#i just feel like that acting was awful and there were cut and pasted lines from the the original that were just

[areyousanta]

Just watched the first episode of the live action atla and now I gotta set things right and watch the first episode of the original show cause wow that was bad

[noirflms]

DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND — jjk men

wherein you follow an infamous tik-tok trend on them ( to get their hilarious reactions. )

prompt: it is a warm day and you’ve planned an outing with your dear boyfriend, but you have a mischievous idea in your mind as you set your phone up on the dash, following along the act from the infamous tik-tok prank wherein girlfriends are ordering and trying out stuff with their boyfriends but amidst the conversation they let slip the word ‘husband’ with the intention of seeing the reactions of the boyfriends being called just that.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ GOJO SATORU !

his eyes almost pop out of his skull. like? what did you just call him? did he hear you right? or were his ears just ringing as he just stares at you wide eyed as you converse on the phone, a smile on your face as you chatted away. you see him gaping at you like a fish, from the corner of your eye and it almost makes you snort, and you mutter in the phone again.

“yes, my husband would like a dessert to go with it too.”

“husband?” he inquires, mind boggled as he gazes at you. you could feel the excitement tinged in his voice and it only make you smile from ear to ear.

“yeah, that is it for my husband and me!” you turn to face him with a grin as you spoke into the phone, and as you cut the call, he could only stare at you in awe and a million more emotions full of affection.

“did you just say i am your husband?” he questioned, cheeks beginning to pop with the colour red. and you nod, acting all innocent as you gazed at him and oh god— the stare made butterflies in his stomach as he shies away in his hands and you finally snort at his reaction.

and maybe, just maybe, the box kept snug in the dashboard will be the answer.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ GETO SUGURU !

he sees something coming, he has foreseen it but this was not what he was actually expecting. he suddenly turns to look at you wide eyed as soon as you had mumbled the word ‘husband’ and it was as if past lives of you and him together began to flash in his mind. he keeps gazing at you with all the affections in the world as you giggled and spoke in the phone.

“yes, thank you, my husband will call you for it!”

and as soon as those words left your lips and you cut the call, he’s still gazing at you, lovestruck and almost lovesick. just staring. and staring. and staring.

“what?” you giggled, cheeks heating up as you too gazed back at him. “nothing, wife.” he utters and gosh, you think you almost died and resurrected in the same spot in the car. you just wish to drown in his warm chocolate pools and never come back up.

you shy away in the palm of your hands hiding your face and he chuckles, a deep one rumbles from his chest and you were sure he was going to be the death of you. “now, don’t shy away on me. you did it first, wife!”

“stooopppp.” you whine as you throw your head back into the seat, fever crossing your features and he only laughs heartily to your reaction.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ NANAMI KENTO !

he’s like; i’m sorry? did i hear it right? husband? who? he’s got a neutral face through it all, looking at you as you spoke, words rolling off your tongue as if he has always been your husband, all ringed and up and yours, vowed and bound to you and only you.

as soon as the call cuts, you turn to face him, lashes blinking up at him, eyes warm and full of mischief. “who was it?” nanami inquires first and foremost.

“oh, some guy pestering me for a date, so i told him i have a husband!” you reasoned, mentally punching the air in victory with the already practiced line and he’s like what? excuse you?

“a guy?” he questioned, a bit bewildered and you try your best not to snort. “yeah, he is my client.” you lied again; and you could feel your nose growing, but you just gazed at him, leaning back into your seat.

he just right up gazes at you with a straight face and speaks:

“yeah well, tell him to now contact your husband for any available deals.”

and you think you just died.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ INO TAKUMA !

he is so confused and dumbfounded. he cannot comprehend the word for the life of him. he goes to check his ring finger and then eye yours and when he sees nothing, and it makes him much more bewildered than before, but he doesn’t say anything; only choosing to hear you speak further.

“i am sorry but my husband handles a lot of stuff around the house.” you chuckle softly into the phone, trying your best not to laugh, knowing well of the stare targeted right at you.

“yes. you can contact him.” you say again. eyes turning to look at him and you raise a brow at him and he just shakes his head, shrugging as if asking you that ‘no, you tell me what’s the problem.’

as soon as you end the call and keep the phone away, you face him, biting the smile away from your lips as you see him staring at you with observant eyes. “what?” you spoke, voice gentle and acting all innocent.

“did we marry drunk in vegas or what?” he suddenly inquires and you can’t help but let out the laugh you held. “what? what is so funny, wife?”

“you, mr. husband.” you snort, cheekily raising your brows at him. and his cheeks turn red and he thinks he is melting feeling all warm and feverish.

and you softly chuckle at the reaction you are getting out of him as you laugh when he melts into his seat, falling down his seat. gosh, you love this dork so much.

HSISBEJBEID I ACTUALLY AM OBSESSED WITH THE REACTIONS IN THE TREND 😭😭😭

© noirflms twenty twenty four ─── all rights reserved . plagiarism is a crime . do not copy .

[lokideservesahug]

A Whole New World

Part of the 𝓕1 𝓕𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓼𝔂 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader (Aladdin AU)

Warnings: No descriptions of reader except she has hair, sexism, Abu is actually Max Fewtrell

Notes: Here is the first of two parts for the Lando/Aladdin au. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Princess Y/N has turned down many suitors over the years. So why is it that a certain 'Street rat' has captured her attention?

Word Count: 4.1 k

Part 2

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Throughout your entire life, all you have known is the confinement of the Palace walls you were raised in. You understand why you were kept in the grounds of the palace but it didn't make things any more exciting.

So with that train of thought, you devise a cunning plan one morning. No one could let you leave the Palace... but practically,  could leave if no one knew. So that's what you did. You waited until the right day came (when the guards that always fell asleep were on rotation).

For a place that was wanted to be so "heavily guarded", it was surprisingly easy to sneak out. All it took was a moth-bitten, aged brown robe of your mother's, may she rest in peace, and a calculated amount of agility (that was all but taught to you in your lessons of grace and decorum as a child). When you finally step foot outside the Palace for the first time in your life, you are left awestruck.

Colossal warm-toned pillars towered over you; despite your power in the country, they make you feel insignificant.

Despite this foreign territory, you find that the city is easy enough to navigate, just as long as you remember the way you came. City life was unsurprisingly bustling yet the unfamiliar loud noises make you smile rather than wince. It truly was a nice contrast to your regular surroundings.  When you eventually reach the centermost part of the town, a plethora of market stands decorated in all sorts of attention-catching fabrics line every corner. As you trek further, someone runs past you, pushing you slightly to the side. When you turn to berate them, however, you see that it's only one of many children playing - by running slightly too fast.

Your heart warms at the sight. However, your attention was drawn to a pair of boys, no older than about 8 standing in place, longingly staring at the baker's cart. You crouch down to their level and think about how best to approach this interaction with the first stranger you've spoken to in years.

"Oh gosh. Are you hungry?" You ask the scrawny boys. The taller of the two looks at you and the wordless answering his eyes is enough to act. You grab a loaf of bread from the cart to your side and hold it to the boy staring at you in what now appears to be awe. "Here. Take some bread." At your actions, the pair light up like children on Christmas day and proceed to run off with a newfound pep in their steps.

As you watch them run off, you hear a new voice begin to shout. "Hey! You are stealing from me?" Left dumbfounded at his words, you try and utter a response. "Stealing? No, I was just-" The man doesn't even begin to let you explain your actions as he cuts across you "Well you have not paid!" You see his eyes give you a quick one over as he continues "You either pay, or I take your bracelet."

Once more, you try and explain your predicament. "Sir I don't have any money" At your words, he grabs your bracelet-clad arm and begins to try and pry your jewelry from you. "Let go of me!" Despite your words, the man does not stop his attempts at removing your accessory. Your aggressor once more goes to shout in your face when suddenly, someone steps between you and the vendor. "Woah, take it easy man."

"Kalil walks away from the stall and she" The added emphasis on the pronouns makes you shrink into yourself "steals the bread." "Those children were hungry" This man's behaviour was outrageous. How can he be so cruel to those so unfortunate?

"Those children were starting. I did no-"

"OK. Just give me a second" After he speaks, your 'saviour' turns to you as the man behind him says "Keep your street rat nose out of my business! Huh?" The younger man turns to you again and asks in a soft, quiet tone "Do you have any money?" "No!" Your response comes as his hands easily find a place around your bracelet-clad wrist. "OK," His look becomes much more determined as he says his next words "Alright. Just trust me."

Before you can fully register his words he has turned around and you notice your bare wrist as he speaks to the vendor once more. "Here you go" You don't even have any time to protest. "This is what you wanted right?" He holds up your bracelet almost like a trophy and his actions make you sick to your stomach. The street vendor then sports a massive grin as he resounds to the man you thought was your Knight in shining armor. "Yes. Thank you." The younger man adds "Oh and an apple for your troubles."

By the time the fruit has left his hands, he has already turned and grabbed your wrist to swiftly guide you away. "Hey! That was my-" You let out a frustrated huff " I think not leaving without my bracelet." "You mean this bracelet?" The younger man all but huffs lowly. "Come on."

His actions leave you starstruck but as you hear the vendor shout, you begin to worry. "Lando. Thief! Lando." "Are we in trouble?" You turn to the man to your left. "Only if we get caught."

"Lando!" "Down that alley. The monkey knows the way." You'd been so wrapped up in the unwilling events that you had somehow managed to miss the monkey sitting on the man's (Lando you assume) shoulder. You can hear the vendor shout in the background but you're more focused on the freaking monkey moving from his shoulder to yours.

You go to protest but his gentle murder of reassurance that "You'll be fine" leaves you with no room to argue. As promised, the monkey really does know the way. You find yourself darting over and under places you never would have dreamed existed as you can hear the distant shouts and murmurs of the so-called "street rat's" escape.

As you dart around yet another corner, the man almost runs into you. Damn, he's good at this. You watch in amusement at his theatrics covering his elution of the guards. After kicking over some scaffolding with some Kingdom guards on, he turns to you. "Together on three." You repeat his words back to him to show your understanding. "We jump." "We jump?" There isn't much time for your confusion before he smiles and leans down. "There's no need to repeat everything I say"

He begins his counting and as he reaches the final "three!" He leaps from beside you. You look down at his safe landing but when he notices your absence and whips around to find you, you can't help but apologize. "I'm sorry. But I just can't do this." His eyes never leave yours despite the increasing volume of shouts "Look at me. You can do this." You spare a glance at the guards. Well, you have nothing to lose if you jump (aside from your life).

You aren't even fully aware of your feet leaving the ground or even your body in the air. Yet you certainly notice when you land tangled up with your savior. You glance nervously at the man and quickly detach yourself as he stands up and begins to run away. With no choice but to follow him, you find yourself running along rooftops and jumping (albeit smaller gaps) once again.

You lose sight of him for a moment but when you see the monkey from before look over and squeak at the edge, you begin to worry. That disputes when you see the man stick his head above the edge. "Let's go. I know somewhere where we'll be safe."

He leads you down to the ground once more. You can't help but stop and ask "Where are we?" His only response response "You'll see" as he grabs a rope. Suddenly, the sound of mechanical wiring fills your ears and in front of you where there used to be nothing, a set of stairs appears.

"Woah. Is this where you live?" He smiles in response to your words. "Yep. Just me and Max who come and go as we please." So Max is the name of his monkey you note. When you reach the top of the stairs, your eyes are greeted by a tremendous sight.

A giant cloth roof hangs over the brick space with smaller paper lamps hanging off the material. Your attention however is caught by the balcony on the far side of the space that you instantly rush to. You take in the city skyline for the first time properly. You shed your cloak as you began "I can't believe..." "What?" "I can't believe that we just did that. That we're even alive. With that chase and all of the running and jumping. It was amazing." "Tea?" He asks yet you don't focus on his words.

"Thank you. And thank you for getting me out of there... Lando? Was it?"

"Uhm You're welcome..." At his silence, you try and rack your brain for a quick lie. "Dalia! I... am Dalia" "Dalia. From the Palace?" Your eyes widen at his words. Oh no. "How could you tell?" "Well only someone from the palace would ever be able to afford a bracelet like that. Oh obviously and that silk lining is imported as well. It goes from the merchants at the Dock straight to the Palace. You look down as if you've been caught.

"At least not to servants" Oh no. He really was good. "Well, not to most servants. Meaning you must be a handmaiden to the princess!" You let out a sigh of relief at his words. "Impressive." "If you think that's impressive, you need to see the city from up there." He points to a ledge above the balcony and you turn in excitement to view more of this spectacle. You climb up and look upon your city in awe. It truly is beautiful. You mumble to yourself about how you should get out more (the irony not being lost in your mind) but Lando overhears your words.

"You should tell the princess to get out more. No one has seen her in years." "They won't let her. Ever since my-" You catch yourself before eyes dully slip up "the queen was killed in cold blood the sultan has been terrified for the safety of his daughter. So she's kept locked away." "It seems everyone has been afraid since then. But the people really had nothing to do with it. The people truly loved her." You can't help yourself smiling "They did, didn't they?"

You pick up a small, guitar leaned up against the wall. "Is this yours?" Lando doesn't look you directly in the eyes as he responds. "Sort of, it's borrowed." You then begin to play a tune of your past. "My mother taught me that song" He sounds almost sorrowful as he says it. "Mine too.: "It's all I can remember of her." You frown at his words. "You say you live alone? What happened to your father?"  "I lost them both when I was extremely young. I've been on my own ever since. It's alright it's just..." "What?" He begins to make his way up the stairs to your level as he continues "It's a little sad. Having a monkey be the only authority figure in your life." His words cause you to laugh slightly. And for the first time since your meeting, you finally have the time to take in his features.

His brown hair juts out in many directions with one curl in the centre hanging over his forehead. His blue eyes staring at you are enchanting. As you look down during your chuckle, you can't but notice that (unsurprisingly with his lifestyle) his physicality isn't bad on the eyes either. His words bring you back to reality as he continues.

"It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm" "Trapped." You finish his words off, knowing exactly the feeling. You continue as his gaze fixes on you again "Like you can't escape what you were born into?" He murmurs a quiet "yes" whilst nodding. The two of you continue to stare into each other's eyes when you both hear the shouts of sailors coming to Dock. "Welcome Prince Anders" the guards exclaim. A giant extravagant ship, carrying a royal crest on the sail shatters your brief, calm fantasy.

"I have to get back to the Palace!" "This way." Lando nods to the way you came. And once again, you did yourself blindly following the man (after you pick up your cloak of course). You begin to gravel the way you came but with increased pace. Lando smiles behind you at your urgency. "It's just another prince coming to try and court the princess." You stop briefly. "Yes. And I need to prepare her... Oh! Do you have my bracelet?" "Yeah," He rummaged in his pocket whilst you scan the horizon to gauge how much time you have. "I'm sure I put I in here." His movements become more frantic as he tries to search for your lost jewelry. "Somewhere... Max, did you take it?" The monkey stares at him and just scratches his head.

"That was my mother's bracelet..." You feel almost, lost. "Yes. And it's truly beautiful." You suddenly come to a realization. "You are a thief." "Yes but-" "And I am so naïve" You quickly then away from him and begin to rush towards the Palace as a mix of disappointment and sadness swirl in your gut. You hear his shouts behind you but you can't even bring yourself to turn around and look at him.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Welcome Prince Anders" Your father's words become a blur as you stand at the top of the palace stairwell. You began to descend the stairs as you pondered. Your patience was growing thin with the amount of suitors coming to court you. It wasn't that you had an issue with marriage, it was just that you had an issue with the suitors that kept coming. Every single one was here for power (which you understood you suppose) but all had fatal character flaws. They were either too involved with the patriarchy or wanted 15 children or some other outlandish thing. You hadn't found the perfect suitor yet. You couldn't even think of what this perfect man would be like but you knew that you would just know. Your brain drifts momentarily to the blue eyes from earlier and you don't have any time to ponder on it before your father's words cut through your thoughts.

"Prince Anders, this is my daughter Y/N." You hear a gasp from the man now standing opposite you. "Wow. Why did no one tell me of your beauty?" "No one mentions yours either." Your words (arguably a jab) at the man only make him chuckle. " Oh! Thank you. They say that in Skånland. Yeah. Right?" He turns to his men behind him. They laugh with the prince but if it's genuinely funny to them or just to amuse their leader, you're unsure. "It is very amusing." "Is it?" Your words cut him off slightly. "We have the exact same title yet are never described the same way." Your father clears his throat and mutters your name as a warning.

The prince awkwardly nods his head in agreeance with your words when he suddenly spots your tiger growling slightly. "Oh! What is that? Wait, don't tell me. It is a cat... with stripes." A distant voice calls to the prince "He likes you." Once more, the prince continues to talk of his greatness by adding "Oh yeah! In Skånland, cats love me. Here kitty. Pst pst." He begins to approach your four-legged companion and with this, the tiger to your side begins to growl with increased volume. You aren't even looking at either of them when you hear a scream followed by many sets of laughter.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

After you kindly dismissed the prince with soft apologies and promises of friendship. You find yourself wandering the halls of the palace in search of your father. You assume that he is in his regular place in his office. But as you walk down the corridor, you hear shouts that you can't quite make out and then two murmurs of "Invading Shiribad is the" You cut across your father's words "Invade Shiribad?" You turn and look at the man accompanying your father. Jafar, your father's second in command and a true thorn in your kingdom's side sometimes. "Why on Earth would we invade the kingdom of my mother?" "We would never, ever invade Shiribad" At your father's agreement, you opt for a sharper glare to give Jafar. "But an ally I'm Skånland would improve our situation." You brush off his accusatory tone as your father answers him. "Yes. If you consider giving Prince Anders a chance-" "To rule? Father that man is power-hungry and clearly only cares about his own image. Even Rajah would make a better leader than him!" You point to the tiger sitting beside you. "My dear, I am not getting any younger and as more time passes, the urgency of finding you a husband increases. And we are running out of kingdoms."

At his chuckles you roll your eyes. "What...foreign prince could care for our people as I do? I could lead if..." "My dear, you can not be sultan. It has never been done in the 1,000-year history of our Kingdom." "I have been preparing for this my entire life. I have read every book possible, I have-" "Books?" Jafar finds a way to weasel know your conversation. "You can not read experience. Inexperience is lethal. People left unchecked will revolt. Both walls and borders will be attacked if left unguarded."

"Jafar is right. One day, you will understand. You can leave now." Your father's words cause you to huff in frustration but flee the room.

As you exit with Rajah following closely behind you, you hear footsteps pacing towards you. Rajah growls as Jafar says softly yet condescendingly "Life would be kinder to you princess. If you were to accept these traditions and understand that it is better for you to be seen rather than heard."

You refused to meet his eyes and after he was clearly done with his demeaning speech, you walked away to your Chambers.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Surely there is something I can do." You speak to your handmaiden, Dalia (the real handmaiden Dalia) as she rubs your shoulders. "Oh, what a hard life you lead. I wish I would have the struggle of having to choose which prince to marry. Oh, the tall and clever one or the clever and handsome one. A handsome prince wants to marry you, when will life get easier." You disregard her sarcastic tone "It's not that I don't want to marry. It's just... "You want to be sultan. But why would you with  life like yours?" You turn and smile at her. "Do you remember remember my mother used to say? We would only ever be as happy as" Dalia choruses the last few words as you say them " our least favorite subject." You paused. "If she saw what I did today she'd be shattered." Dalia takes your hands and gives you a sympathetic smile. "She would also want you to be safe. And clean, I'll draw a bath"

"Jafar's guards on every corner? What kind of dystopia are we living in? I can help." You then look at the woman now behind you. "I know I can. I was born for so much more determined just marrying some useless prince!" "If you had to marry a useless prince prince could certainly do much, much worse than this one. Who's tall and dreamy? And he may be a little bit dim but you're only getting married. It's not like you'd have to talk to him." You furrow your brows at her. "But you'd much prefer that boy from the market." You feel your cheeks heat up. She laughs as she walks off and you can't seem to find it in you to disagree with her words.

As promised, she leaves to go to the adjacent room and draw a bath for you. Suddenly, a loud knock cuts through the quiet night breeze. That's odd. There aren't usually visitors coming to see you at this time of night. You open the tall door (that is surprisingly light) and you are met with the same blue eyes that have been plaguing your thoughts all afternoon. You don't even register your gasp before he is asking the same thing as he asked you this afternoon. "Tea?" He smiles warmly at you. "You... You! What on Earth are you doing here?" The sound of guards growing nearer fills your ears. "Get in here." You grab him and push him into the room whilst also surveying the corridor.

"I needed to come and return your bracelet." You freeze momentarily at his words. "What? Where is it?" You can hear his subtle smirk as he says "Already on your wrist." You glance down and as promised, your mother's bracelet once more on your arm. You can hear Lando compliment your interior design choices but your biggest worry is "How did you slip past the palace guards?" He turns to look at you, tray of tea and saucers still in hand. "I'll admit, that was challenging. But I have my ways." Once more, an accomplished smile finds its way on his face.

"Whilst the princess is out, would you perhaps like to go on a stroll?" You almost forgot about the Alias you adopted later... "Have a little chat?" "You are unbelievable. You can't just break into a palace and begin to walk around like you own the place!" Despite your reprimanding him, you feel a slight smile tug on your lips at his sheer boldness. "Well, you have to act like you own everything if you own nothing... So what do you say? I did find your bracelet after all." "Find it? You were the one that stole it!" "Actually, the monkey stole it." "He's your monkey!" "He smirks and says "Still a monkey." His words make you laugh and you can't remember the last time someone made you this happy.

"Who ordered the tea?" You didn't even notice your handmaiden return but at Dalia's words, you both quickly spin to look at her. All Lando can muster is a simple "Uh..." Before you cut across him " I did!" You go to move behind Lando so you can subtly communicate with Dalia. "For you, Princess Y/N."  "Your majesty" Lando bows as Dalia shoots you a very confused look.  but you respond by pointing to your returned bracelet. "Why are you being weird?" Dalia's confusion annoys you. You were trying to keep this storyline up!

Lando turns and gives you an awkward smile in almost support of what he thought your predicament was. You try again. You point to your bracelet and then to Lando. As if by magic, her eyes light up in realization of what you were attempting to do. "Oh, I'm the princess...Yes" Her recovery isn't the best but it works "And it truly is good to be me with all of my fancy dresses, one for each minute of the day and my giant karts of gold things and palaces." You gesture at her to wrap up her truly painful attempt at a lie. "Now it is time for my cat to be cleaned. She walks away and you can't wait to laugh at her display later.

"She doesn't get out much." Lando just hums in agreement as he places the tea tray down. "Clearly." Your tiger then begins to growl at him. "Aren't you supposed to be in the bath?" Lando shoots you an uneasy look as the cat sniffs his hand. Before you can think on it too much, Dalia's voice is heard once again. "Oh servant girl, this cat isn't going to clean itself." "Don't cats clean themselves?" You turn to Lando, eyes wide "You have to go." "Alright. But I'm coming back tomorrow." You go to protest but he continues. "Meet me in the middle of the tea courtyard by the giant tree when the moon is above the highest branches. To return this." He pulls out your hairclip and he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. "I promise." You see him walk off and can't help but smile at him and his antics.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, a certain second in command to your father was alerted as Lando entered the palace and the guards had finally caught up to Lando. He looks at the head guard as the man gruffly speaks. "Evening." Lando can hear his voice break as he replies. "Even- good evening." He doesn't even need to ask to know that there are more guards behind him and he feels well and truly stuffed.

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I hope you enjoyed this! As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 7 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

okay so i guess the responses i got on my "i have writer's block wahhh" post worked because GUESS WHAT I FINISHED THIS MORNING. this chapter!!! i have been aching to share this (even when it was half-done), i literally cannot wait any longer. this is an eren pov chapter so you guys already know it's going to be fun. lots going on, and please don't hate me for the end, i promise there's a master plan in place!!! i hope you guys enjoy :-)

specific cws: smut, rough sex, use of names (both endearing and derogatory so take that as you will), drinking, swearing, i want to give eren a giant hug

-

“Love sought is good; but given unsought, is better.” - Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (Act III, Scene 1)

Eren has no excuse for any of it. No excuse for stepping in, for throwing Floch against the bar. He knows you, knows you have enough experience with awful men to know how to handle yourself. He just couldn’t help himself.

And now he’s gone and acted out again without thinking. The cold winter air sobers him up, brings Eren back to himself, and when he looks down at you, all cute and furious with him, the heat in Eren’s veins dies. A pregnant pause stretches between you both, you with your arms crossed and glaring up at him, and Eren, surely with hearts in his eyes, looking down at you, something apologetic beginning to write its way into his features.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

Well, so much for that. The venom in your voice reignites Eren’s temper, fans the flames back into a full-blown inferno.

“My problem?” Eren growls, stepping closer to you. “What the fuck is your problem? I was just getting that prick out of your face. I’d think I deserve a thank you more than anything.”

“It wasn’t your place,” you huff.

“My place?” Eren nearly shouts, exasperated. “You’re the one who wanted to be friends so badly, was I supposed to just sit back and watch while he drooled all over you? Give me a fucking break.”

“That’s not– ugh, you’re really fucking frustrating, you know that Eren?”

It’s like watching all the ghosts of his past jump out at him through your teeth; Eren flinches, feels his fury rushing in his ears like a tidal wave.

“I’m–? Fine, fine, yeah, I’m the frustrating one. Definitely not you, throwing a goddamn temper tantrum over the stupidest shit imaginable, makes perfect sense. Really putting that smart little head to use, aren’t you?”

“Oh? ‘My girl’?” As soon as the words hit him, plunging through his chest like daggers, Eren’s blood runs cold. So you had caught his little slip-up. “What the fuck was that, then?”

Eren stutters, words caught in his throat at the worst possible moment. “Y-you know, like my girl, like you’re my friend or whatever.”

“Uh-huh,” you eye him disbelievingly, “you may as well have hiked your leg up and pissed on me in front of him. Am I supposed to be your fucking property or something because we had sex? Is that it?”

“What? No, I–” you’re faster than him, cutting him off.

“Don’t you already have your hands full with your ex?”

That crosses a line, pushes your fight into an entirely new territory. Eren’s eyes narrow. “Are you really bringing up Breeze right now? Like she…Jesus, like she even fucking matters?”

He watches the way you flinch when he says her name, the way your eyes widen, something he hadn’t expected out of you after with your little snide comments today. Interesting.

“She doesn’t matter to me, but I know she matters to you. As your friend, I’m just letting you know it sounds like a bad idea.”

“What’s a bad idea?”

“Getting back together with her,” you say, like it should be obvious.

It hits Eren like a truck; so that’s what’s gotten into you? You think he’s getting back together with Breeze, as if you didn’t text your ex that you were “totally in love with” on that godforsaken night at Paradise? Eren can still hear the slur of your words in that maddeningly confusing voicemail.

“Even if I was getting back with Breeze,” Eren snorts at the very idea, “which I’m not–”

“Oh yeah?” you counter, stepping forward to nearly touch your chin to his chest with how severely your head’s tilted up at him, “never took you for a liar, Eren.”

“A liar? When did I fucking–”

“Sasha saw you two at 104 the other day. You’re not fucking slick, you know.” Eren hates that tone in your voice, smug and wounded all at once. He wants to tear his own hair out.

“Oh, so you just know everything, don’t you?” Eren’s voice is shaking under his efforts to keep it at a low volume, keep you with him outside of your little bar and just make you listen to him. He watches your posture change ever so slightly, a shoulder turning towards him. “I was telling her to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Over coffee?” Your voice is still clipped, snarky. “Sure, Eren.”

Eren tries to keep himself in line, but his temper gets the better of him yet again, shooting out sharp and lethal. “Isn’t it a little hypocritical of you to avoid me over that, when it’s really you that’s getting back with your ex?”

Your eyes shoot open, and you spin on your heel to fully face him. “What?”

“You think I didn’t listen to your little voicemail?” Eren seethes, the full-bodied ugliness of his anger warping his face into a scowl. You don’t deserve the brunt of his temper, he knows you don’t, but he’s failing at every turn to reign himself in.

“You can’t throw that in my fucking face, I don’t even remember it,” you cut him off, eyes narrowed into little slits.

Eren freezes in place. The world around him seems to slow; the only thing tethering him to this plane is the way you’re looking up at him, furious and beautiful in the buzzing neons of Scout’s. He knew you’d been drunk, but not that drunk.

Hey, Eren– fuck, Stor, leave me alone! I’m just gonna talk to him really fast! Sorry, Historia’s all over me because I did something bad. I– I texted my ex, Luke. I never told you about him because he’s like, the worst, you’d hate him. But the funny thing is, I don’t even think I care? Maybe I do because I really was like, totally in love with him. Maybe he’ll text me back and we’ll fall in love again. But…I don’t know, Eren. I think about you all the time. I think I…I think I like you. Not like a friend, more than that. Wait, fuck, can I delete this? Just…I don’t know. Call me tomorrow or something. I want to talk about it before I can go down the black hole of Luke all over again. I know it’s not what you expected, and maybe you don’t feel the same, but…maybe we can just– shit, Historia, don’t hang up the–!

“Whatever I said was bullshit, I didn’t mean a word of it. I’m not getting back with my ex, or whatever else I came up with while I was blacked out.”

Your present-tense voice, affirmative and clear, snaps him out of his daze. I didn’t mean it. Every word of that voicemail that Eren knows so well, has basically memorized after listening to it day in and day out, trying to analyze every little drunken intonation of your voice– it was bullshit. Eren steels his jaw, musters up all the willpower he can dredge up in his body.

“You didn’t mean it,” his voice sounds alien as it leaves his mouth, distant.

“Yeah, exactly,” you’re mean, you’re so mean, not even stopping to acknowledge the sinkhole ripping open in Eren’s chest, “so before you rip me a new one, make sure that you’re not thinking about where you’d rather be right now.”

So you’re not just mean, you’re oblivious, it seems. For some reason, even through the shattering, crushing feeling erupting beneath Eren’s hoodie, it infuriates him. You just don’t see it, don’t see him. You didn’t mean a word you’d said to him in that damned voicemail, so he can’t tell you necessarily. It crosses his mind that maybe he can show you; the last dying ember of Eren’s rational line of thought sparks and spits at the idea in protest, but eventually chokes out, slowly dying in the tidal wave of emotion that takes him over.

“Oh, I don’t have anywhere else I’d rather be,” Eren's voice starts low and venomous, but it escalates with each passing word, “trust me, I showed up just aching to get into it with you. Just dying to have you rip me apart for something that I didn’t even fucking do!”

Not even a lie, honestly.

“You’re such an– ugh!” You shriek, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes.

“A what? Say it.”

“An asshole!”

“Is that what I am?” Eren’s backing you up against the bricks, making good use of his height to tower over you. Some sick part of him relishes in the way that, while your eyes remain blazing furiously enough to send a weaker man to his knees, your height difference forces you to cower under him. “An asshole?”

“Yeah,” you counter, glaring up at him defiantly, “you’re a fucking asshole, Eren.”

His proximity to you is making him dizzy and a little unhinged, and through the drinks and his anger and the mere inches between your heaving chests, Eren feels his blood start to run hot in an entirely different way. The leash he holds on his own temper, his own throat-closing desire, is dragging along the floor as he backs you fully against the wall, and Eren’s too wound up to bring himself to care. 

“That’s not what you were calling me when I had my head between your legs, now is it?”

That shakes you, makes your jaw drop a little. Eren’s vaguely aware of your fingers twitching and clenching at your side, inwardly braces himself for a slap to the face. “Well, you weren’t acting like an asshole then.” 

Eren smirks, leans into his own cruelty. “What, you jealous that you haven’t been getting all of my attention? Is that what’s got you acting all mean?”

“Cut it out, Eren.” Your eyes are telling him you’re still mad at him, furious even, but Eren doesn’t miss the way the rise and fall of your chest grows ever so slightly more frantic, the way your tongue darts out anxiously to wet your lips.

“Or what?” Eren leans down, boxing you in with one arm on either side of your head.

“I– we’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He widens his eyes innocently. “What am I doing?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” you hiss, but if you ask Eren, it sounds an awful lot like a moan is lodged in your throat, like your words are lacking the conviction that you’re trying to muster. He pushes himself in closer to you, noses mere inches apart, a wicked grin splitting his face.

“Is it working?”

Eren’s lips meet yours at the same moment that his hand whips out to catch your arm where you’re swinging it up to slap him. A broken little whimper leaves your mouth, spills into his, as your arm slackens in his grip. Eren feels your free hand fist into the hair at the nape of his neck, lets a groan fly out into nonexistent space between your lips. He’s been driving himself crazy thinking about this moment, the next time he’d get to feel your mouth on his again if it ever even happened, what you taste like, the little noises you make. The moment that’s been keeping him up at night is finally here, inflating his wounded ego like a balloon, and it feels fucking good.

You bite a little too hard into his bottom lip, the tangy, copper taste of Eren’s blood leaking into the kiss, making it clear that this doesn’t mean everything has settled between you both, but for the time being, Eren doesn’t care. All he cares about is the way your plush thighs feel wrapped around his waist, how easily he can scoop you up and pin you against the wall, the little moan that slips from your lips when he presses the length of his body entirely into you.

He doesn’t take his time, doesn’t savor the moment like he’ll surely wish he did tomorrow; Eren devours you, running a hand up your bare leg and under the hem of your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing at your hips.

“Bet you’re wet under this short little skirt, aren’t you?” Eren huffs into your mouth, sucking on your tongue.

“Fuck you,” you spit, squeezing your thighs tighter around his hips.

“Is that what you want?” Eren whispers, dizzy and drunker on you than the three Jameson shots he’d knocked back at the bar.

“I–”

“Been thinking about it?” Eren can’t stop himself, trying desperately to keep his lips on yours through the spill of words from his mouth. “Maybe that’s why you’ve been so mean to me, grinding all up on me in that club, teasing me, then running off. Just wanted a little love, didn’t you?”

“That depends,” you pant, moving your face to kiss up his neck, leave little nips in your wake. Eren groans deep in his chest, pushing against you even more insistently.

“On?”

“How bad you really want it,” you bite into his earlobe, steal another shaky groan from him.

Eren’s not a submissive guy, not by any means, but the thrill your words send running through his veins just about makes him drop you.

“Want me to beg?” Eren growls, shoving into you and biting deep at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I’d only ever beg for you, baby.”

“Is that what you’re going to do? Beg for me when you’ve got another girl waiting for you?” Your anger has fizzled into a bitter sarcasm that goes straight between Eren’s legs and knocks him right in the ego all at once, tongue tracing the shell of his ear.

“Fuck– you’re my girl, my favorite girl, did you forget?” Eren grabs your face, forces your head back against the brick so you can look at him, eyes blown wide with lust and glossed over, mouth open in a desperate pant. “Told you the first time, you’re the best I’ve ever had. Didn’t think I was just fucking around, did you? It’s just you, only you.”

“Could have fooled me,” you dig your teeth into the thumb Eren’s worked between your lips, making him suck in a sharp ouch between his lips, “sure don’t feel like your favorite girl.”

“Sounds like I need to fix that, then,” Eren lets a hand trail down between the little space he’s leaned back to create between your bodies, finds his way to the damp fabric of your panties, “oh, who’s the liar now?”

“Don’t– fuck,” your eyes roll back in your head when he starts pressing into where he knows your clit is, rubbing insistent circles over the cloth just to elicit that reaction from you, rip the control right out of your pretty little hands. Eren chuckles down at you, dark and dangerous, amused at how quickly you melt for him.

“Thought we weren’t doing this?” He parrots your words from earlier, nosing at your neck. “Thought I was an asshole?”

“You are,” you grit out through a clenched jaw, but Eren notices the little forward push of your hips, notices that you’re trying to hold yourself back from rubbing yourself into his palm.

“And that gets you wet,” Eren counters, grinding the heel of his palm up into your clit and wrenching a little gasp from you, “bet you liked watching me in there, bet you would have loved watching me kick his ass for you.”

Eren pauses, waits to hear if you’ve got anything to say for yourself, but you’re already half-gone, rolling your hips against the steady rocking of his hand and whining in your throat. He smiles– god, you really are his favorite.

“Say it,” Eren growls into your skin, slipping a finger past the fabric of your panties to slide it into you, not the whole thing, but just a knuckle, just enough to make you shudder in his arms, “tell me you need me, want to hear you say what this perfect pussy’s already telling me. C’mon baby.”

Just as your mouth opens, either to answer him or snark at him, Eren can’t be sure, a cat-call from across the street snaps both of you out of your haze, your eyes flying wide. You shove at him, wriggling in his arms until Eren mercifully drops you to your feet, reaches down to right your rumpled little skirt for you. You glower up at him, look him up and down, and just when Eren’s about to bullshit some excuse to run home, fuck into his hand with your name on his lips, you surprise him.

“I mean, after all that, the least you can do is walk me home.”

The necessary steps of Eren closing your tabs, walking into the whipping winter wind, walking through the streets silently with Eren side-eyeing you as you storm along, arms crossed petulantly, commence. They go by in a blur; Eren’s not even sure he should be doing this right now with the lack of blood flow to his head. You don’t make eye contact, and if Eren had any more conscious thought at the moment, he would think you’re already regretting this before it happens, but he can’t bring himself to care, not yet.

He’ll kick himself for this as soon as the sun rises, but for now? The only thing he’s worried about lies wet and pulsing for him under the hem of your skirt.

The moment you’ve gotten the door open, Eren’s got you shoved up against the wall again, letting his hands find their way under your skirt and grabbing at your ass with a quiet groan.

“Historia?” he questions, nipping at your earlobe just because he can.

“Ymir’s,” you pant, pushing him off of you and practically storming to your bedroom. It hits Eren that for all the time you’ve spent together, he’s never actually seen your bedroom. He thinks that maybe he’ll do a little investigating of his own once he’s fucked all the fight out of you.

Safely behind the door of your bedroom, Eren wastes no time in yanking his shirt over his head, reaching for yours only to find that you’ve already rid yourself of the cute little sweater he had been admiring from down the bar back at Scout’s. You’ve got a pretty lace number underneath, one that Eren almost doesn’t want to take from you, but he reaches behind you and unclips it. Eren plans on taking and taking and taking everything you’ll give him, just for tonight, because the sinking feeling in his chest is telling him to do it while he can; a girl like you never sticks around a guy like him for long, and he’s already done himself the favor of ruining most of the potential your relationship had anyway.

“Eren– oh,” the broken whimper that leaves your lips snaps him out of his thoughts, reminds him that he’s got one of your breasts in his palm and the other nipple between his teeth. Eren wraps his free hand around your back, pressing his splayed fingers between your shoulder blades to arch you closer to him until he’s so full of you he can hardly breathe.

He’s going to keep taking from you, take until he drowns in it.

“Feel good? Missed me?” Eren’s words come out a little garbled around the flesh in his mouth, but you get the message all the same, managing a sarcastic eye roll through your arousal. You decline to answer him, but Eren can read your body, so he digs his teeth in harshly to the little swell of fat on the underside of your breast, sucks a bruise in to cut that eye roll of yours right in half. Eren smirks when your eyes flutter closed, a reluctant hand coming up to thread through his hair. “Thought so.”

“Can you just–fuck–get on with it?”

“Uh-uh,” Eren straightens back to his full height, backs you onto the bed until your knees catch and you fall onto your back, glaring up at him defiantly. “Gotta get you ready for me, right? I’m sure you remember.”

He eats up the doubt that flickers across your face, the memory of the first time you’d taken him all over your expression. Eren reaches beneath your skirt, pulls your panties down your legs delicately, rubs his hands along your thigh-high stockings with an appreciative swear under his breath.

“There’s a zipper on the back,” you wiggle a bit to try and reach the fasten of your skirt, but Eren slaps a firm hand onto your hip, pins you back onto the bed.

“Think I’m letting you take this off? After you were teasing me with it all night?” Eren says, stretching his body over yours, taking full advantage of his size to cage you in.

“I wasn’t teasing,” you huff, “these are just my clothes.”

“Anything you wear is teasing,” Eren brings his fingers to your core, swipes through the wetness gathered there, “especially when you look like this.”

You open your mouth to retort, but your jaw goes slack when Eren rolls over your clit softly, rubbing little circles into it at the perfect speed, the perfect pressure. He’s not interested in teasing you too much, he wants to feel you break on him as many times as you’ll grant him the pleasure. Once your little gasps have begun to swell into quiet moans, Eren ventures down, pushes his middle finger into you, all the way to the hitch. Eren answers your widened eyes and your little gasp with a sharp hiss between his teeth, marveling at the way your walls cling to his finger, sucking him in when he slides out and back in again.

“Just like the first time,” Eren murmurs, leaning down to take your collarbone between his teeth, “are you always this tight?”

“I– I don’t– more, please.”

Eren smiles around the mouthful of your skin he has, feeling his heart swell at how cute and airy your words come out, how clear it is to him, even if it’s only for this precious moment, that you’re just as desperate for him as he is for you. He grants your wish, working a second finger in beside the first, curling them cruelly against that spot in your walls that he knows gets your heart racing.

“Eren,” you keen, arching off the bed and tossing your head to the side.

“So tight baby,” Eren says in awe, pulling his head to watch as your cunt leaves little white streaks on his fingers, “so warm, can’t fucking wait to get my cock in you.”

“P-please,” you sputter, hooded eyes sparkling at the mention of it. Eren thinks wildly that he might be falling in love with the little unshed tears that prick your eyes when you start to get close, the little broken pleas you give him.

“You gotta cum for me first.” Eren works his fingers faster, can feel the fluttering of your cunt around his fingers. He realizes how worked up he must have gotten you outside of Scout’s, how you’re so wet it’s dripping down your soft skin onto the sheets, and you haven’t even cum yet.

“I’m– I just want you to fuck me,” you say, whiny and pitiful.

“I will,” Eren coos, “missed this messy little cunt so much, I promise I’ll fuck you, just give me one first. Gotta make it fit, right?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, hips bucking up towards him. Eren watches, drinks the sight of you in: skirt pulled up around your waist, legs spread wide open for him, slick spread all over the inside of your thighs, bottom lip tucked so tightly between your teeth he worries you might draw blood. He commits the sight to memory, his pretty little student all strung out and begging for his cock, begging him to make you cum. If he remembers right, if he curls his fingers just a little more harshly–

“Eren–” your head shoots up suddenly, eyes flying wide open, fists tightening in the sheets.

“Right there?” Eren grins, sharp and half-crazed, raising his eyebrows at the reaction the new angle has brought out of you.

“Right– oh, oh my god, I–”

“Give it to me,” Eren urges, working his fingers even faster, “come on, baby, show me how much you missed me.”

With a cry, you twist and thrash under him, cumming almost violently. Eren drinks it down, leans down to press a kiss against your open mouth, pins your body to the bed so you can’t run from the vicious waves of pleasure wracking your body. 

“There’s my girl,” he mutters, licking against your tongue, “such a good, good girl for me.”

When your orgasm finally starts to ebb, Eren doesn’t let up, not entirely; he keeps his fingers working in a slow drag through your walls, appreciating the way your muscles twitch and the way you feebly shove at his wrist.

“Eren…” you trail off weakly, fingers finally locking harshly around his hand and pulling him from you, “too much.”

“Thought you wanted me to ‘get on with it’?” Eren snorts, finally obliging your earlier request and sliding your skirt over your legs, tracing his fingers up and down your thighs once you’re fully bare and beautiful underneath him, taking mental snapshots of every inch of smooth skin that he’s lucky enough to have under his touch.

“I do,” you say, eyeing him with a glint of annoyance in your eye. It just makes Eren smile bigger; you’re so cute when you’re mad.

“Whatever you want, baby,” Eren says, situating his hands under your arms and practically throwing you up against the pillows at the head of your bed. You widen your legs so he can crawl in between them, kissing his way up your torso in a self-indulgent, tender way.

“Do we, um…” you start to question him, and Eren’s close enough to your face now that he can feel your cheeks warm. He sits up a little, arches a questioning brow down at you.

“What?”

“Do we need to use a condom?”

Eren frowns, confused. “I mean, after last time, I thought you were on birth control.”

“I am,” you confirm, nodding slowly, some odd emotion flickering over your features that could be anger, could be heartbreak, “but I don’t know if, like–”

“I haven’t been with anyone else,” Eren catches your meaning, feeling his heart thud heavy and loud in his chest, “not since…”

“Oh,” you exhale quietly, nodding, “okay.”

“You?”

“Uh, no,” your voice is so low Eren almost doesn’t hear you, but he watches your head slowly lull side to side in confirmation, “no one else.”

Eren can’t excuse the rush of relief that courses through him, the swell of happiness to learn that no one’s gotten to see you like this since the last time he had. It goes straight to his cock, hard and drooling between his legs. Before he can get too wrapped up in the emotional side of things, Eren leans in hard to the horrible, possessive thoughts that have constricted him, laying himself over you and taking his cock in his hand, swiping it through the mess between your legs.

“Good.” He even surprises himself with that, looking down on you with dark eyes, eyes that promise ruin.

“Please,” you give him one more breathless plea, Eren swears you know too well how to snap his composure clean in half.

He pushes himself in, choking on a moan at how tight you are, vicelike and suffocating around him. A broken groan flies from your lips, your fingers tighten their grip on his biceps until Eren’s sure you’re going to break the skin, but he’s beyond caring. His mind wipes completely blank, save for the hot, wet heat that’s enveloping him, beckoning him to snap his hips forward viciously and be done with it. With what little self-restraint he can muster up, Eren flicks his eyes up to yours.

“So…it’s so–” another whimper cuts you off, and Eren can feel your thighs twitch on either side of his hips.

“Too much?” Eren manages to reign himself in, back out another inch or so.

“No,” you wrap a leg around his waist, shove him further into you and wrench a deep, guttural groan from his chest, “feels good, keep going.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Eren breathes, trying to retain any semblance of control over this situation, give you that dominant dirty talk that he knows gets you off instead of turning into a whimpering, moaning mess at the feel of you clenching around him. He bottoms out, feeling himself fuck all the way up into your tummy, head falling down onto your shoulder.

Eren manages to keep his pace slow and gentle, rolling his hips into yours like he’s making love to you, not saying goodbye. Little satisfied sounds are slipping out of your mouth, but Eren can see a flicker of consciousness in your eyes; you’re not drooling for him, out of your mind with want, not like the first time. He frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re…I don’t know, you seem like you’re somewhere else,” Eren hates having to admit that he notices, that he even cares, and the unsteady creak of his voice reflects that, just making him hate himself even more. You don’t seem to notice his vulnerability or, if you do, you aren’t affected by it. You simply raise an eyebrow at him.

“I mean…it’s good,” you say, eyes flitting around the room, like you can’t quite admit whatever you’re going to say while looking him straight in the eyes, “but I want you to fuck me.”

“I am fucking you.” Eren’s frown deepens into a scowl of annoyance. What, is he not good enough for you now?

“Well, literally speaking yes, you are fucking me. But,” a nervous giggle slips from your teeth, riling the anger starting to bubble under his skin again, “I’ve heard a lot of rumors about you.”

“Why are we talking about this while I am literally inside of you?”

“Because I want you to fuck me,” you raise your eyebrows meaningfully, canting your hips up towards him. It clicks– as much as Eren wants to show you what he feels because he can’t tell you, fucking you like an animal, as he’s prone to do, is what you want. Eren’s been so wrapped up in trying to relish whatever time he may have left with you before you inevitably cast him off to the side again, he’s not been paying attention.

“You want me to fuck you, huh?” Eren thrusts forward a little harsher, a little more pointedly. Your eyes roll back, a slow, indulgent smile spreading across your face.

“I want you to fuck me like I know you can,” Eren feels your arms wrap around his neck, pulling his ear to your lips, “unless that last time was all luck. Surely all those rumors aren’t false, are they?”

Eren knows you’re trying to get under his skin, to bite at him through the haze of the heavy air weighing down on both of you, to rekindle that anger that you had brought out of him outside of the bar. What is he going to do with you, incorrigible little thing that you are? If Eren Jaeger was a better man, he would stop this all right now, force you both to talk through the sharp, spiky things that hang in the balance between you two.

But Eren Jaeger is not a better man, he’s only a man, broken and needy and tucked into his favorite place on earth, with the girl of his dreams below him urging him to fuck her brains out. Is he really to blame?

Eren rips himself out of your grasp, standing tall and menacing on his knees over you.

“I’ll fuck you,” Eren grits out through a clenched jaw, grabbing you by the back of your thighs and shoving your knees towards your head, “but you better be ready to put your money where your mouth is.”

“Yeah? Well– oh,” a sharp, shrill cry of your own making cuts your voice off when Eren snaps his hips forward, brutal and unforgiving into the wet heat of your cunt. He doesn’t stop there, immediately pulling out and snapping forward again, hitting somewhere deep inside of you that, based on your face, he knows no man has ever been able to reach. He smirks, all cocky and cruel, setting a harsh pace that’s got you clawing at the sheets.

“What? Is it too much?” Eren whines down at you condescendingly, eating up the way you’re already whimpering and moaning. He can see tears glistening at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall.

“No, no,” your voice is broken, breathless, “it’s– fuck, it’s so good, Eren–”

“Is this what you wanted?” Eren growls down at you, locking one strong hand around your throat. “Wanted me to fuck you like the little slut you are?”

“Yes!” Your admission comes out in a choked, watery cry, the tears in your eyes finally beginning to run down your temples. Even if it wasn’t written all over your face, Eren can feel how much you like it; your pussy is fluttering, pulsing around him, begging him to keep going. He drives his hips forward like a man starved, a man whose life depends on fucking you until you can’t walk straight for a week.

“Who knew?” Eren muses to himself, wiping the tears from your face. “Who knew my pretty girl was so filthy?”

“I, I–Eren,” you moan wantonly, thighs shaking under his firm grip. Eren should hold himself back, knows that you’re going to be so sore in the morning, but a sick part of him is glad for it. Let you walk around campus with the throbbing ache of him inside of you, maybe he’ll fuck you so hard that little twinge in your belly when you sit down never goes away.

“Say it,” Eren urges, squeezing your windpipe, “tell me how much you love it, tell me how bad this pussy missed me.”

“I–” you choke out around his iron grip on your neck, “I m-missed you, I love it w-when you fuck me–”

“Fuck you like a whore?”

“Fuck me like a w-whore,” you wheeze out, face reddening with shame. Eren loves it, wants to kiss the blush off your cheeks and swallow it whole.

“That’s right, baby,” Eren releases your throat, watches the way you heave and gasp as the air flows back into your lungs, only to be punched out by the force of his thrusts, “you love my cock, don’t you?”

“Yes, I– oh my god, Eren, I–”

“What?” Eren sneers, smirking wickedly down at you, “is my smart girl already so fucked out she can’t talk?”

“No, I– I just– fuck!” You’re so loud for him, if he knew that fucking you within an inch of your life would get him this, Eren never would have bothered playing nice in the first place.

“‘ve barely even started,” Eren laughs, mean and sharp, “and you’re already fucked so dumb you can’t even think. Think you can cum for me, just like this?”

He doesn’t even have to ask; he can feel the way your cunt’s starting to tighten around him so harshly that it nearly pushes him out. He’s bullying his way back into you on every thrust, forcing you to open up for him, to take what he has to give. Inwardly, Eren hopes to god you do cum soon; he’s not going to last, not with you spread out beneath him crying and wailing his name. Eren doesn’t think he can hold out much longer without filling you up, watching his cum seep out of you.

“Eren, Eren, Eren–” your nonsensical babbling has started to take the shape of his name, Eren can feel his ego swelling and swelling to the point of bursting. There’s a tone of warning in your moans; the onslaught of an orgasm is threatening to pull you under.

“Don’t you dare hold out on me,” Eren slaps your thigh hard, the tacky, wet sound of it echoing through the room, somehow finds the wherewithal to piston his hips even faster, “want to feel it, feel you cum on me.”

“I’m going to, I’m going– oh Eren–”

Eren practically snarls, leaning over to spit in your open, waiting mouth. “What are you waiting for? Don’t you–fuck–want your pretty cunt stuffed full of me? I’ll give you yours, just gotta cum for me and give me what’s fucking mine. Go on–”

Eren’s rambling is cut short by the loud, raspy sob you let out, clenching down around him so hard it almost hurts, drawing a loud, long hiss from him. He looks down past your quivering thighs, sees the frothy white that’s streaking his cock, and he’s done for. He grants you a few more sloppy thrusts, and then with one final snap of his hips, he stills, holding himself as deep inside as he can manage, pumping you full of him.

Before he can stop himself, Eren’s crashing into you, bringing your lips to his in a messy, frantic kiss, open-mouthed and teeth clacking together. He can feel your body shaking violently underneath him, rocking with wave after wave of post-orgasm bliss, but he can’t seem to break himself from you, collapsed and clutching onto your smaller frame like it’s the only thing tethering him to this earth.

“Eren,” you finally say weakly, voice muffled as you smack at his shoulder, “you’re heavy.”

“Sorry,” he grunts, rolling off of you reluctantly. Your crumpled, naked form is still there, still so tempting and soft and warm. Your eyes are shut, so you don’t see Eren’s tentative hand reach for your hip, just wanting to rub a thumb comfortingly over the bone there, before he pulls back, second-guessing himself. A few pregnant beats pass by, Eren biting his tongue and holding his breath as he waits for you to make the first move, to direct him into how to speak to you after what’s just happened.

“I need to shower,” you finally say, words coming out in a breathless admission.

“Yeah,” Eren answers lamely, sitting up and looking around your room. There’s postcards from almost every country imaginable, tacked above your desk and fluttering in the breeze from your heating system. The desk itself is a wreck, dozens of papers and books scattered around in seemingly no order. Eren notices a little stuffed teddy bear tossed onto the floor and picks it up with a smile, placing it back against your pillows.

“Are you…”

“Am I…?” Eren looks at you, hoping that his pleading gaze isn’t too horribly obvious.

“I think Historia will kill me if she sees you leaving in the morning.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Eren swears he can see something like regret fly over your face, and you turn your back to him instantly, scrounging around on the ground..

“I don’t know,” Eren wheezes through his shellshock, trying to force out a nonchalant chuckle that only sounds strangled and tense, “she’s pretty short. I don’t know how she could manage it.”

“You’d be surprised,” you slip a bathrobe over your shoulders and grant him a mirthless smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

Eren dresses in the heavy silence that’s fallen over the room, pulling his shirt over his head and having to inwardly brace himself to face you. Eren’s comfortable with himself, probably knows a little too well that he’s an attractive guy, but he feels completely naked even fully clothed when he turns around to see you, standing all cozy and fucked out and sleepy in your fuzzy robe.

“So…” Eren trails off, wanting to smack his own face for speaking first.

“Have a good night, I guess,” you look up at him and then quickly away, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. Eren steels himself, lets every bit of courage he can find in his body rise to his mouth, forcing it to move.

“Are we, you know, good?”

“Good?”

“We said a lot of things to each other back there,” Eren can’t meet your gaze, can practically feel his face burning as he scratches anxiously at the back of his head. When he forces himself to look at you, there’s something odd and unreadable in your eyes. Are you sad? No, you’re smiling. Well, sort of smiling– it looks contrived, not real. But you’re not angry, not entirely.

“Yeah, I’m good if you are.” That stupid, insincere smile is still twisting your features. 

Eren doesn’t like the look of dishonesty on you, but he’s fought enough for tonight. He’s sad, spent, and tired, and he figures it’s hopeless anyway.

“Okay, good,” he makes his way to your bedroom door, fingers twitching for the feel of your skin under his, eyes damn near watering, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“See ya.”

And with that, Eren’s left alone in the cold of your apartment hallway, alone and sickened by the feelings of satisfaction and longing swirling in his chest.

[mewwfr]

Oh my god, staff.....

This auraboa issue with the lore being (most likely) unintentionally racist is especially maddening to me, because the concept they seem to want to portray (based purely on the encyclopedia entry) is very similar to an OC I have, and so I can say with experience, it's incredibly difficult to convey! ESPECIALLY when you try to portray it inside a short story where you're cutting lines for word count (their forum reply mentioned they left out some lines to keep it short)

Instead of getting across the concept the encyclopedia entry seems to allude to, the short story just accidentally walks into like 10 racism rakes in a row and its truly agonizing for me to watch, knowing what i assume the actual lore's intent is.

encyclopedia quote: "Older generations of Auraboa existed in a constant state of communion with their fellows. They refer to this connection as The Loop. In this persistent state they perceive time and memory in a non-linear manner; their intertwined considerations for past and present events are such that it became difficult for a dragon outside The Loop to grasp the intentions of these ancient wyrms."

what seems to be the intention is that the auraboa are a hivemind that doesn't experience time the same way other dragons do- they experience past, present, and future all at once and thus cannot communicate well NOT because they have a different language, but because they aren't experiencing TIME ITSELF in the same fashion as the dragons! However, in practice, in the story, the auraboa seem to speak with words in the proper order, just haltingly, since otherwise the story itself couldn't work at all.

another encyclopedia bit: "The newest generation of Auraboa is not linked to The Loop in their waking hours. While they move through the world, they are less directly accessible and read as "silent" to Auraboa who are within the communal state. This disconnection has allowed the young Auraboa to experience time in a linear fashion, and with this new understanding they have begun to form connections with other species of dragon that have never before been possible."

The encyclopedia seems more clear about the Linear Time thing, and that being why they can actually communicate sensibly, but in the act of having a story where the older ones DO communicate with the outside dragons and get a point across, they've kind of not shown the reason why dragons and auraboa COULDNT communicate before! which is! a big thing!

If they'd implemented the auraboa speaking with everything in the wrong order instead of halting single words at a time, i feel like the intention would get across better. As it is, it just smacks them directly into the 'simple native' stereotype with a truly awful tripping into the 'having our kids be taught by outsiders' which is. a really wretched parallel, as many native people have spoken of the unimaginable violence of residential schools.

I feel like the encyclopedia entry Alone isn't nearly as awful (still not great, but not as bad) as the extremely poorly implemented story that managed to ddr dance onto a bunch of horrible tropes.

they were literally so bad at conveying the fact that the auraboa are a hivemind that is unmoored from time, that i see people misinterpreting the lore as auraboa having their own weird language that other dragons can't understand! there was not enough effort put into conveying the ideas they tried to convey, and what WAS put forward was literally chock full of the most unfortunate parallels physically possible.

[i-will-change-this-someday]

Here are my thoughts on The Vengeance Saga.

(Spoilers ahead)

I enjoyed it, I don’t think it’s my favorite, but I still really like it.

I think it’s because this is the first saga to come out after I started listening, but the transitions to each song seems a bit abrupt.

Cause when I think about it, the cut from Just A Man to Full Speed Ahead, Open Arms to Warrior Of The Mind, and The Underworld to No Longer You are all pretty abrupt as well.

Pretty sure this is an unpopular opinion, but Calypso is... fine? She's not good by any means, but people act like she's evil incarnate.

I don't know if I'm missing something here, but why are people making her out to be most evil character in all of EPIC?

Polyphemus thinks it's fair to kill 600 people over the life of one sheep (That he would have killed and eaten anyway?)

Poseidon kills over 500 men all for his own pride (I really don't think he actually cared that much about Polyphemus given how crass he sounded about killing him)

Circe turns men into pigs (And eats them?) without giving them a chance at proving that they mean no harm

Odysseus sacrifices the lives of his men who he is captain to, and I might be talking nonsense, but I feel like that means that he has a responsibility to them and their safety, he is their captain, they are saying "I trust you with my life and to take me home" and he betrayed that trust

All of them do these awful things, but you can understand why they do. But for some reason the same is not given to Calypso, she literally says he is all she's ever known. It's not fair for her to keep Odysseus on the island, but can you blame her when letting him go means she'll be alone again? Would you be able to let the one and only person you have ever met go? Knowing you'd likely be alone again forever?

Anyway what I don't see nearly enough is hatred for Antinous, I hate that man, he's literally a child abuser (I know Telemachus isn't a child, but he was at one point and Antinous was there [Telemachus literally doesn't even know how to fight] do you really think he didn't abuse that child?) That man is (assumedly) already nobility, but that's not good enough for him, he needs to be king and will force himself onto Penelope and kill her son.

Okay rant over, anyways Dangerous is a bop.

I really do adore Troy's voice, and really like his music (I'm actually listening to his music as I write this)

Dangerous is probably my favorite song this saga, but only in terms of "I will listen to this outside of a full listen of the musical" I probably wouldn't listen to the others without context of the rest of the musical.

How do you pronounce Charybdis?

I do feel like he got past Charybdis really easily, but I get that Poseidon was the focus for the saga, so I don't mind it.

Steven Rodriguez's voice is so good.

I was kinda hoping for one more verse from Poseidon before Odysseus's line but that's alright

At this point I shouldn't even be surprised if there's a Polites cameo

Also I feel like this is a given, But Jorge's voice is also amazing, and he really gave his all for the screams and yells this saga.

Okay, time for another tangent, I'll admit the wind bag jetpack is kinda goofy, but it's really not that bad to me. Ancient Greece also didn't have high fives (I'm pretty sure anyways) but people don't say anything about that, also the slang "sick" probably wasn't invented in ancient Greece. (I will say, I did like one idea I saw that someone say [I'm sorry, I don't remember who] that the wind bag split the ocean and they were fighting on the ocean floor)

I've seen a lot of people be mad that Odysseus beat Poseidon, but I feel like it would have been unsatisfying if he just lost. Like say he didn't beat him, and was getting beaten up until Zeus or someone was like "Yo, chill bro that dude is like fine or whatever, let him go" I feel like that would have been an underwhelming conclusion to the Vengeance Saga.

Like sure, should Poseidon been able to kill Odysseus? Yes. But don't humans beat the Gods in some stories? (I‘ll be honest, I don’t know a whole lot about Greek mythology and most of what I do know is from PJO which I haven’t read in a while.) Like Arachne was a better weaver than Athena, or Diomedes wounded Ares (?) so I feel like it’s not that unreasonable.

I’m not saying you have to like it, I just feel like people are saying it’s bad without giving an alternative that would be narratively satisfying. Like, it’s satisfying to get to see Odysseus knock Poseidon down a peg, it’s compelling to see how much Odysseus has become a monster, and wonder how much more he will fall to monstrosity before he returns home.

To me, the story is a tragedy about a man who wanted something so much he gave everything he had, his morals, his companions, his compassion, he gave everything for it, and in the end he became someone else entirely.

Ody beating up Poseidon shows how much he has changed, if he had lost and just pleaded with him, how is he any different from the Odysseus that got on his knees and begged a god to spare a life in the very first song? He's not that man anymore, he has changed so much that it's, at least in this moment, a god kneeling and begging.

[ficsbyuzi]

All the ways lead to you - part 3

Read Part 2

Characters - Aemond Targaryen and Inara Maegyr (OFC) in a modern AU.

Warnings - Slow burn. Mentions of alcohol and smoking. 

Summary - Inara tries to figure out how she feels about everything that happened on her first day at work.

Note - Flashback and internal monologues are in Italics.

Word count - 1593

"He is a man of few words. You'll get used to his personality once you start working with him," Margaery's voice cut through the hustle and bustle of the coffee house.

"He seems hard to impress," Inara shrugged, adding sweetener to her coffee.

"Well, he is a celebrity, a superstar here in Westeros. He meets and works with so many people every day. In his situation, anyone would act stoically while dealing with their staff."

Of course. He looks every bit of a superstar.

"His family descends from the ancient Targaryen royal line and still kind of owns this city."

Oh. Wow. Targaryens of Old Valyria.

Margaery chuckled, noticing Inara's eyebrows shoot up in astonishment and awe.

“Red Keep Production house and studios are half owned by them, so this show is his home production. Have you seen any of his work before?"

So he is The Boss.

“I should have done some homework before coming here." Smiling sheepishly, Inara made a mental note to watch some of Aemond's acting projects over the weekend.

They finished their coffee and she took her leave to attend her second orientation meeting with the on-set medical team. However, she had a hard time focusing on the presentations, her thoughts constantly drifting back to him. 

To the enigmatic Aemond Targaryen. 

Back home, she tried to immerse herself in her chores and her books, but thoughts of him clung to her like a shadow she couldn't shake off.

Although she was left feeling a bit intimidated by his presence, she couldn't help but replay her brief encounter with him in her mind.

His voice still thrummed through each fiber of her being, drowning her in a tantalizing warmth.

He was not around her anymore, yet she could still feel his gaze lingering on her, like an invisible caress.

There was something about him - both unnerving and exhilarating. Intimidating yet inviting. 

An inexplicable pull was drawing her to him. 

Maybe he has the same effect on everyone around him.

Maybe I am merely in awe of a celebrity. 

Yeah that's all it is. 

But since when have I started fangirling over movie or TV stars?

She rolled her eyes at her chattering mind and tried to clear her head by writing in her journal.

I had a good day today. The world of glamor and showbiz is a realm far beyond anything I've ever known. But I need to learn more about how to maintain a professional decorum. It is unlikely that I will ever have the chance to know someone like Aemond Targaryen on a deeper level.

Smiling, she stared at his name on the paper for a moment. Of all the words she had ever written, those were two she never thought she would find in her personal journal. Ignoring the flock of butterflies taking flight in her chest, she continued - 

I'm just an employee. A small cog in the grand machinery of his professional life. Why would he pay any attention to me?

She frowned at her own musings, closing her journal with a sigh. Glancing at her phone one last time, she noticed the emails from both teams in her inbox. Emails that were a reminder of her role as a professional. She was there to work and forge a path to a career she aspired for.

The sky thundered outside, the sound interrupting the chain of her thoughts and bringing her back to her reality once again. 

My first rain in King's Landing. 

As the clouds began to pour, sleep gently flickered her eyes closed. Her mind, hanging between wakefulness and the subliminal, recalled a cherished memory from the past - her father telling her favorite bedtime story about a valiant Valyrian prince and his dragon, the largest in the world.

-

Two months ago.

"You need a drink," Criston Cole, Aemond’s best friend and his personal assistant, remarked pointing a finger at him as he entered his office. He dropped a file onto his cluttered desk, taking the chair across the table.

"It's ten in the morning," Aemond replied, sifting through the pile of documents scattered around, his frustration palpable.

"Your face says it's ten at night."

Aemond sighed deeply, rolling his eyes. Criston chuckled, pulling out a cigarette and offering it to him, who accepted reluctantly. Criston placed one between his teeth too, lighting the cigarettes for both. Taking a long drag, both men leaned back in their chairs.

"This project is vital. It has to work. We have it to get renewed for two more seasons," Aemond said, exhaling a thick plume of smoke through his nose.

"Everything will be alright."

"As long as my uncle sits on the board, nothing will be alright," Aemond muttered, his gaze drifting back to the mess on his desk.

"Why do you worry so much? Your mother and I are doing the best we can."

"That's not enough!” Aemond's voice rose as he slapped the table, causing a few papers to flutter. "Where's Aegon? Why isn't he in the office? I have rehearsals; I shouldn't be doing his work." He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and stood up abruptly. "Call him right now!"

"Aemond, calm down," Criston said, his concern evident in his voice. 

"And this..this pile of papers - why is it on my desk?" Aemond swiped the files off his desk in a fit of rage. "Where are my scripts? Where is the report on the CGI budget?"

One of the folders slid to the edge of the table, its contents spilling out. A document with a photograph of a young woman caught Aemond's eye. Instinctively, he picked it up.

"Do I have to do the hiring too now?” His tone softened a notch as he examined the document - a resume, “Be an HR consultant too?" 

The name on the document read - Inara Maegyr. Bachelor of Medicine. Diploma in Makeup and Prosthetic arts.

"I brought that file. It's a list of shortlisted medicos," Criston explained, stretching out a hand to take it from Aemond, who was still engrossed in the document. "And it wasn't for you to check, anyway."

"Hire her." Aemond handed over the resume he was holding and tossed the rest of the folder aside.

"What? Hire who?" Criston asked, his face contorted in confusion as he took the document from Aemond, who was already lighting another cigarette. "There are interviews and proper processes to follow before the project goes on the floor. I can't just hire anyone..” He paused to check the name on the resume.

 “Inara Maegyr, what's with her?"

Aemond only exhaled curls of smoke in response.

"She seems... interesting," Criston said, raising an eyebrow at the document.

“Hire her, she looks..” Aemond fumbled, but quickly corrected the course, “I mean, she seems suitable for the job.” He flicked his cigarette into the ashtray, watching the embers fade.

“We don't want to lose a talented candidate, do we?” 

“Who's acting like an HR consultant now?” Criston teased him. 

-

Aemond was reclining on a couch in his opulent bedroom, an unbuttoned shirt draping over his frame, a cigarette poised between his fingers. Wisps of smoke swirled around him, as he gazed up the ceiling, lost in his thoughts. 

Thoughts of her.

Her innocent smile. 

A smile that felt like a refreshing mist in the putridness of his life. A simple, unassuming gesture from her, yet it pierced through the shadows that often clouded his days. 

The way her stunning, fire-colored eyes lit up when she approached him with her sweet demeanor, stayed with him. 

Taking a deep drag from his cigarette, he ran a hand through his hair, as he recalled their brief interaction. A smile played on his lips, resurfacing the dimple on his cheek. 

Ever since he had read her resume, he had been curious about the woman behind those impressive credentials. He had been eagerly anticipating meeting her in person.

But upon finding her so close, his words scrambled out of nervousness, and he couldn't even make eye contact with her - an unusual experience for him. Typically, people went speechless in front of him, not the other way around. He couldn't afford to shatter his composed exterior. He couldn't allow her to expose a vulnerability that he rarely acknowledged. 

But now, he was certain that he had driven away the unstained, unadulterated warmth she emanated. Unintentionally, he had intimidated her. 

He wasn't accustomed to being caught off guard by such intense emotions for someone he had just met.

It had been years since anyone had stirred any feelings within him. 

Despite being surrounded by a bevy of attractive business women, actresses, and models at work, he had never felt this way about anyone else, the way he felt about - 

“Inara,” surprised by the unfamiliar sensation of her name on his lips, he realised he had never voiced her name before.

Curiously, he picked up his phone to google the meaning of her name.

A ray of light.

An image of a ray of light piercing through the window of a darkened room closed for too long, surfaced in his mind. 

Sky roared outside, pulling him back into his dimly lit room. The sound of heavy raindrops splattering and clattering against the sophisticated French windows lulled him to sleep.

As he closed his eyes, a soothing petrichor filled his retiring senses, wrapping him in a blanket of tranquility.

The sweet, mellow scent brought back the memory of the moment when their eyes first met.

-x-

Taglist - @zenka69

Part 4

[auncyen]

Same anon with the mira and bonnie ask, lobed your response but felt weird to just put it in w/o a question so if you don’t mind:

what do you think siffrin’s life was like before joining the party? Could be pre- or post- forgotten island. Idk to me its fascinating bc they were loved in some measure (cloak, jokingly running away bc of veggies) and are p in touch with their culture when they remember it, but at the same time siffrin’s mindset is pretty unhealthy. Like even before looping/during act 2 loops, they seemed unconcerned about serious bodily harm and death that would happen to them + just seems to have. A very strange relationship with people feeling sad instead of happy around them? Idk i just don’t think that’s from just the memory loss.

See I think kid Siffrin was pretty happy. As Isabeau notes whoever gave them the cloak and hat must have really loved them. When Siffrin recounts running away it's in a carefree way--he knew he could give his parents a scare and it'd go down as "just a prank". Basically their home life was really good. There are questions I have about the island's beliefs / values that might be troublesome, but I don't really think that sort of thing grates on a kid with a happy home life too much. (And also as a little note the only glimpse we get into the island's beliefs/values are through Siffrin and King, two individuals who cannot recall those things completely and are very traumatized, so like. Should probably take a grain of salt on how they portray the beliefs anyway.)

Post-island I admittedly read a LOT into how Siffrin finds Vaugarde's openness weird and had kept their hair dyed up until a few months pre-game.

In his experience, other countries are not as welcoming. So I imagine their teenage years were probably pretty lonely. This isn't to say other countries were completely awful--he obviously enjoyed Poteria's plays!--but they were juuust old enough where few would assume just by looking at them "uh, you're on your own, do you need help?" If they stayed long enough in a spot for people to figure out something was wrong it'd invite questions like "where are you from", "where are your parents", basically questions that'd make Siffrin's head hurt and probably lead to them cutting off the interaction if the other person doesn't walk away first because they're put off or alarmed by Siffrin's reactions. Basically, there probably WERE well-meaning attempts to help Siffrin. They backfired because people didn't know what was wrong with Siffrin (Siffrin didn't know what was wrong with Siffrin). Siffrin probably beat himself up for it when he knew the other person was trying to help and he was just too "broken". As a teenager he probably stayed longest in places where adults assumed he was a runaway that didn't want to talk about it and maybe helped him out in a more "hands-off" way--"hey, run this errand for me and I'll give you dinner and a roof for the night". Which, great! Because Siffrin finds a way to get by. But it doesn't deal with any of the emotional issues festering inside.

I also feel like, while this may be a bit dark for the fantasy setting, Siffrin probably got targeted at times for being a young traveler on their own. I mean I also headcanon that Siffrin was very good at escaping dicey situations, partially because they'd start Wish Crafting unconsciously if they were really scared, so they were never seriously harmed. But they weren't good experiences to have!

I also kind of headcanon that pre-canon with not knowing who they are like--they loved plays. But also, like. I can see them at times hurting when they think about plays, how they'd be portrayed in a play. No true name, no past, no home, no relations. At best they're the jester who mocks a King gone wrong and makes the audience laugh. At worst they're a side character killed off-stage in a tragedy, barely important enough to devote two lines to. What kind of play would have a protagonist with zero emotional stake in anything?

They try to be the jester, at least. Sometimes, when he's feeling brave enough. It tends to fizzle pretty quickly. (And then he meets someone who doubles over laughing at a bad pun.)

So yeah I feel like Siffrin pretty much mastered the art of getting by and also as in this post actually being pretty good at fighting pre-canon, but socially well. They can ask directions in at least half a dozen languages but can't be honest about how they're feeling or what's going on with them in a single blinding one. Then they meet a group that's in desperate need of another fighter and 2 of them are Vaugardians who are willing to accept Siffrin's eccentricities as just part of them and not ask questions and Odile's pragmatic enough to not rock the boat unnecessarily. I pretty much do view the group as being the first chance Siffrin remembers getting to bond with people without it going south by them wanting to know their background. Of course he loves them. Of course it doesn't really matter what happens to him, who's going to miss him?? They have homes and families and friends. They're the real heroes. He's just supporting cast.

...So yeah tl;dr pre-island vanishing I think Siffrin's life was just fine. post-island was an incredible amount of loneliness and the Universe putting his brain in a blender and idly hitting the pulse button every so often. This is not even getting into experiencing the physical side of puberty while not knowing who you are or who to ask for help, which, yikes.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Sinner & Saint: Creed III Chapter 9

Need to catch up? Of course you do. Masterlist HERE.

"Woke up this morning Found my peace of mind Finally, I can say to you That I, feel good this morning No, I can't deny So finally I can lay with you And feel, feel the pleasure Finally do what lovers do, with you, babe Ride for two Don't you know, oh So we (so we) can roll how we want to, yeah

Set fire to the fucking pavement They bound to drown so they can't relate And just do what I say, do what I say, no My baby got her own fuckin' ways now Tellin' y'all she ain't fuckin' playin', ay Ain't need no problems from her man I know she ain't worried (she ain't worried)"

Terrace Martin – "This Morning (feat. Arin Ray and Smino)"

She moved through the crowd like a silent wind through chimes that tinkled once she blew past. Her steps were assured, eyes laser sharp on who she needed to speak to on his behalf.

Damian watched in awe as Athena worked the packed penthouse filled with stars, sports influencers, executives, groupies, agents, managers, lawyers, and riff raff. He drank a few shots, gobbled up some hors d'oeuvres, and kept near his new boss. A few women checked him out and tried making conversation with him. He acted polite, answered very few questions about his connection to Athena and rested in the cut letting her lead everything. Feeling out of place once more, his brooding appearance seemed to attract even more women as the party continued through the night. Bianca excused herself and he realized that the penthouse they partied in was not the one Donnie and his family stayed in. Smart.

"Damian, this is Karl Gaston and Alessandro Beyna. Karl is a regional wealth advisor in the Cayman Islands and Alessandro handles investments there," Athena said.

Damian shook their hands and tried to look friendly. Athena tossed back her hair and placed a hand on his arm.

"Damian will soon be signing with my brother's company and I'll be working out some portfolio plans for him. He's going to need people that can take care of his money for future investments," Athena said.

The two white men nearly salivated listening to her. Athena had his pockets lined up with imaginary money. The two men would laugh him out of the hotel if they knew the total amount of cash he had in his paltry bank account at that moment. He rolled with her flow, keeping stoic in their presence. Business cards were exchanged with him and not Athena. She directed all the power to him turning into his conduit for all transactions in the place. Women were bolder, grabbing his attention with flirty banter and hungry stares. Nothing was subtle. He spent a moment alone with Athena in the back of the main room, until Donnie caught up with them. They took pictures together with hired photographers documenting the party for Donnie. It didn't take long for the champ to shoehorn his way between himself and Athena. She allowed it, a sly grin on her face as she joined a group of women.

"She's in her zone," Donnie said, glancing at his sister.

"Half the shit she says to the people goes over my head," Damian said.

"Wheeling and dealing."

"She's good. Knows a ton of people here."

"She'll keep the sharks away. For now, enjoy the anonymity," Donnie said.

Damian looked Donnie in the eye.

"You two a thing?" Donnie asked.

"Business partners."

Damian walked away before Donnie could flap his gums about anything else. Athena was a grown ass woman. Her baby brother wasn't about to lecture him on hooking up with her. She reached for Damian's hand and pulled him toward a young Black man with hooded eyes and a garish haircut to his permed blonde hair.

"Dame this is Raven X, stylist to the stars. I'm setting up an appointment for you two to get together back in L.A."

Raven X raked his eyes up and down Damian's physique.

"What are you looking for, Bad Boy tease or elegant showman?" Raven X said.

Athena tilted her head and squinted at Damian.

"I'm thinking future champion. I want his fits so crisp that they cut people in the eyes just by looking at him," she said.

Raven X nodded and stared at the top of Damian's head.

"Great head of hair. Formidable face. I'll give you a sexy fucking gladiator," Raven X said.

"I like it. Talk soon," Athena said.

She led Damian to the door.

"We're leaving?" he asked.

"Yep. Never be the last to leave the room. Smells of desperation."

"Where you two goin'?"

Donnie's blaring voice stopped their escape. Athena leveled her gaze at her brother.

"Damian's had a long night. He needs rest. We have meetings back in L.A. the moment we touch down," Athena said.

"When can I be looped in?"

Donnie's eyes flicked back and forth between them.

"We'll be in touch," Athena said.

She touched Damian's arm and he moved past her.

"Congratulations on everything tonight," Damian threw over his shoulder.

Donnie's expression appeared bewildered as they left the suite.

"Don't worry, I'll have terms and conditions lined up for you before we meet with my brother. You and I have to decide what trajectory you want for your career the next eighteen months."

"I just need some good fights lined up."

"You need more than that. We have to cultivate an image, create buzz with a catchy name—"

"Diamond Dame"

"What?"

"Diamond Dame is what I went by before I was in the pen."

They slipped into a private elevator and went up two floors. Athena eyed him from head to toe. She touched the collar of his shirt.

"Hmmm, Diamond Dame. With Raven's capable hands, you just might live up to that name. I like it. Classy. Rolls off the tongue."

"Yeah?" he said, moving in closer to her.

The elevator doors opened and Athena jumped back from him like water hitting hot grease. Mary Anne Creed stood in front of the opening dressed in a linen two-piece suit.

"Ma," Athena squeaked out. "Where are you going?"

"Well, Amara is fast asleep and Bianca is back in their suite. I'm free to go do a little gambling on the house. Where are you two headed?"

"We just came from Donnie's party."

Mary Anne checked her vintage diamond Cartier watch.

"It's not even midnight. Still early for his celebration to end," Mary Anne said with a lifted eyebrow.

"Damian and I have some business to discuss. I'm his new manager."

"Manager…?"

Athena gripped Damian's arm and pulled him out of the lift and away from her mother.

"Yes. Enjoy throwing money away," Athena called over her shoulder.

Damian glanced back at Donnie's adoptive mother. Mary Anne's sharp eyes cut into him despite the feigned pleasant look she tried to maintain.

Athena dug into her clutch and pulled out a keycard and tapped it against her suite. She led him to a busy-looking work station set up on the room's mahogany desk. Pushing back the executive chair, she plopped down and pointed to a side chair for him to pull up next to her. A laptop came to life from the touch of her hand and onscreen she had a detailed prospective typed up with his name all over it. She scrolled through several pages and stopped at one particular page.

"You whipped this all up today before the fight?" he asked.

"I'm always prepared to snatch up talent. This is just a mock up to give you an idea of what I can do. You don't have to sign anything now."

She tapped the enter key and a printer behind the laptop hummed to life and began printing up several sheets of paper. When the printer spit out the last page, Athena compiled them all and stapled two separate stacks. She handed him a copy and he listened to her go over every detail on ten full pages. His brain grew foggy with all the terminology, but he listened intently, trusting her completely. After forty minutes, she poured them both fresh glasses of water from the mini-bar and paced in front of him.

"Boxing needs excitement again, and they love an underdog story. The key is, they grow tired of that scenario after a few years. I think we should play up your background, but involve you back in your community. Do some volunteer work and talks at juvie facilities. See Donnie was able to coast on being our father's lost child, but he's been pampered and trained by a legend. Rocky isn't around anymore and now that my brother is retiring—"

"He's quitting?"

Athena gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Donnie is old news. His era is over. His mistake was calling himself Hollywood. The connotations made him seem elitist after awhile. Even when he won the championship, people still saw him as a privileged athlete, a nepo baby lucky enough to have my daddy's genes and access to the best that no one else did. With you—"

"I call myself Diamond, that's not elitist?"

"Not with your narrative. You were the lost jagged rock in the cold, cruel mine that became a diamond in the rough. A long prison bid and a hard-luck come-back story outshines a rich, spoiled pretty boy tale any day."

"Donnie didn't have it so easy before he was adopted by your mom."

"Is that what he told you?"

"He stayed in a group home, was in and out of foster care…"

The look on Athena's face made him clam up tight. She rested a soft hand on his shoulder.

"One of these days, I'm going to tell you about your little friend," she said.

"Tell me now. I have all night."

"No. Tonight, you will read over this contract, my mission statement for you, and you'll look for a contract lawyer on your own to go over my paperwork before you sign with me."

Damian rolled his eyes and pushed out of his seat realizing he wasn't getting any nookie.

"Don't pout. Business first, pleasure later," she said, pointing to the door.

He ambled out of her suite with his lips in a pout. She crossed her arms.

"I've got an amazing view of the strip. Champagne on ice…"

His words didn't move her.

"Goodnight Diamond Dame."

She closed the door in his face.

"I can't believe she gave me homework," he said, shuffling off to the elevator clutching onto precious papers that would elevate his life.

Back in his suite he placed the preliminary contract on the end of his bed and stripped out of his clothes. He showered, brushed and flossed his teeth before slipping into black satin sleep shorts. He grabbed a fresh bottle of chilled champagne from the suite's mini fridge and popped it open. A knock at his door surprised him. He put the champagne on the low table near the couch and padded over to the door, peeking through the keyhole. He grinned.

Opening the door he gave Athena a wide smile. She wore a thin purple overcoat and opened it for him. Underneath was a red sheer teddy that displayed everything that his mind imagined from the moment he met her.

"Hello," she purred.

She touched his chest with her index finger and pushed him back inside his suite, shutting the door behind her.

"I thought I was supposed to read over my paperwork," he teased.

"Oh you are…let's just say I'm your paperwork and I want you to enter into this contract," she said.

She dropped the coat on the floor and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You're full of surprises," he said.

"Get used to it Diamond Dame."

He lifted Athena up in his arms and kissed her while he carried her toward his sleeping area. He kicked away the contract papers and placed her on the bed. Getting on his knees he wedged himself between her open thighs and cradled her face with his hands.

"I can't believe you're real sometimes," he said.

Her eyes flicked away as her dazzling smile blessed him once more, but he held her chin forcing her to look directly at him.

"You're the best thing to happen to me in my life, Athena. That means a lot to a man like me in the situation I'm in. I don't know what you see in me to make you give me so much."

"I see a champion who deserves a second chance at the title."

"Is it just that? Or is it about besting Donnie too?"

She touched his hand and pulled it away from her face.

"Me and Donnie are a complicated pair…and yeah, spoiling his plans for you is a part of it."

"Plans for me?"

"Controlling your narrative to protect his. By keeping you from being under his thumb I can take you to the heights that no other boxer has been. I see a documentary, a tv series, fashion, and more for your future. A fallen hero returning to his roots and taking over more than just the boxing world. My father's life was cut short from reaching his full potential. I plan on taking you far Damian Anderson."

"What's in it for you?"

"Everything."

She kissed him. Her warm, wet mouth overwhelmed him into submission on his knees. Athena stole his heart as she kissed him, their tongues soft and gentle together.

He stood up when the carpet became too scratchy for his knees. His erection comically saluted her forehead. Athena laughed and hooked her fingers into his satin shorts, pulling them off and freeing his heavy dick. Dropping to her knees, she licked the tip like it was a sweet chocolate lollipop and he nearly blew his load all over his face. Goddamn she was like a gorgeous Black Barbie doll. The dreamy pin-up girl guys beat their meat to in a fantasy world they would never see become reality. Athena was a nasty girl too, spitting and slurping all over the wide head. She licked below his frenulum and the sensitive skin there had him groaning her name.

"Athena…Athena…"

She offered her tongue and Damian squeezed pre-cum there in thick rivulets. He tilted his neck and stroked under the thick ridge of his dick, watching her pucker and kiss his slit where more clear fluid spilled onto her glossy red lips. She began throating his erection with gusto, keeping her eyes on him. He wanted to nut on her face so bad, but thought it would be too rude and aggressive for their first time together. His dick became a hot and heavy saber in his hand and he was desperate to chop down the beauty before him.

"Such a pretty face," he murmured, touching her cheek.

"You want to cum on it, don't you?"

Athena's words were so seductive and her tone was so full of lust and desire that he couldn't hold back.

"Fuck…!"

They both watched his big dick throb in his hand and spurt thick creamy semen all across the bridge of her nose and all over her lips. Athena snapped her eyes shut and slanted her head back so more of his cum could drench the side of her face. Before he could apologize for nutting unexpectedly, she wrapped her lips around his meat and sucked another nut right out. His mouth became a tight line as he held her head and helped her gobble up his dick with spectacular deep throating. He had to tap out when she fondled his balls trying to milk him for more.

She swallowed and smacked her lips.

"You have a lot of cum," she said with wet sticky lips.

She stared at his dick. It was still erect and pointing at her messy face. She took off her cute teddy and waltzed to his bathroom. Two minutes later she returned with a fresh face without cum all over it. He stayed mesmerized by the bounce of her breasts and admired her amazing figure.

"My turn," she said, pushing him down on the bed.

She climbed over his body and planted her sopping wet pussy on his lips. Every lick he gave her, he stopped to look at her slippery labia and the soft pink of her pussy. He sucked on her clit like it was a delicate berry and her keening sighs let him know he was doing the job she wanted. He gripped her thighs and held her down tight, smothering his mouth against her entire vulva.

"Yes, baby, eat my pussy…oh Damian, you're eating it so good," she panted, grinding down on his fleshy lips.

She reached behind and fisted his dick while he feasted on the sweetest pussy he ever tasted in his life. The scent between her thighs was heavenly and he inserted his tongue inside of her sweet pink walls. Athena bounced on his tongue and cursed him for how good he was. He flipped her over and nestled his face between her legs, pinning them down to control her movement. She whimpered and gazed at his wide tongue slathering her vulva. He switched up and flicked the tip of his tongue against her clit and she threw an arm over her eyes, unable to watch his entire mouth do a praise dance all over her sensitive nerve endings. His tongue spelled out his name all over her labia and clit, claiming her for himself.

"Ohmigod…Damian…I'm cumming baby! You're making me cum all in your mouth…oh God!"

Her thighs snapped around his head and he hung on, keeping his thick lips pressed against her clit giving it small circles. His head and neck rocked and rolled with all of her flailing limbs on the bed. She was strong so he had to put some muscle on her to keep her from flying across the room with her orgasm. He pinched the tips of her nipples and she cursed him yet again with her thighs shaking uncontrollably.

It took a few minutes for her body to simmer back down and he made note that she was multi-orgasmic. He felt like a lucky sonofabitch.

"I was not expecting that," she huffed out. "You can go for a long time. Jesus!'

Damian raised his body up to be closer to her on the bed. She was covered in sweat and strands of her hair clung to her cheeks in damp ringlets. Brushing back her hair, Athena rolled over to lay her head against his chest. They cuddled quietly, watching the lights of the strip twinkling their seductive call to gamble and dance. When her breathing settled, they kissed and he fondled her breasts. Her eyes became glassy and her gently fingered her pussy, watching her expression to learn what she liked for research purposes. He liked nice plump titties and a tight pussy. She had both. His calloused fingers created the perfect friction she needed and he pleasured her vulva and slick walls until her pussy clenched around his two curled fingers.

"That's my good girl," he said, gazing at her beautiful face as her mouth dropped open from the intense release. "My dick will feel even better once you let me put it in this pretty pussy."

He looked at the bald shiny vulva of her Brazilian wax and his mouth watered. He'd never had a hairless pussy before. It didn't even feel real and he was captivated by the smooth slickness.

"Will you let me nut all over this pussy?"

Athena's mouth still gaped open and his words had her pussy throbbing all over his fingers.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said. "So tight and wet. Can I make a big ole mess inside of here too?"

"Oh!"

Athena almost collapsed on herself riding out her wave of pleasure.

"I know this pussy will squeeze my big dick so good."

He moved his fingers a little to extend her release and pressed his thumb into her clit hard.

"I'll smack these big nuts against that ass too…make you cum all over my balls."

She was like putty in his hands. He pulled out his fingers and licked them. God she tasted even better than before. How was that possible? He allowed her to rest while he kissed and licked her all over, sucking on her toes while he played with his dick for her. Her eyes traced every part of his body and the lust she had for it was quite evident. He felt the same way about hers. They were built for each other.

After caressing her curves and valleys, he pulled her on top of him to feel skin on skin warmth. Her hair fanned out all across his neck and he sniffed the fragrant hair oil she coated her tresses with. Jasmine and maybe rose oil mixed in.

They both fell asleep until the morning sun rose up, the light falling across their naked bodies like a cozy yellow blanket.

Athena slid down his chest and engulfed the head of his penis in wet warmth, bobbing her head while he touched her hair. He said nothing when she climbed on top of him and slid her pussy down his length unsheathed. Her eyes didn't have desire or lust in them anymore…no, something else more powerful watched him as she went up and down on him so slow that his toes curled. His dick had her pussy stretched and talking. She had his shaft shiny and bewitched and once she started gyrating around and kissing his neck, he was mentally gone. God had to be looking out for him to bring her into his life.

Damian sat up and held Athena close. They rocked together on the bed face to face, staring into each other's eyes within a protective fortress of lovemaking. The world outside had vanished and there was only bliss for them inside. He would do anything this woman asked him to do for the rest of his days on earth.

"Fuck…Athena…"

Her ass cheeks felt slippery and wet from their natural lubrication flowing so freely on his lap. He was on the verge of ejaculating.

"'Bout to cum…"

She held the nape of his neck and pressed her forehead against his.

"Cum in my pussy," she whispered into his mouth.

"You sure?"

"Please. I want to feel you cumming inside me."

He groaned and thrust up into her faster, simply luxuriating in the snug hold she had on his dick. He lifted her by her hips and spread his legs more to get deeper inside.

"Don't ever leave me, Damian," she whispered.

He bucked into her hard and clasped her back with anchoring arms as a powerful flow surged from his balls and through his dick.

"I'd never leave you, Athena…you're my woman…"

She cried out and he shouted with her as his orgasm raced after hers.

"Oh my fucking God!" he hollered into her neck as hard throbs pushed hot cum into her pussy.

His body jerked several times and she trembled in his arms. Gasping together in a tangle of arms and legs and loving words, Damian and Athena shocked their own senses with the passion of their sex. She pulled away from him and sat back on her rump. He looked at her vulva. Her inner labia were plump and spread wide. Her pink opening still had the round gaping cavern of where his dick stretched her. Some of his creamy white semen spilled out in a gush. She played with it, smearing it all over her labia and clit.

He stroked her thigh.

"You can consider all that my signature for our contract," he said.

She laughed and held her labia open for him to see the continuous running trail of cum he put in her.

"It's so warm in my pussy," she said.

He snuggled up to her and they kissed for a long time before his stomach grumbled. Damian ordered room service for them and he had everything set up after Athena showered and walked out wearing one of his clean t-shirts. A full Creole-styled breakfast with champagne and cranberry juice was eaten on the bed. There was no rush to be anywhere. Athena's family was busy doing their own thing inside their suites. They ate their fill and snuggled under the covers together, letting the air-conditioner run giving them an excuse to spoon in body heat.

By noon Damian had his dick back inside of her raw under the covers, hitting it from his side with her back pressed into him. He whispered the filthiest things in her ear and fucked her like he missed her, like she had been waiting for him to get out of prison. Athena took that dick and choked it with her pussy. He fucked her within an inch of her life like he had something to prove. Damian put it down so good that she started sobbing and begged him to fuck her harder. He had vacillated between gentle and hard lovemaking, and Athena seemed to enjoy both ways, but her tears ushered in a pistoning of his hips to give her what she wanted.

Shoving her face down on top of the covers, he kept his hand on her neck and slammed into her perky ass. His back shots kept her cheeks clapping and his balls slapping. He glanced across the room at the mirrored closet doors and locked eyes with Athena. She watched him power drill into her with the happiest expression on her face. He slapped her ass hard several times and those round brown cheeks bounced in his palm like jello.

Damian wondered if she was one of those types that liked the idea of fucking a nigga fresh out the pen. She liked the way he talked dirty to her, his aggression exciting her with those tight pussy clenches she gave him. Didn't they say good girls always liked fucking with bad boys until they married a good boy later in life once they got all that illicitness out of their system?

Nah. Athena wasn't the good boy type. She knew how to talk greasy to people using fancy big words. He witnessed that at Donnie's celebration party. Beneath her perfect society princess façade was a gangster at heart. She had a cunning ruthlessness hidden under the calm, calculated exterior. Watching her face as he clapped her cheeks he recognized what she needed in a man. Someone who could control her in bed. Make her submit. Those tears weren't just from pleasure: she cried because she found the one man who could dominate her soul.

She arched her back and he pressed his hands lower on her spine. He circled his waist and she bit the covers and clawed the sheets. He spanked her with enough force to make her head jolt forward.

"Look at me," he demanded.

She turned her head and her dewy eyes stared back at him.

"Throw my pussy on this dick."

Her eyes widened at him claiming her pussy as his. A sparkle of joy glinted off her dark irises. He smacked her left ass cheek when she didn't move fast enough. Halting his thrusts, Damian looked down at her ass.

"That wasn't a suggestion," he said.

He didn't need to raise his voice, just shifted the tone the way he did when he was in prison and another inmate wanted to bother him out in the yard just to test him. They always found out that his soft controlled timbre could be backed up with brutal force. Athena picked up on that and jiggled her backside, sliding off his dick to position herself better before sliding back on his stiffness.

"Like that?" she asked.

Damn she fucked good. How many lames had she wasted prime pussy on before him? She chewed on her bottom lip until she had the best rhythm going for him and he grunted each time her cheeks slapped against his hard body.

"Is that good for you?" she cooed.

He didn't answer and that encouraged her to show out for him to get a reaction. His balls ached to cum.

"Fuck that shit Athena…"

She wiggled and he closed his eyes.

"Bitch, I said fuck this dick."

He pushed her face down again, had her body all the way on her stomach and started pounding her in that position until she screamed into the pillow her final orgasm of the day with him. The tight rings of her pussy tugging on his dick gave him permission to flood her with another eruption of semen. He dropped onto her back gulping all the air he could to help him tumble over next to her in a weakened heap.

Athena rolled against him again and clutched onto his chest, her fingernails softly circling the hairs around his left nipple.

"We gotta take a break," he said, "I know your pussy is sore because I was wearing that thang out."

She chuckled.

"I haven't been fucked this well in a long time," she said.

"Just well?"

"We have to go a few more times to see if this was just first time luckiness, or if my back will forever be blown out by you."

"Forever?" he said, looking down at her face.

"Is this a one and done, Damian?"

The hesitation in her voice proved to him that she had met her match and didn't want it to slip through her fingers.

"No one will ever take your place, Athena. Hear me? You're my angel."

Her eyes welled up, and she cried.

"Hey…hey…baby…," he said cuddling her closer.

"You're the one thing I have in my life right now that's just all mine," she said. "I don't want to lose that."

"I ain't going nowhere. Hey…look at me…I'm here for the long haul. You're the head that turns this body. When I get into the ring again, I'm going to bring you boxing heads on a platter until I prove all of your faith in me. You're the only person who stepped out on my behalf to help me without question. From day one. I have to repay you for that."

"What happens after you become champion?"

"Whatever we want."

He held her tight until she fell asleep in his arms, assuring her that they were a united team.

"It's you and me against the world, Athena," he whispered into her ear as she slumbered.

Chapter 10 HERE.

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[calciumdeficientt]

I'm fighting with the rest of the asks in Ur inbox for dominance GIVE ME LENORA AND PARKER HEADCANONS!!! ESP PROM ONES

Oh no no no i cant reduce it to just hcs. You’re getting the full Nelson baby!!!!!!! As per the prophecy, link for custom longform writings is here dudes!

PROM NIGHT

5,329 words of pure SAP

Bullworth had always seemed very stuck in its ways. From the architecture, gothic, awe-inspiring and decaying; to the uniforms, unchanged since the school was merely a concept, a set of white lines on blue architect’s paper sometime in the early 20th century; and most especially, its ethos- the school rules sprawled over ten pages of the A5 student handbook each member of the student body received at the beginning of their time at Bullworth. These rules were unchanged, untested. A Time Capsule. Written in the prose of their forefathers, forbidding many things that were far from the taboos they were then. One such rule was for any and all school dances, parties and other such social events: ‘one’s partner must be of the opposite sex, students are permitted to attend alone but partners of the same sex are strictly foreboden’. This created a barrier for Lenora Harker, who took great pride in being Bullworth’s resident party girl. In years gone by she would have gladly paired up with Kirby or Dan or any other jock willing to have her on his arm for the five seconds they were under the watchful eye of the prefects on the door. But those were past days, distant and fading. Most of her friends were seniors, and they were settling down into relationships that would soon fray once they reached college. They were settling with real girls, or trying to anyway. Those that were her age just wanted to go solo, pick up, and leave. Lenora was chopped liver.

It’s not like she’d just assumed either, she’d asked everyone she could think of. It was a resounding ‘No’ from all parties. Once her entire mental checklist was ticked off, Lenora cut the rest of her classes for the day and drove out to Old Bullworth Vale. She couldn’t quite place why she liked it so much, maybe because it was quiet. Lenora always thought better when she hung around Old Bullworth Vale, possibly because the locals regarded her with intense malign and scrutiny. It promoted self reflection in a twisted sort of way, much like an arsonist promotes warmth by setting a house on fire, treasured family memories still inside. Presently, Bullworth was in that strange sort of limbo between spring and summer, the weather was still cool, but things were starting to look brighter, livelier, around the town. Everything was flourishing… apart from Lenora, who seemed to have shrivelled into herself, like a snail brave enough to pass through a ring of salt or a houseplant that an adventurous plant-mother bought, and promplty forgot about. It was such a stupid thing to get her heart broken over, a school dance; and yet here she was, sat on the splintering wood of Old Bullworth Vale’s dock, her running shoes and gym socks off and placed to one side, her feet plunged into the cool water of the harbour, letting it lap at her ankles like an excited terrier, like one of the dogs she had waiting for her at home… sulking. Like a child that had been denied a toy. Her heart ached and throbbed in her chest, call it karmic justice for acting like such a playboy, but she sure as hell wasn’t feeling happy about getting dumped by the guys she thought were her friends.

The boards groaned under the weight of another person, their footsteps light and tentative despite what the noises of the protesting wood would have you believe. There was a weight and a warmth beside her, a rich scent of warm wood, amber, and freshly printed money. It was Parker by her side. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he came to find her, she bailed on their Friday afternoon coffee, they’d been doing that every week for close to two years; and she wasn’t exactly incognito, her hair gave her away instantly. A wild mane of blonde ringlets, that seemed to settle around her face like a halo drawn by a monk with a nasty tremor. “Hey” he hummed, his voice held its usual sunny lilt but it also contained a modicum of concern, as did his face, lightly twisted into a mask of confusion “Hey Park” she responded, an unnaturally low tone to her voice giving her away “You okay? You look a little blotchy” “Hm? What, yeah I’m fine… I got that- that hay fever” he nodded, letting out a low hum to show his approval. “Yeah, I hear it’s going around. Tissue?” “Sure.. thank you” Lenora wiped her face off with the tissue, trying to stop the flow of tears before Parker saw. “So what’s really going on” he hummed, quirking a brow, his brown eyes fixed on her hazel ones “I told you man, it’s hay fever, seriously” “Lenora come on… a problem shared is a problem halved, so spill the beans” Lenora shook her head, it was so trivial she couldn’t even tell Parker. God she really was losing her edge. “Parks, c’mon. It’s nothing” “Lenora Harker I will push you in this water if you don’t tell me” Lenora shook her head again, it’s all she could really do. God how she needed a cigarette, or a toke… or a shotgun slug to the forehead. “You’re gonna laugh at me” Parker sighed, Lenora was a good friend to have but when she was difficult, she was bloody difficult. “I’m not… going to laugh at you” “Yes you are! It’s so stupid… look, okay…” she passed her hands over her face, despite all her attempts to wipe off the snot and tears didn’t work, a thin stream glittered beneath her nose. She pawed at it with the back of her hand, trying to look presentable “It’s prom, okay? No one…” she swallowed thickly, trying hard to keep her voice steady “No one asked me to prom”

Parker leaned back on his hands, admittedly, it was actually a little stupid but he didn’t have the heart to tell her that, he was raised to treat ladies with utmost respect. It was the first time he’d ever seen Lenora so fragile, so open. If he pushed her too far she might snap shut again. The wood groaned as his weight shifted “I’ll take you” his voice while still sunny, was also full of determination. If there was one thing being a prep had taught him: You don’t back down, you don’t surrender. You push until the other party relents and accepts the deal. Lenora pulled her feet out of the water and looked at him with surprise, her eyebrows shooting up until they reached her hairline, before dropping into a furrow, like one of those silly pauper rides at the carnival. “What? No. Parker you’ve got that- that thing I can’t make you skip that” “What, the cotillion? It’s the same every year. I don’t need to go again” Lenora tucked her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on her kneecaps. It was a little painful, she had a zit on the underside of her jaw “Won’t they be mad at you?” “Sure, for a while. But they’ll soon forget once they’ve had enough to drink”. The preps were simple creatures, all could be forgotten with enough vintage port, Parker knew that better than anyone. Lenora felt her heart tighten in her chest. It was such a noble gesture, but she couldn’t make him abandon his friends just because hers abandoned her “Park, it’s not that serious, I just… I won’t go, okay? I’ll wait until the afterparty. You don’t have to do this” Parker set his jaw, his eyes narrowing into slits, he felt a little bit like Clint Eastwood in one of those old westerns; but instead of trying to best Lenora in a shootout, he was trying to make her stubborn ass change her mind “You’d do it for me, right?” “I…” she was almost too stunned to speak, all the crying definitely didn’t help her. Her mouth was dry, her eyes were wet and she just really really wanted to go home. “Yeah…. I guess I would” her eyes broke from his for a second to look down at their shoes. Well… his shoes and her lack thereof admiring the leather of his loafers. Likely Italian and likely more expensive than her entire existence. Parker straightened up as things started to go his way “That’s what friends are Lenora, equals. I’m not doing this for me… I’m doing it for you, because we’re friends. Because we’re equals, okay?” “Ok.” “Okay… now put your shoes on”

Lenora looked at her feet, still soaking wet from her little sulky paddle, and then to her socks. Wet feet and dry socks seemed like as bad of a combination as Jeffery Epstein being a keynote speaker at an elementary school graduation. In a purely mindless action she twisted her leg up to rub her foot dry on her track uniform “Eugh” “What?” “I’ll wait for you at the end of the dock, okay?” “What? What?!” she continued to call, not fully grasping Parker’s disgust, her head following his form as it rose from its sitting position beside her, to a standing one, to one in motion, treading the boards of the dock with practised ease. Eventually, her feet were dry enough for her to put her shoes back on and the pair of them walked up the steps off of the beach and onto the street. Lenora wiped her eyes again and looked to Parker “Where are we headed?” “Don’t worry about it, you’ll like it” Lenora scrunched up her face, sometimes she highly doubted Parker’s judgement, especially after having dinner at Harrington House… she’d never forget that poor pig’s expression. What a waste of a good apple. “You said I’d like caviar and it tasted like the floor of a tuna factory” Parker cringed at her severe lack of a refined palate but held his tongue, she kind of had a point.

They walked up and away from the dock, chatting idly about the latest happenings in their respective cliques. Lenora liked to know what sort of petty things Parker’s friends were bickering about, talk of fistfights over cutlery and severed friendships due to shirt colour made her giggle. Parker just liked to know how the other half lived, he managed to pry stories of bar fights, roller derby fights and fights with potential girlfriends out of Lenora with relative ease, and it was safe to say he enjoyed hearing her perspective on things around Bullworth, Parker didn’t like the rose-tinted aquaberry glasses he’d been sailing through life with. He needed a poorer perspective. A real perspective. “Hey, has Justin been weird with you recently?” he queried, looking over at her with concern. Lenora pulled a face “Define weird” “Like… clingy. Needy ""I mean he offered to help me carry my books… oh my god” her face fell, she really sincerely thought another Prep had wanted to be her friend “He was USING ME?!” “Lenora it’s not like that. Justin he just… he likes you guys, he wants to BE with you guys. He just has a funny way of showing he cares” “Man, go figure, I thought he was all up in Ted’s business.” Lenora wasn’t sure if she’d said something she shouldn’t but after seeing those two getting into some heavy petting in broad daylight, she thought it was fair game “He’s a cool dude, even if he ate all the nut roast last time I came over so I had to sit there and eat spinach for dinner” Parker cringed again, remembering just how sad Lenora had looked as she pushed a heap of sautéed spinach around her plate “Yeah, sorry about that. I did tell them your diet was…. restrictive but clearly they didn’t listen to me”

Eventually, they reached the point of no return, the entrance to Aquaberry. The neon sign captivated Lenora for a good long while. She stood, completely awestruck by its swooping lettering and green glow of the neon inside. She wondered how much it cost to make and light and, considering the temperament of some Bullworth residents… replace. Parker clapped her on the shoulder to stun her out of her daze “I have something I need to take care of, you go in and get yourself comfortable” Lenora looked at him like she’d just been asked to teach a dog Portuguese “What, me? Unattended?” she asked, looking behind at the Outlet and then back towards Parker “Yes, you’ll be alright.” she paused, looked at her outfit. Carefully examining the highly worn fabric of her track uniform, the taped soles of her running shoes and the general unkempt nature of her bare skin: grass stains, cuts, bruises. “Just go in, tell them you’re a friend of the Ogilvie's, they'll warm up, I promise. They’re not bad people they’re just….. wary” Parker’s expression softened and he ushered her in.

Lenora looked around, utterly dazed. She was too afraid to breathe in case she damaged something and had to pay for it. God knew she could barely afford an aquaberry sock let alone anything else. The steward on the door narrowed her eyes at Lenora, who widened hers and smiled in an attempt to look less criminal. It didn’t quite work, and the woman reached for her walkie talkie “Wait wait wait nononono I’m a friend of Parker’s…. Parker Ogilvie?” the steward’s eyes narrowed even further “And where exactly is young Mr Ogilvie?” Her tone carried an intense sense of superiority, despite the fact she was an employee and not a patron. “He’s doing something, honestly, I would never dream of stealing. I’m a good girl, really” “I’m going to put you behind the register… if he doesn’t show up in ten minutes. You’re banned”

Meanwhile, Parker had wandered down to a local craft store and was sifting through the many hundreds of poster paints they had on offer. He already had some poster board tucked underneath his arm and was deciding if glitter paint, or paint and glitter glue would look the best for a staged prom-posal. Eventually, he decided to get all three and some loose glitter and diamantes too. He wanted it to be extravagant and gaudy, Parker couldn’t half ass it. Lenora was counting on him to show up and show out, and admittedly he had been looking for an excuse to give her crappy friends what for. At the register, he artfully dodged questions from the cashier about the nature of his project when he received a string of texts from Lenora, he had a special text tone just for her, not that he’d ever tell her ‘PARKR HALP PLZ’ ‘THEY HAZ ME TRAPPED’ ‘PARKER PLZ HALP THEY R GONNA GET MEH’ He laughed at her stupid typing, but then managed to decode her message. His eyes widened and he snapped his phone shut “Keep the change, thank you have a good day!” he called as he was already out of the door. The cashier looked down at the note in his hands, utterly dumbfounded “This is a hundred…. it was seven bucks”

He was quick to approach Aquaberry, taking the time to preen himself in the window before he stormed in. The clerk scuttled over, all smiles. It wasn’t all that convincing; she looked palpably nervous “Mr Ogilvie, what can we do for you today?” “Well, you can start by releasing my friend” “Hm? Oh” she turned back to Lenora with a disgruntled expression, Lenora waved politely to Parker who was struggling to hold his stern expression. The woman allowed Lenora to go free, and she took her time strolling over to Parker. Hands in her pockets and a smug smile on her lips. “And might I just say how incredibly disgusted I am with your decorum. I have half a mind to take our business elsewhere” Parker stiffened, doing his best impression of Gord when he had one of his shopping tantrums. The woman’s face turned red and she seemed to droop a little, thoroughly embarrassed. “What is your name?” he snapped, knowing full well that he could just read her name tag “Uh… Lillian” “Well Lillian, expect a strongly worded letter from my father in the coming days… I suggest you begin making copies of your resume. I hear that burger place is hiring” He gave her the coldest glare he could muster and folded his arms “Now, we are going to have a private dress fitting and you are going to get someone else to relieve you of your duties of you will lose my family’s patronage. For good.”

Parker stormed off and Lenora followed, matching his stride as they walked towards a private dressing room. She leaned into his ear “Hey nice freak out man, was that off the dome?” “Nooooo, I’ve had that planned for months. It just seemed so fun” “So your dad’s not really gonna send a letter?” “Oh no he absolutely is. For fun if nothing else, he’ll humour me” “…Dope”. Parker opened the door to the dressing room and allowed her to step in, ever the gentleman, Lenora did a weird janky curtsy and took a seat on one of the resplendent teal couches. She pulled a rather large string of pearls out of her pocket, admiring the way they shone in the sickly white light of the room. “Where did you get that?” “What? It was just out, I thought I could grab one… for like, compensation” Parker wanted to be angry, but that was just Lenora. He couldn’t change that. “Okay, does it have a price tag?” “Uhhhhm” Lenora surveyed the necklace, looking for a price. Eventually she found one, showing it to Parker “Hey are these commas or decimals” Parker squinted “Commas. ” “30…. oh my god $30,000 take it off me. I should NOT be holding this. Take it off me now” Parker worked quickly, snatching the pearls out of Lenora’s hands and she lay back on the couch, still reeling. “I have to pee” Parker snorted at her sudden change of topic “Okay, do you know where the bathrooms are?” “There’s a big sign that says Laboratory, isn’t not that is it?” he snorted again, trying really hard to not outright laugh at her “Lenora” “Hm?” she asked, raising herself up off the couch “Lavatory. It means bathroom” “Whatever… same thing”

Parker was greeted by another attendant soon enough, and he shared with him Lenora’s dress size and his general understanding of her colour palette. The worker simply nodded and scurried off to make some selections for him. Lenora struggled with the automatic flushes and which fancy soap bottle was actually soap and not lotion. Rich people must have been confused all the time. Maybe they enjoyed it. Upon exiting the bathroom, she was greeted by a sullen looking Lillian who placed a flute of champagne in her hand. Lenora downed it and barrelled back into the dressing room, excited as ever “Hey you were right, I DO like this place. The creepy door lady just handed me champagne” Parker gestured for her to stand on the little pedestal in the centre of the room “Hey, just don’t have so much of that okay, don’t get drunk and buy an ugly dress”

They cycled through a good number of dresses, and it was usually Parker who turned them down. Lenora wasn’t used to seeing herself all dolled up, it felt alien. It felt wrong.The new attendant had tried her in every colour he could think of: Dark blue, navy blue, ultramarine, baby blue, sap green, sage, salmon pink, lemon yellow, burnt umber, baby pink. The list went on and on and always, it seemed, something was fundamentally wrong with the dress. Exasperated, he went into the archives and pulled out something more delicate, something that had been reserved in the 90’s and abandoned. Plum coloured, spaghetti strapped, a black mesh overlay, delicately beaded to create an intricate ivy design. It was his last resort. Lenora pulled it on, trying her best not to damage it. She could see the way he glared at her tattooed skin, and so tried to clothe herself quickly. He handed her a pair of shoes and sent her out to Parker. He was on the phone to Bryce, trying to convince him to play messenger and let Derby know he couldn’t come to the Prep Meeting that evening, he did a double take and quickly snapped his phone shut. Hanging up without a goodbye “Wow” he hummed, watching how the beads glittered in the light as she twisted to look at herself in the dress “It’s weird isn’t it… ugh” she did another twirl, smoothing her hands down her sides “I hate that I don’t hate it” Parker saw the apprehension on her face, and did his best to try and conquer it “It looks like it was made for we you, it’d be wrong of me to say that it wasn’t perfect.” Lenora paused, she stood stock still in the mirror, talking in her figure. She tried to remember the last time she’d worn a dress, a nice dress. Sometimes if it was free entry for girls at the club she’d put on a shitty, tight and altogether too revealing mini dress or something like that, she found the more leg she exposed, the less the bouncers cared that her ID was fake.

The last time she’d worn a dress like this had been when she was about 13. She had gone to a daddy daughter dance, it was the first and only time she’d seen her father in full military dress uniform and the last time she’d seen him smile. Remembering him, his grizzled face curled up into a grin, the low growl of his voice as he complimented her appearance, the hours he’d spent polishing his medals, it choked her up because now… he was half the world away in Iraq. “I look like… like a girl” she hummed, giving herself a final once over.

With the dress fitting all squared away, Parker paid in cash for the dress and Lenora drove them back to school. They sat back to back for the remainder of the evening, drawing up Parker’s prom-posal poster. Decking it out in so much glitter it was basically a flashbang. Holding it up for one final inspection,Lenora slid her sunglasses over her eyes in one fluid motion, this told Parker it was perfectly garish enough. He set it to dry and snuck her out of the building just as he had snuck her in. Tomorrow afternoon, he’d pull out all the stops on the football field and really make a statement to her two timing jock friends, he’d just have to endure a weekend of agony, waiting to pull his big showstopper… he had to make several calls.

Monday morning came and went, Lenora had slept in and missed most of her pre-lunch classes. She got her pitiful, slimy vegetarian lunch as usual and then retreated to the football field, as per usual, texting Parker to let him know their plan was a-go. She hummed a greeting to Kirby as he took a seat beside her on the bleachers “Hey we’re cool right?” “What?” “Like you’re not mad we don’t wanna go to prom with you?” he leaned a little into her, trying to read her face “What? No, I'm fine. It’s fine” “You missed the clique meeting last night” he hummed, stuffing what was supposed to be a meatball in his mouth “That was last night? Jeez I’m really sorry, I thought it was today” “Jeez? Really? Are you a prep or something man, just say fuck like the rest of us” she scrunched up her nose a little bit “I’m trying to cut down on the swearing… it makes us sound uneducated” Kirby snorted and went back to eating his lunch. Lenora was acting crazy weird, but it was likely she was just sober and bummed out. Kirby considered Lenora a good friend, but not good enough to rob him of some action at prom. She understood.

As if on cue to break up the weird tension, Parker appeared with a boombox on his shoulder, heart shaped sunglasses over his eyes, tailed by two large men in suits. Out of the boombox began to rattle the sultry sounds of Aerosmith. A band he'd never heard in his entire life. He placed it onto the grass and whipped out a megaphone from behind his back and began to sing, in key but it was clear he’d only barely learned the lyrics. The speaker was hardly good quality, so his voice was crackly as well as loud. “DONT WANNA CLOOOSE MY EYES, I DONT WANNA FAALLL ASLEEP, CUZ I MISS YOU BABE, AND I DONT WANNA MISS A THIIING”

Lenora put her hands over her face, to her confused meathead friends she just looked bashful, but underneath, she was giggling like a lunatic. He pulled the sign from his back as the instrumental soared, and Lenora was really losing composure. Then as a small crowd gathered, Parker’s large assistants released at least 200 beautiful turtle doves into the air. Lenora scuttled down the steps of the bleachers to partly to wrap Parker in a tight embrace, but also to avoid the hail of bird droppings pelting the football field “Oh Parker,” she sighed, lifting him off the floor to spin him around “You committed social suicide for me… thank you” “Oh don’t thank me, thank my father. He paid for the birds” “You got a little….” Lenora pulled back and giggled, noticing a small white streak in his usually jet black hair “Yes yes I know, I’m trying to ignore it” “Okay buddy, coffee?” “Sure” The pair strolled off, meanwhile the spectating jocks now found themselves fighting for their lives against a sea of very agitated doves “AW SICK! THAT PIGEON IS GONNA GET SOME SERIOUS POUNDCAKE” Lenora looked back over her shoulder to a very angry, very bird poop soaked Kirby “… we should leave” “Yes, yes we should”

Days turned into weeks and then in the blink of a lazy writer’s eye, prom night was upon Bullworth like a blanket over a misbehaving parrot’s cage, or some rare disease that makes students of all kinds raid cosmetics stores and costume jewellery sellers’ stalls like looters in the midst of an apocalypse. Parker invited Lenora into Harrington house freely, knowing full well that his friends were at each others’ throats about the cuts of their tuxedos and the fabric of their pocket squares. Harrington house was as close to chaos as it would ever come, Bif was not manning the door like usual, so she was free to waltz in, touch antiques and take silverware. Parker was yet to dress, he wouldn’t take long, he never did. He decided to get Lenora all set up with his expansive team of hair and makeup minions and get ready in his room. Lenora never wore makeup. Not because she didn’t want to, all the ladies she had crushes on had perfectly made up faces, she thought it looked so beautiful; but everything she needed to do her own makeup properly was too big to steal and too expensive to buy. She liked the feel of the brushes on her face. Sometimes when her mother wasn’t home as a very small child she used to run them over her skin to enjoy the sensation. “What do I ask them for?” “Don’t worry, I’ve already briefed them. Just sit and look pretty, okay?”

Downstairs, chaos reigned. It sounded like alley cats fighting over scraps of a discarded sandwich. Lenora swore she could hear vases breaking. She didn’t even know that jackets had different cuts, in her eyes she thought a suit was just a suit. Plain and simple: you get your little shirt, your jacket with big shoulder pads, your slacks and your little tap dancing shoes on, she also knew sometimes if you were feeling really fancy you’d put a tie on, so that when you got drunk you could tie it around your head and pretend to be Rambo. The hair ladies were ruthless, wetting and yanking at the knots in the mess of Lenora’s curls, slathering on about 50 sweet smelling products, twisting, pulling and pinning so close to her scalp she swore the bobby pins were scraping her skull. They didn’t hand her a mirror, but simply switched places with the loitering makeup artists, much like the football team swapped out their offensive players for their defensive counterparts. The makeup girls were significantly kinder but not altogether gentle. They talked her through what needed to be done, and what to do. Blink when they applied her mascara, suck her cheeks in like a fish when they applied her blush, pucker really hard when applying her lipstick. Eventually, they stepped back and handed her a mirror. Once she got over the absurdity of her hair all twisted up like a pineapple and a tiara of assuredly real precious gems slid into the cleft of it, the majesty of the beaded dress, neatly protected by a cape for a good amount of the makeup process and the half tonne of clown paint on her face she found that she looked rather… pretty.. Like a princess. Like a real girl.

Parker had walked into the room part way through Lenora’s base makeup having gotten bored reorganising some of the photos in files on his computer, and watched her talk so easily to his assistants. Chatting like she’d known them for years. Eventually, he crept up behind her and she, naturally, reacted with violence. After barely avoiding a mirror swing, Parker tilted Lenora’s chin up so she was looking at him. Her lashes fluttered over her cheeks for a second “You look like a penguin” she giggled, admiring his black and white suit, with little pops of purple just like her dress. He made a weird face and she rushed to rectify her blunder “That’s a compliment, I promise. Penguins are great, I love penguins” Parker released a burst of air through his nose, trying to keep a snort from leaving. it instead “Thanks” he hummed, not letting his hand leave her face “Yknow if I was straight I’d have a fat crush on you, those girls are missing out” “And don’t I know it… can I interest you in a corsage” “Indeed you can, thank you” He fiddled with it, getting it nicely on her wrist. The flowers were gorgeous, neatly arranged and all the most gorgeous shade of deep purple. He placed his matching boutonnière in her hand and proudly presented his chest for her to pin.

Lenora reached her hands up to smooth Parker’s collar. Slim, nimble digits smoothed out the small creases and divots in the fabric, and trailed down to his lapel where she pinned his boutonnière “You’re gonna make some girl very happy someday, Ogilvie” She said with a voice dripping in fondness, and a smile on her lips. He looked up at her with a wry smile, placing his smaller hands on top of hers on his lapel “Hey…. I already have” Lenora tried hard not to weep “Hey, don’t cry, I spent good money on that makeup, stop it” Parker chided playfully, using his thumb to gently wipe a tear that had betrayed her. Large and fat and glistening like a pearl in the dim light of the rising moon. “Sorry, sorry… thank you Parker” he smiled reassuringly “Hey, don’t be sorry for being my friend, It’s my honour and…” he checked his watch before offering his arm to Lenora, much taller than usual in her designer heels “Your carriage awaits, milady” “Milord” she replied, dabbing her eyes gently before the pair of them retreated from Harrington house to tear up the dance floor.

[rebeccalouisaferguson]

"When we called him and said, ‘Hey, do you want to play this part?’ he was real excited about it, and he was like, ‘Oh yeah, I'm gonna… I have a great idea. This is going to be really scary.’ And I was like, ‘Okay, sure.’ And we all showed up full of swagger. It was like, yeah, ‘We're just gonna roll. We're gonna have somebody down there flicking the blood, because we want a little bit of splash on his chin.’ Not what you guys saw. That was a little more than we thought would happen. And Rebecca, who’s pretty fearless, was full of attitude. And when she met Jacob – he had been doing another movie, so we never rehearsed with him. I would talk to his father and he's like, ‘We're rehearsing ourselves. And it's really good. It's really good. It's really upsetting.’

He's the sweetest, most charming kid you'll ever meet. Rebecca was even, ‘Oh, get ready, Jacob! We're going to mess you up! Oh, True Knot, we're coming to get him.’ That whole group of actors, they're the bad guys. They get to strut around on set in cool costumes and say cool stuff. So they showed up to it just cocky. We started with Jacob. When we rehearsed, we didn't put any emotion into it. I was like, ‘Jacob, don't scream. We're just going to walk through it mechanically, so you don't get traumatized. We'll save it.’ … We started on him. We started on his frontal and his profile, which were running simultaneously. He's like, ‘No, I got this.’ I was like, ‘Do you want to do a dry run? You want to do anything with it?’ He said, ‘Nope, I'm good.’ And we all went to the monitor.

Rebecca gets all into character and everybody's ready. And [Jacob’s] dad leans over to me and he's like, ‘You have no idea what you're in for.’ He was kind of smirking. And I was like, ‘Okay, like, we know this is going to be a disturbing scene. It's gonna be fine, though.’ He's just smirking. He knows what's coming. We don't know. And, the general idea was, stuff's always worse in the movie than it is on the set. Like on set, the stuff tends to be fun and silly. And Jacob just lets loose. And it's what you see in the movie. He's just screaming and begging, and he’s ad-libbing, you know? He's just throwing in, ‘Please.’ And Rebecca can't get her lines out. He's just screaming over, and he's crying. And Rebecca comes in like, ‘Uh, yeah, this, this is, this is going to hurt, because fear purifies steam.’ And then she starts crying. And we’re in the van. At the time we had all the monitors in this ride, we're all in there, just staring at it, horrified. We get through to the end of the take. I’m too shocked to call cut. He's just dead. He died, and we’re all just staring at it. And I looked over to [producer] Trevor Macy and I was like, ‘What have we done?’

And Jacob's dad is just grinning. So Jacob hops up off the ground. Just, popped. There’s blood all over him. Half the crew is gone. Like, they have abandoned their posts. So during the shot, grips and electricians and stuff were like, ‘Nope.’ And they just walked away. … Jacob hopped up and his dad kind of smirked at him and they, I'll never forget it. He hopped up, walked past his dad, and they high five. His dad just put his hands up to high five, Jacob walked over to crafty to eat candy, but we were all like crying and fucked up.

[On the day he turned 12, Jacob Tremblay had to act out everyone’s worst fear: dying.] We brought out a birthday cake after [the scene]. This is all true. We had a cake that was made in the shape of the baseball jersey with the number 19. It was red velvet cake. So when you cut it up, it was red inside. And we brought that out and sang to him. It was before we saw what he was going to do, and we were all feeling really just, ‘It’s just another day.’ But then we saw what he did, and we all felt awful. We brought it out. We had cake. We sang. He's covered with blood. There are hilarious pictures of him and he’s just [with a thumbs up] with the cake and the blood. And then he just laughed and said good night. You know, ‘That was so fun everybody, bye!’ And he left and the cast recovered.

[Ewan McGregor and Cliff Curtis didn’t share a scene with Jacob Tremblay, so they weren’t on set for the murder. They showed up after, genuinely curious how things had gone.] We're all still shaking [when they show up]. Rebecca Ferguson just doesn't want to talk about it. And Ewan’s like, ‘How’d it go with the kid?’ And she’s like, ‘I don’t even want to talk about it.’ She did all of her stuff – all the shots of her when she talks to him, when he's like, ‘Is this going to hurt?’ And she's like, ‘Yessss!’ And like all the roaring in his face and stuff… he was gone. We did that after Jacob left set. She couldn't look him in the eye and do that" - Mike Flanagan on how Basball Boy scene was filmed (ReelBlend podcast)

[trikeyaredilfs]

I’ve had to wait so long to reveal, but I was @mesetikpng ‘s Secret Santa for @gtafest I hope you enjoy this, as it took a few tries to get this the way I wanted it!

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Michael’s car nearly slid down the road as he slammed his brakes. If he was somewhere dying, fine. But this lanky prick had been dodging his calls for some sleazy, run down, overglorified glory hole?

He cuts the wheel hard, pulling into the pothole ridden parking lot, right next to that red rust- ridden eyesore of a truck. Michael slams the car into park and gets out of the car, fuming.

The bouncer can’t even get a word out before Michael storms past him. Shoving through the too-narrow hallway to get into the club. His boots stick to the floor as soon as he crosses the threshold of the swinging door.

Michael grimaces, the ‘girls’ in here were old enough to be his mother. For a club, the place was dead. Nearly half of those there were only there because they were working. Even the dancers hung lazily around the stage, gossiping amongst each other. But nowhere could he spot the lanky Canadian.

No stained white tee, no oil ridden flannel, not one of Trevor’s tasteless outfits anywhere. Figures. That man was likely in the ‘VIP’ lounge that doubled as a broom closet getting a private session with the oldest woman he could find in here.

Fine, then Michael would just wait for him. Catch him in the act and rip him up one side and down the other. Did Trevor know how much gas he’d just wasted searching down practically every last dirt and gravel side road in North Yankton? All because this idiot couldn’t answer the cell phone that Lester even provided him with?

He knew where that phone was if he wanted to talk to Brad. He’d witnessed it first hand. Made him want to wring Trevor’s neck, Michael was business. Michael was more important than that stupid blonde’s God awful jokes.

Michael’s blood pressure was going to go through the roof at this rate. He made his way over to the vastly understocked bar, the bartender seeming surprised to be serving someone beside the dancers.

“I just want a Pisswasser, put it on Phillip’s tab.”

The bartender eyed Michael, but only shrugged.

Michael watched the man pull the bottle from a box on the floor, of course. Why would it be cold? He thought to himself taking the semi-cold bottle and popping the top off with the edge of the counter, slipping the cap into his pocket as he made his way to the stage.

At least he’d be able to watch one of the shows as he waited. The woman just in front of him had long slender legs, covered by thin, black tights. As his eyes moved up her body, he noticed how thin she was. How you could see every muscle flex beneath her skin, a sheen of sweat that almost glittered with the spotlight. Beneath a soft, floral green dress and a fluffy, pink boa. Black hair that fell over her shoulders and large golden hoops that swayed with her movement.

She was…beautiful. Michael had never seen her here before, but the way she moved to the music was mesmerizing. For a moment, he’d forgotten how pissed he was with Trevor. He’d just flat out forgotten what he’d been here for.

Her hands reach for the boa, teasingly pulling it away from her chest, rose red nails that matched her lipstick, Michael stared as he slowly began to remove the boa, revealing her slender neck beneath that read ‘cut here’ with a dotted line.

“Cut here’ with a dotted line.’

The realization hits Michael like a ton of bricks. The woman he’d just been ogling for the last 5 minutes was Trevor.

“T?” He says in a loud whisper.

The woman’s eyes widen as she locks onto Michael, that confirmed it.

The feelings that were mixing in Michael’s gut right now were some of the most profoundly confusing feelings he’d ever had.

Their awkward eye contact didn’t break, they only sat and stared at one another . Trevor seeming to almost forget that he was on stage.

How the hell did some hick like Trevor become such a beautiful and almost elegant woman? Had Trevor done this before? Would Michael have noticed if he was drunk?

No, it was Trevor! The feelings weren’t like that, were they? No. It was just the beer. It was just the alcohol in his system. But he could not take his eyes off the woman in front of him.

[exouniverse]

Band’s Cut

Pairing: jaehyeong x gn reader

Genre: fluff, birthday fic

Warnings: none, but if any please tell me and I’ll add it.

Summary: The Rose members have seen the subtle sparks flying between Jaehyeong and his acting classmate, but their slow-burn romance only drives them to meddle further and play matchmaker. Will a chance for a confession finally arise at the surprise birthday party that they’ve planned?

Word count: 5.1K+

A/N: I haven’t seen much of The Rose fanfic around, so I hope this reaches as many Black Roses as it can. Also, I have come to accept that the birthday fics will no longer have a limit of words… they simply flow so easily each time that they become longer and longer. Perhaps some will be short, but that will depend on the premise. So, I hope you like this! Happy birthday Jaehyeong!

A little fun fact, “Band’s Cut” refers to the “Director’s Cut” version of a film, but in this case is the members version of how the romance happened (or more like how they “made it happen.”)

Banner template by @kithsune/@cafekitsune

MASTERLIST | MOODBOARD

The members gathered around Woosung's laptop with coffee and water in hand, about to embark on hours of reviewing audition tapes after their casting director's preliminary cuts.

As Woosung hit play on the first file, they settled in for a video marathon. Dojoon diligently took notes on the potential candidates, carefully analyzing their skills and talents. Meanwhile, Hajoon closely observed the performance nuances, paying attention to the finer details.

The casting director did an excellent job selecting the finest dancers, evident from their clean lines and exceptional technique. The actors showcased remarkable skills in delivering emotions and portraying mannerisms. Some triple-threat performers showed great promise and made it onto the list. However, none of them had managed to captivate all the members with an overwhelming sense of fascination.

Jaehyeong doodled absently, almost lost in the poodle dog playing with a ball that he drew in the corner of his notes. It was the first word you spoke that made him look back up at the laptop, the words melting in his ears.

The members were deeply moved by every gesture and glance throughout your audition. Every minute of your performance left a lasting impact, and even after it was over, the essence of your talent lingered in their minds, preventing them from even moving on to the next audition tape.

"Y/N, was it? Really connects to the heart of the song," Hajoon remarked in awe. Murmurs of agreement echoed among the members, making it clear that, despite having some more entries left to review, Y/N must be considered for the lead. But little did they know this match-up held promise beyond just professional prospects.

The dialogue was almost turning into doodles on the pages. Jaehyeong was having a hard time deciphering his lines for the scene they were studying in his acting class.

He sighed, putting his script down. The line caught in an endless loop within his mind, making him feel dizzy. Suddenly, a voice brought him down to earth. "Need any help with your lines?" you offered.

Jaehyeong looked at you, contemplating and mirroring your kind smile. "This part," he said, and pointed at Captain Wentworth's line, "‘half agony, half hope'...what do you think it means?"

You grabbed the script from his hand to analyze the dialogue. "For Wentworth, I think it's the fear of getting rejected once again after what happened with them in the past, but he's still holding onto a little hope in his momentary jump of faith to confess his feelings to Anne. It's all of the excitement and uncertainty tangled up."

When you looked up at him, he somehow looked even more confused. His eyes were locked on yours as if looking for a deeper answer, so you said, "in a more general sense... it's just how complex and contradictory love is. Like when your emotions for another person change from friendship to love. The agony will be in the fear of your feelings not being returned, while the hope will be in the possibility that that love will be reciprocated."

As Jaehyeong assimilated your perspective on Wentworth's complex emotions, your explanation resonated with him on a deeper level. A clarity emerged through your guidance, breaking the haze around the lines that now reflected his own awakening feelings. Up until now, he had thought his admiration for you was only due to your artistic abilities, but now he could understand Wentworth's words towards Anne.

Words were hard to find, so he hoped his gaze spoke for him, and he offered a complimentary smile as a thank you for your thorough description that shaped his performance as well as his newfound emotions.

Dojoon walked with Jaehyeong towards the dressing rooms to get ready for the music video shoot. They were just chatting about the last TikTok they posted when Dojoon noticed Jaehyeong was a little distracted. Following his gaze, Dojoon spotted you entering the hall accompanied by a group of staff members.

Smirking knowingly, Dojoon was aware of Jaehyeong's fondness for you. He had seen it ever since the call-back auditions, when the selection process for the lead and the ensemble dancers began. Among the three actors being considered, it was evident that Jaehyeong had a stronger bias towards you compared to the rest of the members. His smile would widen every time your name was mentioned. When the decision was made to cast you as the lead in their music video, Jaehyeong passionately advocated for you, leaving the rest of the team exchanging meaningful glances.

Dojoon nudged Jaehyeong playfully. "Look who can't take his eyes off our new lead."

Jaehyeong looked back at Dojoon as he smiled nervously. "What? Was I that obvious?"

The members, as it was too obvious, had managed to get a confession out of him that day after the selection was made. He told them all about you and how much he admired your talent. He truly enjoyed working with you on the class assignments.

Dojoon chuckled and whispered, "only if anyone was paying close attention, like me."

Both of them entered their dressing room. It was just the two of them, so Dojoon dared to say, "you should tell Y/N, about how you feel." He stopped as he checked his wardrobe, making Jaehyeong linger on his words.

"No pressure though," he offered with a kind smile. Dojoon suspected that you also had feelings for their maknae. You had been smiling too wide and giggling so much around Jaehyeong after the call-back auditions. Even more so when you two got some time to catch up and Jaehyeong introduced you to the band.

Hajoon entered before Jaehyeong could say anything, his cheeky smile giving away his thoughts. "Jeff, Jeff!" Hajoon shouted.

"Know who is here?" Woosung whispered excitedly as he came in behind Hajoon.

Dojoon smiled at them knowingly. Jaehyeong seemed like a mouse caught in a trap; his sweat around his eyebrows was evident. "Hajoon and Woosung!" Dojoon replied to Woosung's question as he gave them a warning look.

Woosung looked back at their lovely maknae and nodded. Hajoon mouthed an "oh" in understanding, acknowledging the unspoken sentiment.

Jaehyeong was pensive throughout their glam session for the shooting. He appreciated Dojoon's encouragement; he really could've said something long ago, but the moment he found out about his feelings slipped away too quickly, and his hectic schedule distracted him too much. It also felt too weird to say it during class or now at the shooting of their music video since they haven't had much time out of those restricted spaces.

The whole crew planned to gather after everyone was ready for the first scenes to start off the shoot with the best energy. As soon as you saw Jaehyeong coming out of his dressing room, you approached to greet him, "Jaehyeong-ah! Thought I missed you, but it's nice to see you before we start."

Jaehyeong eased up into a bright smile when he saw you. "Y/N! I'm so glad to have you around for this music video; you're the best."

You could've missed it, but you caught a glimpse of the rest of the band rushing to get back inside their dressing room. You were a little confused but decided to ignore it and continue to chat with Jaehyeong. "You are great yourself. Wanna go to set together? Are you waiting for the members?"

Jaehyeong clearly heard Woosung's giggle and Hajoon whispering "go." He smiled at you, trying to contain his own laugh at his hyung's antics. "We can go together; they are too slow, too slow," he joked, scrunching his nose, and walked along with you as you two chuckled.

The members giggled silently once the two of you had left. Dojoon looked at his friends, already plotting something cheeky in his mind.

"Do you guys think he will say something today or tomorrow?" Dojoon asked them.

"I hope so! They're so cute and so into each other," Woosung expressed.

"Jaehyeong has been overthinking this too much; he must," Hajoon agreed. "However, he's always moving at the beat of his own drum, so perhaps he will take some more time."

"Okay, drummer cliché, don't turn the mood down," Dojoon joked. "But you're right..." he admitted.

Woosung nodded and shared, "I heard Jaehyeong say he wishes he could hang out with Y/N more. That they have barely seen each other outside of class."

They took a moment to consider a way to help their maknae, but their manager came looking for them as they were supposed to be at the set long ago.

The three of them arrived fashionably late, thankfully while some staff crew were still settling equipment for the scenes, so they were not noticed by everyone. Especially Jaehyeong and you, who were caught up in a seemingly smooth conversation as you laughed at whatever Jaehyeong was saying.

"Oh oh oh, look at Y/N's hand!" Dojoon emphasized as you placed your hand on Jaehyeong's while laughing with him.

"Jaehyeongie!" Woosung exclaimed.

"He probably doesn't need much of our help," Hajoon commented.

The music video shoot went incredibly well, with everything flowing smoothly. As the day came to a close, Woosung extended an invitation for the cast to join the band for some drinks. Everyone appreciated the opportunity to unwind and cherish the quality time spent together, further strengthening their bonds.

The following day of shooting unfolded much like the previous one, with Jaehyeong still hesitant to confess his feelings. The other members opted not to intervene too much, instead choosing to support Jaehyeong whenever possible. They offered advice and encouragement whenever they sensed the need. Jaehyeong's hyung cheering crew discreetly arranged situations for the two of them to spend more time together. Nevertheless, it seemed that Jaehyeong was taking his time quite slowly.

After the celebration with the entire crew, the members gathered to discuss their observations and analyze if there was anything else they could do to support Jaehyeong. They contemplated whether it was best to continue their efforts or step away completely, respecting Jaehyeong's pace.

"Guys, I think we've done enough," Hajoon remarked.

"Yeah, I think they're okay," Woosung echoed Hajoon's opinion.

Dojoon took a deep breath and dramatically set his coffee on the table. "No, they're not," he looked back at his friends and continued, "Jaehyeong said he wanted to spend more time out of work with Y/N. So far, everything has been about work—the music video, lunchtime, the after-work celebrations included. I don't think he's saying anything any time soon."

"Dojoon-ah, it's still not our place to meddle too much, though," Woosung pointed out.

"I know, I know..." he said, taking another sip of his coffee. "But, should we try one more thing?"

Woosung and Hajoon looked at him almost uninterested, only to entertain him a little bit more since it had been mostly him orchestrating the moments for Jaehyeong to confess his feelings. They wanted to help too; they had been excited to take part in the scheme, but seeing how Jaehyeong was taking his time made them think it was better to step away for a while. Contrary to Dojoon, who seemed even more committed to the cause, "one last try," Dojoon restated.

"Okay, what do you suggest?"

"Nothing too crazy, please!" Hajoon stepped in, limiting Woosung's encouragement.

"Let's invite Y/N to Jaehyeong's surprise birthday party next week!" He exclaimed, "that would be completely out of work. We give Jaehyeong a week to try to make a move if he wants to, but we still secure another moment together for them no matter if they end up coming as a couple or singles ready to mingle...between them, I—"

"Okay, we got it!" Hajoon interrupted.

"That's genius!" Woosung regained his enthusiasm. "I'm in! One more nosy try won't hurt."

"I knew you were going to agree!" Dojoon looked back at Hajoon, "Joon-ah! C'mon, get in, please," he begged.

Hajoon rolled his eyes before he said, "alright, one more try."

The final day of shooting was with a reduced cast since it was mostly the band and the lead who were supposed to film. The perfect setting for a little surprise invitation to a surprise birthday party.

Woosung managed to grab a moment with Jaehyeong gone from your side; it seemed almost impossible with time to separate the both of you. He casually made conversation about the music video and how incredible it was to have found you for it. He needed to be fast, though, before Jaehyeong came and heard about what they had been planning for his birthday for a month already.

"What's best is that you were already familiarized with our band, especially Jaehyeong, at your acting classes," Woosung said.

"That helped a lot!" You exclaimed, smiling widely. "When I saw the casting call, I immediately thought of Jaehyeong and did my best to get it since working with him is super fun. He's a great friend, so I knew it was definitely going to be so easy to navigate."

"Right, you're super close. You've been glued to each other this whole time," he threw in a little tease, "but it's cool to see our maknae happy having friends around that share such cool creative drives between them," he smoothly added.

You nodded. Woosung caught a little shyness in your gesture, so he continued, "hey! Actually, it's awesome that we got to know you properly. Jaehyeong talks about you a lot, and we wanted to contact you for a little surprise we're throwing for him for his birthday."

"Oh, really? I was actually thinking of calling him and inviting him for some treat or something, but that is even better."

Woosung had to contain his excitement hearing you talk so enthusiastically, confirming even more how into each other the two of you were. He succeeded; Dojoon's plan was taking off steadily.

"Awesome! I'll tell Dojoon to send you all of the details."

“Hey, Y/N!”

"Hey, Y/N!" You heard Jaehyeong call you from inside the class.

It took you a second to realize he had been calling you, but as you turned around, a smile graced your lips. You watched as he maneuvered through the small crowd that had formed around your classmates near the entrance, causing you to giggle. After apologizing to Haeyoung, the class assistant, for accidentally bumping into her, he finally reached you.

"I thought I missed you," he blurted, a little out of breath. "So, I was thinking, do you wanna go grab a coffee?"

His smile was contagious. "Sure! Coffee would be nice," you agreed as enthusiastically as you could.

"It seems it might rain; we could go to your favorite just a couple of blocks away from here."

You simply nodded in response and followed him. Jaehyeong was undoubtedly the top highlight of acting classes. When you first saw him in that initial class, you couldn't help but feel a bit starstruck. However, he quickly showed how down-to-earth and kind he was, quickly erasing any notion of him being a celebrity from your mind. If you were to describe him in a single word, it would be "comfort." Whenever your best friend was absent from class, it was Jaehyeong that you would always gravitate towards, or sometimes the both of you if Hanna was also present.

"Are you in the mood for something sweeter today? Or just your regular Americano?" Jaehyeong asked once you entered the coffee shop.

"Oh, uh..." he caught you a little off guard. "Something sweeter sounds good today," you agreed.

"Find us a spot; I'll go and order," he suggested, anticipating your protest as he often did when he planned to pay for everything. "Please, just let me," he quickly interjected, flashing a genuine smile, hoping you would agree and allow him to treat you to coffee.

"Okay, but you will let me pay next time."

"Yeah, maybe," he joked, effortlessly bringing out a small laugh from you.

You went to look for a good spot so you could enjoy your coffee calmly. There was a corner near the window where not many people were around, so you sat there to wait for Jaehyeong. He had been right. As you stared outside the window, you noticed the raindrops starting to fall. You contemplated the weather, trying not to think about anything.

"Nice spot!" You heard him say as he sat down in front of you. "It did rain! Am I a psychic?" he joked, looking at the rain and giving you your drink.

"That is sweet," you said, and suddenly realized you might not have just meant it to describe the drink he chose for you. His eyes were so sparkly and full of joy, making you laugh again. "Seems you know me quite well; this seems delicious, or you really are a psychic," you said as you raised your eyebrows playfully.

"I will look into auditions for psychics; it might just come natural."

You were not surprised at how easily he could make you laugh, but the blossoming affection within you piqued your curiosity once again. All of your emotions collapsing caused you to retreat inward, contemplating and reflecting on them more deeply.

You would normally be aware of your surroundings, as you swear by the "here and now" perspective, but it was becoming more evident that something was on your mind.

Jaehyeong tried to study your expression. "So you got an interesting scene for the assignment?" he asked casually.

It was only natural for him to ask such a question, but what he understandably failed to anticipate was the extent of your concern since you first read it. He did notice the way you sighed and gazed at your coffee, absentmindedly playing with the whipped cream on top.

"Is everything okay?"

You looked up at him; his eyes expressed so much concern, and you felt so comfortable that you even managed to pull off a small smile. "It's a tough one," you admitted. "I read it, and it just feels so real. I'm concerned about not being able to even start with it; I think I—I, uh..."

Jaehyeong allowed the silence to linger, giving you the space and time you needed. Finally, you spoke up again, expressing your worries, "I don't know how I will manage to separate my own feelings from the character's." You glanced back at your coffee. "Actor's problems, huh?" you added, trying to lighten the mood with your self-deprecating comment.

Jaehyeong chuckled softly and met your eyes. "No need for jokes; your feelings are valid." He considered his words, "that is definitely a challenge, but you have a gift for channeling emotions authentically while keeping yourself protected."

He pondered for a moment. "You can perhaps resort to a simple technique...breath in and out, stay calm so the tears flow naturally once you relax," he suggested, offering a potential solution for the challenging assignment you had to prepare for next class, where you had to cry on cue. "But you can always talk to the professor and see if he can change your scene. I'm sure he will understand. Your learning process doesn't have to come at the expense of your suffering."

You finally smiled truthfully; his understanding and advice moved you deeply. He really saw through you and realized how deeply it was affecting you.

"And you're not alone," he added, smiling back. "I'm here if you need someone to talk to; I'll listen and provide my psychic powers, no charge."

The way he brought out your most genuine laugh of the day spoke volumes. He was a special one, no doubt. You felt so grateful towards him, and just having him around felt like a blessing. The emotions were finally clear as you saw into his eyes, expressing your heartfelt gratitude. There was a deep care for him that made you feel excited and frightened all at the same time.

“Oh, hi Y/N!” Dojoon exclaimed with a smile as he saw you entering the venue. He walked over to greet you properly and led you to where Woosung and Hajoon were busy setting up some fairy lights. They greeted you as warmly as Dojoon had and happily welcomed your offer to help with the preparations for Jaehyeong’s surprise.

“Thank you for lending us a hand; Jaehyeong would love to know that,” Woosung said, winking playfully. It seemed he had caught you off guard; your nervous smile was the giveaway. He let it rest but exchanged a look with Hajoon, who was trying to hide a knowing smile from you.

It was getting more obvious as time went by just how much you were into each other. The members didn’t want to meddle much anymore, but they still had some tricks up their sleeves if they didn’t see much interaction. Just one final push.

More guests began to arrive once the early crew finished decorating, filling the venue with an air of excitement and joy as the hour drew near. Smiles adorned everyone's faces as they eagerly anticipated Jaehyeong's arrival, but it was a certain starry-eyed face that kept the members eager to witness their youngest member's reaction.

The plan was set in motion. Hajoon received Jaehyeong's message, expressing concern as he found no one around in the building. Hajoon quickly reassured him that he was in no trouble but urged him to hurry since the crew needed to begin filming the promotional video for the tour earlier than planned, mentioning a logistical issue with the venue—all of this a white lie concocted to ensure Jaehyeong arrived alone at his surprise birthday party.

Jaehyeong's face showed a whirlwind of emotions as he stepped through the door. The lights out momentarily masked his concern, but it flickered across his face for a brief moment before he comprehended the situation. The sudden burst of lights, music, and chants of birthday wishes took him completely by surprise.

A particular someone captured his gaze, and all that his face revealed was enchantment. The members nudged each other, beaming at Jaehyeong‘s perfect reaction to realizing you were here. The birthday party be damned—almost—this is what they lived for, just witnessing their maknae being truthfully happy.

The band energetically embraced Jaehyeong in a group hug, messing with his neatly styled hair that his style crew had meticulously managed to tame. He had already thought that his sort of laid-back outfit didn’t match the tidy hairstyle much, so he felt more comfortable as he let them ruffle his hair. If only he could have guessed it was just to make him think he had to be at least half ready to only change his outfit once he arrived at the promotional video set.

Jaehyeong’s smile remained on his lips as the members pulled back, filled with gratitude for his friends. But his eyes suddenly searched past them, landing on yours across the room as he heard the beats of his yearning heart echo inside his ears.

There you stood, smiling shyly. The party buzz faded into background noise as your gazes met and held. Before he could second-guess himself, Jaehyeong started walking towards you. His heart pounded faster as your smile grew, mirroring the hope in his own eyes.

Time seemed to pass slower than it really was, but as Jaehyeong reached you under the colorful lights, he softly spoke your name, bringing you back from your slow-motion imagination.

“Y/N, I’m so happy you’re here.”

You shook your head slightly as you scrunched your nose. “It’s not hard to show up for you. Your hair...” you said, noticing the disheveled locks that his friends had left. Gently giggling, you ran your fingers through his hair, fixing it back into place. Jaehyeong didn’t have much time to react since the crowd approached to congratulate him. You stayed behind, trying to slow your heartbeat as you greeted a couple of acquaintances.

The party started right away, with people taking Jaehyeong from one place to another. Dojoon kept an eye out between mingling, ensuring everyone felt included in the revelry. He noticed you and Jaehyeong gravitating naturally together amidst chaos, even stealing shy glances when thinking no one saw while you were not within the same group of people. Trusting the magic of moments, Dojoon gave you space, engaging others enthusiastically.

In a brief moment, he found Woosung awaiting karaoke's start. Woosung nodded discreetly towards the balcony as he drew Hajoon in, who was busy setting the microphones. They watched in awe as Jaehyeong led you outside while holding your hand.

Woosung smiled knowingly. "Our work here is done. All that's left is for them to follow their hearts."

As you walked out onto the balcony, the sounds of the party gradually faded into the background, merging with the bustling city below like distant background music. You both took in the view, and for a moment, nothing was said.

You took the opportunity to reach for the small birthday present you brought. You were not planning anything specific to gift him, but when you saw it, you immediately thought of Jaehyeong, and you bought it right away.

“I got you something,” you announced.

Jaehyeong looked at you, surprised. “What? You didn’t have to,” he chuckled nervously.

“How could I not? It’s small, but I really hope you like it.” You took a deep breath and handed him the small box.

The gentle touch of his fingers sent thrills down your arm, so you tried to hide the sudden nervous smile that grew on your face. You stared as he opened his present and were moved by his growing smile.

“I’m a psychic… this is so cool. Where did you get it?”

He discovered the reason why, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “I was just window shopping and saw it; it was meant to be yours.”

“You…” he searched for your eyes. “I love it. Could you?” he asked you, offering to put the subtle crystal ball necklace around his neck.

There was no possible way to hide your smile anymore; he had you hooked. You stepped close enough to grab the necklace and softly rested your arms on his shoulders to fasten it. Once the necklace was secured around his neck, you took a second to admire it on him. It was perfect; it wasn’t extravagant, and it fit so well with him. Before he could read the emotions that your eyes expressed, you looked back at the city.

“Thank you,” he simply said.

“Welcome.”

Jaehyeong's heart raced with anticipation, but he took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He reminded himself that there was nothing to worry about when he was with you. Being around you brought him a sense of tranquility that he had never experienced elsewhere. Just by gazing at you and witnessing how your smile mirrored the radiance of the moon in the night sky, he felt at ease.

“Thank you for coming; seeing you made this surprise even better,” Jaehyeong softly said. You turned to face him, and the full sight of your smile melted his worries away.

“There was no reason not to be here.” Something in your voice gave him courage.

“I’ve loved to have you around the past week; we hadn’t seen each other in so long since I was too busy to attend classes.” Jaehyeong stepped closer, slowly, almost without being noticed. “I’ve missed asking you for help; I’ve missed our talks—“

“I’ve missed you too,” you interrupted, summarizing what you’d both felt before you could see each other again.

A fondness entered his eyes, and he nodded. “Y/N,” he started and gently reached for your hand, brushing his thumb over your skin. Your fingers curled around his, igniting sparks in both of your hearts. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something,” he paused for a second. “I’ve felt the agony for so long, but now I’m taking my leap of faith, letting hope lead me. What I’m trying to say is... I like you, Y/N. Not just as a friend. Every time we’re together, you become the highlight of my day.”

A tender smile broke across your face, accompanied by sparkling eyes that searched for his, easing the last of his nerves. “Jaehyeong, I like you too. I have for a while.”

It was your heart´s turn to settle into joy and calmness. You also lived through the agony and hope that Jaehyeong mentioned, making you remember about that small moment you shared in class once. It was almost poetic how he brought it up. He eased you up in ways you hadn’t known before, and that is why you stepped even closer and lifted your free hand to cradle his cheek. Jaehyeong’s eyes fluttered shut at your warm touch, savoring it.

Slowly, you leaned in, giving him every opportunity to pull back if unwanted. But all he wanted was you. He searched for you with his eyes still shut, until both of your lips met in a tender, lingering kiss. His lips were impossibly sweet and soft against yours, weakening your knees, but you stayed strong and continued to kiss him.

You both pulled away, driven by a gentle laugh that started without even thinking much about it all. You rested your forehead on his, keeping your eyes closed as you kept your hand on his cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” you whispered, your thumb stroking his cheek soothingly.

Jaehyeong smiled with ease when your eyes met, both sharing radiant gazes equally filled with care and desire. “You make me so happy,” he shared while his cheeks heated up.

You giggled softly and pulled back to appreciate his face. “I am the lucky one,” you admitted.

“Should we stay out here for the rest of the night?” Jaehyeong asked, almost suggesting.

“You are the star of the party; it’s your birthday.” You giggled even more. “Even though, that sounds nice. No matter how cold it is out here, I feel warm being this close to you,” you confessed.

Jaehyeong’s protectiveness heightened and embraced you, drawing you even closer. “Then let’s get inside. The guys would also probably want to know what happened,” he chuckled. “Did you catch up on their meddling?” he asked, amused.

“I did!” you exclaimed. “I admit they helped quite a bit, though.”

“Yeah, they did.” Jaehyeong searched for your hand and tilted his head towards the door. You squeezed his hand and followed him inside.

You stepped in even closer than you had been when you went out to the balcony. Hajoon noticed the smiles on your faces and whispered at Dojoon to look back, and in a chain reaction, he pulled Woosung from where he was talking to a couple of their friends. They looked at you both in awe, full of joy for what seemed to have been a successful confession. No matter who initiated it or what was said and done, they were just happy for the both of you and how easily everything fell into place.

[hhoneycloves]

and one more for tonight:

I want to be the image that pops into yall's head when you hear ""maladaptive daydreamer."" "Oh isn't that honeycloves guy one of those. He spends hours daily basically larping in his head." I want the people who interact with me to Know. And more importantly, Understand.

I want to talk about how it's been affecting me lately. because it's strange. it's something i didn't realize affected me until rather recently.

Long, long ramble, Throwing it under the cut for those interested in hearing what my tired ass has to say. There is also a TL;DR at the bottom.

sometimes i don't really realize how much i do. how often i seek to avoid mirrors or my reflection because i know I'll see myself. That freakish, imperfect creature with the Problems. it's a vestigial comfort I developed years ago to escape a horrid reality, but now it basically just puts me in Compulsory Roleplay Mode half the time.

And it's been very strange and difficult being like this when I'm not in my own home.

It took me a solid 3 hours to fully process the fact that. today. I came home and put on my Soul outfit. I only just woke up from a nap and realized, holding this plush chicken:

oh god the mental illness got me again 🪦

and The Embarrassment hit me like a truck. God damn. You let yourself stay in that delusional, trance-like state of only being partially yourself for that long? in pseudo-public? AND you muscle-memory'd your way into a closet cosplay for it?

I understand that it causes no physical harn to me, with the biggest detriment being that it causes me to waste valuable time and energy, and that it's very comfortable and safe-feeling to do. But it's more comfortable in one's own space. I've barely been able to make space for myself in the past 3 months. Thus, I've been feeling notably increased feelings of Guilt and Hesitation towards existing in the daydream state.

It would please me to be called Soul for an hour. Even if it's only just once or in passing. But that is a LOT to ask of anyone, especially of those who are caring for you purely out of the goodness of their hearts. Especially of your partner, who has enough going on. It's a lot on others to basically be forced to roleplay with you because of your daydreams. Hence why I crave so much to go back to my house and the safety of my room where I can be Every Character in the story and speak their lines aloud in their voices and turn my music up above 20% volume and not be forced to explain or worry about being heard or judged.

I'm definitely too old to be ill to this extent. it's escapism by every definition. I see it happen when I'm overwhelmed and stressed. I shut down and open my sketchbook and stop being me. Because the Problem is for Noah to deal with. I retreat and move forward as somebody else. Even though I know It's still just Me. This behavior is frankly so ubiquitous to my existence that I likely haven't perceived all the detriment it does yet.

However, sometimes [but not often], it has it's benefits, strangely? Looking at something from the perspective of a different character, whether existing fictional or an OC, sometimes helps me consider a situation in a way I wouldn't usually. How would X do this? How would Y think about this situation? How would Z act if this happened to them?

It also. Y'know. Helps me as a storybuilder. And more recently as a writer. I think my stagnation on this chapter recently has been tied to my hesitation to Be Heart. to Think like him. To go act him out for a few hours, test the waters, see how he would react In Real Time, on the spot. It's not something I can consider passively. All of the other chapters [i do have existing finished chapters! I'm building a buffer!] were spurred by daydreaming Before I wrote them.

In conclusion/TL;DR sorta, because I Need To Go To Bed:

i have an interesting little Condition, maladaptive daydreaming. I feel kind of Awful about when I do it, but it's a sort of escapism addiction left over from past trauma. It's been difficult living with it recently because I'm not at home. I want to go home so I can go back to daydreaming safely. it has it's pros and cons in my personal life, many of which I probably don't even know about.

[agirlwithdemonblood]

I don’t know if you do Jensen x teen!reader but could you do a Jensen and a teen reader where the reader is having a really hard time with school and acting on Supernatural and Jensen starts to notice how drained she is. Then maybe he could make her feel better by helping her with her school work and setting up a movie night with him and Jared.

Sister by fate

Pairings: Jensen x teenage!Reader (Strictly platonic!)

Check out my Masterlist here!

A/N: **Characters under 18 are written platonically, please do not take the relationship I make for them and another character as anything other than friends**

Thank you for the request and all the support! I hope you like it! ❤️

“Cut!!”

You jumped at the sound of the loud voice booming throughout the studio, instantly shaking your thoughts away. You turned towards your coworkers staring blankly back at you.

“Oh.” You whispered, nervousness flooding your system when you realized you fucked up the take, again. On any normal day you’d feel awful, you’d apologize profusely and try harder but you were too tired to put any effort into it. Mentally and physically.

Jensen stepped closer, his eyes lingering on your small, and wobbly form. His attention turned to the director as he held up a finger.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” He questioned.

You plastered on the best smile you could and nodded politely, “Yeah I guess I just need a coffee.”

He smiled and nodded, “Can we take an early lunch?”

The director thankfully agreed and everybody started to clear the set, making their way to the tents or their own trailers and before you knew it, only Jensen and you remained.

His hand rested on your shoulder, leaning lower to catch your eyes. “Ready to go?.”

You shook your head to snap yourself out of the daze and stared back at him, another plastered on smile returned. “Huh? Oh sorry is it lunch?”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his eyes filled with worry. You’ve been different for the past few days and he’s been trying to figure out why or what it was. But you were a good actor. I guess that’s why you were on this show in the first place.

He nodded and waved his hand towards the doorway, letting you walk out first. You two walked in silence. Your head was foggy and your eyes were burning. You weren’t even paying attention to where you were going and Jensen could tell. He watched you, the worry and concern filling him to the void as you walked around like a zombie. It’s like somebody flicked the off switch to your brain and you were just…. Existing but not really here.

You walked past the tent, Jensen quickly running beside you, his hand on your arm. “Wait, the tent is over here where are you going?”

You turned and nodded, wiping your eyes with your fingers to try and make them feel better but it wasn’t working. “Oh yeah I brought a lunch, I’m gonna rehearse my lines anyways.”

Jensen frowned but nodded, he knew he needed to calm down and let you do your own thing but he couldn’t help but worry about you. You were like his little sister and seeing how you’ve been acting lately made him panic.

You’ve only been involved in supernatural for a month now, but since day one Jensen liked you already. You were a shit like him, pulling pranks on your coworkers, blasting music when it was break time, hell you two even had the same humour. You two even argued like siblings, granted you guys don’t really argue more bicker but still. He swore that his mom wasn’t telling him something because there was no way you two weren’t related.

And he knew somewhat about your life. You didn’t speak in big details but you did mention that it was just you and your mom, no father, no siblings. Your mom worked crazy hours at the hospital as a nurse and you worked here. All together, you two were basically adults living their own lives.

He hated that. As much as he was happy for you to be here, he hated that after shooting, you went home alone. He hated that you had nobody to talk to except for the others on set, about anything serious that was.

But most of all he always wondered how you did it. How you managed to be one of the first people here, balancing your career while you were also balancing school. You never seemed to have a hard time with it, you never complained. You always smiled, joked, laughed. You never seemed stressed out.

Until today. Today he realized something was wrong, and he worried.

As soon as you got to your trailer, you dragged yourself to the bathroom staring at the girl in the mirror. You barely recognized her. You knew you were exhausted and stressed, but you didn’t realize how bad it was until you stared at yourself.

You sighed and turned on the tap, splashing cold water on your face as an attempt to wake yourself up but honestly, it was useless. You knew you needed sleep. Or a day off from everything but you couldn’t. There was too much to do.

You’ve been basically awake for the past week studying and completing late assignments for school, and when you weren’t doing that, you were practicing your lines and movements. You’d take 20 minute naps when you could, before you’d wake up and continue your studies, not even stopping to eat a real meal. You’ve been living on finger foods, things that didn’t require for you to use two hands.

But it caught up to you. Every part of your body and your mind was begging you to stop. To just take a break. But you knew you couldn’t do that. If you focused on your career and not school, you’d fail. If you focused on school and not your career, you’d fail. If you focused on neither you’d lose this job, fail school and have no way to help mom with the rent. You had no choice but to crack down and focus on what really mattered. Sleep could come later.

A knock on your door caused you to jump, lifting your head off of the textbook you were reading before you passed out. You looked towards the time and frowned. 20 mins wasted on a nap when you should have been studying. Good job.

The door creaked open and Jensen poked his head inside, his bright smile shining at you but you could see the concern in his eyes.

“Hey Y/N. Is it okay if I eat in here with you?” He asked politely.

You smiled tiredly and nodded, wiping the sleep from your eyes before focusing on the textbook in front of you. The words were all jumbled and blurry, your eyes straining as you tried to make out a simple sentence and you couldn’t.

You could feel yourself growing frustrated and anxious, but tried your best to keep a straight face on, at least in front of Jensen. He didn’t need to know about your stupid teenage problems, he was an adult. With real problems.

You squinted your eyes to try and make out the words on the pages but every few seconds the page went blurry again. You sighed and slammed the book closed, leaning against the couch for just one moment to try to calm yourself down.

Jensen stared back at you, the concern was overflowing now. You could see it fully. “Talk to me.”

You opened your eyes and titled your head in confusion but you knew what he was talking about. You knew what he was requesting. Of course though, having your pride you simply smiled and stood from your spot, “What do you want to talk about Jens?”

He frowned and stood, “About what’s going on. Your not yourself lately.”

You nodded and frowned, shoving your head downwards to the ground. He knew you were failing because you were failing. You were messing up. You were a burden to them, and this is why adults don’t like working with teenagers.

It felt like your lungs were being squeezed, the air slowly disappearing from your chest. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t look at him. All you could hear is the voice in the back of your head screaming at you.

Your going to fail everything. Your supposed to be studying-not hanging out with friends. Why are you wasting time? Do you not care about paying rent? Do you not care about these poor peoples time? They have to redo shoots because of you. They have to spend more time here because of you.

“Y/N.” Jensen spoke, stepping closer. He could see the panic on your face, the fear taking over. He knew where this was headed. “Y/N, come back to me.”

And now they have to babysit you? Take care of you? What, like your new daddy? Come on Y/N your fucking everything up. They have their own lives.

Tears formed in your eyes, your breathing nearly being completely shut off. You couldn't do it anymore, it was too much. All the effort you have been putting in, felt useless to you.

You slid to the ground slowly, resting your head on your knees and finally letting go. A loud sob broke through, all your efforts to keep it inside were gone, and you didn't even care anymore. You didn't care that Jensen was here, watching this because you were too exhausted to try and pull yourself together.

Jensen jumped and crouched in front of you, one hand on your back, the other resting on your knee. "Whoa, sweetie what's happening? Talk to me."

You shook your head and kept yourself hidden as best as you could, the cries pouring out of your mouth like a call for help, and really-it was.

You needed help because you couldn't do this anymore. Every fiber of your being was exhausted. You couldn't think, you couldn't eat, you couldn't sleep, hell you couldn't even breathe at this point.

His hand never left your back, rubbing up and down. He whispered instructions on how to breathe, but most of all he stayed and you needed it. You needed to stop feeling like you were alone. But after the crying slowed and the room was silent, all you felt was like a bigger failure.

You slowly lifted your head and reached Jensen's eyes, watching him frown and stare back at you. "I'm sorry."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his mouth opened to speak but you shook your head, silencing anything he wanted to say.

"No matter what I do, I just keep messing up. I can't do anything right and I've been trying so damn hard.

He frowned as he stared back at you, "Y/N, you haven't messed anything up. You clearly are having a bad day and your exhausted. I can't help unless you talk to me."

You frowned and rested your chin against your knee, avoiding his eyes at all times. "I haven't slept more than an hour for the past week. Exams are coming up and I'm nowhere near ready. I try to focus on Supernatural and I fall behind. I try to focus on school, I mess up my lines. I try and focus on both, and I end up like this."

He shook his head, he felt for you. Like I said earlier, he didn't know how you did it and that should have been enough for him to ask if you needed help, if you needed to talk, but he didn't and he regretted that.

"You know what you need?" he whispered, waiting until your eyes reached his to continue. "You need a classic Supernatural movie night."

You smiled and shook your head, "I have to study, the exam is in two days."

He shook his head, standing in his spot before he grabbed your hand to pull you up. "We will help you study tomorrow and the day before the test. Tonight, you live. You need a break, okay?"

You stared back at those puppy dog eyes. As much as "Sam Winchester" was supposed to be the one who can make you do anything with those eyes, Jensen has gotten pretty damn good at it. You rolled your eyes as a small smiled appeared on your face. "Fineee."

Later that evening, Jensen and you drove to his place where Jared met up. You all went inside and got yourself in a comfy spot, arguing over what movie to watch. It was in-between two choices, Jared vs Jensen and after a bit of arguing, Jensen turned to get your opinion and the boys stopped when they saw you passed out on the couch.

Jensen smiled and walked towards the couch, grabbing a blanket to cover you up. He quickly grabbed his phone and dialed your mom, letting her know that you were asleep and was going to be back in the morning.

Jared smiled while watching you, finally looking at peace for the first time all night.

"Poor girl." Jensen whispered, sitting back on the couch and pressing play on the tv, making sure the volume wasn't loud enough to wake you.

While you slept, Jensen looked through your homework and exam preparation list, noticing that you haven't had a chance to write study notes or anything like that, you were too busy trying to crunch the information in your head.

Jared smiled lightly and sat beside Jensen, "We should make her some cue cards for test day, she seemed to really like those when it\s her lines she's trying to memorize."

Jensen smiled and nodded before going to collect some cards to write your study material on. It was the bare minimum but he was excited to help, to try and relieve at least some of the stress you have been under.

He would do anything for you, his little sister, maybe not by blood, but definitely by fate.

Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it. ❤️

Want to make a request? Please send them here!

[yeehawbrothers]

Seven Year Ache- 10th doctor x timelord! reader

Decided to write this using one of my favorite songs. I hope you love it as much as I do. <3 -A

You act like you were just born tonight

Face down in a memory but feeling all right

So, who does your past belong to today?

Baby, you don't say nothing when you're feeling this way.

The Doctor stood in silence once again, as he always did around this time.

It took everything in you not to walk over and beg him to tell you where his minds eye had taken him, what it was that made him so somber so suddenly.

But you knew it wasn’t your place to ask.

Sure you had known him for a few decades now, but that didn’t mean he was obliged to tell you everything.

Instead you watched as he stared downwards, mindlessly fiddling with a spinning component of the Tardis console.

You sometimes wondered if he felt like he was drowning, facedown in a memory, struggling to get out.

Still, you stood. Watching silently, until he let in a loud sigh and turned to wonder down the Tardis hallways.

Girls in the bars thinking who is this guy?

But they don't think nothing when they're telling you lies.

You look so careless when they're shooting that bull.

Don't you know heartaches are heroes when their pockets are full?

You sat at the bar, sipping an alien cocktail.

Watching across the room, you saw the Doctor, oh sweet, sweet innocent doctor, playing a game of pool with some scantily dressed alien women.

You watched as they made overly exaggerated moves to only touch the doctors chest, or his hand, or arm, or-

You watched as one women roughly tugged on his arm, causing him to miss the shot he had lined up. He turned to face her as she began to bat her eyelashes and speak softly. His eyes widened, whatever she told him must have been quite interesting. She led him to a small sofa, lightly pushing him to sit as she sat VERY, closely beside him. Her hand resting on his thigh suggestively. He, of course, noticed none of this. Too intrigued by whatever apparent lies she was feeding him.

He suddenly leant back, and laughed loudly. Placing a hand to her shoulder in a friendly manner. You felt a sting in your hearts. Why couldn’t that be you?

And everybody's talking but you don't hear a thing

You're still uptown on your downhill swing

The boulevard's empty, why don't you come around?

Baby, what is so great about sleeping downtown?

You stood dressed in pompous victorian fashioned clothing, watching the people scurry to and fro. You looked around, trying to find the doctor in the large crowd of bustling people.

Holding your drink closely, you began to push through the large obnoxious crowd looking for any sign of your Doctor. 

Across the grand ballroom, you saw him standing, talking with the heiress. One of his hands shoved in his suit pocket, seemly searching for something. You watched as he pulled out a small trinket of some sort, showing it off proudly, as the small crowd around him stood and watched in awe. You remembered when he used to be that excited to show you something, telling you to wait as he frantically searched for the item, before proudly showing it to you. Eyes full of what you thought to be love, you now considered that notion foolish.

Many hours after the party had concluded, the bad guy aliens stopped, and the band headed home, you walked out alone to the Tardis. She had parked herself by an old bookstore, a few blocks from the grand ballroom. You solemnly strolled down the empty cobblestone streets, hearing nothing other than the quiet clicking of your shoes. 

The doctor had wanted to stay to speak with a few guests, of course you had said it was fine. But now, as you walked alone, down foggy silent streets, your dress torn and in some places blood decored, you almost wished you had spoken your distain. 

You remember when he used to be so worried about you, fussing over even the smallest paper cut. Maybe it was selfish, but you just wanted to feel that love you thought you once had. 

As you approached the Tardis, your hand reaching for the door, you heard her quiet murmur of concern. 

“Don’t worry about me. I'll be okay.”

There's plenty of dives to be someone you're not

Just say you're looking for something you might have forgot

He stood by the two flight captains, his hands racing across the control keys.

You stood across the room, watching quietly as he told stories of the many ships he had piloted, and how he considered himself to be quite experienced. 

Your friend Captain Jack Harkness, walked in your direction.

Standing beside you he turned his eyes towards the doctor, before he spoke quietly.

“I know that look, what is it?” 

You shook your head, donning a small smile.

“Nothing J. Im fine.” 

He looked down, his expression going unnoticed to your distant eyes.

“Now you and I both know thats not true. You have to say something. If you don't, the issue might never be resolved.” 

You turned to look at him, only to see he was gone.

Don't bother calling to say you're leaving alone

'Cause there's a fool on every corner when you're trying to get home

You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t sit and watch him laugh and talk to all those women. You knew he was just being friendly, but you thought after your conversation he’d understand.

You had taken Jack's advice, and told the Doctor how you felt. That you felt alone and neglected. He had frowned and pulled you into a hug, apologizing and wanting to make it up to you. 

He had taken you to the planet of love. 

Ironic.

You knew he meant well, and you did love the pink and purple clouds. 

Not to mention, the pink tinted rays of sun that coated the bright pastel world below.

But as you watched the women who were native to this planet, their hair flowing down past their ankles effortlessly, their dresses flowing gracefully, despite there being no wind near, and their glowing complexion and bright eyes, you felt inferior.

Sure, timelord women held a beauty of their own, but having possessed this for many years, it felt small and unimportant to these ethereal women.

Tell me you're trying to cure a seven-year ache

See what else your old heart can take.

He stood, regret cascading from him in waterfalls as he read the note you had left.

After speaking to the native women of the planet, he had the perfect first date idea, that is, if you shared his feelings.

But now, it was all deemed pointless. 

Looking down once more at the already tear stained page, he realized just how foolish he had been.

So determined he was, to be as impressive and as desirable as he could, it had only ruined it all.

You had left nothing but a note, stuck to the console with a small patch of tape.

Explaining that you just couldn’t stay. Seeing him with other women made you realize just how stupid your hope of your feelings returned were. You knew he deserved better than what you could offer, and you couldn’t bare the thought of holding him back from what he was seeking.  

He of course, knew it all was in vain. He had loved and adored you since he’d first seen you, wanting nothing more than to call you his. But his childish fear had let him lose you.

A sudden determination set across his features as he threw the paper to the ground, and began running around the console. Flipping switches and turning knobs.

He was going to get you back, and he was going to tell you everything he hadn’t before.

———————————

I loved writing this, let me know if any of you would be interested in more 'song-fits' in the comments.

Thanks for stopping by- A.