#in memory of carrie fisher

[thecreativemillennial]

Star wars girls

[donnadsltwmart]

Billie Lourd I made you something and I hope you like it. They are missed. #debbiereynolds #carriefisher #billielourd #starwars #halloweentown #miss #mom #grandmother #tribute #inlovingmemory

[callmeanxietygirl]

Wearing a Princess Leia dress, Billie Lourd unveiled her mother Carrie Fisher's new star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame today, alongside 'Star Wars' star Mark Hamill #MayThe4thBeWithYou http://thr.cm/0LNi7P8

[stellarred]

In another galaxy far, far away....

Going over the script

[dinosaurwithablog]

This was the place to be in the late 70s. You never knew who you'd see there. What a lovely trip down memory lane. The things that went on there.... let's just say that they didn't serve Pepsi 😉😁😍

Enjoying New York’s famed Studio 54:

Liza Minnelli and Mikhail Baryshnikov

Cher

Diana Ross

Carrie Fisher

Mick Jagger

Dame Shirley Bassey and Sterling St. Jacques

[sehodreams]

a good girl's paradox

TW and Tags: plus size!coworker!reader x coworker!lee tang (he changed his name to Gyeong-su in the episode), mentions of violent acts (stalking, killing, bullying), smut, p in v (with protection), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), suicidal thoughts, trauma, related to the series but it changes the storyline for the fic purposes, unclear descriptions of the place (Busan) because I have no interest into learning more geography for a fic.

WC: 10K

Summary: Everyone goes to that province to hide, and you’re not the exception, but it’s also said that everyone wants to leave, and perhaps, you’re the exception to that.

Comment: Sorry guys I know I have a lot of requests and other drafts waiting, but I love this man so much I couldn’t help it, I started it yesterday and finished it today because I've been having so many problems finishing other fics and decided this was not going to be one of those half done. It's long so there are definitely mistakes, please be kind, again, English is not my first language.

Feeling the ocean breeze mess up with your hair and leave little particles of salt on it, you sat over the bench and watched the sun appear over the horizon. It was incredibly calm, and beautiful, and you inhaled the aroma of the sea in front of you, an aroma your mother used to love when you were younger, always carrying you in her arms to take you there and watch the sunrise together while eating marmalade and butter sandwiches.

You stopped completely going there once she passed away, and everyone knew why you tried to avoid its existence as if it woke up all the melancholic memories you had with her.

The truth was, you always hated it, and you stopped completely going only because you had no reason to do it anymore. You could make your own decisions once she wasn’t around anymore, and your father never cared enough to keep you company even on important events, so for as long as you could, you just didn’t go.

However, now that you saw it in front of you, you did remember some moments with your mother, her smile, and her excited voice telling you to wake up and watch the sun appear.

‘’Fucking sea’’ you said once the sun completely stayed up there, an orange light showering the whole scenery making it even more breathtaking, but still hating it.

You stood up, grabbed the suitcase handle, and walked alongside the sea, trying to catch a cab in that part of the countryside little city, different from Seoul, which was always awake, you saw how only a couple of people were walking around there, and most of them where fishers getting ready for work, or maybe they were coming back, but you, a city girl your whole life, didn’t know.

You found a taxi not much later and telling him where you were going, the driver rolled his window even more, and giving you a good look, he nodded for you to jump in.

‘’It’s not far from here’’ he said, and you nodded, not feeling like talking much with him. ‘’When you leave, don’t let them charge you too much, never pay more than 15 dollars for any cab, and never go to the sea at night.’’

That last sentence caught your attention, sounding like advice but with a hint of uninterest, assuming that you were going to leave one day.

‘’When I leave?’’ you asked.

‘’You’re going to a rented apartment, I know that building, we know everyone here, and you’re a city girl, I can hear it in your voice, all pretty and clear, something happened to you there so you came here to hide, it’s always the same thing, but your kind never like it here enough to stay’’ he answered sure of his statement.

You looked out the window, the sea was blue, pure, immaculate, and the sun wasn’t orange anymore, a clear sky showing the clouds up there, which you could see reflected into the sea.

But it all looked so grey to you, after all, a beautiful thing like that one still killed people every now and then, fishers who tried to make a living, tourists curious of what was deep inside, or simply people who tried to refresh themselves with the cool temperature of it in the summer, so you nodded.

It was beautiful, a dream, but you would never fall in love with it, if you never did it before even with the memories of your childhood, why would you do it now?

‘’Thank you’’ you said, agreeing with him.

You’d never like it enough to stay.

Still, you kind of appreciated his words after living there for almost a month.

Something you never forgot was how that driver, only with that short conversation, helped you so much, because it was true, you never had to pay more than 15 bucks for any cab, and every time the drivers tried to take advantage of you because of your accent, you only had to spit a short fuck off before they called you a bitch and accepted your bills before driving away.

At first, it was hard, you had never cursed in front of another person and you felt almost sick whenever you did it, but after deciding no one knew you there enough to have the right to judge you, or reminding yourself to just say what went through your mind to not punish yourself later with an I should’ve done something different, you started to feel better with your life there.

Also, he had been right about city people hiding there.

There weren’t many, but they were there, and it was incredibly easy to recognize them.

Apart from the dialect, which was pretty much obvious, there was just something about them that screamed I’m not from here that you always noticed.

Perhaps it was the way most of you were programmed to be colder than most of the countryside people, always being respectful and polite, but always lacking that warmness they had, most of them treating each other like friends or family, while all of you were from the exterior, uninvited guests that one day would leave, and knowing your place, all of you said thank you, hello and goodbye without smiling or eye contact.

It wasn’t that bad for you thought, you had already told yourself to not be involved with people at all if it wasn’t necessary to avoid useless problems, but again, you were only a girl, and Gyeong-ah was just a girl too, and girls, as much as you tried to deny it, feel easily alone.

You met while buying groceries, and you knew immediately she was from Seoul because instead of choosing the detergent almost all the residents there bought, which had a powerful, almost heavy aroma of flowers to mask the sea smell, she chose the softer version without aroma that most girls that lived alone in Seol used to not mess with your perfumes.

You didn’t wear perfume, you never liked it, but you recognized the brand as if it was general knowledge taught at school.

‘’You’re from Seoul’’ you said before you could think it, and it wasn’t a question at all, it was a fact that she, when she heard it, couldn’t even deny because she recognized you too.

‘’You too’’ she said, and suddenly you had a friend.

Just as city girls, you two knew how to talk to each other, never crossing lines and being as cordial as you could, wanting to know but never digging too deep unless you were sure the other deserved to know delicate information about yourselves.

In a month you became best friends, and you started to like to live there, the grey color the area had wasn’t as grey anymore, taking a brighter variation now, almost becoming white, as white as her ceilings, or as the smile she sometimes showed you.

Both of you had really white teeth from performing as perfect city girls before arriving there, religiously visiting the dentist to get expensive treatments at least twice a year and using the famous toothpaste that girl group promoted on TV between music shows, with the phrase ‘’a pretty smile is a pretty heart’’ pushing half the population to buy it, effective, an incredibly overpriced.

Both of you stopped using it, but you respected how it still showed its results.

‘’The supermarket is opening a new position as a cashier, you could come if you want, you receive discounts as an employee’’ she said to the air when you were rambling about almost not having enough savings.

Even if it was the countryside and rent wasn’t even half of what you paid before, with everything you spent after unsuccessfully trying to fit the beauty standards when you lived there, your savings weren’t enough to live unemployed for too much time.

Next week you, instead of waking up to take a little walk before breakfast, now got ready to go to work and be a useful human being to society again.

And with that, both of you took a step further into your friendship, being able to reveal, after drinking a couple of beers, why you escaped from the city.

Gyeong-ah told you everything, from the pretty sequence of how she and her boyfriend met, to then what he did to hurt her, and how she suffered until she had to go through all those surgeries before she moved to Busan.

You told her everything too, how your boss pushed his hand under your skirt, how you reported it and how everyone looked at you as if you were crazy, ‘’She’s the one that reported the sexual assault case? She should be grateful anyone wanted to fuck her’’, and how, being completely alone, you were bullied until you had to quit.

‘’I was the first place in my class’’ she said.

‘’I closed the best deal the company ever had’’ you said.

Both of you cried until you fell slept together on her bed, and only woke up because both of you had to get ready for work.

It didn’t take long for you to get used to your new job, you were already a seller before arriving there, you knew how to talk to people and how to fake a good smile, charming customers into buying products they didn’t need and quickly gaining the manager approbation, because, after all, as everyone said, you were a good girl.

Sadly, Gyeong-ah didn’t have the same luck, and you understood her, she studied to do something different with her life, and you did it too, but she was younger and never had to learn how to make people love her before because she was incredibly gorgeous, but now that beauty wasn’t as useful anymore, and not knowing how to pretend as much as you, she couldn’t gain the appreciation you did, getting more scolds than praises.

It was on one occasion that her inexperience got her into a big argument with a client, and sadly you saw the first crack of your friendship appear.

That client was demanding a refund for a product without the receipt, and you wanted to run to her and repeat how you also couldn’t find the purchase on the system, but that woman was screaming so bad you got flashbacks of your boss’s wife screaming at you to take back the complaint, how her husband would never touch a disgusting pig like you (calling you that when she was as fat, to not say more, than you), and how you should just ruin your own life if you wanted to ruin someone’s.

She had the same voice tone, and even looked exactly like her, with dark red lipstick, a failed perm and all those cheap accessories, she was her spitting image.

You couldn’t move, watching the situation happen from afar, feet stuck to the floor and hands shaking, you repeated inside your mind to go and help her, to take her side, but you couldn’t, and making eye contact with one of the boys from the fish section when he walked in front of you, you closed your eyes to ignore the situation and not feel as pathetic as you did.

Later, when your break came, you went out to breathe as much air as you could, and trying to erase the memory of the past moment from your mind, you tried to think what could you do to apologize to Gyeong-ah.

Out there, between a couple of cars, in the middle of the immense parking lot, you tried to hide so no one saw you spiraling into a thousand thoughts, and there, almost breaking down, you stopped yourself from doing it when you saw the guy from before talking to that woman.

It looked as if she wanted to discuss with him too. He was beside her car, and she started to get closer to him while talking, you couldn’t hear it, but you saw her mouth moving as fast as before.

You were about to get closer to hear them, but you stopped once you saw a disgusting string of saliva being spit on the concrete by him.

It was so long and thick that you didn’t doubt it was a consequence of all those cigarettes he smoked every day.

You didn’t smoke, but Gyeong-ah did, and sometimes the smoke got impregnated in your clothes, so you could easily identify the Marlboro smell of the pack the two of them chose all the time, but he, unlike Gyeong-ah, had a smell a lot stronger.

Your thoughts were left aside once you saw the woman moving around nervous and he trying to take her phone. What the hell, you thought, and you were about to intervene when the woman jumped into her car and drove away.

Making eye contact with him again, he watched you for a couple of seconds before he turned around and completely ignored you, continuing to smoke his cigarette in peace.

‘’I don’t have time for this’’, you whispered to yourself and walked inside to talk with Gyeong-ah and not overthink anymore.

The first crack wasn’t deep, she said she understood it, and you hugged before finishing your shift and going back home to drink and badmouth that terrible woman, especially you, not thinking much of the woman from the supermarket, but of your boss’s wife.

She laughed while hearing all the insults you had about her appearance, going to sleep with a smile on her face and telling you that she would understand if the situation happened again because it wasn’t your fault, or hers, it was theirs for not understanding you two.

Little cracks continued to appear on the frame of your friendship, but it was still solid enough to survive everything.

At least, until Sangnim appeared, and completely smashed it to leave no trace of it.

That fucking bastard, as you used to call him, ruined everything with his existence.

The minute you saw him you knew something was off with him, you couldn’t help but notice small details when the two of them gave you a lift home, sensing the aroma of a perfume you used to smell a lot in Seoul inside his car, it was impossible Gyeong-ah was the only woman riding it, and you tried to slip a question without looking suspicious.

‘’Sangmin-ah, do you have sisters? I can’t believe how much you understand my Gyeong-ah’’ you said with a smile.

He made eye contact with you through the mirror and showed you a wide grin.

‘’I don’t have any sisters, but you’re so sweet, I really try to take care of Gyeong-ah as much as I can, she deserves it’’ he answered immediately.

‘’You’re right, she deserves it’’ you repeated, still smiling.

Shut the fuck off, you contained yourself from saying that out loud, nodding and looking around to find any other clue.

You couldn’t find anything, but he was definitely a cheater, and you, not having any solid proof, didn’t know how to break the news, so you pretended to not know anything to find the correct moment to say it.

Still, you left little comments every now and then, not blaming him, but leaving a trail of doubts around, doubts that sadly were never enough for Gyong-ah, fracturing too much your relationship.

You even thought that maybe you were exaggerating too, maybe deep inside you just tried to find a reason for her to end things with him, he was never going to stay, he said it before when you three had dinner, he’d go back to Seoul next year, and contrary to all predictions, thanks to your friendship, you liked it here enough to stay.

The future wasn’t bright at all, but it was enough for you, maybe in a couple of years you could escalate to a better position, you’d get benefits, you would walk around the beach every Sunday morning, and then you’d go and have breakfast with Gyeong-ah.

You had to apologize, for the sake of your friendship.

However, you didn’t have to, or more than that, you could never do it, because three days later Gyeong-ah passed away.

Waking up in your free day, you sent her a text to ask for an hour of her time to talk, but she didn’t answer in fifteen minutes, and you just knew something was wrong.

Taking a cab to her house, you saw the ashes all around, and how her room was the one who started it.

‘’It seems the oven was on’’ you heard one firefighter say.

Dropping to your knees, you denied it, because she always checked everything at least three times before going to sleep, it didn’t matter how drunk she was, she would check the door, the kitchen, and would unplug her phone charger from the wall.

‘’I saw on the news that chargers can get on fire’’ she said, and you laughed in her face because that only happened once every thousand times, ‘’Well, with my luck, I could be that one time.’’

‘’Shut up’’ you said while knocking three times on her wooden headboard.

 It had to be him, it had to be him, it’s the only answer, she would never do it, she wouldn’t let her oven on in a million times, they didn’t know her like you did, and sadly, soon no one would remember her like you did.

Calling her mother was the hardest part, you couldn’t remember how the hug of a mother felt in real life, and when she wrapped you into her arms, you broke down with her, because even if you didn’t know her, Gyeong-ah had been telling her about you, always finishing the calls with the same sentence, ‘’Don’t worry mom, my friend’s is taking care of me here.’’

‘’I’m so sorry, I should’ve taken more care of her, I’m so sorry’’ you repeated in her arms, and her mother denied it, saying how that wasn’t your fault at all, but you felt as it was, because you could've stopped her from seeing him, you should’ve stopped her the minute you figured him out.

You didn’t, and it didn’t matter how many nights passed, you couldn’t sleep with the guilt consuming you.

Looking at the beach at night one day, not being able to sleep again, you remembered how the first day you arrived you were told to never go to the sea at night, and right there, you understood why that driver told you that.

For the first time ever, you thought that maybe, maybe, you should just get lost in it, like the fishers, like the tourists, like the innocents.

You weren’t none of them, none of them deserved it, but you were convinced you did.

And you were about to go meet her, until you realized that, there, on earth, you could continue taking care of her, because even if she wasn’t there with you anymore, you could do what was necessary to make Sangmin pay for what he did.

You wouldn’t survive another I should’ve, so you would do it, you would do what was necessary, and nothing would stop you.

Finding Sangmin’s information wasn’t hard, you just had to do a couple of clicks on the internet, and you had everything you could need.

If only you had done that before, but you refused to go back into social media, all your profiles were flooded with hate comments from people you used to work with, or your boss’s family, or people who didn’t know anything at all but felt the right to talk about your body, and she had also deleted all kind of social media for a similar reason, so none of you knew how he was about to get married, and how you had been right about the smell of her fiance's perfume and all the little comments you had left around.

It was simply impossible how they met was a coincidence, getting sex extorted just like Gyeong-ah? He knew how to get close to her and break down her walls, he planned everything, and finally, you had no doubt about doing something.

You planned to wait for him out of his job, you wanted to do it quick and easy, and no one would suspect you, you looked like a good girl, you were a good girl, you were one until he appeared and stole the little family you had, he stole your whole life, and you would do it too.

With a knife in hand, you waited for him to get out of work, and you thought that he would drive his car, but he didn’t, so you followed him down the dark street to an unknown place.

Gripping onto your weapon, you felt your heart punching your ribcage, nervous as never before.

I can do it, I can do it, you repeated inside your mind, trying to convince you again.

But you couldn’t, and entering an alley, letting him go, you started to cry while hugging your knees, apologizing to Gyeong-ah for not being able to do anything for her.

You felt a cold sensation touch your nape and you jumped away from it surprised, looking up at the sky night and watching the guy from work you never liked.

‘’Drink this’’ he pushed the water bottle to your face, almost obliging you to take it, and your heart started to beat again, knowing he had seen what you tried to do, knife on the floor easily to differentiate even in the dark.

‘’Gyeong… Su?’’ you tried to remember his name.

‘’Go home, sleep, and tomorrow go to work, the manager keeps calling you and leaving messages, your position is still yours’’ he said, almost immediately walking away, but you stopped him gripping his jeans.

‘’You saw me’’ you affirmed,

‘’I did’’ he didn’t try to lie.

‘’Don’t you think I’m bad? I tried to do something really bad.’’

Your voice almost broke, and your hand on his jeans was trembling.

He looked down at you, maintaining eye contact and scanning you, and you felt as if he was inside your mind, finding exactly what he wanted to know.

‘’You’re not bad’’, he said after a long silence.

‘’You don’t know me’’, you replied as soon as he finished talking.

He shrugged and pulling apart from your grip, he talked one last time before leaving, ‘’That’s true.’’

Completely alone there, you cried again until you felt satisfied, and looking up to the dark clear sky, you apologized one last time to Gyeong-ah, and to your mom, and to you, and after drinking the whole bottle of water, you walked to the beach, burring the knife into a hole in the sand you dug with your own hands, to then go home, take a shower, and sleep.

The next day you had to go to work, and you needed to sleep at least a couple of hours.

When you arrived at work the next day you told yourself to completely ignore Gyeong-su, not wanting to talk with someone who had seen you in such deplorable moments like the ones you had.

However, again, you were just a girl, and not having anyone around you anymore, he was the closest thing to intimacy you had.

The relationship you had wasn’t deep enough to be called a friendship, he rarely talked about himself, only keeping you company when he smoked a cigarette in his break and when his turn finished.

You can’t remember how you started to get closer to him, you just remember seeing him smoke near the plastic table behind the supermarket, near the entrance in which all trucks left the daily order of products, and sitting next to him in silence, missing the smell of the Marlboro Gyeong-ah used to smoke.

Somehow, it brought you a calm feeling, and your mind stopped thinking, becoming a blank sheet that didn’t need to be filled with anything, not memories of her, or your past life in Seoul, or Sangmin, only breathing and watching the ugly metallic green bars that surrounded the place as if it was a prison, separating it from the outside world.

He didn’t mind you staying there, and days after days, you started to notice his presence around more often inside the supermarket, and the little behaviors he had.

‘’A man of few words’’, you called him when he didn’t answer your question if he was from Seoul too, thing he never acknowledged, but it was too obvious.

He didn’t have the province dialect, he had a soft way of slurring words whenever the manager or his superior in the fish section made him questions, like most boys in the city did, especially those who worked as part-timers in convenience stores, a polite but tired tone, and you were sure he had received some kind of superior education because when you carried a copy of Justice written by Michael Sandel, he followed it with his eyes until you pushed it inside your bag.

‘’Those who insist that only bleeding wounds should count believe that post-traumatic stress reflects a weakness of character unworthy of honor. Those who believe that psychological wounds should qualify argue that veterans suffering long-term trauma and severe depression have sacrificed for their country as surely, and as honorably, as those who’ve lost a limb’’ you quoted the next day while he lighted his second cigarette and seemed more relaxed next to you.

‘’I’m too dumb for that’’ was the only thing he said before exhaling a long line of smoke.

You don’t know why, but after hearing him so sure while saying that, and after such a long time, you were able to laugh again.

Things were slightly getting better after two months, you could sleep at least four hours now, and you were doing things again, not only staring at your TV when you arrived home. You opened old books she had left at your house, cleaned your place more, and ate proper meals, and you still cried, but at least you were able to smile when you saw pictures of her in your phone.

Still, there were moments in which you crumbled, and one of them was when you heard what happened to Sangmin a long time ago, only a couple days after you tried to do… that.

You heard it from one of the clients, how weird things were happening, first the death of a former worker there in the supermarket, and then the death of her boyfriend, and how now there were other two girls dead.

‘’This never happened before those people started to move here’’ her companion, another elderly woman said, and of course they referred to the people like you, people that weren’t born or grew up there, but you couldn’t help but only think in what you had heard about Sangmin.

Sangmin was dead, and what should’ve brought you joy for fair karma, instead made you hide in the warehouse, crying and spiraling into your thoughts about Gyeong-ah, and how you didn’t even make an effort to make sure she got her real justice, cleaning her name from everyone’s mouths.

‘’What’s going on?’’ you heard Gyeong-su’s voice come from behind the shelf you were leaning to.

‘’He-He’s dead’’ you answered, you didn’t need much to think of how to phrase it, he knew who you were referring to.

‘’Isn’t that what you wanted?’’ he asked you.

You stayed silent, muffled cries hiding in your knees.

‘’I don’t know, but I’m hurting so much, and all I keep thinking about is how Gyeong-ah must have suffered more than me when she left this place, and how I’ll never be able to know if he received what he deserved, even more, how because of that I’ll never be able to clean her name, and now no one will remember her as clearly as I do’’ you then confessed.

Feeling like a sinner telling a priest all of her secrets, you felt as if something had left your chest free, your mind finally was out there, formed into words and tears, and you didn’t see his face, but that let you speak your mind even more free.

‘’I see’’ he murmured, ‘’and you’ve thought that all this time, I guess.’’

‘’Yes,’’ everything was out, your tears sliding down your cheeks and your body lighter, almost numb.

‘’Well, you shouldn’t compare your pain, or hers, or his, each of you went through things none of you three know, she doesn’t know how you’re mourning her death, you don’t know how she suffered the process of it, and none of you know how he suffered his, those are things none of you will ever know, so it’s okay if you hurt, but you don’t have to think much into what he deserved, because you’ll never have an answer, and you shouldn’t condition what you feel into an answer you’ll never receive.’’

You sniffed your tears, looking at the packages of toilet paper in front of you, wishing you could take one to clean your face.

‘’And I do remember her, not as clearly as you do, of course, no one will, she was your friend, but I remember she liked to buy fresh tuna every Friday to eat with you, she always had a blank face when the manager scolded her or when she talked to rude clients, and she would rarely smile, but with you, she would do it in front of others sometimes.’’

You exhaled.

That was exactly her, she liked tuna when you hated it, and you picked on her for having an old man's taste buds, you preferred chicken over it, but you let her win every time one of you had to choose, and yeah, she did stare blankly at others, including you, but if it was a good day, she would smiled at you with those white pearls she had inside her mouth.

Feeling as if some heavy weight was lifted from your shoulders, you exhaled and let your head fall to the shelf you were leaning into.

‘’You two were the city pair’’ he finished, making you laugh.

‘’You’re also a city boy’’ you said, and he coughed, ‘’and you’re a liar, you said you were dumb.’’

‘’I am, I never understood that book’’ he said before grabbing the box between you two, lifting it, and going out, leaving you there alone.

You felt as if finally, you had taken a step in the right direction, moving from your position, you cleaned your tears with the ugly blue vest, too hard for your cheeks, and waking you up with the pain.

A week later another girl died, and your boss had to organize a meeting.

‘’It seems the current situation is getting dangerous, especially for young girls, so the superiors have ordered all the women to leave while the sun is still up’’ he said, and you don’t know if it was because of an empathy people from where you grew up didn’t have, but you got surprised when none of the men argued with it, everyone nodding in unison.

You had permission to leave early, so you did it, not being able to share Gyeong-su’s company when your turn finished, only seeing each other in the first break.

‘’You’ll miss me’’ you said the first day, and he never made any sound to acknowledge your silly jokes, but this time he let a soft snicker, almost imperceptible, that made you smile too.

You tried to always do what you were told to, so you left before the sun went down, but that day you were in charge of counting merchandise in the warehouse, so you didn’t see how late it was until you checked your phone.

It was even later than the time for everyone to leave, so you quickly grabbed your things, said good night to your male coworkers, and left.

You tried to not get paranoid with the news, they specified that the killer only directed its attention to pretty girls, loving long legs and soft features.

Gyeong-ah and Sangmin cases were mentioned every now and then to repeat how dangerous things were getting, but they were never related to the girl’s deaths, being two different situations.

That’s why, you tried to convince yourself you would be okay, you didn’t share any of the characteristics the killer loved in their victims, and he supermarket wasn’t far from your house, but you didn’t dare to walk alone anymore between all the buildings, so you waited for a cab to appear and take you home.

You made sure to always be careful when you were alone, yes you took cabs, but you always had a pen on your hand and your phone ready to call 119 in the other, checking the routes and if the driver looked at you too much.

Everything was okay, you were already relaxed when you saw your building in front of you, so you shoved your things in your bag, pulled out the bill, and paid, walking home with an easy mind.

You never thought you would get snatched right next to your door.

With a hand on your mouth and the other on your tummy, you felt how you were dragged into the alley next to your building, darkness surrounding you while you felt a disgusting presence behind you.

The one who pulled you in was a man, taller than you, with big hands and an erection already ready to make your worst nightmare real.

You started to cry, muffled by his gloved hand, you couldn’t say anything when you heard his voice calling you sweet treat, ordering you to be silent if you didn’t want things to get ugly.

Begging Gyeong-ah, your mother, and God to send you help, you nodded when he said he would let you go if you were good.

‘’Promise?’’ he murmured.

‘’Promise’’ you agreed, closing your eyes and letting his hand cup your pussy with force, not making a single sound, only trembling with tears running down your cheeks.

He pushed your face to the wall and made you show him your bubbly ass, touching it as much as he wanted without an ounce of shame.

You thought this is it, my karma, repeating inside your head how this was your punishment for all the things you should and shouldn’t have done.

The man couldn’t even open the button of your jeans before you heard a loud bang and his body fell to the floor.

Staying in your position, you pressed your face to your hands and didn’t dare to turn around to see what was making all that noise, it was metallic, and it didn’t stop even when the man didn’t make a single noise anymore.

When things got silent, you, still trembling, turned your head to see what, or who stopped the man.

You never expected to see Gyeong-su covered in black clothes from head to toe, paint all over the floor, covering the man's body and face, and the can totally smashed and tossed to the side.

‘’Uh?’’ was the only thing that came out of your mouth.

‘’I knew he was going to come for you, this sick bastard’’ he said.

You didn’t understand why he thought that, and watching your white sneakers get ruined with the blood and the red paint, you started to cry even more, still in silence.

‘’It’s okay, you’re okay’’ he said, giving you your messed bag and, once again, leaving you alone.

You called the police, the number still there on your screen ready to only press the green button, and when you did it, you said your direction as clearly as you could.

‘’Did you see who did it?’’ one of the officers asked you, and you stayed silent for a good minute before answering.

‘’I didn’t’’ then you said.

The two cops keeping you company looked at each other and then the one writing things down nodded.

‘’I see’’ was the only thing he said before leaving you alone.

You didn’t have much to do, the man was dead, and now nothing could be done.

Was that justice? You thought.

They immediately recognized him as the killer, he had a patron, pretty girls who lived alone, and all the bodies showed the same signs of abuse before dying.

Perhaps he had lied to all of them, and he had lied to you, convincing you that if you did no sound you would live, but you’d have died just like them at the end.

But did he deserve to die? Just like Sangmin, wasn’t there another way to get justice for your pain? For yours, Gyeong-ah’s, and all those girls’.

Still, what you knew was that, even if it was contrary to all your values, knowing how valuable life was, Gyeong-su didn’t deserve any punishment, he had saved you, and justice for you, was that he continued free out there.

The next day before you went to work, you saw rests of the red paint still over the cement, thin layers already dry after so many hours, cracked with the breeze of the sea, and you thought how, if Gyeong-su hadn’t saved you yesterday, what anyone else would have seen in daylight was your cold body lying out there.

All your coworkers hugged you when you arrived, and your manager told you to take the day off if you needed, but you couldn’t go back home or you’d start to overthink things again, if what you did was the correct thing to do, if he deserved to die like that, if you were a killer too, taking into account how you saved Gyeong-su’s secret.

When the first break came you walked out to the plastic table, but Gyeong-su wasn’t there, and hugging your coat, you sat to wait for him, but he didn’t come.

He avoided you for days, and you thought the pseudo-friendship you had was over, until a detective arrived and started to make questions about what had happened to you that day.

‘’You really didn’t see who did it?’’ he asked, and you denied again, already used to say that lie as if it was an unchanging truth, ‘’Do you mind if I walk around here a little bit?’’

You didn’t have a reason to say no, but your eyes caught how Gyeong-su opened the curtain separating the counter from the freezer where all the fish waited to be cut and packed to be sold, and how he immediately took a step back, not letting himself be seen.

You don’t know why, but you knew Gyeong-su didn’t want that detective to see him.

‘’I’m sorry, but I really don’t want to see any more cops lurking around, he’s dead, and looking at you only brings me back the bad memories of that night’’ you didn’t know why you said something like that, it didn’t make any sense, all the older ladies loved to see the cops near, feeling a lot safer, but you didn’t know what else to say to make them leave.

His younger companion frowned and was about to say something before the detective stopped him and nodded, leaving you his card and telling you to call him in case you ever needed help or remembered something.

You didn’t answer, shoving it into one of the numerous pockets your vest had, and turned your back to continue writing down the stock you were counting.

‘’Ugly girls should learn how to talk prettily at least’’ you heard the younger say.

‘’Shut up, she’s a victim, she doesn’t have to entertain you with pretty words’’ the older quickly replied, ‘’and you don’t know what you’re saying, her face is very pretty.’’

Jand Nam-gam, you read in the card he left you.

He seemed like the kind of person who was only respected by the people who were near him, used to receive no as answers, and a bit blunt and unsophisticated, from the city, just like you, but without the calm and respectable vibe a detective from there usually had, and too honest and correct to survive there for long.

When you went out for your break a couple of hours later you saw Gyeong-su sitting on the table, smoking and waiting for you.

You sat next to him and for the first time, you showed him your palm, asking for a cigarette too.

Without looking at you, he gave you the one he was smoking, still new and ready for you to take it.

Your fingers brushed his when he gave it to you, and you tried to not think much about it, but you always thought too much, so to shut your mind up, you inhaled the cancer stick and held it as long as you could, slowly letting the grey cloud appear in front of your face.

The city had the same grey color it used to have before Gyeong-ah, and you weren’t sure how long you could stay there.

Your imagination wasn’t filled with a future there, you didn’t want to walk around the beach anymore, you had no one eating breakfast with you in your head, and you were afraid every time your turn finished and you had to go back home, running the few steps to open your building door, and only feeling safe once you checked that your oven was off and you put a chair behind your secured door.

‘’I didn’t ask for your help’’ he then said.

‘’Me neither’’ you answered.

He nodded, still looking at the metallic bars surrounding you.

‘’How did you know I didn’t want him to see me’’ he asked, breathing the air and pushing his hands inside his apron pockets.

‘’How did you know he was going to come for me’’ you asked back.

He shrugged like every time you asked him anything he couldn’t ignore.

‘’I just knew he would come for you, after all, they said he followed pretty girls.’’

It felt completely different from when the detective said it, and you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling a warm sensation reach your cold hands.

‘’I just knew it too’’ you said, tossing the rest of the stick to the floor.

It tasted like shit, and you couldn’t understand how he and Gyeong-ah smoked it every day.

‘’I won’t come to work tomorrow.’’

You felt incredibly alone again, you knew he meant that he wouldn’t come back, he would, again, leave you there on your own.

‘’Can you walk me home today? I’m afraid of going on my own.’’

He knew why you asked him that, a goodbye, a farewell, so he nodded and told you to wait for him at the front door.

Your turn finished and then you were waiting for him right where he had told you, a good girl following his words exactly like he wanted.

You stayed there, hands playing with the leather strap of your bag, the bag you used when you lived in Seoul, too noisy in the province, reason why you preferred to go around with your canvas tote bag, a lot more discreet and common, but that one had been ruined with the red paint that day, and just like your white sneakers, you had to toss it away.

When he appeared he nodded at you, indicating you with a tilt of his head to lead the way.

You two walked on silent, you couldn’t make any question or comment or silly joke, and it was obvious, by the grip on your bag, that you were nervous.

He noticed it, and pulling out his hand from the pocket of his bomber jacket, he grabbed your left hand and held it all the way to your house.

You felt incredibly calm, thinking how you shouldn’t because you knew, deep down, that he was dangerous. It was impossible, by the fear of facing the detective, that he hadn’t killed more people, and it was clear he was being followed.

That makes sense, you thought, if you weren’t sent to that province because of work, like Sangmin, you were hiding, and he was just like Gyeong-ah and you, escaping from things that had happened in the past, or perhaps, things that were still happening now.

But you hadn’t felt so safe in so long, because you knew that, with him, nothing would snatch you next to your house, and that no one would be able to enter your house, or that your oven was never going to magically explode.

With him by your side everything was okay, you were okay, and that was enough to make all those preoccupations disappear.

When you got to your entrance you let his hand go to open the principal door with your key, and he was behind you, observing you, you could feel his eyes on the back of your head, but when you turned to him, he let his eyes fall to the floor.

‘’Do you want to drink some coffee?’’ you asked, and he nodded, following you inside and walking up the stairs until you got to your little apartment.

It wasn’t amazing, but it was yours. You didn’t have an elevator, and you always had to go up to the fifth floor to let your clothes dry with a big basket, but it was okay, you liked your building, your neighbors were quiet, and you felt safe and sound there. Until that happened.

Inside your room you let him close the door for you, and you didn’t feel the need to immediately put the secure on, leaving your coat on the hanger instead, and taking off your shoes, you walked to your little kitchen, putting water in an electric kettle to boil it.

You could cook in your kitchen, but you never used the oven, and you preferred the electric kettle over the traditional one because once the water was done, it would automatically turn off.

Then you sat on the floor, leaving two cups, sugar and coffee over the little wooden table you had, and turning on the TV, you looked at him in the eyes until he sat beside you on the floor.

He was wearing an ugly grey sweater that kind of smelled like fish, mascaraed with what you identified as the cheap deodorant you sold in the store, but you were used to the fish smell he had, so you didn’t mind.

‘’Do you mind if I take a shower?’’ He said not much after.

You nodded, the news had just started, and you mindlessly changed the channel to try to find anything interesting.

 ‘’Sure, there are towels in the cabinet, I’ll get you some clothes, they’re mine, but I’m sure they’ll fit you’’ you said, and he didn’t waste a second to walk to your bathroom.

You gulped while changing the channels, you knew what you were going to do, but you hadn’t done it in so long, you needed a second to recognize what that sensation forming on your abdomen was.

You hadn’t done anything at all, and you felt yourself already getting wet inside your panties.

The click the jug did after the water was done caught your attention and you stood up to get the water, pulling out the cord from the plug, but knowing you had to get him his clothes, you walked to your little closet to find a t-shirt and some pants that could fit him.

He wasn’t buff at all, but he was lean, a normal guy there, not fat, not big, not small, and taller than normal, so you decided to find the biggest clothes you had.

You were choosing when you heard the door open and you felt him walking behind you, hands surrounding your waist and wetting your back with the drops that were still sliding down his chest.

‘’I chose this’’ you said, lifting the clothes so he could see them, feeling his breath touch the side of your neck and his nose brushing your skin.

‘’I’ll wear them later then’’ he answered, pushing you to your closed closet and making you turn to him.

You weren’t that short, but just then you noticed how much taller than you he was. He made you lift your eyes to him with a touch to your hands, taking the clothes from your hands and letting them fall to the floor.

‘’I- I don’t remember much how this was… it’s been years for me’’ you admitted, and he nodded.

‘’It’s been years for me too’’ he said, not as ashamed as you.

With the same hand that tossed the clothes, he made you look at him and accept his mouth over yours, taking the lead in the kiss and erasing all your thoughts.

It felt good, his lips were chapped, and he had the taste of smoke in his mouth, but you didn’t mind, it finally tasted good, and moving your hands to his neck, you let him press his body against yours, the lower half of his body only covered by one of your towels.

He wasn’t hard, but you could feel something poking at the front of your jeans, and you wanted him to lay on your bed, so after a couple of long minutes, and just after he had enough of your mouth, you murmured something.

‘’Let’s go to my bed’’ you begged with hazy eyes and weak legs, leaning onto him, who was holding you with his body against your closet doors.

He nodded, and taking your hand, he guided you there, making you sit and look up to him.

Your lights were on, and you felt nervous, you had never had sex with the lights on, you only had a couple of partners, and they always turned them off before fucking you.

‘’You can turn off the lights if you want’’ you said, looking at him in the eyes.

He didn’t answer, his hand went to your cheek, and he pressed the tips of his fingers over your skin, caressing it and then brushing your wet lips after all his kisses, slightly red and plump thanks to the way his lips covered them.

He didn’t acknowledge what you said, bending down to retake the contact between both mouths.

Full of life, unlike his usual demeanor, eager, he pushed you to your back, making you receive him between your legs.

Slightly harder, you felt the border of his boner only covered by the fabric damp your jeans, but he didn’t stop kissing you, one hand lying on your neck and the other helping him stay still over you to not let all his weight crush you.

You opened your legs as much as you could with the jeans stopping you from going too far.

 ‘’You know what I’ll do to you’’ he said after a minute.

You nodded.

‘’I won’t stop’’ he warned.

‘’I don’t want you to’’ you answered.

You knew no one was going to save you from that place, it wasn’t his job, so you’d accept this as enough, and you’d let him go without resentment and an I should’ve done it.

‘’Will you be okay?’’ he asked, afraid of hurting you more.

‘’I want this to happen’’ you said, making him look at you, caress your cheek once again, and give you another kiss before his hands went to your button and helped you take your jeans off.

Sliding the clothing off your legs, he pushed your thighs wide open, and feeling the texture of the towel, his now hard cock against your clothed clit made you whimper.

‘’It feels good’’ you said, to what he agreed with you.

‘’It feels good’’ he affirmed.

He did soft movements to stimulate you with his cock, only letting you feel what would soon be inside you.

Looking at your eyes flutter, he pushed up your shirt, showing him your black bra hugging your chest.

Touching the skin uncovered by your cups, he pressed his thumb to see how far it could sink into your skin.

Your chest was bigger than normal, just like your tummy, but he liked it, it looked comforting and soft, perfect for him to rest a little bit, after his exhausting life, it looked like a taste of paradise.

You pushed his hands while taking your shirt off without asking, to then unhook your bra and toss it to the floor.

‘’Touch me properly’’ you said, making him snicker.

You had forgotten how that little grin looked like, and you smiled when it appeared again.

‘’Okay,’’ he replied, unabashedly grabbing both tits and groping them, looking at how the skin flooded his grip between fingers, and feeling good with both sensations, his cock against your cunt, and his hands in your chest, you closed your eyes and moaned, moving your head to your side and cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

He didn’t let you hide yourself for long, making you open your mouth for him and pushing his tongue inside your mouth, obliging you to let the moans out.

Your panties were incredibly wet, and he left one of your tits free to sneak a hand inside them.

Juices gladly receiving him, he groaned when he felt you dripping all over his fingers.

Without asking, just like when you took your shirt, he introduced a finger.

You cried with his mouth over yours.

His finger was long, and it sent a delicious shock to your core, making you frown at how good it felt.

‘’More’’ you begged, and he gladly obliged, pushing one more finger to make scissoring motions and prepare you for him.

‘’Shit, it’s begging for it’’ he groaned when he heard how much your insides were squelching, asking for him to fill you up.

‘’Yes, yes’’ you cried, listening to his nasty approbations telling you how good you’d take him, and how much he couldn’t wait to fill that sweet pussy of yours.

Fucking you with his fingers, you moaned as much as you wanted, not caring to hide anymore, it was your only night with him, so you decided to not hold anything.

His mouth went to your nipple, tits falling to the sides of how heavy they were and shaking with his attention to your cunt.

He licked them, first with just the tip of his tongue, but then let it flat so it covered your buds and made you shake even more.

‘’Su- so good’’ you cried.

His fingers were making you dizzy, and you had to get up on your elbows to see his hand inside your panties moving to make you cum.

It was hard to see yourself like that, so naked, so exposed.

You couldn’t hide the way your tummy rolls were in front of his eyes, the marks on your skin, or the way your big tits didn’t look perfect on your body, but he seemed to not care, even liking it, guiding his mouth to your nipples again and looking into your eyes when he left soft pecks over them.

‘’You’re going to cum for me, right?’’ he murmured when you started to clench over him.

‘’I-I don’t know’’ you cried, never having an orgasm with your partners before, you didn’t know if that was an orgasm, or what the hell was it.

‘’You’re going to’’ he didn’t ask, ‘’and it’s because of my fingers, so good’’ he pushed his fingers faster and harder, stretching your panties with how brutal he was.

You couldn’t maintain your position and dropped over your back, crying with your walls pulsating around him.

‘’That’s it, so fucking good, my good girl’’ he said still moving his fingers.

You tried to push his hand away, eyes rolling to the back of your head and tears falling down your cheeks of overstimulation, and he stopped when you left a singular loud cry out, but only to take off your messed underwear and toss the towel wrapping his hips.

He let you take a second to breathe properly again, and pushing up your legs, he made you show him your glossy cunt, lips open and ready for him.

He couldn’t help it, it was all shiny and pretty, he had to taste it a little bit, and sinking to his knees over the floor, he pulled your body to the border of the bed, mouth going directly to your pussy.

Drinking your orgasm, the slurping sound was so nasty you had to put your hands over your face, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

‘’That’s too much’’ you tried to stop him, but he, mouth still stuck to your entrance, and nose poking at your clit, denied with his head, smearing your arousal over his face.

‘’You have no idea all the things I want to do to you’’ he replied, pushing his thumb to your opening, and pressing his tongue over your clit this time.

You cried, hands going to his wet hair and trying to pull him away, but he was stronger than you, and you never had a chance to stop him.

You couldn’t fight him, so you wanted to finish quickly instead, hips jolting to feel him more and grasp that sweet second orgasm you felt coming.

About to call his name, he separated and said something before going back to his work.

‘’Lee Tang’’ he said, and that was enough for you to know what he meant.

That was his name, not Gyeong-su, but Lee Tang, and you thought, that fits him a lot more.

‘’Lee… Tang’’ you said as you could, and then the only thing that came out of your mouth was a ton of Tang, Tang, repeating proudly his real name.

You were so close that you could feel your toes curling, walls ready to let your orgasm free and relax again, and your back was curving, your body needing to cum once again because of him.

But he was so cruel.

He stopped, and getting up his knees, he thumbed your clit, flicking the little button a couple of times before he slid his dick between your lips, making you feel his length resting over you.

‘’Please, I’m so close, please’’ you saw the light of your room above him, watching his dark eyes examine you, searching for another answer in your eyes.

You left a disappointed cry when he, instead of touching, walked away to grab his jacket hung next to yours, and sitting, you saw him pull a little box from his pocket.

So that’s why he made me wait for him outside, you thought, he didn’t want you to see what he was buying.

Opening the film package, you saw him sliding the condom over his member with experience, walking back at you and showing you how it looked, slightly jumping over the air, standing hard and thick, and pushing you to your back again, he pressed his tip on your entrance, making you clench over it, and nodded to your past pleading. ‘’You deserve it’’ he said before pushing his member inside.

He didn’t let you adjust, but you didn’t need it, you just wanted him to keep moving, and soon that soft pace wasn’t enough for you.

‘’Fuck’’ you couldn’t hold the curses in your throat.

It felt so good, the weight of his member inside, pushing the limits of your walls, taking what he wanted from you, it was so good your hands searched for something of him to grip, finding his hands over your hips to maintain you in your place for him.

‘’Tang, so good, please make me cum’’ you cried.

One of his hands interlocked with yours, helping you find comfort between all the intense sensations your insides were feeling.

You looked so good under him, your chubby torse facing him, showing him everything he wanted to see, and your thighs jiggling with each of his thrusts.

You were close, and so was he, but he needed something more, a little thing that had been wandering inside his mind since he started to see you differently.

‘’Can you turn for me?’’ he asked, needing to see your pretty ass taking him.

Not answering, you immediately crawled further in your bed, and searching for your pillow, you hugged it, pressing your face to your bedsheets and showing him your ass without any ounce of shame left.

‘’Fuck me’’ you begged again, opening your lips with your fingers and showing him your entrance gaping around nothing, ‘’Tang, please fuck me.’’

His breath stopped, he had never seen something that bold and hot before, and he admired your needy side calling for him to calm you.

Going to you, he pushed his entire length inside, bottoming out and pushing it inside in a single thrust to see your gorgeous back and thick thighs trembling with his cock.

You were crying and hugging your pillow, shoulders becoming smaller and one of your hands on your back searching for his to hold it again.

Lee Tang, not daring to ignore you, his good girl, like that, held your hand.

‘’You’re the one who wanted me to fuck you, and now you can’t take it?’’ he teased, not liking how much he was spoiling you.

‘’No, I can take it, please don’t stop’’ you implored, feeling his hard and fast thrusts pushing your sanity away.

He didn’t care how weak he was to you, feeling your walls wrapping around him like that was like nothing he had felt before, watching the curves of your waist interrupted with your little fat rolls, your ass bouncing against his pelvis with his strength, taking his cock like a gift, and your hand not letting him go even with how hard he was being with you, was everything he ever needed.

Hearing your sweet moans and cries all out when you came, with your sweet walls fluttering around him, pushed the last string inside him, and he pressed his cock inside you to let everything out in the condom.

‘’Tang-‘’ you gripped his hand harder.

‘’Yes baby, I’m cumming’’ he exhaled, letting all inside you.

 ‘’Okay’’ you said happy.

He wished he could stay connected to you forever, but he couldn’t, and he had to pull out of you to make sure the condom, and you, were alright.

Going to the bathroom to toss it in the trash, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, not recognizing himself with how relaxed he looked.

Tense all the time, he saw his eyes drowsy, ready to rest the whole night.

You, lying on your side to catch your breath, hoped that he could at least spend this night with you, his last night there, but maybe that was too much to ask.

When he came you didn’t look at him, and he simply accommodated behind you, spooning you with a hand over your tummy, letting his hand land there, and sighed.

‘’Let’s get inside the covers, the night is cold’’ he murmured, and you followed his request.

Under your bedsheets, a lot warmer thanks to the fabric and his skin, your mind started to drift away, so you looked at him one last time before falling asleep, closing your eyes when he left a last kiss over your lips.

When you woke up you were alone, feeling incredibly sore, and sad.

You stood up to drink a glass of water, not thinking much about how lonely you felt, concentrating on what would you do later that day to fill your head.

Would you be able to stay? You doubted it, you had too many memories here, and maybe the driver was right, all of you would leave one day.

You were about to go back to bed when you saw a little note next to your electric kettle.

I’ll come back in three weeks was written, and you closed your eyes, happy to not be abandoned again.

You had to stay so he could find you, that was your home now.

[soulofapatrick]

Moonlight Confessions - Jeremiah Fisher x Reader

Summary: You can't sleep so slip into bed with Jeremiah like you used to do as kids

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: none, just fluff

Notes: I have a new character obsession but ill still write alll my old characters I promise

Y/N’s POV

The night hangs heavy around me as I lie in bed, surrounded by the hushed symphony of the beach house settling into the quietude of the late hour. Moonlight spills though the half-closed curtains, casting ethereal shadows on the wall. The rhythmic murmur of the waves serves as a lullaby, yet instead of being soothing, it only accentuates the restlessness within. 

I toss and turn, the sheets twisting around me like a futile attempt to escape the grip of insomnia. The wooden floorboards beneath creak softly in response to my every movement, the house itself seemingly alive with memories and secrets. The air is thick with the scent of salt, a subtle reminder of the proximity of the ocean just beyond the windows. 

A gentle sigh escapes me, and I sit up, the moonlit room offering a muted palette of grass and blues. The sea breeze slips through the open window, carrying with it the salty tang of the ocean and a faint hint of sunscreen lingering on my skin from a day spent under the sun. It’s a scent that feels like summer, a tangible reminder of days filled with laughter and quiet moments. The beach house, usually echoing with the laughter of friends that have become family and the clinking of glasses, is now draped in a serene quietness. The only sounds are the distant waves, the occasional creaks of the house, and the soft rustle of leaves outside the window. The night is alive with a different kind of energy, one that invites introspection and quiet contemplation. 

I glance at the clock; its numbers glow faintly, indicating the lateness of the hour. Frustration wells up within me as the thoughts in my head refuse to quiet down. The weight of uncertainty presses on my chest, and the moonlight, once a friend, now feels accusatory, illuminating the shadows of doubt. 

With a resigned sigh, I slip out of bed, the coolness of the wooden floor soothing against my bare feet. The moonlit room is empty, and the stillness is almost palpable I find myself standing by the window gazing out at the silver expanse of the ocean, debating whether to go for a late night swim. The rhythmic lull of the waves seems to beckon, promising a brief escape from the tangled thought that refuse to let go. 

However, a different impulse guides me tonight. There’s a yearning for connection, for a presence that might understand my sleeplessness. My bare feet carry me down the hallway, each step a whisper against the aged floorboards. The soft glow of the moonlight follows me, casting a silvery trail towards Jeremiah’s room. 

I hesitate for a moment, hand resting on the doorknob, wondering if I’m intruding. But the pull is undeniable, and with a gentle push, the door opens. The room is awash in the same moonlight, giving it an almost magical ambiance. My eyes find Jeremiah’s form, asleep and seemingly at peace. He lies sprawled across the bed, one arm flung lazily over his head, the other resting against the pillow. The soft rise and fall on his chest speaks of a deep, undisturbed slumber. Moonbeams play on the edges of his tanned features, casting gentle shadows that dance in tandem with the ebb and flow of the ocean outside. 

In the quiet room, I can hear his rhythmic breathing, a sound that harmonises with the distant waves. The worries etched onto his face during waking hours are softened in the moonlight, leaving behind the serenity of someone unburdened, if only for the night. A smile tugs at my lips as I watch him, realising that the moonlit room holds a different kind of tranquility with him in it. His vulnerability while asleep is endearing, and the knots of restlessness within me begin to loosen. 

With each step, the floor beneath me barely creaking, I move across the room towards him. The moonlight bathes the space in a silvery glow, and as I reach his bedside, I find myself inexplicably drawn to the warmth emanating from his sleeping form. Gently, I lift the duvet, the fabric rustling softly in the quiet room. I slide into the bed beside him, careful not to disturb his peaceful repose. The mattress gives a subtle sigh beneath my weight, and I hold my breath for a moment, hoping to preserve the serenity of the night. 

As I settle beside Jeremiah, the contrast between the coolness of the sheets and the warmth of his presence is palpable. The moonlight paints a soft halo around his features, casting shadows that plat on the contours of his face. His eyelashes rest against him cheeks, and the faint moonlight lines on his skin tell stories only visible when the world is hushed 

I watch him for a moment, laying on my side, facing him, a cascade of mixed emotions washing over me. The quiet intimacy of the moonlit room and the closeness we share creates a bubble, shielding us from the uncertainties of the waking world. 

Unable to resits the urge to touch, I reach out and trace a gentle line along his jaw, my fingertips barely grazing his skin. He stirs, a subtle shift in his breathing, and a small smile plays on his lips as if he sense my presence even in his dreams. 

“Mouse?” He mumbles, my nickname making my cheeks heat up, voice heavy with sleep as his eyes flutter open, adjusting to the dim light. Confusion flickers in his gaze for a moment before recognition settles in, a sleepy smile graces his lips as he meets my eyes, “What’s wrong?” 

“Couldn’t sleep,” I admit, my fingers now tracing aimless patterns across his cheek, feeling the smile as well as seeing it deepen as he shifts to pull me closer to him. 

He wraps his arms around me in a warm embrace, the duvet a soft cocoon around us. The scent of his skin and subtle musk of the room creates a comforting atmosphere, and I rest my head against the curve of his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my cheek. Jeremiah, still half-asleep, responds by pulling me even closer until there’s no space between us. The contours of our bodies fit together as if they were pieces of a puzzle meant to be connected. The room is filled with a quiet intimacy, the kind that words struggle to capture. 

His fingers train through my hair, a gentle rhythmic motion that lulls me into a sense of peace, “You can always come to me,” He murmurs, his voice a soft whisper in the silence. 

A contented sigh escapes my lips as his touch soothes the restlessness within me. He cups my jaw with his hand, his thumb rubbing over my cheek soothingly. The moonlight painting a silver glow on his face, highlighting the warmth in his ocean blue eyes as he gazes at me. 

“Better?” He asks, his voice a gentle hum against my ear. 

I can just nod, feeling a weight lifted off my shoulders in the quiet sanctuary of his arms, replaced with something different. Something so familiar yet foreign, like a feeling I’ve pushed down over and over again until it can’t be contained anymore. My thumb brushing over Jeremiah’s bottom lip tentatively, as if testing a theory and it’s no longer a theory when his breath hitches. 

We linger in that suspended moment, our eyes locked in a silent exchange that speaks volumes. The room is charged with an unspoken understanding, the air thick with anticipation. Neither of us is sure who should make the first move, and the vulnerability that hangs between ys is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. 

My thumb traces a path over Jeremiah’s lips once more, and this time, there’s no mistaking the subtle shift in the atmosphere. It’s a quiet invitation, a whisper in the language of touch that bridges the gap between uncertainty and desire. His eyes, already darkened pools of warmth, flicker with a newfound intensity. His gaze drops to my lips, and in that shared gaze, an unspoken agreement forms. It’s a mutual acknowledgment of something unexplored yet palpable, a connection that has lingered beneath the surface. 

Cautiously, almost tentatively, Jeremiah move his face closer, his breath warming the small space between us. The seconds stretch into an eternity as we hover on the precipice of a moment that could redefine the contours of our relationship.

His lips brush against mine in the softest of touches, a delicate exploration that speaks of uncharted territory. It’s a dance of closeness, of discovering the texture and taste of something that, until now remained in the realm of unspoken possibilities. His lips are warm, molding against mine with a gentle insistence that feels like a secret shared. The touch is soft but laced with a quiet intensity, a magnetic pull that bridges the space between us. There's a tenderness in the way his lips move, as if tracing the contours of a story that has yet to be written. 

The sensation is both electrifying and comforting, a paradox of emotions that bloom in the simple act of this newfound intimacy. His lips are a revelation, unveiling a language that transcends words. Each brush and caress feels like a promise, a silent vow exchanged in the hallowed silence of the moonlit room. 

There’s a faint taste lingering on his lips, a subtle essence that is uniquely Jeremiah. It's a blend of warmth and something indefinable, a taste that imprints itself on my senses like the lingering notes of a melody. It's a flavour that I never knew I craved until this moment, a discovery that adds a new layer to the complexity of our connection.

As we kiss, the world outside the room fades away, leaving only the cadence of our breaths and the quiet symphony of the night. Jeremiah's hand, now placed on my hip, grips me like I’m going to disappear and I’m not much better myself. My hands are tangled in his blond curls and pressed against his chest as he continues to kiss me senseless. 

“Jere,” His name is spoken in less than a breath, as if speaking any louder would break the moment and I just feel his smile against my lips. 

“Yeah?” 

“This isn’t… I like you… I don’t-“ 

He pulls back enough to meet my gaze, an amused look on his face as he watches me fumble over my words, before he whispers out four words I could not be happier to hear: “I like you too.” 

“You do?” 

“Go to sleep Mouse.” 

“Make out with me.” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

TAGS: New Tag List Form

[ellewritesalright]

The Lost Princess - Part 1

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Synopsis: The old Queen Mother of Kerch's former royal family is offering a hefty reward to whoever returns her rumored-to-be-alive granddaughter to her. Kaz being Kaz hears about the reward and hatches an elaborate plot involving a fake princess. Reader is a lowly amnesiac orphan and escaped indenture who flees to Ketterdam where she gets tangled in Kaz Brekker's plot.

A/N: Hello friends!! Here is part one of a series I started writing a few years back but never published. It's inspired by the movie and musical Anastasia. I hope you all enjoy, and I hope it makes enough sense haha

Warnings: sickness, mentions of death, mentions of drowning, mentions of violence. pls let me know if I've missed anything

Word Count: 2056

..........

It was happening again.

You sat upright in the bed of your cheap lodgings, swinging your legs to the side and touching the floor. The threadbare rug was itchy against your toes as you took deep breaths, a desperate attempt at grounding yourself. Still, the dizziness did not subside. It came along every so often, never without the cryptic nightmares. There was always vertigo and memories of plunging into dark waters.

At least, you thought they must be memories. There was a significant gap in your mind from birth to the age of about ten, and the first thing you could remember was waking up on a fishing boat on the True Sea. The fishers handed you over to their boss, a wealthy merchant named Devisser, once you made port, and you were made to work for him in a fifteen-year indenture. You had worked as a scullery maid in that man's second home on the southern shores, but you managed to escape your indenture five years early, running off to Ketterdam.

Nowadays you were free to do whatever you pleased--if it was within budget, of course. You had precious little in your life, and you couldn't squander your money in the gambling dens of the city. 

You had to be smart if you were to make it to Os Kervo. Another maid at the house had said that there was a better chance of smuggling yourself to Novyi Zem than to find a safe passage to Ravka, but you didn't let her sway you. You had to get to Os Kervo. It was difficult to explain, but you felt instinctively that someone was waiting there for you. In your dreams, the better and brighter ones where you could feel the warmth of arms around you, there was a voice that whispered, "I'll meet you there, my little tiger. We'll be together in Os Kervo."

The only trouble was how you could get there. You had no travel papers or identification, and it was difficult to obtain any--even fake ones--with such little money. It was a difficult position you were in. 

So you went about your life, picking up odd jobs using fake names. Your name is already fake as it was. The surname, Vos, was given to you by one of the more kind fishers who pulled you from the water. He gathered a mound of blankets around you and sat with his arm around you, trying desperately to keep you warm. Sometimes you wondered about him, wondered whether he was still fishing for Devisser. Perhaps if the captain of that ship had not seen fit to hand you over to their boss the kind fisher would have taken you in. Life might have been better if you had been offered a chance at a family instead of an apron and a crushing daily workload. 

Your feet carried you to the wardrobe in this shabby lodging room. You had to sweep a spider off your jacket before you slipped it on. The morning air was a nice reprieve against your warm face as you walked down the streets. Shops were opening, food vendors were starting the fire in their ovens; Ketterdam was waking up.

You meant to walk further than the Barrel, but you stopped as you saw the window of some sort of pawn shop. There was a dress in the window. It was the emerald green of a kind of fabric you had never owned but knew instinctively would be smooth to the touch, like a flat stone one might skip on the ocean. There was something so familiar about the short ruffles of the over-the-shoulder sleeves; perhaps you had seen a guest at the big house wearing something similar when you used to spy from the door to the servant's quarters. 

There was no way you would be able to purchase such a beautiful gown, you barely had enough money to get by as it was, but you were drawn into the shop because of it. You had to spend some more time around it and the other beautiful items in the shop. You hadn't been around such lavish things since… well, never.

The bell above the shop door jangled, alerting a woman at the counter to your appearance. She smiled, but the sight struck you in the chest. As an amnesiac orphan, you learned early on that people saw you as weak, helpless, and naive. For your youth and lack of guidance, you were perceived as easy pickings, and people tried their tricks on you more often than you could count, especially here in Ketterdam. You'd learned to tell what was genuine and what was fake when you interacted with others, and the woman's smile was the first real smile you'd seen in a long time. 

"A beautiful dress for a beautiful young lady," the woman said.

You shook your head with a pleasant enough smile. "I was just looking. I could never afford such a thing."

"And yet here you are in my shop." She followed your eyes to a case of assorted valuables. When she saw the dull music box you stared at she hummed. "Would you like to know a secret?" You turned to her "That music box is from the old palace. It belonged to the missing princess herself, I swear on Ghezen and the saints."

You pondered the validity of her words, keeping a level expression so as not to upset her with your doubt. Everything you heard about the dead royal family seemed like it happened a lifetime ago, and no amount of rumours about one of their daughters being alive somewhere would make it any less a ghost story. 

Still, you smiled politely. Despite her pleasant expression, she was only trying to sell you something, something you would not need even if you could have it. It wasn't even the most eye-catching thing in the display, just a decrepit old music box of tarnished silver. The music probably didn't even play anymore.

"It's lovely," you lied, "though I don't believe I could afford it."

"I could give you a special deal. I like to think there's something in my shop for everyone. The music box deserves to go home with you."

"That's generous, but--truly--I cannot make a purchase."

She tilted her head at you. "What is it you want, my dear? You've come into my shop, looked around, and you have the nerve to refuse my generosity--what is holding you back?"

"I've already told you," you said, "I couldn't afford it."

"And if I gave something for free?"

You brushed her off. "That's a terrible business model."

"Perhaps. But I like you, little runaway that you are. You're a long way from home--you deserve something nice."

You felt your pulse quicken. She shouldn't have known that. You weren't on the list of runaway indentures, so the stadwatch wouldn’t be looking for you. You breathed in before you could turn to her, balancing your composure with great care. Emotions were not useful in situations like this. "What brought you to that conclusion?"

"You keep your head down, which is normal in the Barrel, but you're not doing it out of habit, you're doing it out of fear. You must be hiding from something--from someone."

She was apt, you'd give her that. The trouble was figuring out the degree to which you could trust her. She could sell you back to Devisser in a second if she wanted to, but she could also be willing to help you. After all, she did say she liked you. You looked her in the eyes and then spoke.

"I'm trying to get to Ravka. The thing is, I don't have the money for travel papers, be they legal or illegal. I can't afford even that, and I could never afford anything in your shop." You straightened out, about to leave. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time--"

"Brekker can help you."

You stopped in your tracks. 

“He can get you to Ravka, no travel papers necessary.”

You faced her again, questioning, “Where can I find this Brekker?”

“He owns a club down the road from here. The sign has one of those annoying blackbirds on it.”

“A raven?”

“No, a pesky crow.” She fiddled with a set of keys around her neck. “Anyways, he can help you on your way. I assure you.”

“How much will this information cost me?”

“Nothing, my dear. I hope you make it to Ravka.”

You thanked her, ducking your head as you left the shop. You kept a wary eye about you as you wove through the streets, finding your way back to your lodgings. There was little trust in such a wicked city as Ketterdam, specifically here in the barrel, and you were constantly looking out for any sign of danger. The shopkeeper wasn’t dangerous, not from what you could tell, but you had to keep your wits. One false move and you could be sent back to Devisser. 

You couldn’t let that happen.

..........

Kaz stepped out from the back of the shop after the bell above the door rang out once more, signifying your departure. He was lucky to have been behind a particularly packed shelf furthest from the door, else you would have seen him and wouldn’t have explained your plan to Eugenia, the shopkeeper. Eugenia, for her part, did well to nudge you in the direction of the Crow Club. Undoubtedly she would want some credit for that, he knew. And, just as he thought, she brought it up as soon as he reappeared. 

"I've found your missing princess for you, Kaz," Eugenia smirked. "And how valuable she'll be for you."

"You didn't do anything for me, Eugenia. She'll be just as impossible as the others," he retorted.

He'd been auditioning young women to play the part of the missing princess for months now. Ever since he'd heard of a hefty reward posed by the old duchess and grandmother to the princess, he'd devised a plan, learning everything he could about the toppled royal family.

"I think she's the one. Do you know why?"

He kept his stare neutral, but the disapproval remained on his lips in permanence. Eugenia liked to speak as though she knew best, leading tourists and tramps into traps as she sold them tin under the guise that it was rare silver. Even wisdom offered by her would be false.

She continued. "She'll play the part--and she'll be damn good at it--because she's desperate. Desperation makes us do what we otherwise would not."

He tilted a brow at her. "What do you want?"

"Waive six months of my rent," she said. There was no way she thought that he would accept this deal. He didn't even have confirmation that you would find him or that you would be willing to go through with his masquerade. Eugenia was a fool.

"If she is a good fit for the princess, I will waive one month of your rent," he bargained.

"Hold on, she is going to make you a million Kruge--I deserve more than a month for that."

Kaz frowned at her, leaning into his cane. Who was she to make demands? "Firstly, there's no guarantee that she can do the job. Secondly, even if she is a good fit, I don't owe you anything. You decided to send her to me before you thought to broker a deal; I don't owe you a thing." 

She thumbed at her ring of keys. Eugenia was upset with herself and with him, he could tell. 

"If she can play the part," Kaz said, straightening out, "I am willing to waive three months of your rent on the condition that you supply me with whatever I might need from this shop free of cost."

"Whatever you need for the job, right? I can't just give you anything you want from now on."

He nodded. "Just for the job. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal."

Kaz left the shop without the rent that he'd initially come to collect, but with something much more valuable if he played his cards right. He'd only caught a glimpse of you, but he was inclined to believe what Eugenia said. Desperation makes us do what we otherwise would not, and you had sounded plenty desperate.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in the other parts of this series please comment on this part or send me an ask. And if you want to request a fic, please feel free to send in an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist

Part 2

Tags: @justvibbinghere @happyhauntt

[aurumacadicus]

Remember this post? Anyway I finished binging Miss Fisher again again.

—

Steve had thought that he’d touch base with the event planner once they got Tony’s reluctant permission to run their counter-operation. Instead, he got called into the conference room with Peggy and Natasha, where they sat in various levels of impatience and confusion for twenty minutes before Coulson opened the door and dipped himself into a slight bow. “This way, Mr. Stark.”

“You’re cute when you have to treat me with respect,” Tony purred, tipping his head to give Coulson a wink. “Might have to snatch you from that cellist in Portland.”

Coulson looked simultaneously exhausted and amused. “If you meant that, I’d run screaming for the hills.”

“Rude!” Tony scoffed, but he didn’t look put out. He turned his attention to the conference room, mouth spreading into a wide, bright smile. “Oh! You actually came.”

“You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago, Tony,” Peggy said sharply.

Tony shrugged, not looking scared at all as he strutted further into the room and slammed the thick binder he was carrying on the table. Steve stared at it, for some reason feeling daunted. It hadn’t been slammed because Tony was angry. It had been slammed because it was heavy. He feared his next few nights would be spent cramming whatever information Tony had brought into his memory.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Tony answered when Peggy began tapping her heel impatiently. His welcoming smile was gone, replaced with an unimpressed, flat line. “And let’s be clear, here, Ms. Carter: If you expect to be able to attend my charity gala, you have to play ball with me.”

“Tony,” Peggy began, though Steve couldn’t tell if she was angry about the threat or being called ‘Ms. Carter.’

“I think you misunderstand how much power you have here,” Tony cut in, brows furrowing down into a scowl. “It’s my mother’s gala, and I’m in charge. I could have any SHIELD agent you send barred from entering. There is nothing you can do to force your way in. I have been coordinating this gala for seven months, four under my mother’s careful eye, and I think I should be clear about this, too: My mother is angry at you, too.”

Peggy gaped at him for a moment, and only after he opened his thick binder and began looking through papers did she manage to bark out, “WHY?!”

Tony slanted a glance up at her, then looked back down at his papers. “Do you think I invited you to anything of importance without my mother’s permission? You didn’t even send your regrets for missing my coming out party.” He looked back up at her, cheek twitching against the urge to smile. “She could forgive all the other invitations, they were informal, but to not even RSVP to her only son’s coming out party was a step too far.”

“I can’t stand it,” Peggy hissed, but she did look slightly regretful.

Tony shrugged, unperturbed. “Maybe you’re lucky it’s me. I think Mom would have taken your head clean off your shoulders if she saw you in her house. Here it is!” He smiled smugly and pulled a paper from a plastic sleeve, slapping it onto the table between all of them. “You’ll need this when you go get your clothes.”

“SHIELD has perfectly adequate facilities for making sure our agents fit in undercover,” Peggy began.

Tony rolled his eyes, hard. “Oh my god, Aunt Peggy, you cannot show up to a gala in government-salary clothes when the going rate is ten thousand dollars a plate.”

Against his will, Steve let out a sound as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He felt like he had. He was well aware of the fact that inflation was a thing. He’d been about knocked on his ass when he’d finally been allowed to go grocery shopping and found a carton of milk was almost four dollars. He knew he had a knee-jerk reaction based on his forties sensibilities, but ten thousand dollars still seemed like an awful fucking lot. He glanced at Peggy and Natasha. Natasha didn’t look shocked, but Peggy’s face twitched minutely before relaxing back into an impassive mask. She might have known it would cost, but not that much.

“That’s part of the reason I’m late,” Tony continued, mercifully only sparing him a slightly-disgusted look before he turned his attention back to flipping through his binder. “This close to the gala, all of the tailors you can afford are packed. But I have a friend willing to fit you in as a favor to me. She can make your agents look bespoke while still leaving room for your weapons. She thinks it will be a fun challenge.” He made a face at one of the papers, then flipped the page with a snap that seemed offended, somehow. “Unfortunately, because you left your request so late, she’s only able to fit in two suits and one dress. She could perhaps squeeze in a third suit, but you didn’t hear that from me. Just make sure to flatter her a lot and she’ll probably do it.”

“Mr. Stark,” Natasha finally said.

Tony paused, slanting his gaze in her direction. When she didn’t continue, he added, “Yesss?”

“When you said you’d have any SHIELD agent barred, how could you be so sure?” she asked after a small pause.

Tony blinked at her, confused, before answering, “Oh, I hacked into SHIELD years ago.”

Peggy immediately swiveled her gaze toward him, aghast. The shock quickly gave way to anger, though, and she began, “Anthony Edward Stark—”

Tony scowled back. “I fixed the holes in your security once I was in, I don’t see what the problem is. Maybe if you came to one of my dissertations, you would have known it was in cyber security.”

Peggy stared at him, apparently too shocked and appalled to even speak.

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly. “Cyber security? That’s… neat. I’m sure that’s why Stark Industries’ firewall is so. Robust?”

Tony turned to blink at him, ire giving way to confusion. “Did you just call a firewall robust?”

“I’m not a tech guy,” Steve grumbled immediately.

“Anyway yes. It is,” Tony said, dismissing him as quickly as he’d paid attention to him. “Don’t send Roger. The debutantes will eat him alive.”

Steve wondered if leaving people speechless and whiplashed was an omega thing or just something entirely unique to the Stark family. He was offended, but he also never would have imagined what to say.

Natasha’s lips spread into a smug grin. “Oh, but Mr. Stark. Surely you’re still looking for a date.”

Tony turned his attention to her, finally looking at least slightly wrong-footed and somewhat offended. “Why would you assume that about me?”

“You’ve been working tirelessly for seven months to set up this gala to make your mother proud,” she continued, ignoring his question expertly. “You haven’t had time to do the requisite song and dance expected from people of your… tax bracket.” She glanced at Steve, looking like the cat who got the cream, and he felt a terror fill him that he couldn’t quite understand. “But if you arrive with Roger, it’ll explain why you haven’t looked for a date. You’re unmarried, Mr. Stark. Surely by showing up stag to the event you planned, unmated alphas will be champing at the bit to be able to be your dance partner for the night. You wouldn’t be able to do any investigative work because you’d be getting your toes stomped on the dance floor the entire night. And Roger might insult one of your wealthy omega friends accidentally. He’s not good at flirting on a good day, and with high society omegas, he’d absolutely tank the donations you would receive, because how could you let such a buffoon into your event?”

“Buffoon,” Steve repeated, offended, but she just shrugged in a ‘but am I wrong?’ kind of way.

Tony was slowly beginning to lose his cool, Steve noticed when he turned to tell him he wasn’t actually hopeless at glad-handing and his ‘aw shucks’ vibe actually seemed to delight most omegas. His knuckles had gone white with how tightly he’d gripped them into fists, and his cheeks had flushed the tiniest shade of pink. He couldn’t keep a smug or even blasé look on his face, and reluctantly, he turned his gaze on Steve. Finally, he ground out, “If Jan says it’s okay,” then slammed the binder shut and shoved it across the table to Peggy. “Make your agents study that like it’s the bible,” he added sharply. “If even one complaint gets to me about how they’ve insulted someone, I’ll tank your entire system, including backups.”

“Tony,” Peggy tried, but he was already up out of his seat and storming out the door. Even Coulson looked startled when the door banged off of the wall with the force of him opening it.

Steve got the sinking feeling that Tony really didn’t like to lose and he was going to make them pay dearly for being right about his dates.

“Howard and Maria are going to be so furious when they see your pictures in the paper, Steve,” Peggy said, anger giving way to despair, and Steve had no idea why she was so worried about that when she should be worried about Tony stabbing him at the gala.

[mrs-stans]

Sebastian Stan Appreciates Taking Things 'A Little Less Seriously'

The actor caught up with L'OFFICIEL at the CFDA Fashion Awards to discuss wearing Thom Browne and his transformative roles in A Different Man and The Apprentice.

by Carrie Wittmer

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

Photography: Ryan Lowry Stylist: Michael Fisher Grooming: Amy Komorowski

On camera and off, Sebastian Stan is always aware of what he is wearing, whether he's suited up as the Winter Soldier in Captain America or sporting jeans and a T-shirt on a day off. The actor— who stars in and is winning over buzz for his transformative performances in A Different Man and The Apprentice—represented Thom Browne at the 2024 CFDA Fashion Awards on October 28 in New York City at the American Museum of Natural History. For the event, Stan wore a full Thom Browne look: a classic ticket pocket tuxedo with self-tipping in black, 3-ply mohair; a knit vest in black cashmere; a classic button-up shirt in white oxford; a necktie in black silk faille; and penny loafers in black patent leather.

In A Different Man, Stan plays an aspiring actor with neurofibromatosis who has facial reconstructive surgery that dramatically alters his appearance. In The Apprentice, Stan plays former President Donald Trump in a film that follows his rise to power, focusing on his mentor-mentee relationship with lawyer Roy Cohn, portrayed by Jeremy Strong from Succession. Stan received critical acclaim for his performances in both films, and is now a likely contender for the upcoming awards season.

At the CFDAs, Stan told L’OFFICIEL about his look for the night, his connection to Thom Browne, and how clothing and costumes impact his performances. Read on for the interview.

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

L’O: Tell me about your look for the CFDA awards.

Sebastian Stan: Thom Browne’s take on black tie-not traditional, polished in a new way and comfortable while being structured. I appreciate taking things a little less seriously, especially during awards season. I love my straight tie and knit vest—less serious, but certainly not less appropriate.

L'O: How would you describe your off-duty style? What do you wear on a day off?

SS: Jeans and a tee shirt.

L’O: What character that you’ve played is most likely to wear Thom Browne?

SS: Carter Baizen would wear the hell out of a Thom Browne suit.

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

L’O: Your roles in A Different Man and The Apprentice are very physical performances... and so is Bucky Barnes. How do you approach creating a character’s physicality?

SS: It all actually starts from the inside out. Muscles have memory. We wear our pains, our pride, our truth: the ones we project and the ones we keep hidden from the world. It all depends on what’s driving somebody…The need for love, the need to be heard, the need to prove, the need to hide, etc. Everything influences how you move and you walk. Obviously when you’re playing real people the clues are already there to study. Like an instrument. With something like A Different Man, there’s a backstory and the prosthetics influenced everything. Similar with Bucky Barnes. His past is always in his body.

L’O: How do clothes and costumes enhance your performance?

SS: I love costumes because they speak for themselves. When you walk in a room immediately people look at you and what you’re wearing tells a story. The choices one makes in terms of portraying themselves to the world are very revealing. So costumes are a big piece of the character before any words are even said. They also influence the way you walk. I’m particular about shoes. What kind of shoes a character wears. Sneakers make you walk a certain way boots a totally different way. Maybe you stand up taller as a result and so on. Same with clothes. A suit affects everything. So does a pair of jeans you’ve lived in for a decade.

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

[donnadsltwmart]

Something I made for Billie Lourd (Carrie Fisher's daughter) #billie #billielourd #carriefisher #debbiereynolds #mom #grandmother #grief #loss

[multifandomfix]

Imagine putting out a small fire and Cristina getting jealous over everyone fawning over you.

You’re at the station when the call comes in. A fire at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital. It doesn’t sound like anything major, a small fire in one of the break rooms by the sound of it, but protocol is protocol. Your team suits up quickly, and you head out, sirens blaring as you weave through the Seattle traffic.

When you arrive, the fire is already under control, just a few small embers left to take care of. The hospital’s sprinklers have done most of the work, but there’s still smoke and the smell of burnt plastic lingering in the air. You lead your team inside to take care of what was left.

As you walk through the corridors, you can feel the eyes on you. Nurses and doctors alike can’t help but glance your way. It’s not every day they get to see a firefighter up close, especially not one who carries themselves with such confidence. As you work, you catch snippets of conversation from the hospital staff nearby.

“Wow, look at that firefighter. Do you think they’re single?”

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t mind finding out.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself, but you stay focused on the task at hand. You’re here to do a job, not to entertain people’s hero worship. And really, you were hardly a hero here. More like clean up crew.

When the job was done your team was packing up and you had all stepped back into the hall. Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice. Cristina Yang strides down the hallway with her usual intensity and she spots you immediately, her eyes narrowing slightly as she notices all the attention you’re getting.

“Hey, you,” she says, walking up to you and slipping her hand into yours. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just a small fire. Nothing we couldn’t handle,” you reply, giving her a reassuring smile.

Cristina looks around, her gaze sharp and unmistakably possessive. “Good. Because I don’t want anything happening to my partner.” She increases her volume deliberately on the last two words to make sure everyone knew you were spoken for, even if she didn’t usually use the label for what you were to her.

You can see the looks on the faces of the hospital staff. Surprise, a bit of disappointment, but mostly respect. Cristina Yang is not someone to be trifled with, and it’s clear to everyone that you’re very much off the market.

“Alright, everyone, back to work,” Cristina snaps at the onlookers. “There’s nothing to see here.”

As the crowd disperses, you squeeze Cristina’s hand. “Jealous?”

“Me? Jealous? Please,” she scoffs, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips. “I just don’t like it when people don’t know their boundaries.”

You laugh softly, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Well, thanks for making it clear. I think they got the message.”

Cristina grins, pulling you closer. “Good. I’ve had enough of sharing you for one day.”

You smile back at her, enjoying this side of her, and the hospital staff was now fully aware that you belonged to Cristina Yang. You really couldn’t be happier.

For anon

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @bitchr-mkay, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure, @og-kxsh-420

Cristina Yang: @riveranddoctorsong123, @unexpected-character, @jona-lea, @thenazwife, @mysticdaydreamer7, @ourlifeforchaos, @geekyandgay98, @melliemat3416, @thekirbishow, @astrogrande

[x-gabrielle-x]

Tides Of Survival | 2

Pairings: Finnick Odair x Reader.

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, murder, swearing, major and minor injuries, death, (eventual) smut, mentions of prostitution.

Summary: The white swan of the Capitol; gracious, elegant, and innocent. You catch many of the Capitol's attention in your games, whether that was due to your agility, cleverness, or looks in all, even managing to capture the gaze of your young mentor and old friend, Finnick Odair.

Series Masterlist | Pinterest Board

One thing that Finnick Odair had learnt the last few years of knowing you, was that you were a fast swimmer. It was no surprise that most swimmers in District Four were fast, but you certainly had a way with the water.

Finnick watched from a distance as you kicked your legs softly, floating on your back and feeling the water move between your fingers with every stroke. You swam with an elegance that allowed for the current to carry you easily, reminding him of a bird resting atop the water. He marvelled at how graceful you were even when swimming within the crashing waves. Whilst most fought against the current, you glided effortlessly as if the ocean itself was bent to your will.

The sun was already setting in the distance, casting a yellow and orange hue over the rippling water. It was cold to the touch, but you didn’t seem to mind all too much considering just how long you’d been swimming. Even when you glanced up at him, quirking an eyebrow in question, he couldn't resist the small smile that crept onto his lips.

"Are you going to come in or sit there and be boring, Odair?" Your tone was teasing, though it carried its playful and airy nature.

Finnick brushed the sand off from his legs and instinctively glanced over his shoulder, a habit born from years of caution. You were on the more hidden side of District Four, having found this spot a few years back at the beginning of your friendship. You called it yours, away from the bustling of fishers and roaming peacekeepers. It allowed for the both of you to forget the problems of Panem, even if just for a few hours.

He grinned when you swam closer, lying in the water with your elbows propped up and eyes looking back at him expectantly. Strands of your wet hair clung to your face, cheeks red from the excessive swimming.

"I'll come in," he finally said, walking closer so that his feet now met the ocean splashing against him. He sunk deeper into the wet sand with every step.

You rolled your eyes, though they held a mischief behind them when your lips curled into their usual smile. “About time.”

He waved you off. “Waiting for me to save you from drowning?” He teased, but he laughed when you splashed water up at him, the water soaking his shirt which he quickly stripped off and tossed onto the dry sand.

“You forget I’m a better swimmer than you, Odair,” you were quick to retort, dipping your head underwater and coming back up to wipe away at the lingering droplets cascading down the curve of your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, seagull.” He waited for your reaction, easing his body into the water despite the cold that spiked at him. With that same mischievous glint in his eye, he watched your brow twitch, scoffing at the comment and kicking him gently from under the water. A playful gesture.

“A seagull?” You accused. “I would rather fish legs from last week,” you said.

He laughed again at the memory. He had practically begged for you to go with him to fish that day, and begrudgingly you accepted. The sun was warm on both your skin and Finnick stood tall within the water, trident in hand and still. You, however, were lazily playing with the sand, sitting where the tide lapped at your abdomen. Teasingly as always, he had decided to spear into a fish and wave its flopping body around in your face. You pushed and prodded at him, even standing to run away, but your legs had failed you and you went tumbling into the water with a splash that left you both soaking. Fish legs, he had called you in-between belly laughs.

"Maybe I should start calling you floppy fish," you returned with a stifled laugh.

He flopped onto his stomach beside you. “Fine, I’ll take it back,” he said with a chuckle. “But only if you race me to the rock.”

You glanced over, seeing the giant rock you'd both swim out to on occasion. It was a little further out than most, but it was a challenge you couldn’t pass.

You turned back to him, squinting your eyes and resting your finger on your chin in fake thought, humming to yourself lowly. "Don't know, I do tend to beat you every time."

"Well just maybe you could spare me a win, this time," he suggested. He watched as you continued to ponder, shaking your head.

“Can’t do that, Finn. I need to keep up my legacy.”

He wasn’t able to reply with his cocky remarks before you were already delving into the water, slicing through the ocean like a knife. Kicking off the ground, he was quick to follow after you.

By the time he reached the rock, you were already sitting upon it huffing for breath, a wide smile of victory set on your face. Droplets of water trickled down your skin as Finnick pulled himself to sit beside you, grunting when he felt the rough rock scratch against the palms of his hands. You bickered back and forth, and he listened as your laughter slowly died down and left the both of you in a comfortable silence. It allowed for his mind to drift into what was to come tomorrow, unease settling over him as he looked out over the horizon.

“You're acting more quiet today,” your voice was softer now, nearly distant. “What’s wrong?”

You must have noticed the deep frown on his face, and he was quick to relax his features. Swallowing thickly, he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. He hated feeling powerless against the Capitol, hated knowing that neither of you were ever truly free. The games were only proof of that.

He inhaled a breath. “The reaping's tomorrow,” he says, tone matching your own. His voice broke slightly. “I just don’t know what I’d do if it were you.”

You were silent for a moment, words hanging heavily, and for a moment he didn’t think you were going to respond, but then he felt you shift closer into his side. Your hand brushed against his arm reassuringly, like a reminder that you were there with him. He was never alone. Your gaze was soft, almost sad.

“It won’t be,” you attempted to reassure, but even your tone was uncertain. Nobody truly knew the odds of the games. “Plus, if I were to be reaped, my Pa would have something pretty big to say.”

He let a small chuckle slip at your poor attempt at a joke. Glancing over at you, the light eliminating your features, he took a second to admire you; hair cascading down your back in elegant waves despite it being wet, your brows pinched into a small frown, he found himself wishing it were always like this, just the two of you.

“Someday we’ll get out of here, Finn.” He nearly didn’t hear you say it, but he said nothing. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe it could be true.

As the sun continued to lower, the sky darkened into night and specks of small glimmering stars began to appear. Your small jokes and occasional comments began to cease, instead basking in the comfort of each other. You sat up fully from your slumped position, patting his shoulder twice and standing to your feet.

“My Pa will be wanting me home soon,” was all you said with an apologetic smile, reaching out a hand for him to grab and helping him to his feet.

He nodded, a smile stretching wide onto his face when he saw just how tired you were.

“Same time tomorrow, then?” Finnick squeezed your hand before letting go. You nodded with a gentle smile before slipping into the water and making your way back to shore.

Even as you got a head start, Finnick couldn’t help but wonder. Swimming within the calm ocean, he realised your grace and poise weren’t meant for bloodshed and chaos.

A swan, he thought with a smile. It suited you perfectly.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

please write some conrad fics, the tag has been DRY

Is there a Aaron Dessner that has produced that is not heartbreaking? The Great war, Tolerate it, Right where you left me, You’re losing me, Would’ve could’ve should’ve. I have nothing against Jack, but when Aaron is involved, things…hit different.  

The acronym switching from love of my life to loss of my life *UGLY CRYING*

Warnings: heartbreak

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When coming to Cousins for Belly and Jeremiah’s wedding, you knew it would be impossible to go through a whole weekend of wedding festivities without speaking to Conrad. You tried to avoid him, but he was always right there. In the kitchen talking with Laurel. In the living room with Jeremiah and Belly. In the backyard with Steven helping set up the chairs and tables under Taylor’s instructions. 

At least he didn’t come to the wedding with a girl. It would have hurt too much.

‘’I can’t believe our Belly is getting married,’’ you said as you all sat in the living room for the smallest bachelorette party. 

There was no male stripper dancing or crazy alcohol consumption like you see in movies. Just matching pajamas, a plastic ‘bride’ crown Anika got online, and sparkling mocktails. Laurel felt out of place among the younger girls, but it was her daughter’s bachelorette. She couldn’t not be there.

Taylor took a cupcake from the table, all decorated to perfection by you. ‘’I would have never guessed she would be the first of us to marry. We all thought it would be you and Con—’’ She stopped herself when she saw Belly looking at you, realizing that if she finished her sentence it would hurt you. 

A silence fell and a lump settled in your throat. You brought your drink to your lips, wishing there was alcohol in it. Drowning your sorrows in alcohol is not the solution, but it’s good at temporarily numbing the pain.

I thought that too.

Your parents bought their holiday house in Cousins where you were ten and you had known the Fishers and the Conklins since. Susannah had invited you over to play with her kids — to make friends. Although you were closer to Jeremiah and Belly in age, it was Conrad who got along with you the best. He taught you how to play Uno, came to get you when you swam too far at the beach and helped you clean your dress when stained it eating a blue popsicle. He was always nice to you. Patient and caring. As you got older, he was only looking at you. Everyone noticed, but no one said anything. He’s just always been yours. 

Until he wasn’t. 

You didn’t want to sour the ambiance or steal the attention from the bride-to-be, so you got up and excused yourself to the bathroom. You closed the door, feeling the quiet sanctuary of solitude envelop you. Memories of you and Conrad flooded your mind, each more painful than its predecessor. Nothing would ever compare to the pain this breakup felt. 

Leaning against the sink, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, tears welling up and blurring your vision. You tried to make them go away by fanning your eyes, but they overflowed, carrying with them the weight of five years of heartache.

How could it still hurt after all this time?

With trembling hands, you reached for a tissue, dabbing at your eyes, but the tears kept coming. ‘’Please, stop.’’ 

In the morning, you woke up on a blow-up mattress in Belly’s room. Your eyes were sensitive from crying and red. You tried to cover it with eye-drops and makeup, but when you came down for breakfast and Belly pulled you in a tight hug, you knew you didn’t do a great job. 

Jeremiah eyed the two of you, raising an eyebrow and silently asking what was up, but Belly shook her head. 

The rest of the day went without any downpour of tears. A part of the afternoon was spent tanning under the sun and drinking lemonades, relishing in the last moments of tranquility before the evening's rehearsal dinner. The place was going to get filled with family members and other guests soon and it’ll get very crowded. 

Steven joined you in Belly’s bedroom as you were getting ready for dinner, still wet from being at the beach with the boys. He tried to get a kiss from Taylor, but she pushed him off as he was dripping water all over her makeup bag. Jeremiah laughed in the doorway, blowing a kiss to Belly before parting to his own bedroom to change. 

Although you weren’t the only single person in the room, you never felt more alone.  

At the dinner, you sat listening to the speeches about Belly and Jeremiah’s love. Without surprise, Steve made sure to embarrass the couple and Laurel was unable to hold back her tears when her turn came. Childhood stories and teenage anecdotes about their early moments of relationship made the guests laugh and smile. 

Everything seemed to be going smoothly until Adam inadvertently attributed a story to Belly and Jeremiah, when in fact it was about you and Conrad. The frown on Jeremiah’s forehead as his father continued to speak matched Belly, both of them not knowing what he was talking about. 

‘’Eh, Dad, Belly didn’t come to my prom…’’ Jeremiah whispered to his father. ‘’I went to hers and she was wearing a purple dress, not green.’’ 

Adam paused, his realization dawning slowly. ‘’Oh. You’re right. That was Conrad. I caught him and his girl making out outside the house when they came back. Susannah was out of her mind for allowing her to sleep over…’’  

The revelation hung in the air, accompanied by an uncomfortable silence. Your grip on the glass of wine tightened involuntarily, the pressure causing it to shatter in your hand. Shards of glass cut into your skin as crimson droplets mixed with the spilled wine. 

Beside you, Taylor gasped in concern, her eyes widening at the sight. ‘’Oh my god, are you—’’ 

Ignoring the sting of pain and Taylor’s voice, you excused yourself and hurried inside to tend to your injury. You grabbed some paper towels and pressed them over your cuts. 

Unbeknownst to you, Conrad followed after you. As you stood there, watching the white soak and turn red, you felt his presence behind you. ‘’Don’t do that.’’ His touch was gentle as he took your hand and removed the soiled paper towels, placing them on the counter. ‘’Never apply pressure to an injury that’s not clean of debris. You’ll push them further in,’’ he advised, the doctor in him speaking. ‘’Let me see.’’ 

‘’I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,’’ you insisted, attempting to brush off his concern. ‘’Go back to everyone else, it’s almost time for the best man’s speech.’’ 

But Conrad didn’t budge. ‘’Sit here. I need to check if there’s glass in it.’’ he urged, his tone firm yet caring. 

Knowing there was no way out of this, you sat on one of the kitchen stools and let Conrad check your injury. He turned on the kitchen tap and you hissed as the water hit your freshly cut skin, the cool liquid soothing the sharp ache. 

You sat there as Conrad tended to your wound in silence, his fingers gentle as he inspected your hand for any embedded glass fragments. You couldn't help but notice the warmth of his touch and the upgraded woodsy cologne, their familiarity causing your heart to flutter despite the pain. 

His focus was entirely on your hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. It reminded you of that one time you fell from your bike and he patched up your knee and elbow. Once he made sure there was no glass in it, he went to fetch an antiseptic and gauze from the bathroom.  

As he was wrapping it up, you thanked him. A simple ‘thanks’. 

‘’Be careful drinking wine, next time.’’ Conrad meant it as a light teasing, but you weren’t in a mood to laugh.

‘’Don’t say anything. Please,’’ you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. ‘’It hurts seeing you — it really hurts. So much that I didn’t want to come to the wedding, but I couldn’t miss Belly’s big day. I couldn’t do that to her. What type of friend would I be?’’ The weight of your words hung heavy in the air between you, the truth of them echoing in the silence of the room. ‘’But being here, watching her and Jeremiah getting married is killing me because that should have been us,’’ you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. ‘’This house is where we met; every corner holds tons of memories of us and it’s haunting me, torturing me since I got here.’’

‘’I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry—’’ 

‘’You’re sorry? No sorry will be enough,’’ you said. ‘’You told me I'm the love of your life about a million times. You said you would never leave. But you did. I loved you so much— You were it for me, Conrad. It was always you. But now you’re the loss of my life.’’ 

He said your name, but once again, you didn’t let him speak. 

You got down from the stool, the stinging pain in your hand still present. ‘’I should get back outside. Hopefully Laurel knows a way to get blood out of my dress.’’

—

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[darlingi-loveyou]

will solace headcanon time i love my boy

- casual stoner. when he gets breaks from the infirmary, he and drew get weed from behind the dionysus cabin and smoke together. they like to do it on the big house porch because dionysus couldn’t care less—the only reason he doesn’t do it with them is because he’s not sure if it goes against his punishment from zeus—or behind the apollo cabin when chiron’s around. piper has a cart and the two of them take hits from it and talk shit whenever she comes to visit. he doesn’t really smoke around nico though, just because he’s said he doesn’t like the smell (nico doesn’t really care otherwise, since it helps with will’s anxiety), and definitely not around percy because of everything that happened with gabe

- he’s started talking to dionysus about his anxiety, imposter syndrome, and seasonal depression. dionysus wants to talk to him about testing him for mild ocd

- his hair looks like a renaissance painting of patroclus, just blond

- loves his friends so much. he’s their biggest supporter in the entire world and if they didn’t all live at camp, he’d probably try to convince them to all live in a giant house together

- he’s very casually affectionate. he says i love you a lot, but he always means it. hugs and kisses his friends on the cheek. physical touch is his giving love language (he always makes sure he has consent, first, obviously)

- his receiving love language, however, are words of affirmation. he needs to verbally hear that he’s doing a good job—as a friend, as a boyfriend, as a healer, as a son, just in life

- he’s trained himself to be a light sleeper after years of working in the infirmary and becoming head counselor. sometimes his body just wakes himself up in the middle of the night and he has to sit in the infirmary until he’s positive that everything and everyone is fine and he’s literally the only one awake

- similarly, he has a crazy sixth sense of knowing when his stop is if he ever dozes off on public transport, and always wakes up two stops before. he thinks it stems from spending his a lot of his formative years traveling around with his mom while she toured, constantly waking up in new cities

- he iris messages his mom every night and tells her every single detail of his day

- being both a true crime junkie and a medic at a demigod camp, gore has absolutely no affect on him. this boy delivered a baby and has reattached countless limbs; he falls asleep listening to podcasts where twenty-something women talk about serial killers so notorious they have to give a content warning. a Saw trap isn’t going to faze him

- he met maren morris when he was younger and his mom opened for her. he got her signature and is still planning on getting it tattooed, he just hasn’t had a chance

- he has a very high pain tolerance and has a lot of stick-n-pokes, some of which he did himself, including a wonky-looking star that he let nico do and woobeewoo from Adventure Time

- his favorite music artists include kasey musgraves, taylor swift, leith ross, baby fisher, gracie abrams, fiona apple, fleetwood mac, dolly parton, carrie underwood, and troye sivan

- “ribs” by lorde makes him cry

- so does “the bug collector” by haley heynderickx

- he’s terrified of spiders

- he cries when anything at all happens to a dog in a movie. he watched All Dogs Go to Heaven with nico and was a such disaster by the time the credits rolled that the two of them had to sit there for half an hour until he calmed down. he has a core memory of watching Bolt with his mom when he was little and sobbing into her arms at the end. his siblings have expressly forbidden him from ever watching A Dog’s Purpose, for fear that it would literally send him into a deep depression

- kayla literally bought him cargo pants because she was so sick of him wearing shorts in the middle of winter. he’ll never admit it, but they’re his favorite pants he owns

- his fictional crushes are rodrick heffley, both marceline and marshall lee, jennifer check, edward cullen, alice cullen, ella of frell, prince char, nefara de nile, and jade west

- his mom took him to to see a free, outdoors production of Romeo and Juliet when he was twelve and he really liked it. he hates reading, and the combination of dyslexia and shakespeare is interesting to say the least, but he woke up one night missing his mom a lot, and found a copy of the play on one of his siblings’ nightstands, and decided to try reading it for nostalgia’s sake. that lasted about ten minutes. kayla woke up at the crack of dawn to go practice archery alone and found him in the empty infirmary, where he went so he wouldn’t wake anyone up with his glowing, sound asleep in a chair with the book still open in his lap

- it’s easy to forget he’s from texas when you hear his voice after years of living at camp, but a soft southern drawl slips out when he says certain words, and especially when he sings

- his favorite taylor swift eras are debut, fearless, and lover

- he knows how to shoot a gun and has insane aim, much better than when he shoots a bow and arrow. because of this, he feels very strongly about mandating gun laws and safety regulations because he knows firsthand just how dangerous they are. nico has no idea and will’s just waiting for the moment he can surprise him with it

- he has perfect pitch and lowkey doesn’t even realize it

- his handwriting is so atrocious he can’t even read it himself. one time he enlisted nico to take notes for him in the infirmary, but nico’s cursive was almost harder to read than will’s chicken-scratches

- caffeine has almost no affect on him, except maybe spiking his anxiety, but he’s gaslit himself into thinking it keeps him alert

- he’s extremely empathetic, just knows how to put on a brave face

- he has literally no idea how to ask for help. my boy is so used to taking care of everyone that people have to literally beg him to let them help him with work or console him

- he desperately wants a cat