. We can’t wait to have you back with us.” Cowgirl continued talking about anything and everything but Fox stopped listening, she felt herself losing consciousness again.
Fox felt the bed dropping a little on the side. A delicate hand touched her arm and her body relaxed. Fox recognised the smell of paint coming from the small woman carefully lying by her side. Rembrandt slowly put her head on Fox's chest listening to her heart beat. A moment passed, Fox didn't know if it had been three hours or three seconds but someone knocked on the door. "It's time to go, Rem, they won't let us stay any longer," said Swan. Rembrandt moved slowly out of the bed and rearranged Fox's hair out of her face. She squeezed Fox’s hand before joining Swan by the door and leaving with one last look. 
"They let me out.” Ajax, Fox finally heard Ajax again. “I should be happy to be free but if I hadn't gone after that goddamn cop you wouldn’t be here... I could have protected you...  I'm sorry Fox. I fucked up bad this time. I promise you I’ll do everything to keep you safe." Ajax stayed by her side for a while. Talking from time to time explaining how she fucked up in her opinion. Fox was just happy she was there with her.
Fox heard someone shuffle around to bring the chair closer to her. A strong hand took hers. "They made it home alive thanks to you. They told me everything that happened. You were so brave Fox, I’m so proud of the woman you’re becoming.” A calming silence filled the room. “But please never put yourself in front of a moving train again or I’ll whoop your ass.” Every fiber of Fox’s body relaxed as if the voice had taken away that whole night. She didn’t think she would hear her again. Not here. Not with the others. “Now wake up and come back home, back to your family." Cleon was alive. Cleon wanted to bring her home. Fox had brought everyone home alive. Tears rolled down her cheek. Everyone got home alive. She squeezed the hand with all the strength she had. Cleon squeezed back and looked up with a smile at her warriors on the other side of the hospital room glass. Fox is alive.
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odyssean-flower · 1 year ago
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The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 2 - Spring: Three Meetings and a Proposal
Masterpost Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Somehow, you keep running into Neuvillette. When something unexpected happens, he offers you an unexpected proposal. Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine’s regency england (sort of) now? Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please go over there if you'd like to read it faster
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Have a picture of neuvillette standing next to the skull of Oroboshi
Previous | Next
A month had passed since that unexpected encounter. You hadn’t told anyone about it, because it felt unreal even to you. Maybe you really had drank too much champagne.
In any case, the events of the ball were quickly forgotten amidst the immense preparations you had to do to obtain your governess license. It was a long, grueling process that involved leaving your hometown and moving all the way to the city, but it was about to bear fruit at last. After one last history exam, you would finally obtain your license and be able to advertise your services in the newspapers and bulletin boards.
And then, you would finally be blissfully freed from all those marriage-hunting obligations. No more balls, no more disappointments...
It was those thoughts that kept you going as you stared at the tiny words in your history textbook while being surrounded by people who seemed determined to scream their lungs out today.
“Get him, get him!” your sweet, adorable sister shouted next to you.
“Send him to jail!” her new beau also shouted from next to her. I’m pretty sure one can’t be sent to jail for hoarding ashtrays, you thought, but said nothing. He probably couldn’t even hear you, anyways.
Today, you were forced to chaperone your sister and the viscount’s son on their “romantic engagement.” Said “romantic engagement” happened to be attending a trial at the Opera Epiclese. Apparently, this was a popular date spot for young couples. It was things like these that made you feel dreadfully old and out of touch sometimes.
The seats were packed for today’s trial, for good reason. This trial was just one part of a lengthy divorce proceeding between a celebrity couple, in which they were trying to figure out how to divide their many, many assets. It was akin to a serial and even had its own dedicated column in the newspapers.
You glanced over at your sister and the young lord. They were whispering together and giggling. Even though the viscount’s son seemed a bit, for the lack of a better word, dopey, from your short interactions with him you could tell that he was a good-hearted and generous young man. Plus, there was a certain charm in watching him and your sister getting closer, the same feeling one would get from observing two cute puppies playing together. Perhaps your mother would live to see one of her daughters get married after all.
You looked back down at your book. You were on the chapter about Remuria, one of your favorite subjects. You loved reading about that long-deceased God King and his drowned empire of music. You knew that there were extensive ruins from that period near the town of Petrichor, but it was much too far and dangerous (without shelling out the exorbitant amounts of money for protection) to go there from the Court of Fontaine, so you could only ever dream of visiting there.
The cacophony faded into the background as you became engrossed in the topic.
It felt like no time had passed before you felt your sister shake your arm. “Sister, Sister! The trial’s over! Let’s go.”
You looked up to see people walking past you towards the exit. Judging from their chatter, the wife seemed to have won. What she was going to do with a vault of ashtrays, you had no idea.
You snapped your book closed and followed everyone else out. “I don’t know how you can read that boring book when there’s such an exciting show going on,” the viscount’s son commented, eyeing the thick textbook.
“Oh, that’s one of Sister’s special powers! The ability to read anywhere, no matter how loud or unsuitable the place is. I don’t know how she does it,” your sister chimed in.
“You can learn it too, you know, if you apply yourself to it,” you informed her.
“Ugh, you’re already talking like a governess,” your sister pouted.
“A governess? You want to be that?” the viscount’s son said, sounding incredulous. Seriously, why does everyone sound so shocked when they hear about it? “I had a governess once. She was always alone and wasn’t even allowed to eat with the family. Seems like a rather miserable job if you asked me.”
“Yeah, that’s what I told her, but she won’t change her mind! She kept talking about how it’s ‘her role in life’ and her ‘fate.’”
You tuned the two out. You had heard variations of this conversation too many times over the years.
Once the three of you reached the main hall, the darling couple decided to go get some refreshments while waiting for the rain to subside. You decided to sit on one of the comfy stuffed couches under the stairs and resume your studying.
The words on the pages flowed into your brain. Remus...Sybilla...harmosts... what would it be like to live in that era? Or at least, to walk the places where these words were once part of everyday life? To touch the artifacts—the once-cherished, once-used items—of the people from back then?
You shook your head. Sometimes, your mind would drift to things that weren’t anywhere on the horizon of your life, just like how you would sometimes indulge yourself by reading romance novels and light novels from Inazuma. No, you needed to hone your mind and focus on your reality. You were in no position to move off your pre-determined path. You needed to think about how you were going to teach these concepts to children—
“Good day to you, Miss [Name].”
You nearly jumped at that voice. A very familiar voice. Knowing who you were going to see, you stood up with your head bowed.
“Good day to you, Monsieur Neuvillette.”
You lifted your head. The man himself was standing in front of you. You had only ever seen his face in the papers and only met him once (in the dark, no less), but you thought he seemed a bit fatigued. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were sure you would feel the same if you had to preside over such a ridiculous series of trials.
“I do apologize for disturbing you,” Neuvillette immediately said upon seeing your face. Maybe your poker face wasn’t as good as you thought.
“It’s alright, Monsieur. I don’t mind.” You tried your best to sound like you meant it.
“May I sit down?” Neuvillette said after a pause. You nodded, and he proceeded to sit next to you. You moved all the way to the other end of the couch. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed you two, considering how this couch was somewhat hidden away from sight, but you couldn’t take any chances. A governess’s job prospects hinged on having a spotless reputation, after all.
“Are you here with someone?” Neuvillette asked.
“Yes, Monsieur. I’m chaperoning my sister, who has been invited on a date here.”
Speaking of your sister, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see how the two lovebirds were faring. They were currently in the process of choosing from a large menu, giggling and nudging each other as they did so. They probably weren’t going to be finished any time soon.
“Date...” Neuvillette mused. “Yes, I’ve heard that it has become quite a trend among young people to have romantic engagements at the Opera. I must admit, I don’t quite approve of having the sanctity of trials be used for such purposes.”
“I agree,” you nodded. “Although since trials are already spectacles, I suppose this isn’t so preposterous.”
“You certainly don’t mince words, Miss [Name].” there was an amused note in his voice. All you could do was shrug and smile. It wasn’t like you could refute him.
Another awkward silence. Maybe you had offended him with your comment? You didn’t really know why he would be offended though, considering that trials in Fontaine were like performances.
“What did you think of the trial, Miss [Name]?”
You had to think about it for a minute. It felt like you were being quizzed on something you hadn’t studied for. “I think they are both idiots, Monsieur. They would save everyone’s time by dueling it out between themselves.”
Neuvillette blinked for a minute, and then a small laugh slipped out his mouth. You took that to mean that he agreed with you.
His lilac eyes moved to the thick textbook in your hand, seeing it closely for the first time. His brow furrowed. “Were you reading that during the trial?”
Under his puzzled gaze, you felt like you had done something wrong. “Um, yes. Not out of disrespect for the proceedings, I assure you, Monsieur. But I have an important exam for my governess license coming up, so I need to grab any chance I have to study for it.”
“Studying in such a chaotic environment... you’re very dedicated to your goal. I can think of a few people who might be able to learn from you.”
You didn’t hear any sarcasm in his voice. He sounded genuinely impressed. You felt your shoulders relax. It had become an unfortunate tendency of yours to become defensive when you talked about these things. “Thank you, Monsieur.”
“What are you studying?” He leaned closer to you. How long is he going to stay here?
“History, Monsieur. I was reading about the older periods of Fontainian history like the Remurian Dynasty,” you opened your book and flipped to the chapter.
He tilted his head to the side as he looked at all the underlined passages and marginal notes on the pages. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that the subject of Remuria would make up such a large portion of the exam that it would warrant all these notes. Is it a personal interest of yours?”
The idea that Neuvillette knew what was on the exam was surprising. You didn’t think it was something he would have much knowledge of, but since he was the head of the Maison Gestion, which administered the governess exams, maybe it wasn’t so surprising?
“...I suppose it is,” you said at last.
"What do you like about it?”
That question caught you off guard. "I just...do,” you said at last. “The story of that civilization is very fascinating to me, so I couldn’t help but read more about it.”
No one had ever asked you about this, so you didn’t know how to answer it.
Neuvillette looked down at your notes again. Was he reading them? You had the urge to close your book. Somehow, it felt like a violation of privacy, like he was reading your diary.
You were saved by the footsteps running up to you. “Sister! Sorry we took so long! We got the—oh Archons, is that Monsieur Neuvillette!?”
Your sister and the young master were both holding boxes of Conch Madeleines in their hands, staring at the Chief Justice with identical expressions of shock. You might have laughed if the atmosphere ’t so serious.
Neuvillette stood up. “Good day to you both,” he nodded towards them, then to you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”
The three of you watched as he left. Once he was out of earshot, your sister turned to you excitedly. “Sister! You know the Chief Justice?”
“I don’t,” you said, which was a half-truth. You really didn’t know him. “He just came up to me and started chatting.”
“Really?” she lifted an eyebrow. “The Chief Justice, who is so notoriously private that he rarely even does interviews, just randomly struck up a conversation with a stranger?”
“Look, I wish I could give you a good reason, but I can’t.”
Your sister continued to stare at you with narrowed eyes. You were usually pretty good at lying to people thanks to your excellent poker face, but your sister was one of the few people who could see right through you.
“Hey, it stopped raining!” Luckily, you were saved by the viscount’s son’s shout. “That was quicker than I expected.”
With snacks in hand, the three of you left the opera house and headed towards the aquabus station.
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The exam day came, and in your honest opinion, you performed excellently. The questions were so easy that you could answer them in your sleep. The results would be finalized next week, and you knew for certain that you had qualified with flying colors. You handed the exam to the invigilator and left the Palais Mermonia with a spring in your step.
Now that you had the rest of the day free, whatever shall you do? Well, since the weather was so nice out, you thought you’d go to the Café Lucerne and get some Conch Madeleines as a celebratory snack. You had brought along your treasured copy of The History of the Decline and Fall of Remuria Volume 1 as well. Just the thought of spending the day eating sweets and reading your favorite book in the warm sunshine brought a smile to your face as you walked towards the elevator.
The thought distracted you so much that you didn’t notice the other occupant in the elevator until they cleared their throat. You spun around. It was as though fate was playing some kind of sick joke on you, since it was Neuvillette—who else could it be—standing in the tiny elevator space with you.
You thought about excusing yourself and leaving the elevator, but it was already descending.
“We do seem to meet quite often, Miss [Name],” he said. “My apologies.”
“Yes, we do indeed, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said, resigning yourself to your fate. Why did he apologize just now?
“Did you have business at the Palais Mermonia today?” he asked.
“Yes. I had to write a history exam for my governess license.”
“Ah, I see. I wish you luck in passing.”
“Thank you, Monsieur,” you smiled and nodded.
An all-too-familiar silence fell. Couldn’t this elevator go any faster? It felt as though this shaft was going on forever.
You racked your brain for something to say but came up empty. You and Neuvillette simply lived in two completely different worlds. In situations like these, it was better to stay silent and pretend to be invisible, in your experience.
“So, Miss [Name], what do you think of the fall of Remuria? Do you believe it was truly predestined?”
“Huh?” That was the last thing you expected to hear.
Neuvillette repeated his question.
“I heard you the first time, Monsieur...I was just confused as to why you asked me that.”
“I simply want to know what a scholar of history like yourself thinks about it. I’ve asked this question to several others, and I’ve always received different answers. It’s very fascinating.”
A scholar of history? You felt embarrassed at how your heart lifted at hearing yourself described as such.
“Well, if you don’t mind listening to the opinions of an untrained layman like me, Monsieur...”
You cleared your throat and began to launch into the theory you had been brewing inside your head for several years. As you talked, the two of you walked out of the elevator and into the main hall, where people gawked at the Chief Justice listening attentively to a plain-looking woman prattling on about Remus and Boethius.
You noticed none of these things, for you had gotten too carried away with the excitement of finally having the opportunity to express your opinion on things that you actually cared about. You also didn’t notice the soft amusement in Neuvillette’s eyes as he observed you.
“...And so, I believe that Remuria might have lasted for much longer if those in power didn’t covet the things that weren’t meant for them, and instead focused their energies on preparing for their inevitable fate,” you concluded as the two of you neared the Café, then smiled up at him triumphantly. It was then that you realized that you had been the only one talking for the past fifteen minutes. “Oh, my apologies, Monsieur. I got carried away. It must have been dreadfully boring to hear me talk on and on.”
“Not at all. I was the one who asked, and it’s fascinating to hear such long-ago events from the perspective of a modern young lady. Have you ever considered becoming a historian or an archaeologist?”
Your good mood immediately faded upon hearing that. “No, Monsieur,” you said, sounding curter than you meant to. “I have not. Being a governess is my sole goal in life.”
Neuvillette seemed to sense your shift in mood, and the corners of his eyes lowered in regret. “My apologies. I have overstepped my bounds. But still, I do believe that the academic world is missing a brilliant mind like yours.”
You knew he was just being kind, but you still couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. And guilty. Your personal issues weren’t his problem. “Thank you, Monsieur.”
“I must admit, I had a very different impression of you from when we first met.”
“You did?” What he said baffled you. You always considered yourself to be a straightforward, “what you see is what you get” kind of person.
“Yes. I assumed you to be much more somber and cynical, but you’re nothing of that sort. You’re much livelier and passionate than you seem.”
“No, I’d say you were right the first time, Monsieur,” you said, amused. Lively and passionate were not words you had ever heard yourself associated with. “I think everyone acts different when they’re talking about the things they like, because they’re really talking about themselves. For instance, my sister loves to tease most of the time, but she gets deathly serious when it comes to shoes. I’m sure even you have moments like that, Monsieur.”
“No, I’m afraid not. My emotions are not so mutable or varied as yours.”
“Hmm…” you stared at him. It was true that his face wasn’t very expressive, but many people had said the same thing of you and assumed that you were unfeeling, which you knew wasn’t true. Perhaps it was the same for him.
The scent of coffee caught your attention as you realized that you were standing in front of the Café. “Ah, this is where I was heading, Monsieur. Would you like to, ah, join me?” you said awkwardly.
“I would be delighted to, but I am in fact invited to the opera house for a special performance, so unfortunately, I must decline.”
“A performance, huh. That sounds wonderful. Well, I mustn’t keep you then. Goodbye, Monsieur Neuvillette.”
“Goodbye, Miss [Name]. Have a lovely day.”
You watched him as he left. You had been looking forward to your reading time, but now you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.
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“Congratulations, Miss [Name], you are successfully qualified as a Court of Fontaine-licensed governess.”
The Gestionnaire’s monotone voice did little to dampen your excitement! You did it! After all your hard work and perseverance, you had finally obtained what you longed for.
“Now, you will be placed on the waiting list.”
You felt your smile drop off your face. “Waiting list?”
“There is a large volume of applicants whose applications are waiting to be processed before yours. Not to mention, there is currently a surplus of governesses in Fontaine. You need to wait for the older ones to retire before taking their spots,” the Gestionnaire dropped their voice to a whisper. “I would advise you to reconsider your career aspirations. If you want, you can also be placed on the waiting list for schoolteacher licenses.”
You frowned. School teachers were a somewhat less respectable profession for noble ladies than governess. It wasn’t as bad as laborer or factory worker, but it was still cause for other nobles to gossip about your family behind their backs.
For poor, low-ranking nobles, a spotless reputation was as valuable as gold. Any perceived blemish could attach undesirable labels that would take generations to erase. You thought of your beautiful, angelic sister, smiling so happily with that viscount’s son. That fragile relationship could be so easily snuffed out by a single bad rumor.
There were other jobs open to you, such as lady’s companion. However, you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t last very long in a role like that.
But on the other hand, you were desperate. You needed to fulfill your role for the sake of your family’s future and your own.
“Okay, put me on that list too,” you nodded tightly. “How long is it?”
“For both lists, it would take at least a year before we reach your application.”
“A year!?” you said. You hadn’t intended to sound angry, but the Gestionnaire recoiled. You forced yourself to calm down. Getting angry wouldn’t help your case.
A year was far too long. You lived in a boarding house in the centre of the city, and your savings were running out quickly. You didn’t even know if you would be able to pay next month’s rent. As a governess, you were supposed to receive a stipend for the first few months after obtaining your license as you searched for work, but those hopes were now dashed.
You thanked the Gestionnaire and left the Palais Mermonia with heavy steps, eventually ending up at the Café Lucerne. You considered going to a tavern to drown your sorrows in drink but decided against it. You were angry and frustrated, yes, but not to the point of doing something so foolish.
So, instead of a nice bottle of alcohol, you ordered five bottles of Fonta. Maybe you could drown your sorrows with their refreshing taste instead.
You slumped in your chair as you guzzled down the first bottle. You didn’t get it. You had worked so hard to fulfill the role granted to you by fate, and yet an obstacle was inexplicably placed on your path. It was such an inoffensive, unassuming role, so why...?
And what were you going to do from now on?
You could go home. Your family lived in a small town that was some distance away from the Court of Fontaine. But you would rather not. You had moved out in the first place to alleviate the financial burden on your family, and if you did move back, you would have to endure your mother’s tireless attempts to find you a husband.
You tilted your head back and stared up at the sky. It was a clear blue, not a single cloud in sight. It felt like it was mocking you.
Just then, a pale face framed with long silver hair blocked your sight. Lilac eyes looked down into your own.
Of course he would be the one to witness your current state. You wouldn’t be surprised if you went home and found him in your sitting room at this point.
“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you stood up and curtseyed half-heartedly. “As you can see, I’m no state to keep you company today. Please feel free to converse with someone else."
Neuvillette did not leave, but instead surveyed your surroundings. His brow furrowed at the bottles of Fonta.
He sat down across from you.
“My apologies for being so presumptuous, but I simply cannot stand by and watch you in such a state. Please, tell me what is distressing you.”
You stared at him. He was leaning forward, his eyes brimming with concern. Even though you barely knew him and was still considering just excusing yourself and leaving...
You sat back down and told him what just happened and your current circumstances. As you did so, you felt hot tears building up at the back of your eyes. You squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop them from coming out. You prided yourself on never crying, on taking what life threw at you without complaint. But there was also another reason, something you were surprised to admit even to yourself.
You didn’t want Neuvillette to see you cry.
It was a pathetic wish, but you wanted to show your best side to him. You wanted him to keep being impressed by you.
You didn’t know if Neuvillette picked up on your feelings. You hoped not. If he tried to comfort you, you would really lose control.
It felt colder than it did a few seconds ago. The area darkened; the shadows of clouds casted onto the ground. You could hear the people around you discussing if it was going to rain. Perfect. You would welcome rain at this point.
Neuvillette didn’t say anything for a while after you finished talking. You wondered if he understood what you told him. Surely the Iudex, the highest authority figure in the land next to the Hydro Archon, would find the concept of financial issues foreign?
You decided to grab another bottle of Fonta. But just as you reached for it, Neuvillette’s hand blocked yours and gently placed it down on the table.
Unaware of your reeling, he spoke in a quiet voice. “I can see that you’re in an extremely difficult situation, Miss [Name]. It troubles me greatly.”
You simply nodded. What else was there to say.
“I would like to propose an... unorthodox solution to your problems. One that would be beneficial for both of us.”
You looked up at him at that. You had expected him to tell you to go back home and tell your parents what happened and obey their wishes. But Neuvillette himself was offering a solution? What could it be?
Every nerve in your body was telling you that this could lead to nothing good. You usually trusted your instincts, as they were always right, but currently you were desperate enough to listen to anything.
“What do you propose, Monsieur?”
“Marry me.”
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