#i havent had like. a ''dream'' like this in a long time it almost feels a little silly n childish LMAO

[planetamarte]

confession. for a few months ive had a fucking pipe dream of drawing something sonic related in the most minimal official capacity for sega

[jamesbukkakebarnes]

.

[heys0ulmate]

veneration (this faith's got me high)

pairing: sofia falcone/gigante x f!reader

summary: sofia isn't the same anymore- but you've waited too long for her to care.

warnings: uhh .. unnegotiated/dubcon, gun usage, slight bondage, passing out, im sure im missing stuff, not proofread, major abuse of italics sorry lmao

word count: 4.6K

A/N: this is the first part of what i PLAN to be a series, tho im not sure when the next part(s) will be out. i legitimately havent published a fic in over a decade so im sorry that its like. poorly structured LOL. not much smut in this one sorry yall. title from holy by zolita btw. also this was posted prematurely by accident cus it was still in my drafts but oh well

〰️

You don't recognize the room you're in, but you feel no danger. All you feel is giddiness and bliss.

There's something warm next to you. Sofia.

Her red, pretty lips are moving, corners curled up slightly, but you can't hear her. You laugh despite the fact, because it feels right. The joy in your chest overwhelming.

She's closer, now. You're laughing hysterically, to the point of tears. It's getting hard to breathe.

Sofia cups your face. She looks scared, but you still can't hear what she's saying. You can't speak- all you can do is laugh and choke for air.

The room changes.

It's crowded.

You spot Sofia from across the galley.

Something in you tells you to run to her, as fast as you can, like you'll die if you don't. It's an all-consuming type of panic, the inability to breathe slowly creeping back.

You push past the crowd, but the more progress you make, the larger the room seems to grow.

The crowd parts, and you see her. She's leaving the room, hand in hand with her father. Her lips are parted in a scream that you still can't hear.

"Sofia!" You shriek, running as fast as you can now that the people have cleared a path.

You're inches away from Sofia and the grip her father has on her when you suddenly hear her voice loud and clear from behind you.

"She's not here anymore."

You bolt up from your bed, gasping for air and flailing under your blanket, desperately trying to wrestle it off.

It takes a minute to gather your bearings.

"Shit," you mutter to yourself, rubbing your eyes.

It shouldn't phase you. You can't remember a single night in the past ten goddamn years that you haven't woken up from a some sort of dream-turned nightmare about Sofia. But something about this one seemed to stick to you like summer heat, an uncomfortable, lingering sensation that seems to amplify the harder you try to ignore it.

"She's not here anymore."

It rings through your head like a catchy song as you stumble into the kitchen for a glass of water.

In the ten years since Sofia was taken from you, you haven't heard her voice even once. You weren't allowed visitation as a non-family member, and phone calls were prohibited for the same reason.

It was almost if the sanctions had carried over into your psyche, some form of cruel punishment that prevented you from hearing her even in your dreams.

At least you were able to see her at night.

You'd never grown used to the inevitable, debilitating dread that suffocated you each time you awoke, but you still looked forward to falling asleep each night, knowing it'd grant you a brief illusion of having Sofia by your side again.

"She's not here anymore."

You try not to think to hard about it, to instead appreciate the blessing of being graced with her voice, even if it was just subconscious. You tell yourself it's probably just a result of the weeks recent events; the flooding of Gotham city. The death of Carmine Falcone.

The impact of it all must have rattled you.

That's all.

But... you can't shake the nagging feeling that there was something more.

It's then that your phone rings on your bedside table. *BRRR*

You set your water cup down with a huff, shuffling your feet slowly towards your bedroom. You're in no rush to pick up. Who the fuck call at this time of night; and without warning?

In your experience, this meant one of two things: the call was your basic, run of the mill scam attempt, or a reporter who had found your number and was desperate for some kind of story. Not that you'd ever give them one, of course. Even when Sofia was still around, and your relationship was somewhat in the public eye, you never discussed anything with journalists of any kind.

After Sofia was sent to Arkham, the scrutiny on you had increased. You went from being the occasionally mentioned girlfriend of Carmine Falcone's daughter, to 'the woman who loved The Hangman.'

Generally, the public saw you as a pseudo-victim; someone who had been manipulated by The Hangman, paraded to maintain a false image, and used as a front to keep Sofia's cover. They didn't believe you when you claimed to have been with Sofia on three of the nights that those women were killed. "The poor girl- who knows what that woman subjected her to, to make her lie for her?"

The year following her arrest was the peak of your exposure. You were relentlessly assaulted with press whenever you went outside, and you had to change your cell phone number four times.

Everyone was dying for an inside scoop on what it was like to know The Hangman intimately.

By the second year, you were more comfortable leaving the house. You moved just outside of Gotham, and slowly, the pressure for statements and interviews died down the longer Sofia was away. You still get the occasional phone call, someone hoping that now that it's been 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 years, maybe you'd be willing to share your 'story.'

You'd hang up immediately every time, until you got to the point where you just stopped picking up.

*BRRRRR*

You approach your bedside table with every intention to hit the reject button, squinting at the brightness of your screen in the dark of your room.

That's when you see the caller ID.

*000*

You pause.

So far, every telemarketer, every scammer, reporter, and journalist, were listed as either Unknown Caller, or a string of numbers.

The only time you received calls with three digit numbers was when it was Alberto.

A part of you hesitates. Alberto does this, sometimes, though it's become more sparse over the years: he goes on a bender, gets too in his feelings, and calls from a nurner phone and leaves you a barrage of voice and text messages. It's always the same, with him going on coked-up rant about how he's going to get Sofia out one day and wrong everyone who wronged her.

Outside of that, though, Alberto never called. When Sofia was sent away, Alberto had begun simultaneously spiraling and attempting to survive and thrive in the Falcone family. Between the drugs and job, Alberto became a lot more isolated than he used to be. Any attempt on your part to reach out wasn't successful. He stopped responding from the number you'd had saved, keeping communication one-sided.

Still, every week, you texted him the same thing at the same time. Sunday, 9AM, an hour before you knew Sofia had visitation hours. Tell Sofia I love her, please.

You'd never get a response, but you never really expected to, either. You had no way of confirming if he was seeing your messages. The only way you knew Alberto still even thought of you or knew your number was with the increasingly infrequent, triple digit ID calls.

Either way, the occasional drug fueled messages always left you feeling even more depressed. Knowing Alberto was suffering just as much as you didn't bring any sort of comfort; it just reminded you of your own pain.

*BRRRRR*

Between the unease from your dream and timing of the call, though, every instinct in your body is telling you to pick up the phone.

Your hands tremble as you clumsily smash the answer button with your thumb, bringing the phone up to your ear.

"Hello?" You wait with baited breath as you hear Alberto on the other side of the line. "...'Berto?" There's nothing but silence for a moment.

Then, you hear him clear his throat. "I, uh-" There's a pause, and a sniff. "I'm gettin' her out, [Y/N]."

You're heart pounds almost painfully. "Y-you mean-"

"Yeah," Alberto confirms with a disbelieving laugh, as if he can't wrap his own head around it. "Yeah," he says again, more firmly this time, confirming everything you've wanted, pleaded, prayed for, for ten years. "She's comin' home."

The news breaks two days later.

Two days of silence from Alberto after he dropped that fucking bomb on you.

You aren't sure if you're in shock, or if it literally hasn't quite hit you yet. Maybe it's because, despite a part of you accepting you'd never see her again, you always had faith in your heart that she'd come back to you. That naive hope kept you alive for ten years.

You aren't sure what to do with yourself, now. You've grown so accustomed to just... existing. Holding hope, with nothing to really do with it. This sort of feels likes that, but with more anticipation knowing what's to come.

Except, it doesn't.

She comes home, yes. You watch the reports about it, read the headlines, hear the outcries. But you don't see her. You don't hear from her, or Alberto, and you're resigned to waiting for one of them to reach out.

After a few days, you grew impatient. The anxiety you'd felt from waiting around had turned into a sort of panic, an all consuming need to make any attempt to quell your nerves.

Why hadn't you heard anything? Had something gone wrong? Did they forget?

You'd gone to the Falcone residence. It was fucking packed with news casters, journalists, rioters and spectators. It had taken you a while to shove your way through the mob, and when you had, you were turned away like everyone else.

You went back the next day, and the next, and the results were the same.

And then, Alberto dies.

You think the shock will return, but all you can think is Sofia, Sofia, Sofia. Your Sofia. Your girl, who must be hurting so tremendously right now, who you can't cradle and comfort.

It seems your deep seeded need to be by Sofia's side reignites some of your more rational thinking, though, and you consider your options.

The crowds of cameras and protesters should disperse by the time the sun goes down, you'd assume, giving you more of a shot to see her.

So, you decide to return to the Falcone's late that evening, when the moon has settled and the stars are at their brightest.

Despite the time, it seems the family is well awake, as all the lights can be seen as you walk up the driveway. You hear voices, though you're too far away to tell if they're shouts from behind the walls, or conversations outside.

Soon, two of the guards notice you approaching. "Hey!" One hollars, hoisting up his gun as he stalks towards you. "What are you doin' here? You got business with Luca?"

You should probably be more concerned about the possibility of being shot by a paranoid guard, but your adrenaline is pumping too hard to care.

"Uh- no, I'm- I don't," you stutter. "I wanna see Sofia."

As the second guard approaches, you hear a soft chuckle. "Ah, yeah, I remember you," he drawls, before turning towards the other man. "Used to hang around Sofia," he explains to him, making the other relax his posture slightly.

"She's not available," the first one grunts, "probably won't be for a while."

Being turned down does little to deter you. "So she's here? Just, not available?" You ask hopefully. They don't get a chance to respond. "That's fine. I can wait."

You make a bold move to squeeze past them, speed walking over to the grand stair case in front of the house with purpose.

Behind you, the guards bicker. You don't hear what they say, outside of something about 'letting Ms. Falcone decide,' but based on the lack of pushback, you assume the one who remembered you was suggesting the other guard leave it be.

You're perfectly content to sit for as long as you need to. You've waited a decade for Sofia; you can wait a few hours- or even until the morning- to finally see her after all this time.

To your surprise, though, you only wait for about 45 minutes.

The front doors of the mansion swing open, and you hear the click of heels stomping down the steps.

"Fuckin' pricks," someone mutters, and you immediately recognize the voice.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you stand on shaky legs, and you can't turn around to face her fast enough. You almost lose you balance in the process, but catch yourself in time for Sofia to notice your presence.

She has a cigarette halfway to her lips as she stares at you, an unreadable expression on her face.

You blink.

She blinks.

"You're..." her voice sounds empty for a moment. Then she shakes her head a little, blinking hard a few times and huffing. "What are you doing here, [Y/N]?"

You open your mouth, but your brain is moving a mile a minute. Nothing comes out, and you just gape at her like a fish for a few moments. "Uhhhh..." you trail off dumbly, but you're too frozen to even feel stupid about it.

Sofia rolls her eyes. "Come on," she says as she resumes her walk past you, lighting up her cigarette as she does. "I'm not staying too far from here at the moment."

You practically trip over yourself in your rush to follow Sofia. It's a bit of a struggle to keep up with her pace, but you manage. The car is parked at the end of the driveway. A burly man is propped against the hood, and he moves around to the back door when he sees Sofia quickly approaching. He opens it for her with a quick acknowledgment as she slides in smoothly, and remains silent as you clumsily follow suit.

Sofia keeps her eyes fixed out the window as the man gets into the drivers seat. You can't help but stare at her, though, something akin to awe making it impossible to look away.

A few minutes into the drive, you see Sofia tentatively shift her eyes towards you. She looks on guard, as though unnerved by your eyes on her.

Still, she says nothing. Her gaze stays trained on the passing scenery for the remainder of the ride, like she's stubbornly making an effort to ignore your blatant staring.

Sofia hardly waits until the car is parked to unbuckle and hastily exist the vehicle once it's pulled in front of her building. You rush to get your door open, jogging a little to catch up to her.

You're paid no mind as Sofia struts inside and walks to the kitchen. It's almost like you're invisible, a silent, unseen witness.

Sofia moves around the kitchen with a practiced ease, retrieving a glass and wine bottle that she pops open, pouring a sizeable amount. She takes a long, long sip, her head tilting back until the contents of her glass are almost completely gone.

Then, she sighs, her shoulders relaxing a bit as she embraces the warmth of the alcohol.

Finally, she looks at you, indifference written all over her face. "You didn't give me an answer earlier," she states simply.

You take a small step forward. "Sofia..." You blink hard, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

Sofia is looking at you. You see her. You hear her.

You take another step, and another, until your knees buckle in front of her. "Sofia," it's an almost reverant sound that makes Sofia inhale sharply.

She's so close.

You wrap your arms around her legs as you kneel before her, nuzzling against her thighs.

"Sofia," you say again, just as softly.

You can breathe again. After ten long, dreadful years, you finally feel like the air in your lungs is pure and real.

Sofia freezes. She's unsure of how to process this.

You're here. In front of her- willingly.

It feels wrong; you bowing before her when you have no idea who she is anymore.

"Cut it out," she mutters, lightly pushing your head away and taking a small step back.

You remain on your knees, looking up at her with half lidded eyes.

The adoration in them makes Sofia uncomfortable.

"Get off the floor," Sofia says, her tone indescribable. "You aren't an animal." She turns to top off her wine glass, takes a sip, and leaves the room.

It takes you a minute to gather yourself, but you slowly move towards the direction she headed in. You find her in a room down the hall, an open, office-adjacent space. She's sitting on a loveseat in the center of the room, staring blankly ahead as she sips away.

You pause in the doorway to observe her for a minute, wondering if she's aware that you've followed. You decide to let your presence be known, taking a few confident steps forward.

Sofia doesn't look at you when she speaks.

"Whatever you're here for," she starts, "you won't find."

"No," you find yourself saying. "No, Sofia, I..." you trail off as you come closer. "I... I just want you."

Sofia's jaw clenches. "You don't know what that means anymore," she spits, before taking another sip of her wine, attempting to grow the irrational anger brewing inside her.

There's a certain, panicked heat that comes over you then, feeling unheard and misunderstood. "No, no," you say hastily. "No, Sofia, please," you drop in front of her again. "Please, Sofia. I don't care what that- what that means. All I care about is you."

Sofia scoffs, her temper getting the best of her. She grips your hair without thinking, pulling your head off her lap to look up at her. "You want me to show you what it means?" She hisses, eyes wide and manic. "Okay. Take your clothes off."

You're momentarily stunned, not expecting Sofia's request. "What? Ah-!" Sofia yanks your hair again, gritting her teeth as she speaks. "Take off your fucking clothes," she repeats.

Her tone sends you into motion, and you scramble to remove your top. Sofia settles back against the couch as she watches you undress for her, keeping her features schooled.

Once you're bare, you shift on your knees a bit, unsure of what to do. Being naked in front of Sofia certainly isn't new, but, it's also been ten years since you've last been intimate with her. You never anticipated it happening again like... this. Sofia never acted this way with you in the last. Usually, she undressed you herself, slowly and with kisses on each inch of skin she revealed. She had been teasing, sure, but never so stern.

It stirred something in you that you couldn't place your finger on. All you know is, you certainly aren't complaining.

So, you stay still, not wanting to do anything without instruction lest Sofia decide she's no longer willing to entertain you. You bask in Sofia's predatory gaze, letting her drink in your exposed body.

Soon, though, you start to squrim a bit. It's not cold, per say, but the air was just brisk enough on your bare skin that you couldn't ignore the slight chill.

You shiver a little, and Sofia smirks.

"You cold?" She asks knowingly. Sofia keeps her eyes on you as she reaches for her wine glass, standing as she does.

You tense a little as she begins to stalk closer to you, a small sneer on her face.

She's behind you, now, but you don't dare to move your head, not even when you hear the clink of her wine glass on the ground. Instead, you stay still and complacent as Sofia picks up your discarded shirt and begins to wrap it around your wrists. You moan inadvertently at the feeling of her skin on yours, but Sofia takes a deep breath. She ignores the sound, instead making quick work of restraining your hands behind your back.

When she's done, Sofia picks her glass back up as she towers over you. There's a dark, empty look in her eye that sends a chill down your spine.

Sofia, of course, notices this.

She smirks. "Is that it? You chilly, sweetheart?" Her voice is patronizing and full of faux concern.

You're not sure if she wants an answer or not, but aren't given a chance to respond either way, Sofia suddenly splashing the remenants of the wine from her glass onto you.

You flinch, and gasp loudly at the cold sensation. You're hands instinctively move to rub at eyes in an attempt to clear your vision, but you find yourself tugging fruitlessly at the shirt Sofia had binded your wrists. The wine soaking your face and dampening your hair ends trickles down your body, erupting goosebumps in it's wake.

You're still blinking heavily in an attempt to normalize your seeing when hear a breathy cackle. You feel her pinch your jaw, a strong grip on you as she licks a filthy stripe up your face, lapping up the spilt wine. She releases you, the sound of footsteps echoing through the room as Sofia struts past you and towards the desk by the window. You can't see what she's retrieving, your eyesight blurry and unfocused.

By the time Sofia circles back, you've mostly regainedy your vision. You don't have any time to visually process what she has in her hand, though, as she wastes no time in forcing the barrel of her handgun past your parted, panting lips, and into your mouth.

"It's a terrible feeling. Isn't it?" The gun presses a little harder, and you cringe at the feeling of rough metal pressing against your tongue. "Nothing left to hide behind," Sofia drawls, her voice is surprisingly even, though her words feel weighted.

You blink up at her with an unnerving lack of fear.

Sofia bares on with a tilt of her head. "The guards at Arkham stripped us bare every morning," she states, and your heart clenches at the thought. "It was humiliating," Sofia continues, a subtle anger brewing in her voice with each punctuated annunciation, "being turned into a thing."

Sofia shoves the gun hard enough to make you gag, and presses forward until you're bending backwards. Sofia straddles you, her grip on the gun directing your movements. She has you sprawled on your back, hands twisted painfully under you, pressed between your spine and the hardwood floor.

Sofia lowers her face, her wild eyes inches from yours. "You think," she growls, "that I'm still who you knew?" She smiles, though there's no joy in it. "That I'm not just a thing?"

Apparently, it wasn't a rhetorically question, as Sofia yanks the gun out of your mouth.

You sputter for a second, before rushing to respond, "no," you gasp. "I- I don't expect you to- to be the same, Sofia, I don't." Your voice cracks a bit, and you pray that your eyes convey your earnesty. "I don't care that you- you don't feel like yourself, Sofia, if you feel different, now. I love you. I love you. I love you, Sofia," you insist, your voice soft.

Sofia regards you for a long minute, and you wait with abated breath to see how she'd react.

For a moment, you think she's heard you. Really heard, and believed you- believed in your unconditional love and devotion for her. There's a hopeful, but guarded look in her eye, something akin to a skittish street cat assessing if it should trust the hand reaching out to pet it. But, just as quickly as it appeared, it's gone.

Sofia's features go hard again, and she moves her face away, straightening her back and kneeling over you.

"You don't get it," she says- simply, quietly, almost as if to herself.

You part your lips to protest, but Sofia is quicker, and slaps her hand over your mouth. "Don't," she warns.

Sofia hates it. The way you don't even struggle under her; the way you just take it, like you understand what this means.

Why don't you get it? Do you really not understand what kind of horrors she was exposed to? What they did to her; what they turned her into?

It pisses her off.

How dare you, how dare you, prance back into her life, expecting her to be untouched by the hell that was Arkham?

Do you think she's naive? That she'd truly believe, after all this time, you'd still want her? Want her for who she actually is now?

You don't even fucking know her anymore.

Fuck.

It infuriates her for so many reasons that she refuses to acknowledge right now.

Instead, she let's herself embrace the unbridled rage that's always threatening to erupt inside her.

"Alright!" She exclaims, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading across her face. "You love me?" She taunts. "You think you want me?"

She shoves herself off of you to pull her underwear down her legs. You're heart thuds as she slips off her fur coat and hikes up her dress. Sofia easily drops back down, straddling your face and gripping your hair with one hand. "Show me, then." With that, she lowers herself completely, smothering your face in her cunt.

Your primal instincts kick in, then, and you press forward, your tongue eagerly swiping through her folds.

Jesus fuck, you think somewhere in the back of your mind. Finally, finally, finally.

You hadn't realized how much you craved the taste of Sofia until this very moment. It feels like you're starving, like you haven't eaten in ten goddamn years, and Sofia is the first meal you've been granted.

Your ministrations are messy and desperate. You can hardly think straight, overwhelmed by the taste and scent and feel of Sofia. All you do is lick and suck and moan, embracing the pure bliss you feel. The rapidly decreasing supply of oxygen in your lungs is easy to ignore when you finally have the privilege of pleasuring Sofia again.

Sofia's eyebrows furrow. You won't struggle under her. You won't look up with panicked eyes, even as she deprives you of air, even as she suffocates you.

You don't get it.

Sofia narrows her eyes and her hips buck forward. It's almost violent, the way she fucks your face, riding harder and harder. She grunts softly, losing inhibition as she watches her slickness spread all over your face.

Still, you only whine as though you're the one being pleasured.

Why don't you fucking get it.

Sofia tightens her grip in your hair, pushing your face impossibly closer against her cunt as she feels her climax approaching. She's panting harshly through her noise, controlling the means threatening to spill out of her.

Just then, your eyes slugglishly blink open and lock with hers. It's clear that you're moments away from passing out, and Sofia can only stare down at the dazed look in your eyes.

Still, there's no fear there. There's nothing but adoration.

Your eyes roll back, and your eyelids flutter shut. Sofia's breath hitches as your body goes limp under her.

It's then that she cums, her body tensing and jerking. A ragged moan escapes her as she grinds and grinds against you, using your unconscious body to draw the waves of pleasure out.

Sofia slumps off of you, sitting by your side as she recovers from the exertion. She just sits for a while, until her breathing regulates, and she gathers the courage to look over at you.

You're still passed out, but the slight rise and fall of your chest tells Sofia you are, in fact, alive.

It doesn't do much to relieve Sofia- not when there's a sick, familiar feeling of dread forming in the pit of her stomach.

No.

Sofia squeezes her eyes shut.

This isn't supposed to matter.

This doesn't mean anything.

Sofia stands, and smooths out her dress. She can't afford to have regrets; to have... things that make her question herself.

That's not her anymore.

Sofia takes a deep breath.

She squares her shoulders, and doesn't spare you a second glance as she forces herself to leave the room.

[darklcy]

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

‣ eddie's session runs longer than you thought. bored, with nothing to do, you find his shirt.

‣ eddie munson x reader | stranger things masterlist | 823 words | fluff, established relationship, idiots in love ig

‣ i havent posted him in a while and i just got to rewatching s4, so naturally-

He’d been gone far too long already.

You tried not to complain, not having the desire to suck the life out of his soul for simply engaging in his passion. Dungeons and dragons served as an enigma in your brain, its complexity never failing to swirl your thoughts in knots each time you tried learning to play. If him being late was the only self punishment for not comprehending the rules of the game, then perhaps it was justifiable.

..It was just late. And you were beyond bored.

Boredom was a lazy explanation for the feeling you were experiencing at the moment, but for lack of better word, boredom will do. Body sprawled across his mattress, Gremlins displayed in the living room television down the hall, fingernails touched skin in a pattern, as if counting sheep represented itself through your fingers. The night sky stretched further along the hours as you waited for his campaign to finish, but with the way your eyelids drooped and head bobbed, you may not be around for his return.

Laying back on your spine, ceiling coming into view, you fought the upcoming dreams with all your might to avoid slumber, wanting to greet Eddie properly the moment he stepped inside. Chin lolling to the right, a signature club shirt curiously grabbed your eye, the red faced demon poking through the gaps of his drawer. 

Huh.

Somehow that pumped a vein full of awoken energy throughout your body. Sitting back up, you crawled over to the drawer and yanked the shirt from its clenches, freeing the fabric from its prison. The demon’s eyes met yours in a sneer, and sometimes you wonder if the corners of his mouth grew each time you stared at him. Discarding your own top, you replaced it with his, the remnants of smoke and faint cologne wafting in your nostrils.

Eddie smelled like home, a sanctuary, a safe place. A bit ironic, with fire comes reassurance, in your world, that is.

The garment was a bit loose on your figure, the ends reaching just below your hips. With the canvas of your legs exposed from lack of pajamas, his shirt became your blanket and lover all in one, a figment of the real thing. This will have to do until he returns. 

Cheek pressed to the comforter, Gremlins had just barely faded out into the credits when sleep found you, tucked away and hidden in the cotton of Hellfire.

“Baabe, I’m home.”

Brass met knob when Eddie unlocked it open, enjoying the warm heat of the trailer compared to the brisk November air outside. Campaign was good, as usual. Dungeon Master certainly had its perks, even if repeating senior year didn’t. The journey to his bedroom was swift, eager to finally end his day with you by his side, how it always should be. 

However he wasn’t at all, in the slightest bit, prepared to greet you adorning his beloved club shirt, soft skin of your thighs bare, asleep comfortably in his bed. His bed. Alone. With his shirt on. And boyshorts. Oh, wow. You were going to be the death of him.

It was as if he’d been transported to the Moma, viewing a delicate, historical self portrait of an acrylic artist from the 1700s. You were a sight to behold, and for him only. His feet almost sunk into the floorboards from the sheer weight his heart plummeted against his ribs. He’d just fallen in love  all over again. How do you do it so easily?

A gentle groan emitted in your throat as you shifted. What a sweet sound. You’re so sweet. 

Crouching down towards your face, his ringed knuckle gilded hair from your eyelashes, a smile on his face at the way you stirred from the action. When your eyes awoke to meet his, his lips only stretched wider.

“Mornin', sweetheart.”

Stretching out your arms, a yawn escaped you as a sleepy, “Oh, you’re home,” uttered out in a jumbled whisper. His full palm caressed your face now, occasionally smoothing down your hair while continuing to grin at your drowsiness. He couldn’t get enough.

“Yeah, Hellfire ran a lil late. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

You shook your head into his fingers. “No, you’re fine. I was just bored.”

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he moved to sit beside you. His fingers transitioned from your cheek to the shirt on your skin, rings grazing the neckline and shoulder. Eddie had never seen anything like it, and he wore this exact thing every god damn week. 

“You look beautiful like this.”

It was as if complimenting a model, the way he spoke so carefully and tender. You gave him a look.

“..It’s comfy. I might steal it from you.”

He’d give you anything he wanted if you gave him the word. His lips captured yours in a trance, ending too quick for your liking. 

“You should. You wear it best.”

—

[lovelytsunoda]

purple haze // charles leclerc

summary: writing a novel is a long an arduous process. luckily for y/n, she has a very supportive partner in crime, and when it all works out, he's the only person she would want by her side.

pairing: charles leclerc x author reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, talk of deadlines, book referenced is a good girls guide to murder by holly jackson. gets a lil steamy towards the middle but nothing comes of it. still not sure how i feel about this one, but i havent written for charles in forever and i got an idea i really liked but i don't know if it worked out when i put it on paper.

by the time y/n closed her laptop, she felt like her fingers were going to fall off. she leaned back in her desk chair, gutted to find that the monaco cityscape outside her living room window was now pitch black, as might had fallen on the city.

her first book had been a red-wine and oasis fuelled fever dream, the last three chapters being written to ‘don’t look back in anger’. and now, the final edits were done.

“I’m so proud of you, mon tresor.” charles gushed, bringing her another glass of wine.

“the last three years are finally paying off. a good girls guide to murder is done, and the world is ready to meet pippa and ravi.” she grinned, clinking her glass against her boyfriends.

she had poured three years of her life into that book, and Charles had been by her side for all of it. through numerous rejections, edits and late night idea-vomit, nobody was prouder than charles was so see it work out for her.

and now he knew she needed a break.

taking her hand in his, he gently dragged her out of the desk chair and towards the couch, placing their wineglasses on the coffee table as he urged y/n to sit on the ground between his legs.

his hands were warm as he began to massage her shoulders, attempting to release the tension caused by the last round of edits, which she had worked on almost from sunup to sundown.

“there’s still so much to do.” she whined, tilting her head back to look up at her lover. “now there’s arcs and extra promotions and finding advance reviewers and-“

charles cut her off with a kiss. “none of that right now. right now, you and me are going to finish this bottle of wine and watch something pointless on tv.”

smiling to herself, y/n got up from the floor and moved to the leather couch, slipping seamlessly into charles' lap and nestling against his chest. his body was warm, and his sweater soft. even if his cologne was a little bit too strong, he made her feel safe. treasured.

"that sounds perfect." she hummed, gently turning his face so she could kiss him. "thank you for supporting me."

"always, my love." charles smiled before kissing her again.

SIX MONTHS LATER

it was half past five in the morning when the phone rang. charles could sleep through just about anything, but it was the vibrations of the phone against her side table that woke y/n.

she looked over at her sleeping lover, pressing a gentle kiss to the smooth skin on his shoulder blades before slipping out of bed and creeping into the hallway to answer a call from her agent, cecelia.

"cece, its five in the morning. couldn't this have waited?"

ceclia cleared her throat. "i've just heard from the american office. the preliminary numbers for the new york times list are in."

"fuck. how did we do?" she closed her eyes, holding up her crossed fingers and praying to every god she wasn't sure she believed in.

and when cecelia spoke again, she almost dropped her phone.

"okay. thank you for letting me know, cece."

she slipped back into the bedroom, bare, dry feet sinking into the plush carpet at the end of the bed before she sat down at the end of the bed, gripping the phone so tightly that her knuckles had gone white.

"mon amour." charles rasped, exhaustion in his voice as he rolled over onto his back. "what's wrong?"

"i just got a call from cecelia." she started, trying not to let her emotions show through. "she's just been on the phone with our american agent with the new york times numbers."

charles sat up, one of his warm hands going to rest on her thigh. "and?' he asked hesitantly, his piercing eyes meeting her uncertain ones in the dark.

"i made the top ten." she shouted, grin spreading all across her features.

making the new york times list had made everything worth it. all the sleepless nights when she had woken up with an idea she was scared to lose, all the rewrites, the weeks of writers block. the rejections, the aggravation, the insecurity.

this was it.

she had done it.

"i'm so proud of you." charles beamed, folding her into a hug. "i knew you could do it, my brilliant girl."

she dropped her phone on the bed, red-faced and giggly as she kissed him, allowing her hands to wander across his toned chest. "wanna show me just how much?"

THREE YEARS LATER

the theater was almost silent when the lights came up, the end credits of the final episode fading out on the screen. she held her breath, fingers gripping charles' hand so tightly that she thought she might break the fragile bones in her husband's fingers.

oh, yeah. they had gotten married about a year after her book had come out, while she was in the middle of writing as good as dead, the conclusion to the series.

since a good girls guide to murder had come out, her life had changed for the better. she felt more secure in herself and her talent, and the words had never come easier when she started writing the sequel, eager ton continue the story. she had since written two more books to complete the trilogy, as well as two standalone novels: five survive and the reappearance of rachel price. around the time that rachel price was announced, she had gotten another call from cecelia, asking if she and charles could come to london and meet with representatives from the bbc.

they wanted to turn her first book into a tv series.

she had been hands on from the beginning, throwing herself into her work and doing her best to make sure that the version of the story the readers saw on screen was the version that she had visualized when she'd first explained the storyboard to charles, the driver helping her connect everything on their living room wall with red yarn.

and now was the time. the time to see if it had all paid off. the theater was filled with minor celebrities, influencers, and the tiktokers who had made her book blow up in popularity.

it all came down this night.

"it's okay. whatever happens, you know you did your best." charles whispered in her ear, running one hand up and down her bare back. underneath the flimsy straps of her red dress.

she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath when the roar off applause began to drown her.

she rode the rush of emotions, allowing the tears of gratification and relief to ruin her mascara as she let her body go slack, resting against charles as she watched the room rise in a standing ovation for pippa and ravi.

"we did it. we made it, charles." she laughed, tilting her head up to kiss him.

"no, cherie. you did this. they're all here for you."

she watched as the event's host, a former spice girl that charles knew through his paddock connections, stepped out into the middle of the small stage set up at the front of the theater.

"and now, the moment i'm sure you've all been waiting for, a few words from y/n /y/l/n-leclerc!"

she wiped her eyes and fixed her hair, taking a deep breath before she walked across the stage, taking the microphone from geri halliwell, and turning to face the crowd.

in the front row, there was charles. her one true love. her biggest supporter.

and in that moment, she truly allowed herself to believe that she had made it.

[sunfyresrider]

Love & Ruin 2

Synopsis: After being hidden away for most of your life your mother decided to stop being protective. However, there is one rule you cannot break, DO NOT associate with your uncle Aegon. Of course, it's the first thing you do, and you both quickly realize you will be each other's inevitable downfalls.

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x You (daughter of Rhaenyra) Warnings: cursing, smut, dubcon, more smut, manipulation, possible murder, obsessive tendencies, incest, SEVERE mental illness, helaemond is canon, failed plots, a disaster wedding, just targ things, too many warnings to count honestly Word count: 10k Note: I am a bad person. Im sorry it took me so long to finish but my life is a cluster fuck of bad and worse and it is a blessing I havent yeeted myself into hell. Pt three is alr in the works unlike this one. PS Helaena's and Aemond's plan did work. I just didn't directly mention what it was...yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy (if you're still interested) Tags: @lovelykhaleesiii @caffein8me @llearlert @introverbatim @ladybug0095 @yazzzmints @heavenly1927 @rinirinse @aelora-a (srry it didn't let me tag some of you.)

“Be quiet,” Aegon growled into the ear of the whore he chose to warm his bed this morning. The squelching sounds of his thrusts slamming into her cunt echoed throughout the room. She stifled a moan and dug her teeth into the pillow below her head. Her voice did nothing, only reminded him he wasn’t you. Aegon tried to get girls who resembled you but none pleased him the same. 

Today was an especially bad day for Aegon and mayhaps he was taking it out on the whore too much. Her cheeks were stained red from his slaps and surely her cervix would be bruised by how hard he was pounding himself into her. He had good reason though; you were returning home.

It took five years, but he almost was able to move forward with his life. You still plagued him in his dreams and there was a constant tugging at his heart everytime your name was brought up. You simply existing reminded him of the only time he was ever happy, and he clung to the memory like a baby clings to their mother's tit. 

His family was very determined to keep you away. It worked successfully, he hadn’t heard nor seen from you at all. Every letter, every flight, every potential unsavory way of stalking your whereabouts was immediately dispelled. That was only within the first year, at some point he gave up. Aegon knew you would come back at some point; you were in love with him. But days, weeks, months, and years passed and still he received nothing. 

The idea they had turned you against him murdered the last bit of hope he had. It was one of the many things that formed him into the ‘monster’ everyone believed him to be. The first was being born the first son yet being ignored for his elder sister his entire life. The night at Driftmark was the second trauma that seared a mark into his heart and brother's face forever. The third was the forceful marriage to his sister.

Aegon scarcely remembers that day or the night afterwards. He used milk of the poppy to ease his mind to the point he could hardly stand during the vows… he doesn’t know if he actually attended the first dance. He does remember the bedding and it makes his skin crawl. 

He was forced to walk into and perform his own rape. He didn’t want it and would never want it. There was no daydream or drug strong enough to make him forget. It was awful in every sense of the word. Aegon cried during it and then he cried after it. No matter how much he scrubbed himself in the bathing chambers he could not free himself of the feeling of disgust. Then there was the overwhelming guilt that came after. 

Aegon never touched her again, never really interacted with his own children. Why would he? He was an accomplice in her suffering as much as his own. She didn’t want to marry him either, she didn’t want to bear his children. He could never be a good husband, lover or anything of the sort to Helaena. She deserved it, he thought, to have someone who could care for her. Someone who could love her like a wife… not like a sibling.

But that would never be him and it ate him alive like the disease killing their father. She was too kind, too pure for him or any other man at court. She was stupid, yes, but with a larger heart than any of the women he’s met combined. Yet, he never brought himself to do his duty to stay loyal and cherish her like Alicent told him to. The only good thing he ever did for Hel was leaving her alone, it made her happy to be free of him. In truth, it would make everyone happier if the world was rid of him completely. 

Maybe his life wasn’t over yet, maybe there was still a shred of hope for him left in the world. The reason he used to be happy was returning to him. Even if it was to marry another man… He could sort that out easily enough. When Aegon first heard the news, he wasn’t as calm. He 

He could take back what was his and become the man everyone wants him to be… Or he’ll drag you down into his depravity with him. It didn’t matter, either option was a severe improvement from the existence he was currently suffering. 

“Are you ready to be back?” Jacaerys inquired whilst trying to tame the loose curls on his head. The carriage ride from the doc to the keep had proved to be dreadfully long and boring. Luke was seeping anxiety that made the entire car tense. ‘Aemond, Aemond, Aemond, he’s gonna take my eye! He’s gonna kill me if I go back!’ The chants of a scared kid really did threaten to send you over the edge. ‘Just apologize, Lucerys... He’s not going to do anything while grandsire is alive. Nothing is going to happen, just say sorry before it does.’ 

Everything you said fell on deaf ears. His fear was expected, he took his uncle's eye and received no punishment. Granted, after hearing both sides it seemed inevitable for someone to get gravely injured. You still genuinely believed or at least convinced yourself a simple apology might just keep Luke alive for a few more years. “No brother, I would rather be at home,” you muttered in a near whisper. 

Jace, always the obedient son, was oozing confidence completely unbothered by the situation. He learned that from Daemon, never let them see you falter, especially the Hightower cunts. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?” 

Your heart clenched, a sorrowful reminder of your childhood beginning to boil to the surface. A whirlwind of memories threatening to break you. 

You learned how truly codependent you were on your uncle. Without him you had become a shell of whatever it was you once were. Your insecurities reigned supreme as you had an insatiable need for approval from everyone. That meant doing everything you were asked and then some to become the greatest version of yourself you could be. You took care of people, especially your brothers whom you felt the full burden for. You were the eldest and you allowed them into a situation that got them hurt and another child maimed. 

It wasn’t just your insecurities; your moods would take a turn quicker than before. At the drop of a hat, you could be raging or hysterically crying. Sometimes you didn’t even understand why. You became obsessive over little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. For example: how your dresses were fitted, how your hair was styled, and what you ate and drank. It wasn’t in the front of your mind at the time, but you did things in the way he always preferred. 

Without him, deciding on things became hard. You never needed to think before because he did it for you. Not only that but you became a chronic liar. It wasn’t on purpose, sometimes things would just slip out. You were great at denying any problems you had and chalking them up to your blood moon. You denied any relationship with Aegon and defended him more than he deserved. Especially since he so carelessly abandoned you. No letters, no visits, he left you with fucking nothing. You started to convince yourself you never loved him; it was just pity. You had a burning desire to rescue him and mistook it for genuine affections. 

Four years ago, almost to this very day the invitation to the prince and princess’s wedding had just reached your doorstep. You learned that day just how much you did love him because when the letter was read you cried so much you vomited. You stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped doing all the things you love and rotted in your bed waiting for the pain to subside… Or for the stranger to take you. 

The image of him touching her the same way he did you, the idea of him whispering the same things he did to you, the way she would cry out his name like you did… It made you want to rip your hair out and peel your skin off. She probably had an extremely elegant dress; the throne room was probably filled with music and guests, and they would ride their dragons together to show off their union… You tore all the clothes he liked to shreds and punched a hole in your mirror… 

Originally, you never had any disdain for your exceedingly kind and misunderstood aunt but now it was pure untamed hatred. The jealousy was incredible, truly you would be confined to a prison cell if you acted on the things you thought up. 

You could kill both of them and end the war before it even started. You prayed she would miscarry the twins, it didn’t happen. You prayed he would get too drunk and die from alcohol poisoning, obviously it didn’t happen. You prayed the entire keep would be set on fire and everyone within it would die burning in flames just as your father did… it did not. 

You were never good enough for him. He abandoned you and left you to rot after taking something so important from you. You were a fool, a naive idiot. The fear of being abandoned personified ever more when your mother gave birth to two legitimate children. Everyone was going to abandon you and it was driving you insane. You had mastered the art of pretending, no one was able to tell what was underneath the surface. 

Jacaerys was really the only person who noticed the change. He was the only one who saw through your lies and facade. And he was the only one who genuinely helped you overcome the complete insanity you had sunk into. He pulled you out from drowning in a sea of madness and kept you afloat ever since. In turn, you felt a little guilty for your wicked thoughts and desires, but you were atoning for them by good will and actions. 

Still, sometimes late at night when you were alone, he would come back. The memories would come flooding in and sleep would evade you. He had burned a scar into your heart that never fully healed and probably never would. According to your mother who said the first heartbreak is always the worst and most memorable. You didn’t want to come back. You didn’t ever want to see Aegon Targaryen again. 

“No, it’s because- ” You hit your head on the back of the car, knocking the air out of your lungs. The carriage came to a halt, catapulting Lucerys forward into the other seat. Jacaerys bursted into uncontrollable laughter as he rubbed his forehead from the impact. 

It was a great start to a visit, a crash landing. Surely, not foreshadowing the rest of your adventure. As you unpiled from the carriage a welcome party stood there waiting for you. It was unexpected, seeing your grandsire there in decent health, you heard he was much worse. 

Then there were the Hightowers, looking as if they wanted to be anywhere but here. Your eyes scanned over them one by one, Alicent wore her plastered fake smile as usual, Otto stood too stiffly and only looked at Daemon, Aemond looked ready to murder you all. He was far different from what you remembered, tall, slender, and handsome even with one eye. 

Then there was Helaena… Completely disassociated from whatever was happening and mumbling under her breath. You smiled, the rage you felt before when you imagined her was gone. You had actually healed and successfully moved forward. This was good, so great you could even hug her… 

Until your eyes moved to her left. The sunken feeling in your chest blossomed into a new monster threatening to devour you. Your smile faded; your heart began erratically pumping blood to all parts of your body. Your knees locked in place trying to keep your balance. 

Aegon… Aegon was only ten feet away and yet there seemed to be miles between you. It was a joke, a great joke, he looked more gorgeous than he ever had. His hair was cut to frame his face perfectly, his jaw was more defined, his dark circles brought out the beautiful sea blue that surrounded his pupils. 

The smile that adorned his face was larger than any you had seen him wear prior. His eyes twinkled with childlike glee. The corset you wore became suffocatingly tight and the heat in King’s Landing began to make your head spin. Your breathing was rapid, a million emotions coursing their way through your head. 

Aegon took a step down the stairs, your body wanted to flee but you were frozen in time. Another step, all the air in your body left you. A third step made all the bile in your stomach rise to your throat. His feet touched the ground, and he strode towards you, the world started to spin, your mind racing with the worst possible outcomes. 

You blinked, for a mere second. You reminded yourself it had been five years; he had no hold on you anymore. He was a monster, a terrible man and a worse son. Aegon was not going to get under your skin, you were not going to falter in front of him. You were better now, you moved on, you were mentally healthy… 

You opened your eyes, inhaling a deep breath. He was one pace in front of you, “Niece.” 

Disappointment, Aegon was riddled with it every day and today was no expectation. He was so excited his soul wanted to jump out of its skin. But no, the second he approached you passed out and all the sudden he was the villain. What could he have possibly done a foot away to make you faint? 

Unless you were too excited to see him, your heartbeat too fast and you fainted. It would make the most sense, reuniting with the person you truly love would send anyone over the edge. It almost made him faint when he first laid eyes upon you. 

Gods you were so much more beautiful than he could have imagined. You had grown into a gorgeous woman, easily the prettiest one at court. Your eyes sparkled like diamonds, your hair flowed perfectly down your face, and your cheeks still flushed bright pink when you saw him.  

Your dress hugged your figure in all the right places and the things he imagined laid beneath made him insatiably horny. Control, he had to remind himself it’d been years and he needed that. It was hard considering the two days you’d been here he had only seen one glimpse. One quick glimpse in the courtyard before you were stolen away again. 

Your chambers were only a few hallways away and he could see you anytime he wanted. And yet, Aegon had to plot when to corner you. There was not only a hoard of guards following you around every step you took but Jacaerys clung to your skirts like a lost orphan. 

So, he waited and waited… and fucking waited until he was practically ripping the hair from his skull. The lack of your presence was okay on the first day, the second it was tolerable but by the third day it became suspicious. Impatient and spoiled, his mother’s words rang true more and more each day. 

It was increasingly clear that it wasn’t just them keeping you from him, but you were putting extra care into avoiding him. What did he do wrong? The stalking? The letters? The gifts that were never opened. It was all obvious professions of love… Why would you be uncomfortable with that?

Aegon was nursing another goblet of wine as he sunk to the floor. His face felt wet as if he were crying… Was he crying? His body to the point of numbness he could not tell any longer. Sadly, it seemed the wine was not working to cure the ever-disheartening thoughts in his mind. 

You were going to get married and forget all about him. They hadn’t given him a single opportunity to attempt to carve his way back into your heart and most likely weren’t going to. What was the reason for living at this point? The one thing he yearned to touch was so close yet so far. 

He scoffed at himself. Aegon was no tragic poet, but he was beginning to sound like one. It was the alcohol, a new type probably causing his episode. He went to grasp the corner of the table to stand up, but his legs could no longer withstand his weight. The contents on the table along with his own body fell to the floor. 

Not one of his proudest moments to date.  

“You’re pathetic,” an irritating voice laced with superiority drew him out of his head. “Brother, have you come to visit your- I mean my children? They aren’t here.” Aemond clenched his jaw once, twice until he let out a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with Aegon, there was no winning against someone fueled by pure delusions. 

He would never come to see his- Aegon’s children in his room. They would be with their sweet mother far away from the monstrosity they called dad. “We’re all being forced to attend her wedding tourney.” 

“When?” Aegon’s eyes lit up and the sunken expression finally lifted. “At dawn,” Aemond took a step back before the smell of wine, sweat and uncleanliness of three days seeped into his nose. “For the love of the seven take a bath!” 

Hope, there was still hope left in the world! All of the sudden he had awakened, the whimpering pathetic mess he was a few moments ago was long forgotten. The gears in his brain began turning… 

As Aemond strode out of Aegon’s chambers a new plan formed into the mind of the monster himself… “Little brother,” he sang with a cruelty only Aegon could possess. “Will our dear uncle Gwayne be participating?” 

-

Aemond did not loathe his brother as much as everyone believed he did. Yes, he was jealous Aegon the wastrel was first born, and he was not. Yes, he was jealous Helaena was forced to marry the pig instead of him. No, he did not blame his brother for any of this. Solidarity was exceedingly important in times like these, future succession wars and all. 

What he learned was, Aegon hated being married to Helaena as much as she did. Aegon didn’t want to be king and would gladly give it to Aemond if the time came. Lastly, as sad as Aegon could be he was fiercely loyal to his family. If it came down to it Aemond knew his brother would die for them… or take an eye instead. 

“Has he stopped wallowing in his sorrow?” Even when she insulted people Helaena’s voice sounded like angels in his ear. “No, though he has come up with another borderline war crime plan.” She let out a deep sigh as she fiddled with the needle she used to sew. “Should I ask?” 

“He’s urging Gwayne to kill the Fiance before they have a chance to wed.” Helaena stifled a laugh; she should be offended he would dishonor her or even vengeful since her husband dare tried to intervene on another woman’s affairs. Instead, she bit her lip from smiling, “I should be glad she is not as deranged as him or I may not be here today.” 

Aemond rose from his seat and sat down next to her. His long fingers gently caressed the side of her face, pushing back the strands that obscured his view of her violet eyes. “I would kill her before she could ever lift a finger.” 

Helaena gently tugged Aemond’s hands away from her face, cupping them in her lap. “Aems you are far too serious. She’s still as sweet as a rose I hear…” 

There was a sudden silence between them, not uncomfortable in the slightest but eerily still, nonetheless. If Helaena was being honest with herself, she felt terribly for you. She couldn’t imagine what pain he had caused or what exactly he had done to cause you to faint at the mere sight of him. 

She could imagine, Helaena simply wished not to burden herself with those thoughts. You were her savior in a weird sense of the word. Because of your existence her brother did not attempt to bed her or force heirs upon her, he did not touch her, he did not bother her unless requested of him. You kept his mind preoccupied, so she wasn’t completely trapped in a horrid marriage such as her mothers. Aegon was a good brother and only a brother… Sometimes she worried what would happen if you ceased to exist. 

Still, she was trapped in a marriage. Aemond and Helaena had two vastly different reasons for wanting you around. Helaena wanted to see Aegon content, happy even if they were lucky. And if things happened the way it did in her dreams… Their marriage would be annulled and you two could wed and she could continue to do as she pleased with the father of her children. A fairytale but she was known for being the dreamer. 

Aemond simply wanted his brother to get off his fucking ass and do something with his life. He wanted him to stop whoring, to stop pushing away duties, and to start taking matters seriously. The only way he was going to do that was if his favorite toy was promptly returned to him. You also kept Aegon far away from his beloved Helaena, that was merely a bonus. 

If he had to choose, obviously he would have not chosen his brother to become obsessed with one of the bastards, it couldn’t be helped anymore. The seeds of whatever drug Aegon made you take to enjoy him had already been planted. The spell you used to seduce him had already begun working. 

At the very least you defended them… somewhat. It was enough to make him wish you were dead even less. He had to remind himself, though you were a bastard and related to his sworn enemy, you were also just a woman. As his mother once said, ‘all women are created in the image of the mother and to be spoken of with reverence… And to be treated as such!’ 

Aemond let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “We’re going to find a convoluted way to help him, aren’t we?” Helaena hummed to herself for a moment, was there any way they could really help you? “Do you believe she is distant because she believes he abandoned her?” 

They gazed at each other for a moment, a silent agreement. You were easy to read, at least to the dreamer herself… “Yes Aems, I think we are.”

The dress you were forced into was unbearably tight, the summer sun had seeped through the red fabric and your blood felt as if it was boiling. The royal stand was too crowded, too many unwelcome faces and bodies suffocating you. The noise of horses and knights preparing to show off for your favor made your ears ache. Unbearable, that was the best way you could describe your current predicament. 

The fainting spell was enough to have your mother confine you to chambers. She knew, your brothers knew, the Hightowers knew, everyone in the entire keep could see through you both. At every single turn you were specifically swayed far away from your uncle. Absolutely no contact, especially since you were to be married. 

That’s what the entire day was for, to celebrate you being sold off to a son of Dorne. If the heat in King’s Landing doesn’t kill you first, then surely the sun there will do the job. You hoped your death would come sooner rather than late. 

If the day could not go any worse the sound of someone taking a seat next to you caused you to flinch. You could smell him, practically taste the wine emitting off of him. Then there was the seat to your left, the scent of flowers filled your nose. Your eyes stayed glued to your hands. You didn’t dare move or breathe… 

A gentle hand that was as soft as a feather pillow touched yours. “Don’t be nervous.” Helaena, of all the people in the world you did not expect her to say such. Especially now, since you were separating husband and wife or did, they purposely do this to torment you further? “If I’m sitting in your place I can move, princess.” 

You kept your head turned to her, trying your hardest to ignore the one sitting far too close to your right. Where was your mother? Your brothers? Where was your family to rescue you? “Nonsense! I purposely asked Jacaerys to let me sit next to you.” To the right, you could feel two violet eyes burning holes into the back of your skull. 

“How lovely,” you muttered out trying to find your family from the corner of your eyes. How in the seven hells was he next to you? You turned your body towards the crowd, an invisible shield in your mind blocking you from turning the other way. 

Behind you, your entire family was in the row above staring daggers into Aegon. Of course, he stole Lucerys seat before he had a chance to protest. The sound of trumpets blaring, and the weakened voice of your grandsire distracted you, momentarily from the hell you were living in. 

A warm and soft hand was placed over your own. Dragging your nails from tarnishing the skin around them. “Afraid your husband to be is going to lose?” It felt as though a bolt of lightning shot down your back. You bit your lip, no you wanted him to lose and potentially be stabbed in a duel. You actually want to be stabbed too right now.

Milk of the poppy was your savior. That’s what had been prescribed to keep you grounded. It’s why you’re not currently on the floor unconscious. It's why you decided to engage in conversation instead of keeping your mouth shut. It's why you let his hands caress your own and bask in the warmth they provided. It wasn’t you; it was the medication. 

“Why aren’t you participating in the tourney?” You could feel a smile curve onto his face, though you swore not to look. “Why would I? Do you want me to compete for your favor?” You turned to look at him, shocked by the accusation you would want him of all people competing for you. That was a fantasy of children, a dead one at that. 

A mistake was made when you glanced at him. Gods, he was beautiful in the most pathetic way possible. The dark circles, the smug smile, the unruly hair, the piercing eyes and the jaw with just a tad of baby fat encompassing it. You forgot his lady wife sitting next to you, you forgot your family watching you. For a moment, it was just you looking at the pretty monster who ruined you. A shimmer of hope, a memory of childhood championship bubbled to the surface. 

“No Aegon, I think you would lose,” you jested. His eyes sparkled; his subtle grin turned into a wide blinding smile. “I think I already have your favor.” Your mouth parted to speak, cheeks brimming red from the implication.

Down below the sounds of cracking shields and screams of pain stifled by armor were becoming the loudest noise. A Blackwood had just begun a duel with a Bracken and… his entrails were staining the tan colored sand a dark shade of crimson. You felt bile rising up in your throat as you unconsciously tightened your drip on Aegon’s hand. An act that didn’t go unnoticed and was quickly returned. 

“Not a fan of bloodshed?” His voice sounded softer, almost kind versus his usual unserious tone. He was staring at the side of your face and his eyes shone with mild concern combined with amusement. Aegon was always one for violence, not you.  By no means were you against it, seeing the insides of someone’s stomach simply didn’t suit your fancy. 

“And the day grows ugly…” Helaena let out a deep sigh as she gazed at the scene below. Her voice made you quickly realize how disrespectful you were being towards their marriage. In a second, your hand was ripped out of his grasp and placed firmly on your lap. Avoid, you avoided both of their looks and your gaze moved strictly forward. 

You could have sworn you saw a flash of Aemond’s eyepatch and his fingers patting at her knee. Oddly enough, you were very suspicious of brother and sister relationships considering the family you were born into. Thank heavens you were amongst the normal ones… almost. 

“You’re not wrong, Hel. You’re not wrong.” Aegon’s voice had lost all its original sympathetic tone as his lips formed into a pout like a spoiled brat. “Princess! Your favor would surely help me win this tournament if you could be so kind.” 

The sound of your fiancés voice made you want to sink into the abyss of your mind and let it swallow you. Maybe even feed yourself to Vhagar much like your late aunt Laena did. Aegon looked worse, enraged and annoyed to the utmost level. 

His body moved slowly towards your fiancée, and you swore if looks could kill he would be dead. You didn’t flinch or falter this time. You no longer frowned at the sight of the man you were supposed to marry. In fact, you were bubbling with joy.

The second Martell son held a huge smile while he waited for you to place your favor on his lance. You did your best to make a spectacle out of it, wishing him luck as loudly as you could. Your mother was smiling proudly, surely congratulating herself on a fine match she had made. 

She didn’t understand, you weren’t happy because of him. You were happy to see Aegon leaking envy from his pores with the most miserable look on his face. Now he was feeling exactly what you did and it felt fucking fantastic. You gracefully sat back in place with a smile that went ear to ear. 

“Would you like to place a bet on who will win, uncle?” He shifted in place, his eyes following the black mare your fiancée rode. “I don’t intend on betting coins, niece.” An awfully smug look creeped onto his face. “What are we betting?” 

Aegon leaned into you, so his mouth nearly brushed over your ear. His breath was heavy and laced with confidence. His whispers sent a shiver up your spine that glued you in place. “If Gwayne Hightowers knocks your beloved husband off his horse I get to claim you in front of everyone.” 

“…”

Your breath hitched in your throat as the world paused. Heat rose from the tips of your toes to the very top of your head, radiating in all directions. The drugs were no longer keeping your very unstable emotions at bay. Your cheeks were not just flushed by the idea but from the crushing reminder he was not yours to claim. He was stolen from you and didn’t mind until you showed back up. No letters, no secret rendezvous, no gifts on name days or holidays… To Aegon it was always just a game. 

A game he was still fucking playing at your own expense. Could he not see he had done enough? He had ruined what sliver of self-respect you had years ago? What else was there for him to take besides your life. Your original despair turned into something hateful, “My husband will win and when he does you have to stay away from me for as long as I’m here.” 

His mouth hung agape as he was trying to debate this completely unfair bet. Aegon was going to make a jest, defend himself or anything really before the trumpets blared loud enough for the deaf to hear. “Hmph,” you turned in your seat, stone faced, chin held high, completely ignoring his presence to watch the knights begin to mount their horses.

Ser Gwayne Hightower was wearing a suit of armor and a green cape. Gwayne’s helm was in the shape of a lantern… It looked completely ridiculous. His horse wasn’t stupid, it was a powerful white charger, and his lance appeared to be held firmly in his grip. From all the stories you’ve heard, he was an amazing knight. He’d won many tourneys in the past and nearly knocked down Daemon once. 

Your fiancée was on the other side, and he certainly did stand out… The golden decor on his armor was perhaps a bit much and he refused to wear a helm. His horse was beautiful albeit not as powerful as the charger. It wasn’t looking very good.

You were too busy praying to the seven for mercy when the two horses took off. In a flash their lances connected, and poor Quentyn was nearly thrown off. You heard a snicker from the corner, and you whipped your head to stare at the smirk plastered all over Aegon’s face. “Heh look at that!” No fucking way, no way in the names of any god would he get to do anything with you. “Fuck you, uncle,” the venom laced words seeped out of your mouth before you could contain them. Your perfect facade was beginning to break so quickly. 

“That can be arranged.” You gritted your teeth and your nostrils flared. Seeing him win in anyway made you want to snatch a sword and shove it right between his fucking… 

“We have a winner!” 

The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, and you forgot whatever your last thought was. You stood up from your seat to gaze at the ground and surely enough… 

“Quentyn Martell has won the favor of the Princess!” 

Heh heh heh…. You turned to look at him with a smirk only the divine could wear, “I win.” 

He miss stepped, Aegon had completely misread the situation at hand. Her mind had been completely poisoned by those… those cunts! And Gwayne completely fumbled the fucking tourney. This added more layers to the issues already at hand. Firstly, her husband needed to go and fast. Secondly, he had to untaint her mind. Thirdly, how the hell was he going to keep her here with him? Aegon only had a single day and night to do it… 

CRASH

Another empty goblet of wine was thrown into the wall. The small shards covered the floor like winter snow tainted by red droplets of wine. The prince was raging and drinking… ceaselessly. “For the love of the seven will you sit down!” Aemond watched unamused, on the edge of storming out himself at this display. It was getting annoying how easily irritated his brother was becoming. Aegon stomped across, “We have to kill him… Preferably sooner rather than late.” 

“We could tell the truth about her virtue and have a Septon annul the marriage… avoid making any unnecessary enemies.” Aegon pivoted to stare at Aemond, face void of any signs of agreement. “Yes, and besmirch her reputation in the process… Ha! That will surely make her crawl into my bed.” 

Aemond really fucking hated sarcasm above all forms of conversation. “Oh, great manipulative tactician, what exactly were you thinking?” His steps paused as he toyed with the knife he kept on belt. He wasn’t a genius nor was he overly capable of manipulation like his grandfather…

“It can only work if she is obsessed with me again.” The younger brother let out a groan, rubbing his face with both his hands. “What exactly are you planning to do?” 

A wicked smirk curled its way onto his lips. His pupils momentarily turned dark, “Not I, dear brother, what are you going to do.” Aemond lowered his hands, so his eye picked through, raising an eyebrow. 

—

“This won’t do,” Rhaenyra declared as she tossed another necklace laced with jewels onto the floor of your chambers. “Mother!” you gaped as the expensive piece fell to the floor. She pursed her lips together, fingers grazing the delicate jewelry laid before you. “My first born, my only daughter is getting married… Tacky crystals won’t do.” You sunk deeper into your chair, twirling your wet hair in between your fingers. 

Rhaenyra closely examined a few more pieces, none of which suited her exquisite taste. She turned to you, her eyebrows creasing together. “You look more pale than usual.” You looked up at her and her eyes were laced with concern. One thing about your mother is that you could never lie to her. She knew you more than you knew yourself. The slightest bit of discomfort she could snuff out and exile it from your mind. 

“I haven’t been sleeping well as of late.” Her gentle hands went to comb through your hair. “If you changed your mind and don’t wish to get married, I could always have Daemon, take care of it.” You choked up a laugh, “threatening murder on my wedding day? How very festive.” 

A small smile made her lips curve upwards. She let out a breath, plucking a necklace off the counter and holding it to your neck. “Is it him?” The dragon necklace made of diamonds laced with gold details seemed to taunt you. “No, he hasn’t bothered me at all.” A bold-faced lie that your mother could see through instantaneously. Rhaenyra wrapped the necklace around your throat and clasped it in the back. “Really? He seemed to bother you at the tourney.” 

The necklace seemed to be choking you though it wasn’t tight at all. It would have been something you wore if you were getting married to him instead. A golden dragon paying homage to Sunfyre… “Just playful banter. Honestly it went far better than expected.” 

She looked as if she was about to contest what you said but three knocks at the door caught both your attention. It slowly creaked open revealing a maid no older than fifteen. She stood meekly in the entrance shifting eyes between your mother and yourself. 

“I didn’t mean to disturb you; the king requested your presence.” Your mother raised her brow, questioning the situation at hand. You gave a nearly unnoticeable nod, reassuring her everything was all right. She clapped her hands together, “You’re not disturbing anyone! My love I’ll return shortly.”

Rhaenyra strided out the door with the confidence only a queen could possess. You envied the way she carried herself no matter the situation. You slumped back down into your chair staring at yourself in the grandiose mirror. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having Daemon rid you of your husband… If anything, he would probably take pride in having something to hold over your head.

But a war was brewing, it was an inevitable fact that no one could deny and soon it would be impossible to ignore. You needed the dornish alliance, and you were the perfect bargaining chip… Curse the seven for making you a woman. 

“You look like you’re in agony. Already getting the wedding blues?” It’s no use asking how he snuck in, it’s no use asking why he was here, and it’s absolutely no fucking use to start panicking. “Uncle, I thought we had an agreement.” His steps were light, almost frolicking to stand behind your seat in front of the vanity. Aegon’s face was the ideal image of serenity, you couldn’t say the same for yourself. 

“It’s your wedding day! Surely, I can offer my congratulations on this joyous day.” There wasn’t an honest way you could describe the pain within your chest. It felt as if a blade had carved a hole within your heart that refused to heal. A dark abyss threatening to swallow you whole. He wasn’t meant to be happy; you were supposed to be cheery. Aegon was meant to pin after you until he died… Not move on and get married, have children, and celebrate your own wedding. 

You didn’t feel the tears quietly falling from your eyes or the way your lip was quivering. His hand moved to graze your shoulder, but you jumped out of your seat, snapping your head back to face him. “Don’t touch me!” He put his hands up in mock surrender, “W-woah…”

“Did you come here to torment me some more? Do you revel watching me be so miserable?” He stumbled back, muttering some incoherent apology that fell on deaf ears. “You abandoned me! You left me like a dog and went to go playhouse with your perfect fucking family, perfect fucking wife and two perfect children.” 

One of the many things you were shouting must have triggered something within him. Aegon grabbed your shoulders with such force you almost buckled under their grip. He shook you like a child would shake their pet if it stopped listening. “Perfect? Have you become fucking delusional? What part of a forced marriage to your sister sounds perfect to you?!” 

“Let me go! Don’t- fucking touch me!” You shouted in between sobs. “No! You’re telling me you’ve been ignoring me for years because you’re fucking jealous?” You swatted at his face, attempting to grab him by his hair to pull him down. Poor idea, Aegon always thought violence was exciting. Somewhere amidst the fight you ended up wrestling on the ground shouting curses at one another. 

“I hate you! I would never be jealous of you!” Aegon shiftly straddled you and began fighting to grab your wrists again. To make it all the more unbearable the bastard was smiling. “Bullshit! It’s seeping off of you.” You bit down on his hand that came just a little too close to your mouth. He growled, slamming on wrists behind your head. “Seven hells will you calm down and listen!” 

You writhed underneath him, albeit with less screams of curses. This rather pathetic display went on for only another minute before he forced his lips onto yours. It was rough, mainly teeth clashing together and lips fighting against one another. Part of you wished it could continue, to relive your past one more time before you were sold off. 

The other part of you bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Aegon relented, a droplet of blood staining his swollen bottom lip. Whatever spell he had put on you had worked; you were quiet and unusually still. “Look at me.” You turned your head to face the wall, refusing to be trapped by those damned eyes. “Look at me!” Begrudgingly, after being shouted at, you looked at him. “My marriage is not happy. I swear on my own life I only bedded her once. I was so drunk I can’t even remember if it truly happened…” 

“More lies… You have two children.” He scoffed, looking around the room as if asking the seven for patience. “Oh, for the love of- Do you really think those are mine? Just look at them!” Aegon appeared unbelievably desperate for you to believe him. His eyes frantically searching yours for any comfort… 

The twins did appear more similar to one brother than the other… Jaehaera herself was a spitting image of Helaena only. “I don’t believe you…” His face dropped as if you had taken an arrow to his heart. “But it wouldn’t matter if I did. I’m getting married tonight.” A foolish course of action on your part because you gave him hope. A dangerous thing if given to the wrong people and he was by far the wrong person. 

He pressed his mouth against you once more, this time his soft lips caressed your own gently. The taste of wine and iron coated your tastebuds, and it wasn’t at all displeasing. It was comforting, like a hug from an old friend. He pulled his right hand away from your wrist, almost giving you time to escape. But the second your arm moved he grabbed it with his left. A gentle, almost comfortable, kiss was turning into a desperate one. 

Aegon’s tongue slid into your mouth doing circles with your own. Your breaths quickened as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and then kissing it before letting go again. His hands slid down to your thighs, cupping them firmly in his warm palms and massaging their shape. You shivered when his fingers brushed against your most sensitive area, it had been so long since anyone had touched you. 

The wedding you were supposed to be attending today became a distant memory as he kissed you senseless. His lips trailed across your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his nose grazed yours again you found yourself trembling with need. 

“You have missed me,” he whispered breathlessly. You wanted to say no, that your body was betraying you but when his fingers grazed your unclothed cunt all you could mutter was “ah, ah, ah~”

His tongue flicked out and traced up the side of your neck, then back down. He slipped his tongue inside of your ear, and then swallowed down all of your words. His fingers began gently teasing at your clit, sliding between your wet folds, rubbing it painstakingly slow. You whimpered into his mouth, begging him to do more.

Aegon wasn’t supposed to give it all to you so easily but… Forcing in a few fingers was far from all he could do. He began thrusting his fingers in and out of your slick folds, making sure to tease your clit each time. His eye had a wicked gleam to them watching you come undone underneath him, “you think you’ll be happy with another man? You think he’ll be able to please you like I do?” 

You opened your mouth but all that came out was a muffled cry. “No one knows your body like I do. No one can ever please you like I do.” His fingers moved swifter curling up to hit the sweet spot inside of you. Your legs buckled around him as you began to moan ceaselessly. A wicked smile took over his features, “be honest with yourself everytime you try to fuck another man you’ll be imagining me, my lips, my tongue, my fingers and my cock inside of you.” 

Your arms fell limply by your sides, the world spinning in circles as a delicious haze descended upon you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his fingers as he continued to push them deeper inside of you. “I’ve already ruined you, what other man could want you?  Who do you belong to? Say it!” 

“Y-You! Aegon! I belong to you.” You cried out in pleasure, your voice echoing through the room. He pressed his lips against you once more, swallowing all the noises you made as your cunt tightened around his thick fingers. “That’s a good little girl,” He purred as your orgasm washed over you.

“Aegon…” You breathed, your head lolling to the side as he pulled his fingers out of your quivering pussy. He sat up, face returning to its usual expression of complete nonchalant. “I’ll give you time to get all dressed up, recite vows you do not mean with a stranger, dance until your heart's content and then I’m taking back what’s rightfully mine.” 

He leaped off of you swiftly, lazily fixing his hair and wiping the blood from his mouth. You propped yourself up on your elbows, “What in the seven hells?” Aegon smiled at you, but it wasn’t one of genuine joy. It was sick with cruel eyes behind it. “You’ll see.” 

The seeds of doubt had been planted into your mind and had already begun to sprout. The once joyous occasion was quickly turning into a fucking nightmare. To be Frank, you really wish you were dead instead of standing up here reciting vows you did not mean. It was awkward, unbelievably awkward. For five years your beloved had been pining for you and you were too blind to see it. 

Or it was all a sick joke being played on you. Which one was worse you did not know. Your entire family stood there, smiling, your mother nearly on the verge of tears seeing her only daughter preparing to start a family of her own… Gods, is this how Aegon felt all these years knowing he was the disappointment? You had been completely soiled and yet here you stand with your new husband… Aegon’s scent and markings weren’t even fully off of you! 

The entire ceremony was eerily calm. No random bursts of violence or protests to your union.  Which means your uncle may or may not intend to murder and or maim this man tonight. Any sound of mind woman would be sick at the thought and run for aid… Obviously you were not at all that type of girl. Currently you were jumping out of your skin waiting for him to finally arrive and rescue you. 

The only issue was, he never did show up. Not for the first kiss, not for the first dance, not for the speech his father was barely able to make or the feast itself… Did he intend to ignore you until it was all over? 

____________________________________

Aegon was unbelievably late to the wedding celebration. It was on purpose; he had a few loose strings he needed to tie before he arrived. For once he was sober and painstakingly polite as he walked in. It is fair to mention he had the servants meticulously fix his normal disheveled appearance so he could make an impression on you. 

When Aegon first entered the great hall, his eyes were immediately drawn to the center of the room, where a grand table adorned in the finest gold sits on a raised dais. The royal table is flanked on either side by rich red tapestries, ornately embroidered with the sigils of the houses respectively. If only he could burn all of the dornish banners with Sunfyre.

As he moved throughout the room, Aegon was struck by the attention to detail. Everywhere you looked, you saw the sign of the union between two powerful houses, a testament to the joyous occasion for which this room has been decked out. It was fucking disgusting and Aegon wanted to puke on it.

The throne room was filled to the brim with Lords and Ladies alike from all across the realm. In the center, just in front of the throne sat the royal table. On the opposing sides of the room were the packed tables for the highly esteemed guests. The middle of the room was cleared for dancing and eventually the marriage itself…

He wished he could throw himself into the spikes of the throne. Instead, he had to slither his way through the crowds to make way to the table. Aegon was tired of waiting, He was tired of hearing your family gawk at the well-made match and he was especially tired of doing nothing. Your husband would be dealt with in due time, but he hadn’t the patience to pretend not to be itching to speak to you, to touch you, anything but sit here and fucking watch. 

He finally pulled himself up onto the podium and marched his way in front of you. You seemed stunned, miserable, in awe of his beauty. All of which were better than you being happy to be wed. "I'm insulted you have yet to ask me to dance, uncle." His lips twisted into his usual overly confident smile. “didn’t want to disturb the happy couple so soon.” 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you stuck out your hand waiting for him to take it. There were stares from certain people of course, those who knew what happened at Driftmark and potentially before. You didn’t really care anymore. 

For a moment, he was the perfect gentleman. Placing his hands in only the proper places and spinning you around the floor with ease. If you were a normal family, this would be a sweet interaction between relatives… But you were twisted and Targaryens. “You know, I’m putting more effort into this dance than my own wedding.” You scoffed, “Oh joy, surely no one will find this suspicious at all.” 

Aegon’s face mirrored disgust as he glanced around you. “Is something the matter?” He rolled his eyes, "Your dearly beloved is gawking." You stood on your tiptoes to glance over his shoulder. Surely enough, the pretty dornish prince was smiling ear to ear watching you…"Do something about it." 

The mischievous look Aegon always wore as a child made its reappearance. It was quick, his hands grasping onto your face and pulling you so close you could feel his breath on your skin. “You would let me dishonor you in front of all these people, bad princess.” You whined trying to lean up into his face, but he pulled back, “tsk tsk, can’t let your husband see you so needy for my affection now, can we?” 

You wished he would stop referring to him as your husband. You wished he would stop reminding you of what waited for you after the night ended. “Sister… Prince Aegon.” Jacaerys appeared from behind like a thief in the night. Immediately souring any positive mood Aegon could have been in. He stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Nephew.” He gritted through his teeth with a subtle bow. 

“Princess, would you dance with me?” You glanced between the two and felt the humiliation of the situation beginning to seep in. Your mother was on the high podium with a faux smile and a death grip on her fork observing you… “Of course! Let’s go little brother.”

The dance was alright… But you couldn’t get your mind off of the Lannister girl who was practically drooling at the sight of Aegon. He had slept with her before you knew this much. A secret part of you kept track of the whores he buried his cock inside, at least the rich ones. What happened next was honestly a blur, you couldn’t remember a thing. Except that you may or may not have called her a whore and threatened her life if she dared to touch him… She scurried away with her hands on her and tears in her eyes. 

You weren’t jealous at all, only defending Helaena’s honor. 

____________________________________

“Prince Aegon, pleasure to finally meet you,” If the night couldn't get any better the man of the hour had just willingly approached the man plotting against him… “Prince Quentyn, nice of you to believe this is a pleasure.”  He smirked, “Your wife looks very beautiful.” Aegon patted his shoulders, “as does yours.” 

Quentyn winced, a rather noticeable scowl growing on his face. “She’ll never be yours, my prince.”

“You’ll see later tonight whose name she calls out while your cock is inside her.” He smiled a crooked grin. Quentyn’s fists balled up next to his sides, Aegon wasn’t one to directly fight, he was more behind the scenes type of criminal. There was no denying that he was strong, strong enough to crack this man’s skull. But that wasn’t part of the plan… His feet moved fast, swiftly connecting his fist to Aegon’s jaw. 

The crowd erupted behind them, lords and ladies screaming trying to escape the violence. Suddenly, Aegon stopped trying to attack and let the dornish cunt take charge. He tackled him to the ground and landed hit after hit… Was this really worth it, he thought to himself as blood started to trickle down his face. “You- fucking- wastrel-” Aegon was laughing hysterically whilst getting his face beat in… All according to plan, he told himself. 

“Get off of him!” You screeched in horror pulling at the man assaulting your lover. It wasn’t meant to take a turn like it did. Quentyn, not recognizing you, turned and landed a hit square to your cheek knocking you on your ass. “Protect the princess!” Some guard shouted from behind whilst dogpiling onto your husband. He stared in horror at what he had done, you were gripping your cheek mortified, and Aegon was laying there covered in blood laughing his ass off like a psychopath. 

The maester was applying ice to your cheekbone as you nervously picked at the seams on your dress. “We’ll have the marriage annulled by tomorrow.” Rhaenyra paced inside the room. “On what grounds? Aegon was obviously egging him on,” Jacaerys groaned from the corner. “I could kill him and fix this entirely,” Daemon muttered watching his wife rage on. 

The rest of the argument was drowned out, the only noise you could hear was the sound of Aegon’s jaw cracking. You didn’t feel despair that the wedding was ruined, you didn’t feel depressed that your husband had hit you… No, you felt completely fucking enraged. 

Seeing Aegon harmed had awoken something in you. It was hateful and could not be quelled by a simple apology. He fucking beat him to a pulp in the midst of your wedding then had the audacity to lay a hand on you… It may or may not have awoken something because seeing Aegon laughing whilst covered in his own blood made your core heat up. 

“Could I be given some milk of the poppy for the pain, mother?” Rhaenyra looked at you with the most sorrowful expression she could muster, “oh my sweet girl.” She cupped your cheeks in her hands and rubbed at the bruise that was forming. “Go fetch some tea for my daughter, Maester… Now!” 

____________________________________

You were returning to your chambers in a rather dumbed down state. The medicine made your mind hazy, and your body feel light as a feather. It was like wine but far better with less of a hangover. The corridors were dark, all the excitement from tonight was far over. You hummed to yourself lazily, dreading the return to where your husband lay. Until you felt a hand wrap around your mouth and yank you into a hole in the wall you never knew was there. 

You tried to scream but were quickly shushed by a voice that could only belong to one man. “Aegon? What are you doing?” He smiled at you, rubbing the bruise on your cheek. “Will you go out for a walk with me?” You raised your eyebrow in distrust, “To where?” Aegon grinned, almost too enthusiastically to trust, “the dragonpit.” 

The most unexpected event of tonight wasn’t the wedding brawl nor the injury that befall you. It was the fact you were riding on Sunfyre again, with Aegon holding onto your waist as you soared through the stars. It was a wedding gift, he claimed. As far as you knew Aegon never let anyone touch his dragon let alone ride with him, except you. 

It was indescribable, the feeling of the wind rushing past your cheeks. The view of the city and the moon shining above you reflecting off his scales. You were giggling uncontrollably the entire flight listening to Aegon tell jests you hadn’t heard in years. Whatever injury he had gained was long forgotten the second you took off. Whatever drama or chaos in the keep didn’t exist outside. In the sky, you both were completely free. 

You couldn’t say how long you spent outside. Mayhaps it was an hour or two before Sunfyre descended onto a nearby beach surrounded by the most beautiful rock formations you had seen. “Is this your version of bridenapping me?” You teased while he helped you climb down the saddle. “It’s only kidnapping if you fight back.” 

He grasped your hand leading you across the sandy beach, showcasing the stars he supposedly, desperately wanted to show you. “I have an actual gift for you too.” You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, “Is it a ride home on Sunfyre?” Aegon laughed, genuinely laughed for the first time since you’ve returned. He dug in his pocket searching for something… “I had it made years ago but never had the chance to properly give it to you.”

In his hand was the most beautiful golden ring in the shape of a dragon. “A ring? A Sunfyre ring?” Aegon grabbed your hand and slipped it on with ease, “I’m not that creative, you know this. it was meant to be something to remember me by when you left.” Tears were prickling your eyes once more. The fool kept the damned ring all these years and never mentioned it. “Aegon… Be honest for once with me please. Do you still love me?” 

He paused, searching tirelessly for the right words to say. “I… There hasn’t been a day in five years where I haven’t thought about you at least once. There hasn’t been an hour that something has not reminded me of you. There hasn’t been a single night I’ve slept without seeing you… It isn’t normal, it’s twisted and sick and cruel just like I am. No matter what you do to others, to me, to yourself. No matter if the world ends in a freeze or we are in the midst of a war of the ages… I believe I’ll always feel this… And I don’t think I’ll be able to stop until the seven hells take me.” 

You sniffled; he always had such a roundabout way of saying things. “I’ll always love you too.” He smiled genuinely, pulling you into a kiss so gentle yet so firm it made you forget all the dangers of the world, the drama, the potential war, your husband, everything was irrelevant except for you two, right now under the stars.

“We still haven’t done the bedding ceremony.” You whispered against his lips. His eyes lit up, “Have you always been so needy for me?” You didn’t have time to protest before he was passionately colliding his lips against yours once more. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him closer into you, making sure no part of you would ever be apart from him again.

His arms slipped below your waist as he lowered you onto the ground as gently as he could. Your legs fell open instinctively and his hands began to explore your body. It was vastly different from every other time you’ve been together. It was gentle and loving, passionate and pleasurable without the pain. 

Your bodies started to move in sync with each other, stripping away the clothes that hid your most intimate parts.  His hands held you close to his chest, keeping you warm while you were exposed to the elements. You moaned into his mouth, kissing him passionately with a hunger you had forgotten existed.

He broke the kiss, gasping for air. You opened your eyes to see the moonlight reflected off his face, sometimes Aegon Targaryen looked more God than man. He moved to suckle on your neck as he ran his length against your slit. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmured huskily against your ear. He slowly pushed inside, filling you with his thickness. You gasped from the sudden sensation. He was so deep within you, so far reaching you almost felt like you could reach out and touch the stars.

His kisses trailed down your neck, nibbling, sucking, biting. He took his time thrusting inside of you with slow movements, appreciating every moment your bodies were entertained. He stopped mid-thrust, holding himself deep within you.

“I love you, Princess.” He whispered, his voice so tender and soft. You blushed like a child; it was silly to think his cock being inside you didn’t make you feel as embarrassed as him telling you, his feelings. “Always.” You murmured back. He kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping past your teeth.

You clung tight to his neck, your nails digging into his skin. He moved faster, his breaths coming in shorter and quicker. You moaned, your thighs trembling from the feeling of fullness. His fingers traced circles on your inner thigh, and then he moved to your clit. 

He worked you effortlessly, eliciting soft whimpers and moans and love confessions. The world was a blur of fluorescent colors and smells, nothing mattered but you and Aegon. His climax came swiftly, almost right after your own. You begged for him to cum inside you, to fill you with his seed and he always did as you asked. 

He collapsed on top of you, his weight heavy on your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his back, feeling him relax. “Aegon…” You spoke his name softly, your head resting on his shoulder. “Mhmm?” He said in a daze. “Again?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his neck. He smirked, his cock twitching inside of you.

____________________________________

[nonclassyparty]

tins without labels - prologue (j.wy)

summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba) // click to donate to Palestine

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: none for this chapter i think! word count: 9.3k taglist: just reply or inbox me if u'd like to be added c: a/n: pls don't say damn when u see that i started another story. listen LISTEEEEEN. i know what u all will say..."bree should u rly be starting another series when u havent finished or started the 4757 bajillion ones that u already posted?" the answer is YES. let me explain myself briefly, this summer has been rly hard for me bc i lost someone who was incredibly important to me and i just can't write...i just can't! everything looks like shit!!! im halfway done with soot and something just isn't letting me continue. i can't write pretty on the outside or literally anything else i've started bc its all simply too sad. writing is draining to begin with despite how much i love and enjoy it but writing angst is k wording my mental health lol! so....i present to you this series, mostly dedicated to myself literally no one asked for this, i just feel like its something i need to write and always wanted to so here i go! it will be a little heartwarming series with lots of humor and coming of age shenanigans and huge chunks of it written from personal experience and i hope u guys read it and like it. i had a lot of fun writing this prologue. (p.s. i literally know jackshit about football/soccer so if by some chance someone that reads this knows their football shit....just let it go pls lmfaoo)

(prologue; when we were kids)

and I couldn't find the words, i couldn't think of what to say and all that I can do is stop and think about the days when all we used to dream about was meeting after school

6 and 8 years old;

Your mom helped you build the snowman.

An entire morning of running around your front yard, laughing and playing in the freshly fallen snow, seeing the air you breathe out in front of you that you pretended was cigarette smoke to make your mom laugh as the cold nipped at your cheeks.

The snowman was almost twice your size (which wasn't a lot, you were a fairly small child) with pebbles stuck in as his eyes and teeth pulled up in a big grin. Your mom found a small bucket in the old shed behind the house which she placed on his head as a makeshift hat and because you didn't have any carrots, there was a small twig stuck at the center of the snowman's face to serve as a long crooked nose.

(The snowman didn't have any arms, a detail that went over your head at the time.)

After admiring the big statue in the farther corner of your front yard for awhile, you finally retreated into the house with your socks wet along with the majority of your hot pink snowsuit. As you kicked off the damp clothes and exchanged them for warm, dry ones and fuzzy socks and then settled in front of the TV in the toasty living room with a mug of cocoa - you couldn't help but feel that it was a happy day.

Which is why when, in the late afternoon, once you looked out of your window to see what once used to be your snowman is now nothing but a big pile of disheveled snow with his plastic hat rolling around the sidewalk and two boys running away down the street with shrill laughter echoing after them, you simply couldn't help but burst into tears.

"Mommy!" You screamed out, running outside your front door in fuzzy socks and your sweater, as dramatic as you were. But you were six and your life still ended and began with coloring books and favorite toys, so a snowman that you made with your mom getting destroyed, surely felt like the end of the world.

Once your mom stepped out after you, about to scold you for walking outside into the cold air with no jacket on, you burst into crocodile tears as you pointed to the spot where your snowman once stood.

"Oh, no." She breathed out with a sigh before grabbing her jacket and slipping into whatever shoes were available by the door (they were your dad's old tennis shoes) and walking across the front yard to collect the small bucket from the sidewalk.

All you could do was stand and watch as you wailed so loudly after your snowman that the entire neighbourhood could hear.

"Honey, it's okay." Your mom tried to soothe you as she walked up the steps to your house, carrying what used to be the snowman's hat. "It's just a snowman, we'll make another one tomorrow!"

But you were inconsolable, bursting out in another wave of loud cries as you stomped your tiny foot and pointed to the house across the street.

"They ruined it! W-Wooyoung ruined it!" You sob, waving towards the boy's house with all the anger a six year old could possibly muster. You knew it was him, recognizing the ugly red jacket he wore this entire winter and his even uglier looking friend, Chanwook.

You weren't friends with Wooyoung. He was older than you and all of his friends were mean. You once tried to play with them when you first moved to the neighbourhood but they didn't want to play with a girl. You cried about that too.

They often teased you. Wooyoung said your crooked teeth made you look ugly!

She sighs again, "And that was very mean of him. But, Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow."

"But-" You start again, tears still sliding down your face. 

"We'll build him in the backyard where we have a fence, so no-one will be able to touch him." She offers with a smile, hoping you'll finally be consoled enough to walk inside and be safe from the harsh cold.

"But I won't be able to look at him from the window." You tell her quietly, voice going hoarse from the crying and bottom lip already wobbling as another wave of tears began to sunk in. She gives you a sympathetic smile.

"We'll get him a prettier hat and we'll use two long branches to give him arms!" Your mom offers again, trying to butter you up so the tears would stop. "We'll get a carrot for his nose and big pretty rocks for his eyes!" Once she realized it was working, she continued; "And we'll take a picture of you with him so you'll always get to look at him, even when he melts away!"

You peer up at her with a hiccup, finally bribed enough; "A picture?"

She nods, holding the door wider for you to finally walk inside as you inch towards the door, fuzzy socks now soaked, "A picture. We'll send your dad to the mall to develop them."

So, you finally walk inside the warm house again, changing your socks and immediately going to your father's home office to pester him about the camera and just how long will it take for a picture to be developed.

-

"-Y/N, we'll just make another snowman tomorrow!" 

Wooyoung heard your mom tell you as he peers at the exchange from across the street, through his bedroom window, freshly changed into dry clothes after a long hard day of playing outside with Chanwook and now, warming his frozen hands on the radiator.

When Wooyoung saw the snowman parked in the corner of your front yard, just a step away from the sidewalk, he and Chanwook thought it would be funny to ruin it. 

The thing was ugly and had an even uglier bucket at the top of it's head, perfect to kick around the street!

He didn't think too much about it, if he was honest. Just saw a big lump of snow he wanted to kick at until it collapsed, so that's what Wooyoung did. It was just a silly snowman.

Besides, you were already six years old. Far too old to be making a stupid snowman. You should've been going sledding with the rest of the neighborhood kids on the small hill just a couple of minutes away from your street. Wooyoung was mature now, so his mom allowed him to go without a chaperone this year. You were always so childish, no wonder your mom didn't let you go with them. You cried over everything.

But he didn't expect you to cry over the stupid snowman!

It was just a snowman. It would've melted anyway when the weather got warmer! Or gotten ruined by someone else! 

The brief fear of your mom telling Wooyoung's mom about what he'd done struck him. He'd positively get grounded for ruining your dumb snowman if she found out and then the rest of his winter break would be spent inside of the house.

You could always make another snowman. A better one. And since you're such a crybaby, Wooyoung would make sure to tell Chanwook that they won't be touching that one. Leave that ugly snowman alone.

Just so you wouldn't cry anymore.

-

10 and 12 years old;

"It's a shame your mother is dead, maybe if she was still around she would teach you how to act like a girl!" 

Your face flushed in anger as you stared the other boy, Beomseok, his chubby fingers still wrapped around your pencil case which was how the argument started in the first place.

He was in the same class as you and a typical bully. Bigger than the rest of his peers and always using it to his advantage to intimidate and tease them. Today, he took your pencil case and when you asked for him to give it back, he only gave you a gnarly smile and started running around the classroom and eventually out on the halls, screaming taunts at you. It would be a lie to say that you didn't scream some pretty mean stuff back but in your defense, he deserved it.

Now, you both stood as if you're ready to duel as the rest of your classmates and even some upperclassmen gathered to see what the commotion is all about, your fury rising so high that tears spring in your eyes at the mention of your mom as you observe his smug smirk. Obviously, from a very young age, you were bad at managing your anger.

"I hate you!" You scream out, voice high pitched. Then you jump on Beomseok with your full weight, successfully pulling him to the hard hallway floors as your hands curled into tiny fists that started colliding with his face.

And Beomseok, for all his intimidating build, talked an awfully big game just to end up bursting into tears as your fist collided with his nose. He was bad at fighting, you notice, if he could be beat up by a lanky girl almost two times smaller than him.

"I just-" Punch. "-wanted-" Punch. "-my pencil case-" A slap. "-back!"

"Somebody help!" He screams from under you, whining under each attack but his classmates were too busy cheering you on to come to his defense.

Once you start harshly pulling on his hair, two arms wrap themselves under your armpits and pull you off of your classmate. You're standing again and are turned by your shoulders to come face to face with your teacher, screaming at you.

"Is this a proper behavior in school?!" and lots of "Your father will hear about this!"'s and "You're going to the principle's office!" as she started pulling you by your arm down the corridor that was still filled with students.

"Everyone to your classrooms! Now!" Your teacher screams from the top of her lungs as she tugs on you and you follow after her with a frown on your face.

Stupid Beomseok.

-

Wooyoung's stomach hurts from laughing, clapping Chanwook's shoulder who was almost sitting on the floor due to his own fit of pure glee, as he watches Kim Beomseok roll around the floor in pain, clutching his nose. 

There's scratches and bruises already forming on his cheeks, little bit of blood mixed with a lot of big, fat tears. It's hard to feel even slightly bad for Beomseok, when Wooyoung heard how he torments his classmates along with the younger kids during recess. Did it count as bullying if the bully is the one getting bullied?

Maybe he finally got what was coming for him, nobody usually stood up to him and Wooyoung least expected you to be the one to put him in his place.

He deserved it, Wooyoung thinks, after what he said about your mom.

Wooyoung remembers her funeral three years ago, he remembers how much you cried and how you didn't leave your house for a month that summer. He even rung the doorbell to ask if you wanted to come out and play one time which he never did because you were a child and he was much more mature than you, you two had nothing in common. But he felt sad for you.

Your mom was nice, she always brought Wooyoung a chocolate when she'd come for a visit.

 Sadly, they discovered she had cancer when you were only seven and Wooyoung was nine. By the time they discovered it, it was already too far along and your mom passed away on a summer evening while you were outside playing hide and seek. 

Wooyoung remembers feeling so bad how they always made you the seeker that day because you were the youngest kid in the neighbourhood and far too easy to convince that it was simply always your turn to look for the other kids.

Your dad opened the door, smiling sadly at Wooyoung and saying that you weren't feeling well enough to come out and play. Wooyoung didn't try again after that.

The teacher is pulling you by your elbow through the crowd, yelling at the top of her lungs for everyone to head to their classrooms since class should start in a couple of minutes. You silently follow her, face twisted into an angry grimace.

Your hair has fallen out of your ponytail, long strands sticking to your face and Wooyoung is pretty sure that your shirt got ripped during the brawl. 

Wooyoung might've been laughing a bit too loudly because with angry eyes and cheeks flushed, your head whips towards him just as you pass by him.

Wooyoung opens his mouth with a smile, to say something like "Good job, Y/L!" maybe. He doesn't get the chance to.

"What are you laughing at, Jung?" You ask loudly and Wooyoung's laughter immediately dies down.

"Wha-?"

And it's then, that your foot meets Wooyoung's shin in a harsh kick that makes him yowl in pain and makes Chanwook burst into another wave of laughter as his hands grab at Wooyoung who doubles over in pain.

"Y/N!" The teacher screams out again, pulling you back by your shirt and going on another rant, filled with threats of calling your dad to school and something else he can't process at the moment.

Wooyoung is too busy feeling the pain and anger that fills him up as he rubs at the place your sneaker covered foot meet his leg.

"Y/N, you psycho!" He yells after you who is still getting dragged away. You don't even bother to look back at him.

(He still collects your pencil case from the floor and throws it on a desk that a classmate of yours says belongs to you before exiting the classroom and going to his own. Wooyoung tells himself it's for no other reason but just so your dad won't have to buy you a new one. He has enough on his plate already.)

-

14 and 16 years old;

Wooyoung has a girlfriend.

You don't know why that's something that bothers you so much.

Maybe because you don't understand what a girl could possibly see in Jung Wooyoung to willingly let him hold her hand or...God forbid, kiss her. Ew.

That's a lie, maybe even a bad attempt at coping on your part because there's a general consensus in your high school that Jung Wooyoung is good-looking. 

You didn't even think he was ugly when you were younger, when he was pulling on your pigtails and teasing you for playing with dolls. He was cute for an annoying kid back then too with his chubby cheeks and bowl haircut.

He was especially cute now, a recent discovery of yours which you have no one else to thank except puberty. It did wonders on your hormones and it did wonders on Jung Wooyoung too. 

His jawline got sharper the more baby fat he lost and lips grew fuller. His boyish smile was very attractive, even his smile lines were captivating. Wooyoung grew taller as well, not by much compared to the other boys in his grade but he was tall just enough so you'd have to look up to him when you argue but not enough to be intimidated by him.

So, yes, you supposed you'd understand the appeal if it weren't for his stupid mouth and mean words more often than not, directed at you. You threw shots back as well, sometimes even started an argument first if you were feeling particularly annoying but maybe that sums up why you're so bothered.

He started dating Chaeyoung at the beginning of this summer and since you have the fortune (read: misfortune) of living in the house right across the street from Wooyoung's, you were an unlucky witness to most of their dates.

And he was so sweet to her. He'd buy her cheap flowers and ice cream, they'd walk around the neighbourhood holding hands, they'd take Wooyoung's younger brother Kyungmin to the playground in the evenings. Wooyoung would smile a lot at her and Chaeyoung would always smile back.

You even saw them kiss. Just once.

When you were folding laundry in your bedroom, you looked through the window just in time to see their lips connect on Wooyoung's front porch. You quickly looked away, feeling shy and embarrassed, not understanding why you were blushing or feeling so sad all of a sudden.

Why was he so nice to other girls but never to you? You shouldn't think too much about it, the problem isn't you. Chaeyoung wasn't just some other girl but his girlfriend. Of course, he'd treat her special.

Whatever. You scoff as you watch Chaeyoung run to Wooyoung across the quad as you adjust your sports bag over your shoulder. 

She jumps into his arms and you can hear his loud, annoying laughter even to here as his arms wrap around her and he picks her up from the ground.

"What are you doing?" You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of Ryujin's voice as she nosily tries to follow where you were staring at.

Ryujin was the first friend you met since you started high school two weeks ago. She might be the only friend you have for awhile since you haven't really been trying to even get to know your classmates as you were too busy trying out for the girls football team.

You don't remember when you started actively playing football exactly. You always played it for fun with the boys from the neighbourhood (Wooyoung included)  but maybe it was around seventh grade when your dad pestered you into trying out a sport because he didn't know what else to do with you so he packed you up and sent you to a sports camp for two weeks one summer, that you started actually playing.

You went there only caring about your iPad and came back saying you'll be a professional football player.

Your dad doesn't want to say it but you know he thinks it's a fickle dream that will fizzle out with age.

Thankfully, Ryujin shared the same love for the sport as you so for now, you were relieved and content to spend time with her. She was nice.

You didn't need anyone else but maybe it would've been nice if someone who was older, who you were familiar with even if you always fought, would give you a couple of words of useful advice. Regarding the new teachers and subjects and all.

High school was scary.

"Nothing." You answer quickly, turning your back to Wooyoung and his girlfriend and fully facing your new friend.

"Nothing?" Ryujin gives you a suspicious smile, eyes darting over your shoulder once more before she ruffles your hair. You yelp. "Do you have a crush already, Y/N?"

You gently shove her away with a huff, fixing your bangs, "Don't be stupid. These boys are all ugly."

A crush. As if!

She laughs at that, throwing her arm around your shoulder as she directs you both to the field where practice was held, already yapping about her own crush.

-

"Hey, isn't that your neighbour?" Chaeyoung nudges Wooyoung with her elbow, nodding somewhere behind Wooyoung. He cranes his neck to follow the direction before his eyes land on you.

He snorts, "Yeah."

You were standing in the middle of the football field, sweaty and red in the face from all the running, with your hands on your hips as you paid attention to what your coach was yelling towards your teammates across the field.

The school's jersey seemed far too big on your lanky form and your hair was a mess, always slipping out of your ponytail. You were much smaller in build than the rest of the team and it looked funny to Wooyoung.

He didn't expect you to be into sports, let alone a sport like football. In fact, Wooyoung is surprised that you don't burst into tears when you start arguing with the makeshift referee played by another student. It's what usually happens if you spend longer than a minute arguing with Wooyoung.

And then he ends up being the bad guy for making you cry but no one ever mentions that you sometimes provoke him first as well but can't take it when it's dished right back.

Since you're such a crybaby.

He watches with an amused grin as you bare your teeth at the referee, who is really just a senior that thought it would be a fun time but now he has to stand arguing with you. And to Wooyoung's further amusement, the older boy who is almost two heads taller than you, looks like he's about to shit his pants in front of you.

Hm. Maybe not such a crybaby when it's anyone else but Wooyoung.

"I think she has a crush on you."

He turns to look at his girlfriend with a confused look, growing further confused when she smiles teasingly at him.

"Who?" He asks and she gives him a knowing look before nodding in your direction again. Wooyoung splutters out a surprised laugh, "Y/N?"

"Yeah." She nods excitedly, giggling, "She's cute."

Wooyoung scoffs with an eyeroll, "She's a kid."

A kid who might have a small crush on Wooyoung but still, a kid nonetheless.

He'd be stupid to say he didn't notice that you sometimes stare at him a little too much but what the hell is he supposed to do about that. You just started high school, you probably weren't even aware of what you were doing. It was a childish crush because at the end of the day that's what you are - childish.

Chaeyoung giggles again, the sound is soft and sweet, leaning her head against his shoulder. 

"It's kind of sweet." She sighs dreamily and Wooyoung snorts because nothing about you was sweet, "You're her handsome neighbour, the only guy who's always been close to her since she was a kid, she probably starts those childish arguments with you so you'd give her attention and then writes about you in her diary and-"

"Y/N is the last person to have a diary, first of all." Wooyoung interrupts with a snicker before looking down on his girlfriend who is teasing him, "Second of all, you sound ridiculous."

Chaeyoung lifts her head up from where it rested against him and looks at him seriously, her lips pressed together. Then she starts imitating Wooyoung's last sentence in a deeper voice that sounds nothing like him, "You sound ridiculous-ah!"

She squeals when Wooyoung pinches her at the waist lovingly and it turns to tickling her as he presses kisses to her cheeks.

As they continue to exchange kisses between hushed giggles, the conversation about you is forgotten.

-

18 and 20 years old;

From the moment you opened the door to greet your date, you knew that the whole night would be a complete and utter disaster.

Maybe you watched too many teen movies that romanticized prom night so much that even you ended up believing and looking forward to the glorified fantasy of it but boy, were you in for a rude awakening.

Your prom date was a boy from your Calculus class named Eunwoo. 

To be completely honest, you were convinced for the entirety of your senior year that you wouldn't have a date for prom at all because not much has changed since freshman year.

You still had one good friend (two, if you count Ryujin's friend that says she likes hanging out with you) and your focus was always on football. Add schoolwork and keeping up your good grades and you truly didn't have much time left for socializing.

So when Eunwoo pulled you aside after your football practice and asked you if you wanted to go to prom together with a handsome boyish smile on his face, your excitement for that night skyrocketed.

Eunwoo wasn't exactly a friend but he was nice to you during class, maybe you were wrong but his niceness sometimes even bordered flirting. Already, you were daydreaming about a possible boyfriend to spend your last summer with before you start college.

With a date or without one, you spend the bigger portion of your senior year saving up money for prom night or should you say prom preparations.

Makeup was never your strongest suit, in fact, it wasn't a suit of yours at all. You never wore it. You never did your hair either. 

Even on the rare occasion that you went to a high school party, you never wore anything else aside from jeans and T-Shirts. You were an athlete and you committed to the bit entirely, always being ready to sweat and opting for comfort of loose clothes above anything else.

But you wanted to look nice for prom, pretty. Not because of Eunwoo but for yourself. Prom is only once and you wanted to make sure you do it with confidence. 

All your saved up allowance went on the hair and makeup appointment along with your dress that Ryujin helped you pick out. The dress was quite simple in your opinion, a dark red one with a square neckline held up by two thin straps that clung to your curves and flared out at the bottom.

With your hair pinned up in an up-do with two curled strands framing your face and glitter on your eyelids, you thought you looked very pretty, beautiful even. Hell, it was probably the best you looked in your entire eighteen years of life. You could even put up with the painful heels for the sake of it.

Your dad made you pose over the whole house while you waited for your date to pick you up. First a photoshoot on the stairs, then one on the front porch, then a little in front of the living room fireplace. 

He seemed so excited with his camera hanging around his neck as he followed you around the house.

It was one of the moments you wished your mom was here for but nonetheless, it was much fun with your dad only as well. You were happy.

It all went to shit though once you opened the door for Eunwoo and he started laughing in your face.

"Oh my God!" He laughs, almost doubling over at the apparent hilarity of your appearance, "What are you wearing?!"

You laugh nervously, ignoring your father's glance at you from the sheer embarrassment, "What? Is it that bad?"

"No, no." Eunwoo shakes his head, wiping a stray tear that escaped while he was laughing, "It's just not like you, at all."

"Oh." You give him a sour smile, your fragilely built ego shattering completely. "I was just...trying something new I guess..."

He snickers with a headshake before offering you his hand, "Come on, let's go take a photo?"

After a small moment of hesitation, feeling your cheeks burn from the humiliation, you let him grab your hand and step out on the front porch. Eunwoo places a hand around your waist to pull you closer as you both smile at your dad's camera.

A couple of photos later, you both head towards Eunwoo's car as your dad waves you goodbye. You give him a small, almost sad wave back as Eunwoo opens the door for you. You ask him;

"Do I really look funny?"

"No, you look pretty no matter what." He answers, helping you with your dress. "It's just doesn't suit you I guess, it's not like you."

"Ah..." You say staring at the dashboard as you watch him round the car to get into the driver's seat. You glance back at your dad just to see him get back into your house and for a split second, you want to call the whole thing off and go back inside with him.

Of course this doesn't suit you. You were the girl guys dapped up in the hallways, the girl that was always covered in hoodies and sweatpants and never wore makeup. You must look stupid, all dolled up like this. What were you thinking.

Prom celebration is usually held at a hotel not far from your high school. The ballroom is enormous, with vast marble floors and high ceilings illuminated by golden, shimmery lights. It looks straight out a fairytale with colorful dresses worn by pretty princess and handsome princes in their extravagant suits. Only, you don't feel like a princess at all.

Eunwoo and you find your table and you briefly say hi to Ryujin and her date. Ryujin tells you how amazing you look and you give her the first (and possibly, only) genuine smile of the night.

"So," Eunwoo starts the conversation a few minutes after you settle down at your table with drinks, "Did you decide where you're going for college? Any scouts?"

"I'm leaning towards SNU. Their Women's Football Club is really strong and I feel like they actually get proper investments and budget." You tell him and he grins interrupting your next sentence.

"See, this is why I like you. It's hard to find a girl who knows about sports and is so chill about everything."

Your mouth stays parted, the rest of your sentence (which was really just saying that the fact the male football team was hot contributed to your decision as joke) went unsaid as his words registered. Every "compliment" Eunwoo gives you is starting to come off so backhandedly that you're beginning to realize that while he thinks he has you all figured out - he doesn't actually know you at all.

You give him a fake laugh and pray to God it doesn't sound fake enough for him to notice as you take a sip of your drink.

An hour later, your heels are killing you so much that you've completely given up on dancing. You observe Ryujin on the dance floor with her date, still going at it and sigh with the silent question of when it would be your turn. Instead, you're stuck to the sidelines with shoes that feel awful on your feet and a date that can't stop talking about how it's attractive that you're a "girl that actually eats". Eunwoo's compliments are becoming weirder by the second.

"Should I just take you home?" Eunwoo asks with an amused smile as he observes you taking off your heels for the tenth time since you sat back down.

"Ah, would you mind?" You give him an apologetic smile, feeling like a burden and a not-so-much-fun date, "I'm sorry, Eunwoo, this is unfair to you-"

"Nah, I had a fun time." He shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink, "Next time, just be yourself though, yeah?"

The weirdly phrased statement makes you pause. "What do you mean?"

"You know, you don't have to dress like this!" He laughs, playfully playing with the thin strap of your dress. You subtly move away from his touch. "It's not like you at all. I don't know if your friends talked you into it just to fit in but you shouldn't let them push you around like this."

He's so wrong that you can't speak for a moment but even if you could, you feel like trying to explain yourself to him would be far too exhausting and would lead to nowhere. Nor do you want it to lead anywhere anymore, if you were honest.

"Girls like that are so exhausting." He gives a tired sigh. "Outfits and makeup aren't the only thing in the world."

"Girls....like that?"

"You know! Like, the touchy-feely shit. Everything is about color-coordination and nail polishes with them. God forbid their hair is out of place. What a headache!" Eunwoo runs a hand through his hear before giving you an award winning smile. "That's why I'm glad I got to hang out with you! You're real."

"I'm....real?" You ask with a cocked head as your eyes start to narrow. He's too busy thinking that you like what he's saying so he continues.

"Yeah. You know, you keep it real. You're not caught up in that frivolous, girly bullshit. You're so chill, Y/N." He keeps smiling at you like he just gave you the highest form of compliment he possibly could.

But you can't bring yourself to crack a smile even if someone held a barrel of a gun to your temple at the moment. In fact, you feel like throwing up. You should've know from the start, from the moment he was so unreasonably impressed with your lack of makeup at the beginning of the year.

Eunwoo was one of those guys.

"Um," You slide your heels back on and grab your clutch, "You know what, you stay. I'll go."

"Wait, what." His brows raise in half confusion and half surprise as he watches you stand up from your seat.

"Yeah, I'll walk home."

"Wait, Y/N. Why would you walk home? I already said I'd drop you off-"

"No thanks. I don't want to get in a car with a sexist."

"What?!" Eunwoo reels back, "What the fuck are you talking about?! I'm not a sexist! I respect women!"

You huff, turning to him with a glare. "You respect women who are "cool" and "chill" and basically act like men. You should've just taken one of your dudes to prom if these are your opinions. I'm out."

So, that's how you find yourself in your pretty dress sitting in one of the plastic chairs of a convenience store with a popsicle in your mouth as you watch the cars drive by. You were too embarrassed to arrive home so early, you hyped up prom night so much to your dad - you'd rather lie and tell him you had a good time.

If the night couldn't possibly get any shittier, while you eat away at your cherry popsicle feeling undeniably sorry for yourself, you hear a familiar laugh followed by sounds of shoes scuffing against the pavement towards the convenience store.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would show up now, when you needed him least.

You try to make yourself seem as small as possible in the plastic chair, hoping he or his two friends wouldn't notice you (which in retrospect was a dumb hope, you were sitting right by the entrance in a fucking prom dress).

Ever since Wooyoung graduated high school two years ago, you only saw him in passing. He'd come home for Christmas holidays or a week or two during the summers and you'd only catch him skunk out of his house and into his dad's car if you were lucky. Unlucky, that is of course.

Maybe you were hoping he wouldn't even recognize you and although it would kind of hurt (as embarrassing as that is to admit), you feel like it would be a better option.

But since you were on a roll tonight, obviously this is just another thing that doesn't go your way.

"Nice dress, Y/L/N." You hear Wooyoung's voice speak, followed by snickers from his idiotic friends and his own attempt at stifling his laughter as they walk past you and into the convenience store, the small bell above the door signaling their entrance.

That ends up being your last straw. 

You don't cause another fight or yell something back after him, no, you don't have the energy to do that tonight. Instead, you feel like you will cry.

Tears are already burning at your eyes and your bottom lip wobbles, you're not even aware that your eyes follow Wooyoung through the display of the store, watching him as he picks up a pack of beer and heads for the cashier.

He got even more painfully handsome than he was when you'd see him every day before he graduated. His hair was double toned, the top of it black and the bottom strands bleached, brushing the nape of his neck.

You think you could even see a tattoo peaking under his shirt as he moves.

Jung Wooyoung was so not your type. Not that you really knew what your type was but all the guys that you found cute in your high school years were athletes, jocks who were organized and dedicated to their routine which in your opinion showcased their maturity, got good grades and were respected by their peers. Wooyoung was really the complete opposite of that so it was hard to explain why you so weirdly hung up over his approval.

He's still laughing about something with his friends, it would hurt so badly if it was about you, as his eyes dart through the display and connect with your own.

Wooyoung does a double take before his big smile slowly slips and dare you say, eyes soften as he looks at you and his lips part as if he wants to say something. 

It could all be in your head though and you're feeling even worse now that he caught you staring at him like a total creep, so you throw your popsicle in the trash and get up with a sigh, slipping back into your heels and deciding to just go home.

-

"Hey, Y/L/N! Wait up, I'll give you a ride home!" Wooyoung calls out after you, the plastic bag swinging back and forth in his hand. 

He can hear Chanwook's hushed objection which Wooyoung chooses to ignore, instead focused on walking closer to you. You couldn't make it far since you were basically limping in your heels.

"No thanks." Wooyoung hears your response and rolls his eyes. He hasn't spoken to you in the last two years at all but he can see that nothing has changed much - you were still too stubborn for your own good.

You didn't even bother to turn back and look at him, instead you hitch your dress further up and continue up the street and away from the convenience store.

"Y/N, come on. Quit being a brat and just wait for me to bring the car around."

"I said no!" You yell over your shoulder and let out a small yelp when you stutter a bit on your feet. To Wooyoung, you resembled Bambi right now.

"I'm trying to help you!" He yells back, still following you, "Just let me drive you back-"

"Wooyoung, seriously, fuck off!" You turn to face him with red cheeks and teary eyes (maybe that's why he's insisting so badly to drive you home, you simply look pathetic), "I don't need your fucking help!"

Wooyoung reels back at your tone and harsh words and then a wave of embarrassment washes over him when he hears Chanwook and Eunhyuk laugh behind him, at the fact that he just got told off by his little neighbour.

The embarrassment is followed up by anger that prickles at his skin like needles, he scoffs and if there's one thing Wooyoung will be - it's petty; "Fine! Limp home in your stupid heels then, see if I give a shit!"

You don't give him a response and Wooyoung doesn't bother to look for it either, instead turns around on his feet and heads towards his car (his dad's car). But not before telling a laughing Chanwook to shut the fuck up.

But once he's in the car with the keys in the ignition, he stares at the steering wheel in obvious contemplation before letting out a small groan, "Fuck."

Wooyoung turns to Chanwook, "Sit in the back, please."

His friend looks at him in surprise and confusion. "What?"

"Just sit in the back, will you? Please." Wooyoung repeats, avoiding Chanwook's eyes but feeling his stumped stare.

"Wooyoung, you cannot be serious." His friend laughs in disbelief as if reading his mind, looking around before giving Wooyoung another incredulous look, "She just told you to fuck off!"

Eunhyuk is quiet in the back which is a huge relief for Wooyoung, he really didn't need to defend himself to his other friend too.

"I can't let her go by foot in the dark, you've seen her! She can barely walk!" Wooyoung says defensively to both of his friends as Chanwook moves to the back with a huff.

"And that's your problem...how?" Chanwook, like the annoying pest he is, asks.

"It's not...." Wooyoung trails off, trying to look for an excuse as to why he was going out of his way to give you a ride home. "But...but her dad would kill me if he knew I saw her and didn't drive her back. It's only right."

Chanwook smacks his lips obnoxiously loud, "Sure."

Wooyoung doesn't even need to turn around to know that his friend is giving him a very bold side eye right now.

Eunhyuk snorts but doesn't say anything else. Wooyoung is thankful for that at least.

"She probably won't even want to get in the car." Chanwook comments quietly as they reach you on the sidewalk. He ends up being ignored.

Wooyoung rolls the window of the old car down so he can talk to you, he has to say you're walking at an impressively slow pace. "Y/N, get in the car."

He hears you groan dramatically from the outside, "Jung, you're not my dad. Stop telling me what to do."

Wooyoung ignores Chanwook and Eunhyuk's snickers in the back once again, he grows even more irritated, "I'll call your fucking dad right now and tell him you're walking home alone this late. How about that?"

You turn to him with your glossy lips twisted into a scowl, "You wouldn't."

Always ready to prove a point or in this case, lie straight out of his ass, Wooyoung makes a show of stopping his car next to the sidewalk and fishing his phone from the pocket of his jacket before opening up his contacts and beginning to scroll. He doesn't even have your dad's number.

But Wooyoung is a professional bullshitter so he keeps pressing random buttons with a straight face and presses the phone to his ear before turning to you with his brows raised-

"Okay, fine!" You exclaim with an angry huff and start rounding his car as your cheeks flush a pretty pink color. Wait, pretty-? You open the door and angrily plop into the passenger's seat with a glare directed towards him, "Fucking snitch."

Wooyoung ignores you, locking his phone without another word and beginning to drive away.

There's an awkward silence in the car, only sounds being made are those of the plastic bags filled with beer that keep rustling in Eunhyuk's lap.

"This isn't the way to our street." You say and Wooyoung might be crazy but you almost sound a little nervous at that. He glances at you before it dawns onto him. Of course, you'd be feeling nervous.

It's nighttime and you're in a car with three dudes older than you who you don't know that well. Wooyoung didn't even bother telling you about his plan before he started driving. A curse runs through his head before he clears his throat,

"I'll just drop these two off at a party nearby and then drive you home." He murmurs, chest constricting a little when he sees you cross your hands over your chest, a gesture which makes you seem smaller.

"Wait, wha-" Chanwook, gosh he was really pissing Wooyoung off tonight, starts from the backseat. "Woo, I thought you were going too-"

"I will." Wooyoung interrupts him with a clenched jaw as he pulls up to the house where the party is held, "I'll drop Y/N off and then come back, it won't take more than fifteen minutes. Now get out- Wait, give me that bag right there."

Eunhyuk hands him one of the plastic bags and Wooyoung fishes through it and pulls out two blueberry ice creams out of it before giving the bag back to Eunhyuk. Which he bought for himself, of course. Not because he saw your popsicle melting on the pavement or anything.

Chanwook watches with a dropped jaw before huffing, Wooyoung hears him murmur, "Doing it for her dad, my ass-" 

"I'll be right back!" Wooyoung announces loudly, far too loudly, and Eunhyuk slams the car door shut so Wooyoung can drive away.

When he pulls away, the silence in the car is almost stifling so Wooyoung offers you the ice cream, "Here."

You look at him like a second head just popped out of his shoulder before looking back through the window and ignoring him completely. Wooyoung lets out a small groan. So stubborn.

"Oh my God, just take it." He says, placing the ice cream on your lap as he continues to drive. He bites back a smile when he sees you stare at the ice cream on your lap for a long second before grasping it and opening the wrapper so you can eat it.

Wooyoung really doesn't know what he's doing right now.

He doesn't know why he bought ice creams for you, he doesn't know why he insisted on getting rid of his friends first before dropping you off home, he has no idea why he keeps glancing at you every couple of seconds from the corner of his eye and he especially doesn't have a clue why he takes the longer route home.

When tomorrow comes and he wakes up hangover from the party and probably in someone else's bed, he'll give himself the same excuse he gave the boys. He wanted to make sure you got home safely because it's the right thing to do. There was nothing else to it.

But in this moment, right now, in the stifling silence and the breeze that flows through the opened window's because the air conditioning isn't working - Wooyoung notices things that he feels embarrassed to notice, or maybe he noticed them before but never allowed himself to appreciate them until tonight.

Like, how nice your bare neck and collarbones look now that your hair is pinned up in soft curls. A thin silver necklace graces your neck. Or how the two curled strands at the front frame your face prettily. Your eyelids are painted with something shimmery which Wooyoung doesn't know the name of and your cheekbones are a soft peach color intentionally placed there beforehand. 

Your glossy lips wrap around the ice cream cone and you bite off a huge chunk. 

"Why are you staring at me?" Wooyoung can decipher the question even through the mouthful of ice cream as you give him a slight glare.

Because you're pretty. Is what he wants to say, honest and bare, but he obviously can't because you're you and he's Wooyoung. "Because you have ice cream on your nose."

His hands tighten against the steering wheel when he sees you quickly look to the side and wipe at your nose self-consciously. You blush a scarlet red from the embarrassment. Great, now he feels like an asshole.

Wooyoung clears his throat, "Why did you look so sad? Back there, in front of the store."

He has no idea why he's trying to make conversation with you. You two never do that, never did. The closest thing to a conversation between Wooyoung and you would be the arguments you'd have in the middle of the school hallway when he'd tease you for your braces.

Those came off as well, by the way, he can see the pearly white teeth perfectly aligned now as you speak. No longer crooked. Maybe he'd like to see them pulled up in a smile but that's borderline wishful thinking now. You smiling at Wooyoung? Yeah, right.

"No reason." You tell him quietly, slumping in your seat as you continue to eat your ice cream. You sigh with an eyeroll, "Just...prom sucked."

Likely thing to happen.

The key is to go to prom with your expectations so low that you can only go up from there but Wooyoung had an inkling feeling that having low expectations wasn't in your nature.

Besides, you were a jock. He remembers even when you were a freshman, you were already running with the popular crowd without even being aware of it, with the athletes and the cheerleaders. Prom night is sort of a pinnacle of the high school experience for people like you.

Guess it's a bummer that you look like you had a shit time.

He hums, "At the end of the day, it's just another Friday night. Nothing special. So even if it sucked, you'll get over it."

Maybe he wasn't the best at giving advice or comforting people.

You side eye him and he pretends not to see it before you quietly add, "I don't usually spend a year worth of allowance on just another Friday night."

Wooyoung cracks a smile, teasing you being a second nature even if you barely spoke since he graduated, "What? Did you expect a prince charming to sweep you off your feet so you two can dance the night away or something? I didn't know you were into that corny shit, Y/L/N."

He hears you scoff, cheeks still red as you roll your eyes, seriously annoyed, "Whatever. Forget I said anything."

Wooyoung's gives a forced snicker just to annoy you before his smile drops again and his eyes flutter shut for a moment out of pure frustration at his own stupidity, internally cursing himself. If shooting yourself in the foot was a person - it would have Jung Wooyoung's photo and name posted under it.

Why can't you just be nice to her?

The air in the car turns even more awkward and Wooyoung shifts uncomfortably in his seat while you continue to eat your ice cream in silence as you stare through the window.

He slows down in front of your house just when you're finishing your ice cream.

You crumple the wrapper in your hand, place the second ice cream on the dashboard and grab the small bag laying on your lap before grabbing the door handle.

"I hope," Wooyoung starts and when you turn to look at him, he's overcome with a sudden coughing fit which is really just awkwardness and the need to fix whatever the fuck he broke a little even more tonight, "Uh, hope you took some good pictures tonight at least because..."

He trails off, feeling like it was his first time flirting with a girl. Wait, what the fuck. He was not flirting with you. Not even a little bit. Wooyoung was simply trying to pay you a compliment. Simple as that. It doesn't have to be anything more. You don't even need to be friends to pay someone a compliment, in fact, Wooyoung is positive that regular archnemeses complimented each other at least once.

Unfortunately, compliments aren't the norm between the two of you, so whatever nice thing he says feels wrong.

Your brows raise.

"You know," He trails off, scratching the back of his neck in an attempt to seem cool and collected. He nonchalantly adds but his side glances might give him away, fortunately you're too much of a ditz to notice, "You look good."

You stare at him for a long moment, seriously it's so long that he almost changes his mind and adds an insult just so you two would be back in those familiar waters of bickering and teasing each other but then your eyebrows fall back down and a scowl overtakes your features.

"Yeah, right." You mumble and Wooyoung almost feels insulted for some reason but then you continue, "Thanks for the ride."

And then you're out of the car and already moving across your front lawn before Wooyoung can snap out of it and remember to turn the car back on.

-

19 and 21 years old;

"10 more minutes! Y/L/N stop arguing with that asshole and get back into your position before you're out of the game completely!" 

Your coach is red in the face from all the shouting and you know what's good for you, so you keep your mouth shut as you run to your spot, thoroughly ignoring the glare your team's captain shoots at you from your right.

The 'asshole' that your coach is referring to is the referee who didn't count a player from the rival team almost breaking your leg by bulldozing into you - as a foul.

"-stole Eunha's position from her and can't even play properly." You hear a snicker behind you and don't even have to turn to know who it's directed at.

Despite it being only your first semester, you haven't made the greatest impression on your teammates (nor did you try all that much to change that impression). 

So for the time being, when there was no rival team, you were the collective enemy in the changing rooms and on the practice field. A freshman who kicked their friend from the spot she had since she started college. A freshman who thought she was better than the rest of her team. A freshman who didn't know how to behave at times. A freshman that made them run extra laps because she was bad at remembering all the new rules at times.

And now, a freshman that was playing badly and fucking up things for the rest of them.

"Y/N!" A hiss from your right is heard and your eyes zero in on your captain, Jihyo, who is staring at you. "Focus."

You swallow harshly and give her a quick now before focusing your gaze to the front.

In high school, you weren't used to losing. You were a winner, it's what you prided yourself in. Failure wasn't an option when it came to football.

But turns out in college, when all the other players are as good as you, winning isn't as easy.

In fact it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be. Nearing the end of the first half the score sheet is still empty and it annoys all of the players and the fans as well. The weirdest thing is how ball is not even on your team's side of the field most of the time; your defenders did not have a very entertaining start of the game in comparison to defenders from Busan, who already look out of breath from all of the attacks to their side. Not to mention that they keep teaming up on you specifically.

You can’t pinpoint what exactly is wrong and why there was no goal to this point; half of you thinks it’s because you didn’t blend well with the team. 

"Run, run, run!" Yeonjin shouts, when Sinb loses the ball and Busan’s midfielders rush to their side.

The spike of adrenaline energizes you and your eyes zero on the ball, running after it. Mina’s figure passes from your left and both of you corner the midfielder, successfully getting the ball to your side. You have it and quickly pass it to Yeonjin, seeing her signal for the ball. You watch her run off when a body collides with your own and the impact is so strong, you lose your balance, falling down.

‘What?’ You ask yourself in disbelief not understanding how you're sprawled across the grass again, slowly standing up. At first you're shell-shocked but now anger fills you to the brim when you see that it's the same girl who intentionally collided with you the first time, watching you with a smug smirk and then you're just  ready to fight.

 You push back at her and get even angrier when the bitch doesn't fall. 

"Are you going to go tattle to mommy?" She asks with a mocking concern and you can’t hear anything; you even forget that you are in the middle of the game because your anger turns your vision red. 

With a loud groan, you launch towards her and grab her by the shirt, screaming to her face that 'she's a cunt'. There are hands around you, pulling you away, trapping you and not letting you go even when you try to break free.

Jihyo's face is in front of you and you can't register what she's saying but you can see her turn red from how pissed off she is. Maybe it's better if you're not listening to her, if you can't hear anyone actually...but then-

"Hey, number nine! You better not fucking cry!"

At first, you think the loud yell came from somewhere on the field. You thought another player from the Busan team was talking shit. And then,

"Number nine! Crybaby!"

There's some laughter in the audience and it's then that you realize the voice is shouting from the fucking bleachers.

A teammate is already pulling you in the opposite direction but your eyes are glued to crowd sitting on the sidelines, the annoying voice insistently yelling. Crybaby. Crybaby. Crybaby.

The worst part is that the voice sounds so painfully familiar, you just can't put your finger on it. Who.

You're about to let it go. You're about to be the bigger person and not act like a total brute on the field, just let it go Y/N. But then-

"Hey, hey crybaby!" You stop in your tracks, head whipping to the direction the voice was coming from and eyes coasting over the bleachers. "What kind of hill did you roll down from that you don't even know how to push someone back properly?!"

Finally, you spot it. Him. In a red hoodie, making sure to stand out in the sea of blue. It's no wonder the voice sounded so eerily familiar, you've heard it screaming at you for the majority of your childhood and a good chunk of your teen years. 

Because he rolled down the same hill as you with only a street separating you.

When he realizes that you've caught onto him, he gives you that smile. That grin that never led to anything good, pearly white teeth gleaming under the lights of the bleachers as he taunts you.

You blood pressure jumps so, you take a deep breath and....scream;

"Jung Wooyoung!"

[thithesandofferings]

Title: The Be-comings of Ardor

Summary: You win the Demon Kure Raian as a prize. Now its up to you to get you to acknowledge him.

Pairing: Raian x Reader

AN: To be very honest, I just wanted something to write. Based of the excerpt from here . I wanted to write a slow burn Raian x Reader but...i didnt know the plot so uhm...you get him as a demon... Also this fandom isnt as big so really 8 people could read it and id be fine.

Tags: Descriptions of violence. Slow...slow burn. Eventual smut. Multi-chaptered. Nothing too crazy. I havent decided if I wanted to get any crazier lol. Honestly this is just an excuse to learn how to write descriptively so please bare with me.

Part 2

Part 3

You are drenched when you are told about your prize . You don't have time to dwell on past lives sticking and caving into your skin. Becoming an uninvited home in your nails. Teeth aching from the minute grinding of bone. Gums stained sticky with blood that isn't yours. Acrid air pours through your lashes as you try to blink through the chaos staining the marrow of your skull. There is an in-depth ignorance when you stand on your enemies. Your hunger docile only by the swaths of meat you have taken. Pealing and rotting underneath your tongue. You can taste their rage and despair. It feels like condemnation.

The Kure family is filled with demons. Gifting you a malevolent spirit for your victorious slaughter is an inconsequential choice. An ancestor long since passed. Has been alive since the world had begun to form. You do not dwell much on it. Empty... Distant and unsure of who you are at the present. Wondering if the sands at your feet have packed your soul away too.

They tell you with unsteady hands and sympathetic looks that "no one has ever been able to handle him properly." Glee tugs at simpered lips when they whisper that you will surely die if you cannot handle it.

It. Primordial. Eldritch almost in nature. The demon has ruthlessly taken countless. Sharpening its tongue with hollowed bones for the sake of good weather. They produce photos of him. The clans black eyes shimmer with thoughts of humiliation and desire to ruin when they show you their past relative. He's a God in their roving eyes. To finally ascend is a gift to them. You are driven by an instinctual tug to move when you do see the creature. He was a beast even in his former life. Hulking mass with a propensity to maim and kill.

Contempt licks up the path of your skin at the thought of fearing him. You are greeted immediately with an unbecoming emotion that impales you. Greed. A snarling voice unlike your own, claws through your numbing brain. He is yours. Your honor cannot be tampered when you think about the battles you fought and won to earn him. A cruel heat scatters your skin and you think briefly that it may be possession. You shrug it off as an afterthought.

You have always known that gluttony and greed ring soundly in your blood. Now is not the time to dwell on ideas and dreams.

The grim faces of men circle you in the centerfold to perform the ritual, bringing the archaic demon. You have killed enough men to honor its terms. The air is stale with apprehension and slighted fear. You have to prove that you're worthy, even after all the lives strayed across the sand. If you are not, then your life- and the men around you, will end.

You've never been much afraid of death.

The whispers bring forth laden wind. Wet and dense, petrichor aching to dig its teeth into your skin. There is an unnatural silence once the mutters of ancient tongue cease. Crickets noises snuffed out with the unease of the earth as it waits.

Your body knows the moment he is there. The heat almost searing at the back of your neck when he stands behind you. His massive frame slicing through the permeable silence as you hear the shuffling of the men almost forgotten. Your eyes are closed and yet you can still almost taste the ephemeral life that is behind you. The age weighs heavy on your bones. Ancient. Like they said. Inhuman in a way that makes you think that your future is just to be leftovers for him. His frame claws at you. Shadows peeling across your skin, scalding and feverish, beckoning you to turn around.

You are not one to back down from a challenge.

He takes the form of a human. Flinty, barely holding his power into the meat suit he prostrates himself in. He's the biggest thing you have ever seen in your life. Muscles fight for space, veins bulge and quake proudly. His strength carries him as he strides towards you in slow, decadents steps. Hulking in mass. He is a monster. Teeth sharpened with sharpened glee. Lips spread too wide for it to be comfortable. Skin peeling on the corners, blood tunneling to the front. There is madness in the poisoned whites of his eyes. Black ink devouring you, crumbling your resolve when you look at him. They're like nothing you've ever seen before. Archaic, unnatural- predatory when he accesses you. An ancestral look you know all too well, the look of suddenly finding prey. Gravity finds a way into the black holes that suffocates his gaze. It makes your knees tremble. You are not ready to discuss why it is not fear that echoes and tracks the shivers in your hands.

He is so close that you smell him. Ashen and bloodied earth clog your senses and you have to quickly blink away the tears from the strength of it. It mellows your brain, cleaning the abject cobwebs littered across.

You're distracted enough that you cant run from the grip he has on your wrist. Pinching and crunching the already bruised flesh, you know he is assessing you. His stare burning and muted, you feel like an insect.

His manic gaze suddenly cools, air becoming increasingly stale and scarce. He lets go off your wrist, throws it more like, and begins to walk toward the people you had briefly forgotten existed.

"Raian, we are so glad that-" There is a choked and horrid crack as you hear the mans body falls listlessly to the ground.

"Shut up and find me something to eat before I decide its going to be you." There is a stalled millisecond of silence before the group shuffles away with their ancestor in front.

The one who never looks back at you again.

Your so called prize no longer even acknowledges you.

The ache of death and fear permeates your bones. Muted until now, it is time for you to go home. A small smile cracking the edge of your lips.

[kumezyzo]

could I get more fwb sapnap, but this time brothers best friend version? I’m literally obsessed with this man rn oml😭😭

it took me so long to think of any ideas for this so its very very short. but i havent posted in a bit so this should be enough 😤😤😤 (jk i know it kinda isnt) i also got this ask right after i was like 'oh im taking a bit of a break'😭

so, the brother!george one is more fluff than dreams. thats it.

anyway, enjoy! or dont :) m.list

dream

its hard for you and sap to sneak around without your brother knowing. it was almost as if it wasnt worth it. but you would completely forget when he's kissing you and his hands are all over you.

everytime you two end up in either of your rooms, you're worried about dream finding out.

"i really dont think we should be doing this," you whisper as he is sucking hickies into your collarbone. he squeezes your waist and scoffs lightly, his breath tickling your skin.

"you just need to be quiet, baby," he tells you, moving down to kiss your chest once before planting a kiss on your lips.

"as if you're not loud."

but its hard to keep quiet sometimes. especially when he's hitting so deep inside you and speaking to you so lewdly.

george

when sapnap would visit you in london with george, they would stay with you. late at night, he would sneak into your room to see you quietly waiting for him.

you two had to keep quiet or else you brother would wake up. but it was worth it, especially after you two only got to see eachother once in a blue moon. and thats why you two cuddled afterwards, catching up as if you didnt sext/text and call almost everyday. but you both swore there were no feeling involved.

"you should move to florida," he suggested, moving the hair away from your neck. "it would be easier for us to do this, i mean."

you look up from his chest and think to yourself for a moment, "i dont know how i feel about living in america."

he scoffs, "but im there. your brother's there. it wouldnt be too terrible."

you hum, "i dunno...maybe."

i finished watching The Queens Gambit yesterday and i love Harry Mellings acting so much. AND he did so fucking good in The Pale Blue Eye 😫😫😫 i love good actors so mf much -nony

[dollhouse-lied]

Watching her drift away: a madoka magica angst thingy

*Its really short, and i havent seen rebellion yet so this is just relevant to what ive seen.

Homura x Madoka, sfw obviously

Desc: dreams can be so cruel, cant they? All homura wants is to see madoka again..

596 words, god it hurts, enjoy~

Since she left, all homura could think of was her.

How no matter how many times she rewinded, she would never get to see madokas face again. The girl she had devoted her life to saving was gone. There was no getting her back.

Homura laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling. The early morning hum of the city dronned on outside, but outside wasnt a world she belonged to. It had been, what, weeks? It had been a long time since she left this apartment. She spent most days wasting away in bed, having mami bring her groceries once in a while.

She let a tear roll down her cheek, silently crying as she usually did so she wouldn't bother anyone. Last time she had let her emotions out her mouth she got a noise complaint. So she laid there, moonlight filtering through the blinds. She looked over at the clock next to her bed, noting that the time was almost 4am.

I should get some sleep..

She rolled on her side, sighing and hugging a teddy bear she tied madokas ribbon on while she wasnt wearing it. She let her eyes flutter shut, realizing how tired she had actually been. She didnt do anything but lay here, but that was oddly tiring.

“Homura…”

Homuras eyes snapped open. She wasnt in her room anymore. She looked around, panicking. She was on the roof of the school again, with the blue sky and fluffy clouds above. She was dressed in a black flowing dress, and the wind blew in her hair, some of it catching in her mouth. She recognized that voice, but surely it wasnt…

“Madoka??” She shouted, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Homura!” Madokas voice rang through the oddly quiet rooftop. Homuras head snapped around, finally catching Madoka sitting on the bench. She was dressed in a white dress, barefoot. “Come sit with me,”

“Madoka….” Homura whispered, shakily walking forward. Her knees buckled under her, causing her to collapse to the ground wracked with grief.

“Darling, its ok, its gonna be ok,” Madoka said, walking to where homura was sat.

“Your not here madoka, your gone,” Homura shook, feeling Madoka crouch next to her.

“No, i know. Its cruel how dreams treat us like this, preying on our emotions.” She paused, resting a hand on Homuras shoulder. “Let's pretend this is real, ok?” She met homuras gaze, smiling sadly.

Homura nodded, sniffing and wiping her eyes. “Can i ask you something madoka?”

“Of course dear,”

“Are you happy? Are you genuinely happy?” She murmured, voice breaking.

“I am. Oddly enough, even though i am gone in your world i feel that i have been with you this whole time. And… i miss you. I wish i could come home. I miss you so.. so much.” She said, tears running down her cheeks.

Suddenly Homura embraced her, sobbing into her shoulder. “I miss you too!! I miss you more than anything madoka, why did this have to happen to us??” She cried, feeling madokas tears hit her back.

“I dont know,” madoka whispered, hugging back. “I wish it went differently, but its too late now. Lets just enjoy this dream.. before it…” madokas voice got quiet, and homura let go. She looked at madoka, gasping as she slowly faded away.

“Madoka!! Madoka dont leave me!! I-”

“I love you too homura,”

Homura sat up, gasping. She was back in her room, dressed in her pajamas again. Madoka was gone again. The dream was over. And she knew she would never see that face again.

[l0verei]

THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING NEW. - CLEAN START AU

[ ART IS BELOW ]

. . . Showtime , great . Just what the ginger simian least wanted right now , the crowded eyes all on him and the thought made his stomach quease in fear but that thought washed away once he felt the light tap upon his shoulderblade . "Hey, you've been tapping your foot a lot. Nervous?" The dark-furred simian commented to Wukong,

"Terrified."

The king mutters under his breath , lip quivering as he didn't hold eye contact for even a mere second , and for once the warrior felt sympathetic , of course he was never going to show his vulnerability even if he wanted to .They were still on … Simple terms but a little communication couldnt hurt . "If anything, just follow my lead, or listen to the rhythm--" The spotlight on stage was hollow , distracting Macaque from his train of thought , awaiting for the cue. "Ready?" "No, but as long as this helps get out of my comfort zone."

The sage felt a light tug upon his sleeve, a signal of reassurance before Macaque heads out , starting off with a few movements , flowing effortlessly like a river, and for a moment Wukong almost had convinced himself he was in a dream , shaking his head and hesitantly stepping out and feeling the gazes.

The king trailing alongside the warrior , stiff and ragged motions as his breath was heavy , the warrior noticing the tension , mouthing out .

"Remember, eyes on me." Once he read the other’s lips , he began to steady his breathing , shifting his attention to the graceful simian in view . He felt the tension but it was less noticeable , the spotlight gleaming against the attires , spinning round and round , a dance only the two could connect with , and for what seemed like an eternity the music stopped .

The cheers of people roaring as the two were both drained but satisfied , the lights dimming and the curtain closing as they exit the stage . "That wasn't bad for your first time I guess.." "Well you have more experience than I do, bud." -- They both pause , realizing this was the first few moments in centuries where they havent fought , of course the king spoken up first . "Besides I could have done that a whole lot better!" Macaque merely lets out a playful scoff .

"You just had to ruin the moment huh?..-- Still the same ol' Wukong." Wukong on the other hand , brow twitching as he grumbles out . "As if your any better--" Before he could even finish, the humming of a portal opening and closing , catching him off guard and sighing , smiling for a moment before heading out , and for once the king had experienced . . Hope , that the two would soon have that same bond once again , even if it would take one small step at a time , after all .

" Even a smidge makes all the difference ."

[grrw--boy]

•Sweat dreams•

Morpheus takes care of his sleepless lover♡ (morpheus x gn!reader)

Prompt: so many things got pilled up so you're unable to sleep properly for the last days, and morpheus decides it has been enough.

Tw: anxiety, trauma(?, fluff, comfort.

Its has been a hell of a month, maybe even a hell of years.

You'd haved never had a peacefull life, but lately life seems harder than ever, days feel longer and even more tiring, that not even the soft carress of my lover seems to erase the frown on my face.

Morpheus, dream, my love, he has always helped me feel normal, calm, wanted. So i cant help but feel guilty of being so distant from him lately, knowing full well he always tries to help me in any way he can.

But i cant really help it, can't i?

Work has been anything but gentle, with the amount of late doing work i have, im almost restless, not really taking breaks ethier.

Morpheus was anxious, scared even, he knew your work was tiring but this looks extreme.

Its been days since he saw you in your dreams before youd woken up a few hours later, and even in your own dreams you looked exhausted with dark eyebags and a marked scowl on your pretty face

So he had enough

Everyone has bad days so he though youll be okay in a few days, but it has been weeks, so he decided to visit you when he finally had time to. As this not only worried your fisical state but your mental state too.

He remebers years ago when youll end breaking down in his arms, telling him how you couldnt go on like this in tears.

He'd never wish to see you so sadly lonely again, it would personaly pain him too much.

So after he had remotily finished his work he was running to see you.

You where comsuded by another work fit at 3 am when you heard a knock to your aparment door, in confusion of who might be visiting, you shouted a wait to the door while stoping your work and rushing to the door*

"Who is it?" You move your hair to look more presentable trough your stress.

"Its me dear,-" at hearing his voice after so much time you open the door without second thougth, not letting him finish his phrase, seeing your certain tall, blue eyed lover.

"-morpheus." He chuckles at your eageress to see him, but quickly noticed your tired look, unsurpsingly.

"My dea-" "morpheus!, what are you doing here?, so late... is everything alright?" Your voice quickly changes to worry while you question the reason of his visit.

"No, no, dear, everything its okay i just..." he sighes before saying "missed you, we havent seen eachother in a few weeks and i have noticed you havent being coming to the dreaming a lot ethier" he finishes while coming inside as you opened the door more for him to come in.

"Yes i- i have been busy lately, im sorry love, i think i didnt realise we havent seen eachothee in that much..."

"Theres nothing to be sorry about my dear, i know you're stressed, i want to help you" he notices the amount of work in your desk "and its quite late too, you need rest, and love. come on to bed now" he holds your arm to the bedroom.

"B-but morpheus! Theres to much to fini-" "no, to bed now, tomorrow youll finish your chores, when you're well rested"

You sigh giving up, as you cant convice the dream lord of anything especially about your care, and because the offer didnt sound so bad.

Morpheus gides you into bed before turning of the lights in the office, going to laid with you and give you your well needed rest. He goes to hold you as you get more comfortable next to him, already feeling sleep taking over you while feeling dream kissing your forehead and rubbing your head as you cuddle with him.

Before you knew it you were magicly falling asleep in your lovers embrace, feeling some beat of calmness in a long time, before hearing some soft whispers of your lover, knowing youll get some enticing dreams tonight

"Sleep well my love, ill see you in a moment".

[heymeowmao]

2024.04.29 - https://weibo.com/l/wblive/p/show/1022:2321325028561374544131

I'll stream for a while then go~~

bgm: 落了白 (Falling White) - Jiang Xue’er

LYN: Hallo everybody, good evening. I am Modern Brothers Liu Yuning. Welcome to my livestream~ Long time no see. I feel like I haven’t seen you in a long time, so I wanted to have a nice chat with you before my next drama starts airing. C: Act more normal. LYN: I’m not acting abnormal?? Are you starting to have something against me, now? Is it that you havent seen me in too long so I feel unfamiliar? I’m being very normal right now, and you want me to “act more normal”? What counts as “normal”? C: Ning-ge, you’re so gentle. LYN: In your hearts am I a very fierce and cruel person? Or do I normally have a bad temper and I yell a lot? No, right? I’ve always been this gentle.

C: The sound is much lower. LYN: /speaks directly into the mic/ Is it too low? I just need to pull the mic closer. 

C: You haven’t eaten, so you have no strength? LYN: No, I’ve eaten. I had a meal before starting the stream. I ordered some takeout. Otherwise I was afraid I would pass out in the middle of the stream. I ate something before I started.

C: Don’t be so gentle. I feel uncomfortable when you’re not backtalking at me. LYN: Are you sadistic? You need me to backtalk you in order to feel comfortable? That’s weird. 

LYN: I don’t know if I’ll have the time to stream once filming starts up, because shooting a drama keeps me pretty busy. My last drama ZLYM- I actually didn’t have that many scenes. I had very few, and I didn’t have time to stream. I’ll have more scenes in this drama (SJYM/A Dream Within A Dream), so if I had to predict then… I would have even less time to stream. Today’s stream is a preemptive measure- so that you’ll be aware that my future streaming schedule will not be very frequent. Please understand.

bgm: 狂風襲來 (Fierce Wind Raid) - West Out of Yumen/Parallel World OST

LYN: I have a lot to do. If I were only an actor I would probably have more time. But I can’t let go of music, and there’s also the streaming so… I don’t have enough time. I guess I’m also getting older, too… C: You also have variety shows. LYN: The Truth is almost finished- I’ll go one more time and we’ll be done shooting for it. After that, I’ll stay in the drama crew a while. I just need to go to shoot The Truth one more time- a two-day session, then it’s over. LYN: It’s a variety show I like a lot. I went to the first season, and the people there were great. Honestly, I rarely make friends. I can only make some if I’m working with them, shooting a drama or variety show together. I made a lot of friends after shooting season 1, and I’ve made a lot of friends after this season as well. Of course, some of those friends are already old friends. Zhou Keyu and Bai Yu, for example. We shot the first season together. I’m close with Reba, because we’ve worked together twice already. This variety show counts as our third partnership. Now there’s Zhang Linghe and Xun-ge. Xun-ge, I actually did work with before, but that was just roughly. Jin Jing also came to film with us this season. It’s nice to be able to make some friends. It’s a happy thing. Later I will be properly focused on shooting the drama and I won’t have much of anything else going on. 

LYN: There are people making fun of me for being scared. Friends. You already saw how scared I got when we shot the prologue. Friends- you might not understand. I was pretending on purpose. Honestly, I wasn’t scared one bit. I wasn’t afraid. I was pretending. Pretending to be cute. I was thinking since my face is so old, if I acted a little cute, would it make the viewers like me a little more? I was just pretending. You can see my performance in the later episodes. I stop pretending, then. I come clean. Don’t believe in what you see, I was just pretending. Pretending to be scared. What’s there to be afraid of? It’s not scary. Just watch me in the later episodes- there’s not one shred of fear in me. Yeah… really. Believe me. C: I can’t believe you at all. LYN: Believe me. I’m not afraid at all, later. You’ll see. 

LYN: The second season should be a pretty good watch. We could tell when we were shooting it- it’s actually very interesting. We’re a good group of people and we had fun together. The other thing is that I don’t record variety shows often- I don’t much have the time, and there are few I want to be on- so when I am on a show I’m always very happy. I’m happy and relaxed. When I’m not too busy with work, I can find a fun project. While I’m playing, it also counts as work which is nice. I was happy to record this variety show. LYN: Every time I go to record for a variety show, I- 

bgm: Truthfully = A1 Trip/DOBI

LYN:  When I go to record for a variety show, when the time comes for it to end, I feel like I don’t want to let it go. I feel like I only just got close with my new friends and we’d only just worked out how to get along. We’d only just reached the point where we could rely on each other, so having to part with them makes me sad. So… the last time we recorded, I had asked the producer, “Will this program have a season three?” They said, “There will be.” I told them, “I remember the last season, I asked you this same question. You made me wait three years.” /sigh/ And then I asked, “What about the third season?” They told me the third season would come quickly. I replied, “Does it depend on how well this season rates? If KSTLB2 flops, would a third season be hard to pull off?” They did not respond. They used silence as the answer. LYN: The moment they lowered their head I understood. I saw clearly the truth of the situation. The cruelty of it. So, friends, when KSTLB2 starts airing, I hope that each one of you here can promote this very good variety show, this easily consumable variety show, this show that makes you think, this show with a group of youthful and good-looking men and women- to your parents and elders, and brothers and sisters. Okay? Thank you, everyone.

C: I’ve watched the whole first season and can tell you all about it from memory. Looking forward to S2. LYN: There’s a problem with S2… wait- would saying this be bad for the program? /laughs/ The gameplay of the second season is different from the first. Our trust will be on thinner ice. Our mutual trust in one another- that friendliness and closeness one feels upon first meeting- will come back to hit us in the face. For example, when we first see each other: “Good morning! How did you sleep? Not bad? Let’s see what we’ve got for us today. I hope we can solve the mystery quickly.” We’re smiling and everyone’s faces are full of… kindness. But once this game starts- there are five fixed players and each week we’ll get a guest sixth- there’s a murderer among the six of us in each episode. So… the whole process is just us suspecting one another. Indiscriminately suspecting, indiscriminately provoking, indiscriminately attacking. Which leads to…

LYN: Last week, I know you saw me wearing a red wig, right? I’m telling this to my fans, since they would probably follow the spoilers about me- I recorded an episode in a red wig. While we were recording that episode, BY kept singling me out. He kept saying, “LYN’s not normal today.” “Liu-ge, you’re not normal today. This is too out of the ordinary. I have a feeling you’re the murderer.” I asked, “Why?” He said, “Because you’re not talking. This is too different from normal. You haven’t spoken a word all day.” I replied, “It’s not that I don’t want to talk, it’s because my hair is being pulled too tightly. The wig is too tight and it’s affecting my ability to think and respond to people normally. Those functions have disappeared. They suffocated.” Half an hour with that wig was okay. Over an hour and it’s a headache. I feel like it was leaving stress marks on my skull. I filmed with it for several hours. After that day I felt like my soul was squeezed out. I was trying to explain to him, “My wig hurts too much. It’s so uncomfortable. I know it looks good, but the cost is too great. It hurts so much.” He said, “I don’t believe you. We’re all adults. How could a person as smart as I am be tricked by your excuses? I’m right. You are the murderer.” Of course, I can’t tell you if he guessed right or wrong. :) LYN: You can imagine- The wig starts from here, and it’s wrapped around your whole head. All that’s left is a mouth. XD It separates your brain from your mouth- do you know that feeling? It’s like a barrier in the middle. Your thinking, logic, and speech is no longer under your brain’s control. 

C: What are you drinking? LYN: Tea. It’s uh... some tea.

C: How many episodes is KSTLB? LYN: It should be around 10 or so? I think it’s 10, and they’re spilt between part 1 and part 2. I’m not sure. Are parts 1 and 2 aired on the same day? I’m not clear on the specifics. They only gave ten episode’s worth of pay. XD I’m guessing how many episodes there are based on how many episode’s worth I was paid for. 

C: How much do you get paid an episode? LYN: /whispers/ What’s it to you? Does it have anything to do with you? LYN: Also- they pay you for this variety show? I had to buy tickets to get inside. It’s a restricted area and you normally need a ticket to get inside. I bought tickets. They pay? I didn’t know! The production team didn’t tell me. Next time I’ll ask the other guests if they were paid to come on the show. At the time, they told me that if I wanted to be on the program I’d have to send the producer a 200rmb red envelope. I thought about it for three days and in the end I didn’t send it. They were supposed to give me money? Wasn’t it that I had to pay to be able to be on it??

C: If I give 400rmb, can I go in and be a ghost? LYN: You want to be an NPC? You want to PAY to be an NPC? I don’t think you can do that.

C: Is Zhuo Bufan coming? LYN: I saw online that Heroes (Tian Xing Jian) would air on May 4th. I think it’s fake news. I saw the posts- someone online said that TXJ would air on 5/4 and many of my fans were discussing it, saying, “Waa~ ZBF is coming!!” I think it’s fake news. Why? Because they only send me the OST yesterday. They send me the OST yesterday, and I need to go record it. Think about it- the OST isn’t even recorded yet, so how can it air?? So that’s… probably false.

LYN: Later when I’m not doing this job anymore, I can… become an yxh that knows more accurate information than any other yxh. C: Ning-ge, it seems like you would be happy to do it. LYN: No- I’m just saying some nonsense!! It looks to me like being an yxh is really easy, is all. If I want to do it, I’m sure that I could be successful at it. I could be big. Even a media company. I think I can make it. You’ve just got to think of different paths. Being in more than one industry is useful.

- /hears some banging from upstairs?/ LYN: ??? - C: Let us know when you’re looking for employees. LYN: Ok. - C: What’s that sound? LYN: I think the upstairs neighbors are fighting. I don’t know who lives up there, but sometimes in the middle of the night I’ll hear things falling on the floor. There are always some sounds that rouse me. But it’s okay because I always make noise for other people, too. I can sit here in the night listening to music and no one complains about me. So if other people bang and drop things on the floor, I won’t complain about them either. But these past few days I’ve gathered that the people upstairs are playing mahjong. The sound is of the tiles hitting the floor. I’m guessing that after the machine shuffled the tiles they accidentally drop the tray of tiles on the floor. They were probably about to win, got excited, and their tiles dropped.

bgm: 天光 (Heaven Light) - Chongzi OST

LYN: I went to record a song the other day. It’s one I sang with another person, and it should probably be released in a few days. It’s… you’ll know when you hear it. It was a pretty good job, so when it comes out please pay it some attention. I’ve sung a song with someone, and it’ll come out in a few days. I’ve actually done a lot of things in secret.   

C: I’ve finally caught up to a fresh stream. LYN: Alrighty. A “fresh” stream is nice.

C: Lao-da, talk about your music variety. LYN: The thing on Jiangsu Satellite TV? (音乐潮计划/Music Wave Project) We’re still in talks about it, but if there’s any progress I’ll let you know.

C: When is KSTLB officially airing? LYN: This, I really don’t know. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. So don’t ask me. You can just wait for the news. It should be soon, because I know the first couple of episodes are already made. There’s a… song that we recorded and they’ve sent that to us to listen to as well. 

----- Bodhi Seeds > Walnuts

C: I saw the walnuts. LYN: Lately I’ve gotten into polishing walnuts. I don’t know if any of you are like me- once you start with something, you start also thinking about how you can apply it to other things. One thing at a time, you start buying more and more. The more you see, the more easily you buy it. Are any of you like that? There’s just more and more. I can’t stop myself. In the past two years, when I first got into it, I was handling bodhi seeds (passionfruit hashplant). I kept buying them, of all sorts of different varieties. After playing with those for a couple of days, I didn’t find it fun anymore and gave them away to my friends and staff. At a certain point, I had enough of playing with the bodhi seeds. I started playing with Xingyue bodhi. I kept buying them, of all sorts- /describes the types/- and when I was done with them I gave them away. Then I spent a little more and started playing with the Fengyan bodhi. Fengyan bodhi are- to my understanding- the more expensive of the bodhi types. The pricing is actually a little ridiculously expensive. You see me wearing a strand around a lot. (People comment on the price of them, and he just wants you to know they’re a more expensive/higher grade.) Don’t call then cheaper than they are. LYN: At first I bought a 9mm-108 strand, but no matter how I handled it, I felt like they were too big so I gave them away. How did I do it? I separated it into three sections, and gave the two smaller sections to friends. There was a longer strand and the last time Da Fei-ge came for the Carnation Music Festival, right? When they came, I gave Ah Zhuo a strand of Passion Bodhi seeds. Then I gave a larger set of Qilingyan- a lot of you probably don’t know what I’m talking about. I gave him a set of Qilingyan, but he also wanted a set of smaller ones so I gave him that longer section of the Fengyan. After that, I started playing with the 8mm, not 9mm. Now I’ve moved on to the Jingang bodhi. It’s not particular, and I can play with it however I want.

LYN: And nowadays I’ve set my sights on walnuts. I’ve bought a bunch like the baishizi, guanmo, hamatou, and whatnot. I kept buying them, so now I’ve started to polish them. 

C: You’re a health and wellness streamer. (?) LYN: I’m not. But if I brought you my box of beads to show you, you would really think I am. C: Show us. LYN: Nah. - /makes a comment that he really shouldn’t be playing anymore because it’s a waste of money and it’s addicting./ - [t/n: I got lost, so this is the best I could do.]

LYN: I think I’m going to stop at walnuts, though. One day I was recording for the show and I told ZLH I was starting to polish walnuts. When we’re there, both as guests, isn’t it a good thing to try and find common topics of conversation and get some screentime? Friends- in your life and work, if you want to get closer to a person you have to find a topic of conversation that the other person enjoys talking about. For example, if they like talking about skiing, you can ask them about it. Through this topic, you can speak more to each other and understand one another better. So that day I struck up conversation with him, “ZLH. I’ve started to polish with walnuts lately. I heard it’s also a hobby of yours?” But it wasn’t because I knew that he polished them that I started! I just coincidentally saw that it was related to him, so I asked him about it. But he said, “I don’t polish them.” I said, “Oh?? Then…” It was a little embarrassing. “I heard that your fans are called “Walnuts”? I thought that because you liked to play with them, your fans started calling themselves that as a linkage.” Because people who like to play with the walnuts polish/rub them, so I thought his fans called themselves “Walnuts”. But… (that’s not the case). It was pretty awkward. C: Why would you make that connection? LYN: Because a lot of you tell me to stop playing with the beads and to play with you instead! I thought it was some preference for fans to adopt the name of the thing that their favorite artist likes. For example, some artist likes driving cars, so their fans would call themselves “Little Cars”. I don’t know if that’s actually a thing, though? Like, “Don’t drive cars, drive me instead.”?? 

C: Ning-ge, then we are called “chuan” (串)]! LYN: This name isn’t really good… C: Then from now on we will be called “chuan-jie”. LYN: No, no. It’s not a good name. “Chuan” isn’t normally used to describe humans. It’s used to describe… other things. So please, friends, don’t stick yourself with nonsensical labels. 

bgm: Young Captain队长 & ODD Chen Sijian - 超感 (Super Sense)

LYN: Some of you don’t get what “chuan” means, right? It’s used to describe small dogs. I’m explaining because you don’t get it, I don’t mean to insult you. It’s just that someone asked me what it meant, so I’m letting you know. “Chuan” is typically used to describe animals like small dogs. Let’s say you have a dog and it’s a golden retriever. If it has a pup with a samoyed, that mixed-breed would be called a “chuan.” If I say it like that, do you get it now? It mean it’s a mixed-breed. Yeah… That’s how people usually use the term. 

-----

C: We’re called “Yang Di.” LYN: XD I saw your comments on that. Did it air yesterday or today? I forgot. Hello Saturday. Oh, it was the day before yesterday. I was partnered up with YD and there were some activities that required me tohold on to him. And then- - LYN: Wait- hold on. I just saw a comment that read, “Did you do cosmetic surgery again?” Hey- where do you think I look good? :) Do you think that I am better looking in some way? Where? Tell me. Say it out loud. Tell me. I want to know. Someone just asked if I had cosmetic surgery, so I want to know where they think I look nicer. Hm? - *clicks his tongue* C: Your eyes look prettier. // You eyes are bigger. LYN: Did I get double-eyelid surgery?? I opened up the corners of my eyes? C: Your skin looks more exquisite. LYN: No- that’s because of the beauty filter. LYN: I didn’t get surgery. I wouldn’t have the time to recover. Also I don’t think that cosmetic surgery can save me. If I want to change myself- change this face- I’d have to change my whole head. A project so small as cosmetic surgery can’t save me anymore. - LYN: Continuing on with YD, for the game I had to hold on to him, right? I saw there were some of you who wished you could become him. You really… Did you know in fighting there’s this method called- called… /has to do the action to get the word/ a headlock? Normally, I think a person would pass out within five seconds if they were really subject to one. 

LYN: It’s kind of hot. Let me turn on the AC. I’ll go turn on the AC. Watch a video first, and I’ll  use the restroom while I’m up. Let me find something. There are a lot of new videos but I haven’t saved them. I’m sure you’ve already seen enough of the ones I already have. 

---------- Break #1 - 52:35-52:45 Daimi Time! LYN: Is this what they mean when they say “so hot you become a dog”? “Hot like a dog”. Is this what they mean? /to Daimi/ I’m talking about you. It’s okay- you can open your mouth to pant. It’s okay. Continue. LYN: She just got back from a bath. My ge sent her back. She just went for a wash so now she's excited. We’ve given her a blow-dry so her fur is fluffy. C: She looks quite heavy.

LYN: Yes. C: How many kgs is she? LYN: I think she’s about 14kg now.

C: The mic receiver is too good. LYN: Yes, nowadays mics are really good.

LYN: Let me sing a song! What do you want to hear? I’ll sing it. LYN: This song is good. Let me gift it to all of you and I hope that if any of you are lost in the dark and can’t find your way, you can find you light in the darkness. This song is for you.

-- 黑夜一束光 (Praying)

LYN: I heard a song the other day I really liked, so I want to sing it. /looking it up/ Oh, that’s what it’s called. … There’s no arrangement for it. I was thinking I would sing it for fun, but there’s no track for it. LYN: ??? Why is there so much white noise?? /troubleshooting/ Let me turn off the AC. LYN: /testing/ Oh, whatever. I don’t care. Let there be white noise. It’s not the sound of rain.

bgm: 世世 (Lifetime) - The Legend of Shen Li OST

C: I want to hear 啊默契 (Till the End) LYN: Okay. I can sing that. - /starts/ /stops/ LYN: Hold on. Sorry, let me start again. -- 啊默契 (Till the End)

bgm: 撞地球 (Earth Collision) by Yu Er Qi

LYN: Let me drink some water, hold on. C: 昨日少年 (Youth of Yesterday) LYN: /sings(?) it/

C: When will you get a new drama? LYN: You- you must not be my fan. Of course, it’s okay even if you’re not my fan. There’s still a chance- a slim chance that you could still become one. My next drama starts filming tomorrow. Today is night before recording starts and I will officially start my new role tomorrow. 

C: Use that style of singing to sing 奉上 (Offer). LYN: /does it/ LYN: I usually sing just like this, and what you hear when it’s released is what they’ve fixed during editing and production. This is how I usually sing. LYN: /sings more/ LYN: Isn’t it nice? It’s perfection. -- 奉上 (Offer) - A Journey to Love OST (tone deaf ver.) -- 奉上 (Offer) - A Journey to Love OST (ft. Daimi)

-- 一念关山 (A Journey to Love) by Richie Jen LYN: ?! Is it going to keep playing? 

-- 立剑 (Establish A Sword) by Zhang Jie Daimi: /barking/ LYN: /to Daimi/ Have you gone crazy? Huh!? What are you barking for?? LYN: I don’t really know this song ^^; Also the key is too high. It’s too high. I remember there was a previous stream in which I swore I would never sing Zhang Jie-laoshi’s songs again. Because they are too high. There’s no need to make things difficult for myself, you know?

-- 别梦寒 (Don’t Dream of the Cold) LYN: This song tires me out. I don’t really have the strength to sing this one. I can’t sing it. 

LYN: I can sing OSTs today! Let me see what OSTs LYN has sung… C: 拂晓 (Dawn) LYN: The one that just came out, right? Harbin 1944 (In the Name of the Brother)? -- 拂晓 (Dawn) - Harbin 1944/In the Name of the Brother OST LYN: Thank you. C: This song is amazing. LYN: When I received this OST, the main reason I accepted was because I haven’t released this type of song lately. I haven’t had this style of song, and it was quite nice sounding, so I accepted it. 

LYN: Am I trending? For real? I’m such a small-fry artist, but I have the honor to be trending? I don’t believe it. Let me find another OST… LYN: Hold on… there’s no rush… - /hums a little of 如果爱还记得 (If Love Still Remembers) - Wonderland of Love OST/ LYN: I know what to sing. I should sing this, shouldn’t I? By all means, I should sing it. (bc LYT is the lead ) -- 朝暮 (Morning and Evening) - Warm on a Cold Night OST LYN: Thank you. C: What song is this? LYN: I can’t believe so many of you are asking what song this is. My fans all know it, right? If you don’t know, then I think that’s also okay, because I release a lot of songs so if you can’t remember them, that’s fine.

C: Trending in the Entertainment tab at 32. LYN: It’s all positive, right? What I mean by that is no one is in there hating on me, right? “What gives LYN the right? When he looks so ugly??” It’s nothing like that, right? What are the contents of the trending topic at 32, friends? It’s not a new “melon” that says I’m in a new drama and who I’m acting alongside, and the comments are all people asking “What gives LYN the right?”, right? C: It’s positive. LYN: Oh, okay. Then it won’t get a very high ranking. I’ll drop off of it in a bit. C: It’s “LYN_Livestream”. LYN: That’s okay, then. I’ll drop off of it later. Usually all the topics that are hating on me rise up in ranks quickly. But for a small-fry like me, just being trending is thanks enough. I’m thankful to have you.

C: I want to hear 愿光 (Wish Light). LYN: Let me see if I have it. I really haven’t sung this live before, have I? I can’t sing it, because it’s not on this platform… Forget it. I won’t sing it, then. I won’t open the other app because it’s complicated to go between them.

LYN: There is one song I really like! I don’t think I’ve sung it before. Sometimes I don’t sing them live because I’m afraid that I won’t be able to. There are some songs that I know while I’m recording them are so difficult to sing and record. When I look back on them, I’m afraid to sing them because I’m afraid I won’t be able to pull it off. Oh, but there isn’t a track for this song. - 隐侠 (Hidden Hero) - 赘婿 (Zhui Xu/My Heroic Husband) Donghua Opening Theme LYN: Let’s forget it, since there’s no track for it.

LYN: This works, right? It’s also an OST. If I’m remembering correctly it’s for the Palace Museum, right? An OST to promote the Palace Museum… I really like this song. It’s about the inheritance of our national treasures. -- 传承 (Inheritance) - Palace Museum Cultural Relics Promotion Song

C: 千里江山 (The Vast Land) LYN: I can do that.

C: 一生有多远 (How Long is a Lifetime) LYN: How does that one go? It’s one of my songs, right? /looks it up/ Oh, it is my song. You know what is suitable for this song? If you have a cup of coffee- oh, no. Coffee doesn’t work. It’s a more nostalgic song. I don’t think I’ve ever sung this live. Let me give it a try. Actually I don’t remember if I have sung it or not. I forgot. I can try. - /misses the timing/ LYN: The mic just broke. There was just a little problem with it. Excuse me. It’ll be good in a sec. Let me make adjustments. Sorry. Yeah, the stream froze. - /water asmr/ LYN: Let me try that again. Apologies. - /Daimi starts barking & growling/ LYN: ?!? LYN: She’s trying to steal my limelight. /sigh/ - /walnut asmr/ LYN: Is the sound of them loud? D: /growl/ LYN: Shush! -- 一生有多远 (How Long is a Lifetime) - The Curious Tale of Mr. Guo LYN: Sorry- I’m not really familiar with this song. I’ve already forgotten it; it’s been too long. Next time I’ll learn it properly and sing it for you. Sorry. /keeps apologizing/ C: It froze! LYN: It didn’t freeze, I just forgot how to sing it. It’s been way too long! And I haven’t ever sung it. Sorry.

LYN: Let me see what else I have… what other OSTs. /types in “OST”/ Oops. I meant to type “LYN”. /sigh/ - 专属蓝天 (Always Be With You) - Dance of the Storm OST - 烟火星辰 (Fireworks and Stars) - You Are My Glory OST LYN: This will do. - /narrates/ -- 莫问前程 (Don’t Ask About the Future) - White Cat Legend OST LYN: Thank you. How awesome is this song?!

C: 向死而生 (Live to Die) LYN: I don’t think I can sing it live. I’d have to be in really great condition to be able to pull it off. When I finish singing that song I “want to die”. (向死 (towards death) vs 想死 (thinking of death) - homophonic joke) I really like the song, I really do. But it kind of makes me “want to die” when I sing it. Let me see… How about I give it a try? -- 向死而生 (Live to Die) - Burning Flames OST - /cracks at the chorus/ /clears his throat/ LYN: The mic broke a little just now. It’s super unstable. Let me try again. -- 向死而生 (Live to Die) - Burning Flames OST [take 2] - /pulls off the chorus this time/ /clicks his tongue/ /finishes up with minimal difficulty/

C: Let’s chat. LYN: /nods/ Ok.

-----------

bgm: Fall in Love

LYN: I want to thank everyone who is watching my stream right now. If at this moment you have not subscribed to my weibo, please do so. Thank you. I know many of you might be watching my stream for the first time. It’s nothing special and there’s no particular uniform. I just come when I have some time and chat with my fans, sing a few songs, and help everyone relax a little. That’s all.

C: How do I send presents? LYN: My presents are closed, here. This stream is a benefit for you all. You don’t need to spend a dime for it. But I hope that one day when I have a concert, you have enough money to buy a ticket and see me live. Okay? Thank you.

C: Ning-ge, when will you start filming? LYN: I start tomorrow, but I don’t know when the official “start” date is. I’m not sure because I don’t really care about that type of thing. As an actor, all I need to do is work on pulling off my scenes well. As for promotion… /trails off/

C: When you were being interviewed didn’t you tell us “Just you wait” because you were going to scare us? LYN: I wanted to at first, but I thought about it and decided to forget it. I thought about scaring you by telling you I was going to stream tonight, and then not streaming. Do you think that type of scare is big or not?

C: Why didn’t you sing this song on Hello Saturday? LYN: Right- because I needed to sing a song with a “beverage” in the lyrics, right? “Whiskey and ice, my music and you.” You’re right. I didn’t think of it. There were too many songs, I couldn’t react quickly enough. 

LYN: The thing I like about streaming on weibo is that it is always upgrading with new functions. Many of you have the special effects, when you type. You can also turn the special effects off, so it won’t affect your typing. In the menu, you can select to turn off the special effects.

C: Ning-ge, will  KSTLB still have a press conference? LYN: The Truth… press conference… we recorded it already, that day. There are spoilers online, aren’t there? Of us wearing school uniform-style? That’s the press conference and it will probably be aired later. I don’t know. I’m sure it will at some point. The program prepared a huge amount of content. Other than the main episodes, we recorded a lot of… other stuff.

bgm: 万物盛开法则 (The Law of Everything in Bloom) - Da Zhangwei

C: Is  KSTLB2 scary? LYN: It’s terrifying. But I was not afraid. This time around I show a very manly side to myself. I’m more firm this time, because I’ve already seen through all of the program’s tricks. LYN: I was only scared into crying, is all. LYN: It’s okay. You can watch when it comes out. It’s quite fun.

C: Lao-da, please I’m begging you to flip me. LYN: I’ve flipped you.

C: Tell me, is Reba really beautiful in person? LYN: /laughing/ Why are you spamming that? There’s really no meaning in you doing that. There’s no point. Other than someone who’s “250” (a fool or someone who doesn’t take things seriously) like me, no one else would dare to respond. LYN: The way I see it, if you only think of a girl in terms of “pretty” or “not pretty”, then I think you’re really shallow. Do you understand? My stance is that if you only care about her appearance and not her mind, then you’re a little shallow.

LYN: My hope for KSTLB2 is that- Ive said before that it’s a program that I really like. We had great time shooting the first season. When it aired us cast and viewers had a great time watching. There was a great atmosphere around it. I hope that this time the atmosphere will be equally as good. Because… when you record together for a few days you start to develop this inexplicable group cohesion. I hope that when you’re watching- to my fans, at least- you don’t watch with a competitive eye. You’re not watching to compare who is better looking or smarter than the others- it’s not that type of show. We’re watching for entertainment, and relaxation is the key. If you’re watching with any intentions in mind, you won’t be able to “see” anything. 

C: You look a little like LYN. LYN: Really? I get that a lot. 

C: Did you have fun playing with water on Hello Saturday? LYN: It was quite fun, actually! Last time I went to Changsha I had the time to shoot two episodes. The crew is really great. If there’s any ever plans for fun content for the show, they will contact my studio to see if I have time and am interested in going to play. We’re having fun. I’m pretty close with the group, too. Before, I was always in the drama crew and didn’t dare to go. But this time I happened to have two day’s worth of time, so I asked them how many episodes they were planning to record for. They told me they were recording two episodes, so I asked if I could do both. I was going to be in Changsha anyway, so if I could record two eps in the same trip, wouldn’t that be great? They agreed, so I went and got shot with water. It was pretty tiring, though. And I… didn’t come out of it uninjured. I was pummeled. LYN: You saw the episode the other day, right? The part when we needed to grab the flowers off a player’s back? I was able to grab it and then fell to my knees, right? And then I started heading for the goal- C: Face breaks. (when he was intercepted and scooped up by Yu Yang) LYN: No, not the face break. It doesn’t have to do with that. I was on my knees and the pants- they’re like exercise pants- they rubbed off a layer of skin on my knee. When I went to Disney later my knee hurt. It straight removed a layer of my skin. It’s okay now, though. /shows us his knee/ It was fierce. I gave it my all. LYN: I thought it was a lot of fun, though. I used the time to relax. It’s nice to be able to record for a show and have fun doing it. The guests were all great and we had fun playing together. C: In the end the flower was stolen by someone else. LYN: It’s okay. I’m really just gong there to have fun. Some variety shows are like a vacation for me. I don’t consider them as work. Hello Saturday is one of them- I only go to play.

C: What’s the scar on your left hand? LYN: Huh? There’s no scar. What scar on my hand? I don’t have one. Do you really think I’m so fierce? I used to have a nickname called “Knife Scar Liu”. /laughs/ I am the “Boy with Knife Scars”- I have scars from knives on my hands. Super fierce.

C: /commenting it’s their b-day/ LYN: Is someone celebrating their birthday today? What a coincidence. Since it’s your birthday and I’m streaming, I’ll wish you a Happy Birthday. Okay? Happy Birthday~ 

C: It’s my 13th marriage anniversary, and I hope to get your blessing. LYN: You have my blessings! I’m jealous that you have such a happy marriage. 13 years today, is it? Then, I’ll gift a song about love to you. What’s a good song to celebrate your 13th marriage anniversary with? And don’t you joke with me, saying 分手快樂 (Happy Breakup). A proper song. Something that wishes people health and happiness. Is there any song like that? C: The Song of Tui Town (KSTLB S2 Theme) -- The Song of Tui Town

LYN: Not that! I was just kidding. What song is there? C: 甜蜜蜜 (Sweet on You) LYN: … C: 给你给我 (Give You, Give Me) LYN: Alright, let’s do it. All of his songs are on the other platform. I’ll give it to you and open it up… LYN: Let me find the lyrics. I just wanted to try, to see if I could sing it in this key. // There are no lyrics, here. It’s okay- let me look them up on my phone. LYN: This is for the friend who is celebrating their 13th year marriage anniversary, and for all of you who are celebrating your 10th year marriage anniversaries. I hope your marriages are all full of happiness and fulfillment. I’m happy that you’re able to be together. -- 给你给我 (Give You, Give Me) by Mao Buyi LYN: That’s about enough. But since I’ve opened this app I might as well look at what other songs I can sing.

LYN: Okay, forget it. They don’t have it. That’s enough, I guess. I couldn’t find it. C: 愿光 (Wish Light) LYN: Oh yeah. Well, since I have this app open, I might as well look it up. LYN: There’s no track for it. There’s really no track for it. - /hums along instead/ -- 愿光 (Wish Light) - The Legend of Anle OST

----------- Break #2 (the neighbors are fighting) bgm: 如果爱还记得 (If Love Still Remembers) - Wonderland of Love OST

C: What is the story of SJYM about? LYN: I don’t know. I’m not even in that drama. I told you last time, didn’t I? The account followed me because they want me to sing the OST. How would I know what the story is about? I’m not qualified to look at the script. C: Didn’t you accept the OST? LYN: Yeah, but do I need to read the script to find out the story in order to sing it? You must be joking. Do you think there are no rules in this industry? C: Ning-ge, you lied. You’ll gain 10kg. LYN: I didn’t lie. How would I know what the story is about?

bgm: 黑夜一束光 (Praying)

LYN: Maybe it’s because we had made a prior agreement, that they would let me go cameo in a role. We’ve worked together before, so maybe I could cameo for them. The agreement was a song and a cameo. I agreed and told them that if I had more time, I could cameo in more than just a few scenes. I could show my face and it’d count  as another project with them.  

C: What are you doing tomorrow? LYN: … I’ll be filming with a drama crew tomorrow. I have my own scenes to do. We start filming tomorrow and I’ll have to log off later and do my homework. I’ll be starting in my new crew tomorrow. What about it? C: What drama is it? LYN: It’s a secret right now, I can’t tell you. The project is too large-scale. I need to keep it secret. LYN: Fine, I’ll tell you. It’s called- Rebirth: I am an Alien. Its a scifi drama. Ill be joining it tomorrow.

LYN: Some of you have been asking about “Chang Ling” since I’ve started streaming. I’ve never heard of it. It’s not that I’ve bever heard OF it, but just that I haven’t heard from my studio that this project has ever looked into me. Maybe they were looking for someone else, and you’ve misremembered? I haven’t heard of this project coming in.

-----

C: Lao-da, are you not off on 5/1? LYN: Ever since I started working, I’ve never known what it is to have a “holiday.” I used to be in the bar singing and and in a restaurant as a waiter. Back in those days these holidays are the days I was the busiest. Dadong is a tourist city, too. So when I was a waiter back then it was my busiest times of the year. I’ve never had a job with consistent holidays like that. C: Did they give you 3x salary? LYN: No, we didn’t get any bonus pay. You don’t see that very much in the service industry… or, I don’t now- maybe because my city was smaller. There was never any 3x salary on holidays. I’ve never heard of it.

C: Have you had 五险一金 (five types of insurance and housing provident fund)? LYN: Never. I’ve never worked in any official enterprise. I was working in restaurants and bars- there’s usually no guarantee and you don’t sign any contracts. It’s just a verbal agreement of work. Usually, like when you go to work- - D: /starts barking/ LYN: Shush! D: /growling that sounds like an engine revving/ LYN: Are you pretending to be a motorcycle?? Are you getting ready to take off? - LYN: - I’d never been in any standard job. Many of you are in college now, right? All of you who are in college or grad school will likely move on to work in a company, and those places will have the insurance and standard pay. People in the servie industry don’t have that. Most of the time we’re in verbal agreements with no official contracts. They’re afraid of you walking out or stealing a piece of rib. This is why most places will make you give a deposit. For example if you get 1200rmb for the first month, they’ll keep 800 and let you take home 400. When you want to quit, theyll return that deposit to you. When you want to quit you have to let them know one month in advance so they can find another worker, and then they’ll return the deposit to you.

C: They keep more than half of your month’s salary? LYN: Just about. C: It should be regulated now, right? LYN: I doubt it. I don’t think it’s totally unregulated, but- not like I understand it very well. When I was in the bar a few years ago, it was still like that. That’s just the way the industry is. It’s not very formal to begin with. There are no contracts, just agreements. There’s a high turnover.

C: Ning-ge, did you ever want a 9a-5p job? LYN: I don’t know. I think it’s more stable for sure, but ever since I was little I wanted to be a celebrity. So I probably decided early on that there was no way that I’d be in a 9a-5p job at some company. You all know that I’m not very highly educated, either. After high school I went straight to culinary school to learn how to be a cook. Of course, a lot of people use my education to ridicule me, saying “LYN is uneducated.” That’s why I admit to it. I’m jealous of those of you who are good at school. Many of you are in college or graduate school, learning to become doctors and professors. I’m happy for you and jealous of you. You’re all very great, so keep doing well in school. I’m sure that you’ll be doing even better than I am in the future. LYN: If you really wanted me to work 9a-5p, I don’t think I would be used to it. I have a break out personality. (does not want to be constrained)

C: Making something you like into your job is the greatest thing. LYN: It’s fun at first. Um… everyone has their own difficulties. No matter what industry you’re in, what you’re doing, or what position you hold, everyone has their own hardships. It’s just that the hardships are not all the same thing. For example, I like to sing. After I made singing into my profession, there were bound to be things I didn’t want to do. You’ll find out that things aren’t as nice as you thought they would be. Taking something you like and turning it into your job to be able to make a living IS a happy thing. But once you actually start doing it you’ll find that it’s not as happy as you thought it would be. You’ll start to feel like you’re losing something you once enjoyed. 

bgm: 我只愿朝着光 ( I Only Wish to Face the Light) - BYOL OST

C: Lao-da, I hope that you are happy. LYN: I am very happy. I’m very happy now. I’m very happy. I’m not unhappy. I’m very happy. Right now I’m… extremely happy. - [t/n: why does it sound like he’s trying to make himself believe it??] LYN: Why wouldn’t I be happy? What right do I have not to be? I have so many people who like and indulge me. I have work and people who support me. Why wouldn’t I be happy? There’s not reason to not be. Really! The reason is because “happy” or “not happy” are not important to me anymore.

C: What is important? LYN: What’s important? Of course, there are things that are important to me. That is… Wow, forget it. Do we have to talk about such deep topics?? I don’t want to. Let’s not go there. I don’t want to talk about it. Weibo is a public platform. If I speak too much on it people will say that I’m pretentious. No one will think I’m being transparent or whatever. They’ll only think I’m being pretentious. What’s there to say? Everyone has it hard. No- it’s not hard on me. Everyone has their own way of living and their own life. Our experiences are not the same. There’s no way to have empathy, so I don’t see the need to share too much. It’s all okay.

-----

C: When you were recording for KSTLB, did you have nightmares? LYN: No. It’s actually not that scary! I already told you I wasn’t afraid. Honestly! I wasn’t afraid. Not one bit.

LYN: There are more people in the comments saying, “Lao-da, I hope that you are happy.” I’ve never presented myself as a weak/vulnerable little boy, have I? I don’t need it. I’m already a man who’s into his thirties. I don’t need you to comfort me. I can get by on my own. LYN: There’s nothing wrong with me! I don’t know why, all of a sudden, the mood has taken this turn. You’re making it seem like I’m very sad right now. I’m not! I’m very happy!! If I dropped off the trending topics, I would be sad. Have I dropped? Have I dropped off the trending topic ranking, friends? Am I still there? If I am, then I won’t be sad. If I’ve dropped, then I’ll cry right away. C: You dropped. LYN: /sobs/

C: Lao-da, I want to see you act as a dominating CEO. LYN: Dominating CEO? ~ You mean to say, that you wish to see my shoulders carry a whole business empire? Alright, no problem. I want to know who the girl that posed this comment is. Get me all her information within three minutes. ~ ~ Later you can find my butler to discuss the details of our collaboration. Remember- this isn’t a discussion. It’s a notification. ~ C: That’s so greasy. LYN: How was that greasy? Aren’t they all like that??

C: I want to be the butler. LYN: ~ You wish. ~

C: Dominating CEOs themselves are greasy. LYN: That’s bs. How are they greasy? Aren’t the really popular dramas lately of the dominating CEO variety? Maybe I was overexaggerating a little bit in my demonstration. That’s the type of performance you’d see in mini dramas. But honestly… aren’t all the characters in dramas right now the dominating CEO type? They’re just not modern drama CEOs, but historical drama CEOs instead. Right? In guzhuang dramas there are the kings or whatever- aren’t they all the dominating CEO? It’s all the same, we’ve just changed the identity. The model is all the same. The guy who would rather fail the world than fail this one girl. Isn’t that the dominating CEO’s M.O? LYN: ~ Look. Ahead of you are the lands I’ve won for you. From now on, you will be my only empress. If anyone dares to touch you, I’ll have them beheaded in front of the masses. ~ LYN: Aren’t guzhuang dominating CEOs like that? It’s all the same! LYN: ~ Look. This is a hall I’ve purchased for you. You can go in and take whatever you want from any of the shops inside. ~ LYN: It’s all the same, isn’t it? Your dominating ceo is just showing up with a different identity in a guzhaung drama, is all. // A lot of warlords are the dominating ceo type. So when you tell me to act as one, I actually already have. 

C: Then, how would an alien dominating ceo act? LYN: /laughs/ Ohh, is that how it is? I was telling you that tomorrow I’ll be starting a new crew, for a drama called Rebith: I Am an Alien. How does an alien dominating ceo act? Hmm… LYN: ~ You want the Earth? Okay. I’ll take down the Earth for you. From today on, you are the lord of this planet. ~ LYN: ~ What was that? You want the Sun? Alright. I’ll order my army to move the sun over for you. ~ LYN: It’s the same. The content of the dialogue changes, but the status and aura doesn’t change.

LYN: It’s about time. I should log off early today. I’ll chat a little longer, then leave. I need to shower and then do homework for tomorrow. I’ll really be starting to film tomorow. Rebirth: I Am an Alien. I hope that when this drama airs- Since I’m just starting filming tomorrow and it’ll take about four months, so if you’re new to my stream, just passing by, or maybe you came in because of the trending topic, I hope you can subscribe to my weibo. Okay? Thank you, everyone. Tomorrow I’ll start filming for a drama called Rebirth: I Am an Alien. I hope that when it airs, you can support my drama. Okay? Now I’d like to sing a song for all the people who are watching my stream for the first time today. This song is especially for the first-time viewers, okay? Um… what should I sing? -- /tries to play 刀剑如梦/ LYN: There’s actually no track for this song. Oh my goodness. - /looking for a suitable track/ LYN: Let me pull RJL’s version, then. -- 刀剑如梦 (A Life of Fighting is But a Dream) LYN: Sorry- I didn’t get the beat right. And I don’t have any props. Let me bring my sword and it’ll have more of the right feel. Wait for me a sec. -- 刀剑如梦 (A Life of Fighting is But a Dream) [take 2] - /misses the timing to start bc he was playing with the sword XD/ - /LYN: Why is this interlude so long??/ - /EDM remix???/ LYN: I didn’t think the arrangement would be like this.

LYN: Anyways, sorry. It was a gift for new friends but it was a little rough. Let me switch to something else. What’s another song that’s very jianghu-esque? Is there any? 走天涯 (Zou Tian Ya)? 让酒 (Rang Jiu). Let’s not do Rang Jiu. 剑魂 (Soul of the Sword)... there’s probably no track for that. -- 剑魂 (Soul of the Sword) [jaunty ver.] LYN: When I sing this song It’s like I’m self-helping my back problems. If you are experiencing shoulder discomfort you can exercise it with this song. It’s great.

LYN: What other song has that feeling of the jianghu? Let me look up something from my Qi-ge. (死不了/天涯). Hey wait- why do I want to move my shoulders to every song I hear? See, this works too! It works. This has already become one of my- C: 寻一个你 (Finding You) LYN: Who sang that? /looks it up/ Oh, WHD’s song. XD -- 寻一个你 (Finding You) - Love Between Fairy and Devil OST LYN: /sigh/ That’s about enough. So if you haven’t subscribed to my weibo yet, please do so.

C: Why did you stop moving your shoulders? LYN: I started sweating. D: Friends, I really think that move has a practical function. So if you’ve got nothing to do, you can practice it. It could help straighten your spine. Or... flex your joints, or something to that effect. 

C: I hope the filming for your new drama all goes smoothly. LYN: Okay, no problem. It’s alright this time, because I’m acting as an alien. I’ll be wearing an alien’s grey skin most of the time. You pretty much won’t be able to see my face, in this drama. I’ll wear a suit. The directors chose me mostly for my height. After they add something to my shoes I’ll be more than 2m tall and I’ll look even less like something from this Earth. 

C: I look forward to your alien. LYN: Okay. You can. No problem. Don’t worry. C: Does the alien talk? LYN: I have lines. Because normally when aliens talk to you, they’ll translate it to Earth language. So I’ll be speaking Chinese like normal. LYN: ~ You foolish Earthlings! ~ C: Standard Mandarin? LYN: No, with a Northeastern accent. LYN: ~ You dumb Earthlings. I’m your alien overlord. ~ C: Does the alien have emotional scenes? LYN: Um… yes. Think about it- for a story about aliens, if you ONLY talk about aliens there’s no way you can shoot a 40 episode drama. You’d never make it. There have to be emotional scenes. Maybe he’s just wearing the shell of an alien to fall in love. A lot of dramas do that, don’t they? This one is the same. The alien and scifi aspect of it is just to draw in an audience. Mainly it’s a love story between a man and a woman.

C: Will you be alive in the end? LYN: Maybe not. Friends, it’s like this: for roles that I’ve played, you can- From the moment I started acting until now, of the roles I’ve played…staying alive was an accident/unexpected. For roles that I play, as long as they’re alive, the reaction should be, “OMG, he’s alive! He didn’t die!!” I’m sure you’d be surprised. But for most of the roles that I’ve played the death rate is extremely high. Very high. Maybe I didn’t have a good start. The very first drama I ever shot- I died. C: Jiang Junhao in BYOL didn’t die. LYN: You want me to die in a slice-of-life drama, too?? That’d be too cruel. I meant in guzhuang dramas. In those, my death rate is about 80%. In 10 roles, 8 of them die. 

bgm: 热辣滚烫 (YOLO) - YOLO Movie OST

LYN: Alright, it’s about time. Thank you for your company and support. Tomorrow I’ll be entering into my new drama crew. I hope you have a fun 5/1 break, okay? Thanks for keeping me company and for your support. It was great to have you tonight and I hope you enjoyed it. Let’s meet again in the next stream, okay? Even though I don’t know when the next time I stream will be! LYN: Goodnight, everyone!

[tpwkmadeline]

I heard your being our big sister so i just wanted to ask for some advice

This is kind of vulnerable and long so i apologize lol

So like ever since I was like 14 (im 18 now so like for four years now) i have had this thing where I have a feeling like something bad is going on. My body's always alert like something bad is going to happen to me any second. I think i might've killed my nervous system by now because GIRL im always so scared for no reason and i don't know why??

Especially at night I cant fall asleep because im so scared that ive done something so incredibly bad that someones out to get me. I always stay up late so tomorrow comes later ( i know that doesn't make sense but bare with me) with cold sweat, my heart feeling its being squeezed, the feeling of needing to throw up. And I only fall asleep after literately overthinking EVERYTHING that has ever happened to me.

Some nights if im exhausted I just sleep straight away, but like I take a while to sleep so like almost everyday is like this. It stresses me out SO BAD i can barely breathe and sometimes I'll cry from the overestimation because I just want to sleep but my thoughts are so loud omg.

Its been like this for 4 years but its gotten bad a couple months ago. I HAVENT GOT A WELL NIGHTS REST SINCE SEPTEMBER. I actually dont know who to ask for help on how to stop this.

And ALSO, I get nightmares so frequently like as frequent as normal dreams. Idk if that means anything but I thought i'd share.

So basically what im asking is if you have any tips on how to stop feeling like youre going to be killed every second of the day.

THANK YOU BOO

this sounds like a mix of adhd and anxiety. i have adhd and at night sometimes i get racing thoughts, when i’m having too many thoughts at one time so i can’t process any of them and i freak out because of it then cant sleep. i also get really vivid nightmares for weeks on end every couple of months.

i’ll be brutally honest, i take an edible (legally) to calm myself down LMAO but i know that’s not accessible to everyone. melatonin has also helped me (but sometimes i get weird dreams cause of it) but i wouldn’t do that every night because you’ll build a tolerance.

are you possibly in therapy and have mentioned this before? i have a friend who used to experience similar things and she got on anxiety medication, and hasn’t experienced that in awhile now.

[royalwriteroftheuniverse]

Returning the Stones

1-the goodbye

Just incase 18+ theres fludd angst mentions of kissing implied intimate tons of sweet kissing and tears. Comments likes ans reblogging apprexitaed. No permission to repost anywhere else or to translate or to use in any ai story generator to finish it

I stood there as steve got his last good wishes from his team mates. I stood back watching tears in my eyes. I knew he only had a certain amount and im thinking back to the cinversariin we had after it was decided hed be the onky to return them

"Why do I feel like theres a but comming"

"There is" he took my hands, "sweeetheart even tho hank pym is back theres still that adjustment period everyone is going through and he csnt make more pym particles right now"

"Cant you wait? Time will always be there for you to return it?"

He took my palm, like he does when he's  nervous and subconsciouslybdraws the same patterns he always does when he looked down.

"Yes and no. You see the way that Strange explained it is that time will continue on  and yes and while we can wait the stones not being there is affecting us here and now as in the past they arent there.  I could wait but if simething happens," he swollows hard, "something to you. I cant lose you."

"Steve nothing is going to ha-"

"You dont know that!" Hw yells and i jumo back almsot in tears.

"Im sorry, I'm sorry I didnt mean to "

"Strange said something didnt he?"

Steve looked uo with tears in his eyes and nodded. 

"It doesn't mean it will but i can't bear the thought"

"And I can't live without"

"Neither can I, if Tony was here..."

"I know" I sob a bit  as he pulls me intk his chest and cries too "if tony easnt gone id kill him all iver again."

This garners a chuckle from Steve.

"She's your last stop isnt she?"

I looked up i could only see the side if his cheek really but it was like i could see him go pale.

Not for the reasons yoy think. When insaw in the care facility, i mean yiu saw her every time she didnt remeber me and she eas so ha-

"I know happy and thrilled and saying shes worry you didnt get to live a full happy life."

It hurt me too it was so sad seeing her, I mean seing anyone like that would be saddening. 

"I just want to tell her im ok and that I survived so she doesnt have those regrets and that...."

I pulled back a little and I whipesmone side of tears from my face and he whipped the other putting his hand on my chin and guiding it making sure I can't move away as he knows how scared and fearful i must me and he looked in my eyes .

"That l, I found the love of my life and I am so happy."

I let out a small chuckle with some tears.

"You know that right? That i love you. I love ypu more than anything. And ill always come back to you. Like a bad oenny you cant losemor that cat that never stopped following yoy home,"

On cue Midnight jumoed into our laps with a meow and using her head to burrow under steves tee for warmth like she always did garnering a laugh from both of us. I pulled away a but as steve took iut of hisnshirt and talked to her 

"Youll take care off mommy right?" 

"Take care of me why woukd she need to-" I statted bawling

"Oh honey no no no i didnt mean it oh no " he put Mid night down and grabbed me chuck and tight, so tiggt i almost coukdnt breathe. "Wrong words blvery wrong words. I meant if something haooened. Lets face it i don't have greay track records when it comes to saving the world. The first time i dissapeared for decades and I don't want that to happen my last time but im afraid of tha-"

"Last time?"

"Yea," he rubbed my arms comfortly "my last time, the world doesn need me not as much as you do. And i want to give thst life yoy want because i want it too. I see the longing in your eyes when yoy see a young couoke and a baby and i have the same in mine that wishing hoping dreaming. During these five years people havent needed me and ive been wnlanting to give it uo for a while now justtrying to figure out the best way to do it and yiu know ive been slowly limiting my cap duties."

I know,

I know yiu do. So after this i want to give you that. That family a real family a couoke of mini us's." He interlocked our fingers wispering "I hope to God they look like you".

I chuckled. "Once I return the stones uts you and me babe every day forever no interruptions. Ill be in that bed every day yoy wake uo and every night you go to sleep. Ill hold yiu hair back wvery morning sickness and yoy can try and break a finger or two or try to lift molojiner when youre giving birth."

That made me laugh

"Ill hadle the night and change every littke poopy diaper and we'll hold them together wheh they get thier shots and bad dreams. Ill help you kiss thier boo boos and scare away boyfriends"

Got thiee whole lives planned out hu?

Yiu betcha dolls and when they get marriednand have little ones of thier own ill hug them and then beat uo their husbands for doing thst my little girls "

I cracked up.

"Hey I will unless its done by oamossis no one is touching my daughters."

"You are too much"

He kisses my fore head and puts hair behind my ears,

"Yea well. Only the best for my family and if best means that i have to beat up thier husbands to out then in thier place so be it"

He rubbed my wedding band and engagement ring as we calmed down for a moment of silence. 

You know I would never give you either of these if my heart bekonged to someone else, in another time or place. This wasnt because i was never, " he losed his eyes and sighhned then ooened them stuck here. I was here to find you. I felt more for you then I did her even at first look - i almost proposed."

I know  i rememeber yoy did not try and cover well for that *i laughed*

"I tried"

"Yea so badly' I laughed and  ran my fingers through his hair.

"I grew it out for you, ya know"

"I know. I cant wait to see how blonde it was from when it was in the early days of the avengers"

He chuckled. 

"I love you," he wispered and kissed the bridge of my noise 

"I love you," he wispered  and and kissed my upper cheek.

"I love you," he wispered and kissed my lower cheek

"I love you," he wispered ad kissed the other cheek 

"I love you," he wispered and kissed my other cheek bone.

"I love you," he wispered and kissed my fore head.

"I love you," he wispered and kissed fhe right side of my upper neck.

"I love you," he wispered and kissed my lips.

"I love you," he wispered and kissed the left side of my upper neck.

"I love you," he wispered and kissed the middle of my neck.

"I love you," he wispered and kissed my lips so very deep that i almost lost my brrath. And that was how that night went. Him showing his love he knew he didnt have to prove it but he did he heled me and kissed me anddid everything he wanted to so to make sure he felt like he knew i knew he loved me and more. That was how last night went too. The last night before this trip. A trio that i knew would be mear seconds for me for for him it could be years. 

Then he walked over to me, he had tears in his eyes. Hia other team mates offered to come to help only ateve, i bruce and hank pim knew that wasnt possible. 6 vials. He had 6 and that was all. I was praying of somethin did go grong that last jump hed be able to grab more particles and get back to me. I also knew about the contingency they set up the older face the extra shield, just in case. So many just in cases. It meant to be steves way of dissapearing so we could live aort of loke clint and tony away from the spotlight and danger. 

He hugged me again, wispering in my eqr Ill be back in seconds my love and i love you so much," i felt a tear fall from his face onto mine

"Itll be only minutes babe, 60 minutes the most and youll be back in my arms." I gave him reassurance

"I  hope it works out like that nur every monute ill be thinking about getting back to you,"

He hugged me tightly. "I love you. And those seconds that pass here i told bucky to not let go of your hand,"

I chuckled.

"I know you. You need a hand and he wont let go. But if you two kiss i will kill him"

I laughed what?

"I just wanted to see that smile before i go"

Get your ass back here and ill give yku something to smile about tonight.

Oh is that a threat 

"Oh no that promise," I smiled wrapping my arms around his neck and we looked into eachothers eyes and then he kissed me. 

"This ring isnt leaving this chain and this chain isnt leaving my body"

"I know" 

He took my hand as he walked up to the platform and I followed. He took his stance snd gave me one of the deepest longest kisses hes ever given me. 

"I love you dont forget im waiting right here no matter what you do to retrurn those im here loving you forever. "

"I know I promise ill come back no matrer what i love you too much." 

Steve gave me one last kiss on my lips and then a kiss behind me ear making me giggle 

"I needed to see and hear that one last time."

I felt bucky take my hand and lead me down the strairs steves and my eyes never leaving eachother's. He looked at me as he put the helmet on  and I squeezed Bucky's hand as Steve lifted his hand to presse rhe vutton and bucky squeezed mine as Steve dissapeared.

After 45 seconds my hand let go of Bucky's  but Bucky bevee ler go of mine.

(Varient timeline endings comming)

Taglist

@nana1000night @whore-for-chris-evans @sparklybarbarianninja @patzammit @hawkeyes-queen @bookishtheaterlover7 (i know im miasing a few sry ill ads when i can find the name if u want to be added let me kno)

[we-are-inevitable]

going back to that tattoo artist/actor au. i think that davey- the actor, if you havent seen the og post- would get the tattoo as a little act of rebellion to remind himself that, even with this influx of fame, he can still be his own person. he’s not just playing a part in his own life.

because davey was quick to be on the big screen after his first few auditions, which he only did as a quick way to make a little cash. at the time that david is cast for his first huge role, he’s a college student studying to become a teacher, and really only auditioned because he could barely afford rent and one of his roommates ran away and dropped out of college and now he and his other roommates have to pay the landlord the runaway roommate’s portion of the rent and david can barely afford food for himself let alone pay another person’s share of the rent and he sees an ad online and thinks why the fuck not because otherwise he’s homeless and shit out of luck. and that’s when he goes in for an audition with only two years of high school theater under his belt.

he wasn’t going for a huge role- he was auditioning for a small role as a waiter in a scene, maybe, or maybe some sort of secretary background character- but he was captivating and had a natural charm that the casting director really enjoyed. push comes to shove, they ask for him to read for a different character, and that’s what gets the ball rolling for him to be cast as a lead in a different movie. it’s a whirlwind that happens so quickly over the course of a few months, and then comes the actual filming portion, and the post-production marketing, and interviews and press conferences and red carpets and this isn’t his world, it wasn’t supposed to be his world, but the movie does *so* much better than he ever expected and suddenly he’s hollywood’s new white boy of the week.

he loves it, but it’s an adjustment, and the tattoo is almost a reset for him.

because he’s a sentimental guy, the tattoo would likely be something inspired by his movie, and yes people may think of that in a very arrogant, self-important way- but truthfully, it’s because davey knows his life is never going to be the same, and he wants to commemorate that.

his next tattoo, again done by jack, is something important to his family. but for the most part, davey gets a tattoo for every project he feels proud of; he’s like a walking scrapbook of where his career starts and progresses, and it’s always fun debuting his new tattoos for his fans.

also, because i got a lot of asks about it— davey does a lot of coming-of-age roles when he first starts, like Call Me By Your Name and Lady Bird style. dramatic, melancholic, perfectly encapsulating the fear of growing up and longing to stay who you are but know there’s a change coming. he also dabbles in comedy, but they aren’t his favorite roles; he really just loves heartwrenching dramas!

i imagine this is because he kind of,, yearned for it when he was growing up, the drama and the pain. he was blessed with a great family. every time he wanted to rebel, like when he decided he was emo in middle school, or when he was caught smoking weed as a 16 year old, his family never cared, they just made sure he was safe. and that was so great, he appreciated it so much, but what is david jacobs without the unexplainable sadness sitting deep on his chest? he would feel better with a reason for being so depressed, because then he would have an explanation. he wouldn’t just be an ungrateful fuck up like he thinks he is. so he takes the heavier roles so he can pour all of that untapped angst into them and finally have the emotional releases he’s dreamed of.

anyway yeah davey is a regular Jack Kelly client <33