#still riding the high of watching this cast live apparently

[mooremars]

Camelot 2023 Act 2 ramblings about the music and book and also the visuals again because turns out one post wasn't enough.

I still cannot possibly recommend anyone actually read this because it is so absurdly, comically long but I still needed to get even more feelings out.

Act 2, Scene 1: The castle courtyard one year later:

• "We shouldn't be alone together" like girl

• I love how she's almost exasperated by it

• When she fantasized about this all-consuming high-stakes love she probably didn't think about how exhausting it would be to actually live with it all the time

• Like having this conversation every single month does sound exhausting

• The way she's actively trying to drive him out of Camelot, Genny is so much and I respect it

• She's really doing her best in a way that involves truly torturing Lance, he should really do some soul searching about why he loves someone who treats him this way

• "I've trained dogs to chase you"/"And those dogs were fast.. the expression his bark is worse than his bite that wasn't my experience"

• Sorkin slightly breaking the tension of this scene which is so needed

• "You're not English"/"Neither are you"/"I think that changed when I became queen of England"

• I also feel like there is a lot to unpack in this exchange

• "And when would I do that Genny?"

• The angst in that delivery

• If Ever I Should Leave You is so gorgeous

• I think it was Sorkin who basically said that the show doesn't need magic because the songs provide enough magic on their own and this is the perfect example

• Jordan Donica is tremendous

• I knew him from Charmed and it took me a bit to place him but holy shit

• I may have actually seen him before, I'd have to check but regardless I need to be paying attention to literally any theater he does because I want to go

• This applies to all of them, who am I kidding

• Anyway, he's amazing here and I am probably underselling him in this post because I only saw him half the times and so my memories are much less clear

• And my reference is closing which was not him by this point

• And the outro music (? sorry I know nothing about music) is absolutely stunning

• This song is so romantic but also very shallow

• They're fulfilling a version of love that is all big gestures and big feelings but not necessarily substance

• Because they're trying to fill a void in themselves using the other and when you do that, you can't see the person as an actual person

• Just an extension of your unmet need

• Which is too bad because I think if they weren't, they might actually like each other

• But fuck is this song so romantic

• Every lyric is good, the way they're sung, I think I may for the first time have use of the phrase swoon worthy

• Specifically the end

• "I have a thrilling engagement. I'm giving prizes at the potato show. I'm eager to find out what the qualities of a prize winning potato are"/"I'll be at your side Ma'am"/"Thank goodness for that, those potatoes can be dangerous"

• The lines are so funny and her delivery is so heartbreaking, I am suffering

• I do just love Genny so much and she deserves happiness dammit

• "So the rumors are true, the chain of wedlock is so heavy in Camelot it takes three to carry it"

• Mordred coming out with the one liners immediately

• "He's willing to make any old man a knight I see"

• Pelli immediately threatening violence, beautiful

• The whininess of "I shall be busy tomorrow afternoon" and slapping the bench

• Fourteen year old edgelord Mordred

• Very interesting to have him be a year younger than Arthur was when he became king, really underscoring how young he was

• "I was raising by a mother with a fatally broken heart. Makes for a dark childhood"

• Like do we think Mordred is just trying to drum up Arthur's sympathies or is this actually true?

• "And when you speak to the king, you should remember you're speaking to the king"

• Arthur literally never insists on any manner of kingly respect but his son is a little shit that he hates, so he will

• Love that

• "Dispatch to the court, the king has a child he fathered out of wedlock. Problem solved."

• The blackmail just instantly failing is very funny

• Also would love to know how the conversation about this between Genny and Arthur went

• "I'm not ashamed of you. You don't embarass me though it's not for lack of trying."

• That's too generous, Mordred is embarrassing

• "It's always been my wish that you and your mother stay here where I can take care of you both"/"Stay where, in the servants' quarters?"/"In any quarters you like"/"Except the queen's"

• I wonder if Mordred is the one who feels this way or if he's just parroting back what Morgan has said

• "I was a boy when I met your mother"/"And my mother turned you into a man"/"A man named Merlyn turned me into a man"/"That's a new bit of palace gossip"/"No you idiot, he was my teacher"

• Obviously sarcastic Arthur is always a treat and specifically the facial expression and tone of no you idiot

• But just so curious about Morgan and Arthur because Arthur gets pissed at that whole turned into a man bit

• And he has been pretty chill with Mordred being terrible for this whole scene

• He's very much not comfortable with what Mordred is saying and this is the only moment where Mordred gets under his skin and like that is very interesting

• "In this place the law applies equally to everyone"/"Even the king and queen?"/"Especially the king and queen"

• You are literally watching the light bulb pop over Mordred's head and it's played perfectly

• Everyone in this cast is perfect

• The Seven Deadly Virtues has no right to be this funny

• "Making my Beelzebubble burst" is my favorite but really this entire song is great

• It's such a petulant performance and it's perfect

Act 2, Scene 2: The King's study

• Another amazing bit of scene change music

• The intimacy of them spending their evening playing chess together and talking

• Presumably this is just what they do on a lot of nights and I love it

• I feel like there's definitely potential in a their relationship through chess fic

• Someone please

• I firmly believe they are at like a full 50-50 split in terms of who wins

• "Are you really reading while you're chasing me around the board?"/"Sorry I didn't hear you, I was reading and chasing you around the board"

• And his okay in the middle like he knows he set himself up to get mocked

• Making fun of each other is one of my favorite love languages

• Also same structure as Arthur telling her it will seem that she's rooting for Lancelot to lose and she says that's because she is rooting for Lancelot to lose

• It's just a fun little dialouge thing that I enjoy Genny doing

• Makes her lines feel hers

• I love that Arthur has Merlyn's final warning on his mind so naturally he consults Genny

• And then it devolving into a philosophical discussion about what is and is not possible

• "I was 10,000th person to try, how do you explain that?"/"9,999 people loosened it"

• A perfect and funny line that becomes sweet and profound later on, I will never not love that

• "We have greatness in our grasp, humanity does, but for some reason every time we see it we assign the responsibility to some supernatural force. Or to god."

• You would think given the structure of the love triangle that Arthur would be set up to scoff at the idea that god has responsibility for human greatness in contrast to Lance being extremely devout

• And like I do think Arthur and Genny are actually on the same page but I enjoy that she gets to voice that thought

• This is the woman who first ran away and then threw prayer on top after as a little afterthought so yeah perhaps Genny is not the best catholic

• "Perhaps when he died, his soul transmogrified-"/"What did I just say?"

• Arthur immediately needling her and doing that stupid little hand motion on transmogrified

• They're adorable

• "I enjoy seeing you get riled up"

• This is what you say to a woman you're about to call your business partner? In that way?

• I don't know who to blame because I can't tell if the line or delivery is more of the culprit

• No it's the delivery, I have literally put in the audio as proof

• The audacity, I'm obsessed

• He's got it so bad

• Could've had this Genny

• Like Mr. Purity of Soul who thinks women can't possibly understand politics has absolutely never considered the concept of female pleasure, for sure has never heard of foreplay, and definitely believes the clit and g-spot are both myths

• I love Lance but proposition: there's no way that man is good in bed

• Everything else mean I've said about Lance has been out of love but I love Genny and she doesn't deserve mediocre dick

• And yet he's playing by Jordan Donica so it is also valid and understandable

• Sorry, I digress but gotta find the humor in the whole none of them get to be happy business

• But actually I really appreciate that even in this tragic narrative with big ideas and a lot of angst, they get to have fun and be fun

• Even as their relationship is about to hit its breaking point, you can still tell they're not just torturedly in love but they actually like each other so much

• "And while you're enjoying it, let me ask you this... how often do you write to her?"

• Genny is attempting to play it cool but boy is she not

• The little pause between often and write and then to her, oof

• It's so soft but like the hint is there

• The silence while Arthur makes his move on the board, ugh

• "I send a letter a week"/"Every week?"/"Yes"/"For how long?"/"Mordred's fourteen, he came to me when he was ten so four years"/"That's 208 letters"/"I have a responsibility there, I'm trying to do-"/"Do the chivalrous thing"/"Yes"

• It's so painful to hear their deliveries and realize they're having two separate conversations where they're both upset and they don't understand the other person is feeling the same

• Like Genny getting alarmed at 208 letters, Arthur getting frustrated and defensive about it and cutting Genny's last line off, and then Genny delivery of do the chivalrous thing like she's so tired

• It is so besides the point but how exactly was Arthur expecting the fucking soap opera and/or sitcom situation he's trying to create going

• Like his piece of shit kid, his ex who hates him, his wife that he loves whose feelings for him he doesn't have a handle on, and his bestie whose feelings for his wife Arthur definitely does know

• I know castles are very big but I don't think they're big enough to make that situation good for anyone

• "You've never asked me her name"/"Is it Morgan Le Fay?"/"How did you know that?"/"And she's a scientist"

• Genny has been holding this in for a whole year and she's finally ready to use it

• She says it like she's caught Arthur in some kind of lie which obviously she hasn't but I do wonder if she's had this conversation in her head enough times that she's already thinking the worst

• "He blames me for her condition. All the more reason why I want them both to be here at the castle. She needs care."

• That long pause before condition and the way he says it like maybe Arthur also blames himself

• And they're still playing chess throughout this whole thing as if they can pretend that this conversation isn't causing them both pain

• The sound of the pieces getting moved on the board while during the tense silences, yes

• And now we get to me being emotionally destroyed

• This scene is a roller coaster and the writing and acting of it is perfect in every way

• "We're more than king and queen, you and I. Don't you think?"

• He's so unsure, he's always so unsure it is torture

• The emphasis on you

• But also he does in some way recognize that she's upset about Morgan and he gets so close but spectacularly fails

• Genny is so hopeful on the "Yes, yes I do"

• Him stammering out and Genny trying one more yes to get him to come up with something

• And then that something is business partners

• In my brain I am screaming

• I have done nothing but make fun of Arthur for business partners (and friends) since I first saw this show and I will continue to do it now

• However I do think that for him, in the context of his experience being thrust into royalty, he is actually expressing a very romantic sentiment

• He meets Genny and tells her about Camelot and she doesn't think she's worthy of that

• But here he's affirming that she is, that she's his partner in this and he recognizes her worth

• They talk in the second scene and she mentions that as a princess she doesn't have friends

• And here he's telling her that they are friends, that she isn't alone

• And we see how uncomfortable Arthur is being treated as the king

• And he's trying to tell Genny that he cares for her as a person and not just the queen he traded for in a treaty

• He wants her to see him that way because if she sees him as just Arthur and not the king, then maybe he can tell her how he feels

• But also maybe it you are a man and your confession of love to a woman contains the words "I know this is an unusual thing for a man to say about a woman but" you have turned down the wrong path

• "Yes. Friends. And business partners"

• Her delivery is so ice cold, it's perfect

• The fact that she says this and even Arthur picks up on her tone and knows he fucked up

• Arthur trying to fix things and being interrupted

• His frustration with himself is so heartbreaking

• I am still screaming in my brain just louder now

• Pelli is great but also he is the cause of so many of Arthur and Genny's resentments and miscommunications, the man's a magnet for drama

• He's so funny in this scene trying to complain to Arthur and Arthur already knowing all of Mordred's bullshit

• And yelling dammit so many times in the most perfect way like me with every person who has ever annoyed me

• "Because England doesn't have a law against limericks"

• The fact that even though they're in the middle of this weird emotional mess, Arthur looks to Genny when he's talking about how Pelli's question is complicated

• His thinking buddy

• And business partner

• Also the idea that Arthur is so chill with the fact that he doesn't have the answer, that he's laying groundwork for future progress instead of assuming it will be accomplished by him

• Which is just inherently a concept I think I struggle with, that the world will not change in all the ways it should in my lifetime but the work now still has to be done

• So I like to see it

• Not going to write out another good Sorkin speech about ideas but I love this one too rest assured

• And we've had a nice little break, now we're back to chess and Arthur trying to force out something coherent and me screaming in my brain again

• I still can't get over the way they're still playing chess I'm sorry

• Genny saying "you're in check" with a different delivery every time to convey her emotional state

• The range

• Arthur just trying so hard to come up with anything again, I am personally suffering

• "What I feel-"/"I thought it was right on the money"/"Oh you do?"

• Then I think he says "oh okay" but I don't even know

• They were so close this is the worst

• Still chess

• "Do you regret being born a princess?"/"I'm confident that most people would gladly trade their problems for mine"/"But you're not talking to them right now"

• Firstly the show does an amazing job recontexualizing What Do the Simple Folk Do and everything around it so A+ for that

• But also Arthur is so empathetic in this moment

• "I know you're sad sometimes. That you miss whatever life you were searching for the night you ran from the carriage. The simple joys of maidenhood you called it. You do a good job of hiding it from the court but when you feel sad you-"/"can talk to my business partner?"/"Well I think I might be good at cheering you up"

• The delivery is so sincere

• He sees her pain and he cares so much

• He feels responsible for the life that she missed out on by marrying him

• And he wants to help

• In many ways, he is terrible at expressing his feelings but again in some small respects, he does absolutely knock it out of the park

• Even if Genny can't see it

• "If there was a tournament for cheering you up, I think I'd win"/"Oh as long as there wasn't a bird nearby"/"It wasn't just any bird, it was a white tailed eagle both times"

• The way they move from emotional conversations and annoyed miscommunications back to humor with such ease

• Arthur's bird obsession continues to be one of the best bits of characterization ever

• Genny making fun of Arthur's various words for peasants

• I love What Do the Simple Folk Do so much

• It's just perfectly constructed and the rhymes are pretty genius

• I love every single lyric

• And I love that this song gives Arthur and Genny a chance to be charming and reconnect after the second half of act 1 and the beginning of act 2 were so focused on Genny and Lance

• And then this scene has so much going on that it reminds you why they're the couple of the show

• I didn't need reminding because I'm trash for them but other people might

• All of the little jokes between the lyrics are so funny

• The delivery of "the very last thing you should have is encouragement" is so much funnier than on the cast recording

• Like what is this? So charming

• "My father used to say I sang like an angel who'd been blessed with a particularly pretty singing voice"

• I'm so glad this is at least on the cast recording

• She plays it so straight, it's so good

• This may be my favorite of the songs

• And the dance, they're so cute, the squeeling kills me

• I can't adequately express how much I need to find a bootleg so I can witness this again, the whole scene really but mostly this

• I cannot handle the way they say "Genny"/"Your Majesty"

• Fuuuuck

• The groan in the audience at "a letter from my mother", the pure expression of fuck Mordred

• "He's been waiting a long time."/"Yes"/"My mother was his first, you know"/"I had that sense, yes"/"They say you never fully get over your first love"

• Genny hates Mordred so much and she's right

• He's hitting her exactly where it hurts but Arthur can't even tell

• Also fascinating that Mordred can actually see the dynamic between Genny and Arthur and Lance so much more clearly than the people involved

• "You think you might possibly be spending the night?"

• Like her deliveries were getting more panicked but then this one

• Like she can't even believe what she's hearing and he doesn't even get it

• The long silence after Mordred says Lance has the queen's protection detail

• As people make mmms in the audience

• And then their last little exchange

• Ouch

• Genny telling Arthur what she herself actually needs to be told and Arthur having no clue

• "His queen's in danger"

• Mordred is the absolute worst and it's perfect

• The reprise of the Simple Joys of Maidenhood, so sad and I can't handle it

• I think this is her moment of just fully sitting in the idea that her husband doesn't love her and sees her so completely separate from that that he doesn't even understand why she's so upset to see him dash away overnight to see another woman

• And that he therefore doesn't and won't love her in the way she's singing about

• And thinking that she has the knight pining for her but it isn't enough and sets up her trying to make it enough

• She's grown so much since she first sang the song but she still can't fill the void of wanting this kind of love

• But also knowing that kind of love isn't enough

• I love her

Act 2, Scene 3: The home of Morgan Le Fey/Guenevere's Chamber/ Castle corridor - on that evening

• The into music to Morgan is gorgeous, perhaps my favorite

• It's hard to introduce an important character this late into the show and make them so memorable, even if they've been hanging over the narrative for a while now

• And still have them knock it out of the park but once again, this show is perfectly cast

• The tension of this whole scene is everything

• Morgan's laugh and then "Jesus christ it's the king of England"

• Immediately sets her up perfectly

• And we get something totally different out of Arthur

• I love their dialouge which I am once again trying not to just fully write out, I love their chemistry, I love how quickly their friendliness breaks down

• He does sound genuinely happy to see her at the beginning but as soon as he asks if she's feeling well, they start to cool

• I can't even pick specific lines because everything is such a vibe

• You feel the history and complication and the years apart where everything has changed for both of them and the way that she's the one person who knew him as just Arthur

• "I know exactly who you are"

• Like of course this one was gonna have a line reading that lends itself to multiple things but that's always good and I like it

• Genny ranting to Lance about the number of letters Arthur wrote to Morgan

• She finally gets to be pissed and Phillipa Soo plays it so well

• "Don't review my arithmetic in your head, it's 208"

• Even at her most angry, she still must make sure Lance knows she's right, very relatable

• "I questioned the king, we've all questioned the king"

• This adaptation has built in the knights discontent so well that it's believable that they've just been growing more resentful over time

• "Because one cannot legislate goodness Pellinore, which at the end of the day, is the mission of the round table"/"And what say you Sagramore?"/"Well tell me, when we're all equal will peasants live like knights or will knights live like peasants?"

• Their entire speech is amazing

• The knights growing angrier as they realize they're all on the same page

• The way that it all fits seamlessly into the story we see on the stage but there's also no denying it's about the time we're living in right now

• But again, not in a way where it feels out of nowhere or too heavy handed

• "I throw away the letters, I give away the money"

• I love the way she delivers her lines so dismissively

• I wonder how much of it is her feelings and how much of it is trying to hurt Arthur as much as he's hurt her

• "That part gets left out of the legend" I think is the first moment where Arthur gets under Morgan's skin just a bit

• Like I'm not sure what she wants/wanted from Arthur but maybe it was just that she doesn't like being erased from the story

• "What wife could possibly object?"

• I love her bitterness mounting leading up to this line and actually hearing her call herself Arthur's wife which is I don't think is something she does before

• "I admire the king's commitment to doing the right thing no matter what. That's what a man does, and god knows it should be what a king does."

• I love watching Genny justify her anger because on one level she knows it isn't fair to be angry

• That she really does admire Arthur's goodness and believes he's doing the right thing

• That it's not that he's going to see Morgan, that he wants to bring her to the castle, it's about his actions with Genny

• Or I suppose the lack of consideration of her feelings in maybe the most hurtful way where there was nothing deliberate, it just didn't even occur to him

• She's so hurt

• Everyone in this scene gets to be extremely mad and I love it

• "When he ran out of here, he didn't think it would trouble me at all. He didn't think the letters would mean anything to me. Or staying overnight. Mordred said his mother was his first true love. Business partner. He said it right in front of me as if I wouldn't mind"/"Do you?"/"No, of course not. It's just that it was the first time that it's been demonstrated to me that-"/"Your husband doesn't think of you as his wife"/"Yes"

• Everything is on her face and in her voice

• She's so hurt, so angry, so tired of not being loved

• And when she says of course it doesn't bother her, when she pulls back her feelings in front of Lance

• And her delivery of yes like something clicks in her brain, probably their entire relationship is flashing in her brain and she's building up evidence that it's true

• Lance has articulated exactly what she didn't know she was feeling

• And the music under it underscores each emotion perfectly

• Again Phillipa Soo is just emotionally devastating in this scene

• But also gotta go back to "Your husband doesn't think of you as his wife"

• Like right now I'm just thinking back to Arthur referring to Genny as French to Lance when they first meet and again when he asks her to tell Lance he's being invested

• While Genny in that scene and in the first scene of act 2 keeps referring to her country as England while Lance claims her as French like him

• I wonder if that distinction is one of the things that feeds into her (and Lance?) feeling like Arthur doesn't think of her as his wife

• That she's trying to keep proclaiming her loyalty and he keeps putting a border between them

• At least in her point of view

• While he's as always trying to show her that he sees and respects her as an autonomous individual and not a thing he owns

• Am I reading too far into this? Probably

• (You're not my homeland anymore, so what am I defending now - honestly that it took me this long to make a Taylor Swift reference is a marvel)

• Anyway back to this tremendous scene

• Part of me does wonder if Lance really doesn't know how Arthur feels or if he's in denial because it's easier for him if Arthur doesn't think of Genny as his wife

• Like he does make a point to tell Arthur in the last scene that he and Genny aren't together

• He's gotta realize in this scene how Genny feels about Arthur but curious about the other way around

• Or ya know, maybe he doesn't, maybe he's just as emotionally inept as everyone else in this show

• Don't really have a point, it's just an interesting thought

• How do so many versions cut Fie on Goodness?

• Like not only is it an amazing song but also it's sort of the whole damn point

• If you cut it, the ideals of Camelot are barely even a plot, it's all love triangle

• Also just want to take a moment to appreciate how gross the lyrics to this one are

• This is for sure my favorite sequence

• The intro speech to the song is perfect

• Them just getting worked up about how England is special, it is better, that they're the ones who should be listened to

• "Don't dare question our loyalty to the king"/"A king who encourages debate"

• Again I just love the knights' conflicted feelings about Arthur

• So it's easiest to shift all the blame to Genny and Lance

• This song is so good, this cast is so good

• "That day that I became king, my cousin gave me his tutor, a man named Merlyn. And Merlyn spoke to me of a great cause that I could lead. But I would have to stay unmarried until a young princess in France came of age"/"And you left me unmarriable, a woman with a child"/"I didn't know about the child until he came and introduced himself"/"You raise your voice to me? Have I displeased you your majesty?"/"Stop calling me that"/"I know all about the French princess-"/"The queen"/"and the grand cause-"/"great cause"/"I don't give a damn"

• This is a stupid amount of text that I've typed out but I love their back and forth here

• Arthur trying to justify himself and not wanting to take responsibility and them both getting angry at each other

• Morgan and her relationship with Arthur have been changed pretty drastically to the point that she's not even the same character and I like it and her so much

• I do wonder what the intent was here because I feel like you could read a lot of different things into their dynamic

• And to what that means about Arthur

• I mean I get the sense that she's maybe always been maybe a bit of an outsider, maybe always was a little more world-weary (or maybe not, maybe getting left pregnant while he became king hardened her)

• And maybe their power dynamic has been completely flipped but also maybe Arthur still has a hard time not letting it flip back

• Because like there's no doubt for me that for whatever reason, she was the one holding the cards originally and he doesn't know how to deal with her now

• Like I don't know if she's older or Arthur was always bad at love so she would have just been the more confident person but there's something there

• She obviously has a completely different point of view than anyone else in the show which I love

• And she gets under Arthur's skin so easily

• I guess because she's the one casuality of his great cause, the one wrong he can't right

• Also "stop calling me that" is so petulant teen

• And he was that when he knew her so of course it comes out

• "You seem quick to betray the king"/"I would die before I betrayed King Arthur"/"Yet here you are"/"I can't rise above being a man, a human man. I can't transcend it no matter how hard I try"

• My favorite Lance line

• Ugh it's perfect

• He's so tortured and so good at conveying that in his delivery

• He's getting some character growth

• Genny being both not wrong but also putting it on him so she doesn't have to think about her own behavior

• "My duty is to god, King Arthur, and the round table. I can best serve all three with my absence. It's a small price for one person to pay for a greater good"

• Ooh the self-loathing hits so good

• And Genny panicking because she's about to get left for the second time tonight

• The playing of If Ever I Would Leave You

• Because he is, or he's at least trying to

• To do the right thing

• Genny and Lance speaking French together, always good even thought I can't understand shit

• "No more talking"

• And the bed just being pulled out of the scene

• I just love how the song is interspersed with these scenes, this sequence is truly brilliant and the energy of it in the theater is truly unmatched

• "All the letters that followed-"/"All the letters that followed offered me room and board along with the cash. Imagine how moved I was by the chivalry"

• Ah mocking chivalry, a family pastime

• Again, I just love the way she goes in on Arthur's attempts to do the right thing over and over

• And again I don't know if it's because he wouldn't give her what she actually wanted or pure vengence

• "Guilty and alive once more" is probably my favorite line from the song

• "Let me ask you this question and I'm entitled to the truth. If there hadn't been a cause, a great case, would you have married me? No."/"I was fifteen years old that night and the next day I was king. I was anointed by the archbishop of Canterbury in York and those men think they put me in direct contact with the divine. There was a cause."

• Clearly in her mind he was never going to marry her but we know from Pelli that when he met Arthur when he was already king, he was still very much in love with Morgan

• More than 10 years (plus then a year that's passed in story) before this could be lots of different amounts of time but it could have been up to a few years into Arthur being king which is a long while

• So the answer was probably yes

• But he doesn't say any of that because his feelings don't matter, he's too focused on justifying his cause, that it was important enough to make up for her life

• And ya know Camelot is what's important now, Camelot is what he and Genny have devoted their lives to, he can't fail

• This is the scene where I just conspiracy board Genny and Arthur's relationship

• This is fine, I'm normal about this show, that's why I wrote all of this

• Either way I think it must really bother Athur that Morgan might think he's not a good man

• We saw it with Genny and the courtesans thing too

• Like obviously part of that was being in love with her but also I think it fucks with his self-image as a person who does the right thing which is his entire life

• And Morgan's the biggest crack in that in his mind which is why he gets angry pretty much constantly in this scene

• At least that's my theory

• I love that we get see him cracking a bit under the strain of being good and trying to rise above being a human being just like everyone else in this scene

• He's got a lot more moral fortitude than the rest of the characters so it just manifests as him getting to be angry and express it to another person for once but still

• He makes excuses, he gets mad, he won't accept that Morgan's version of events is also true and he can't force her to be okay with it

• I don't know, there's something nice about narrative not saying that making the choices of the knights or Genny and Lance is inevitable, Arthur does make the right choices but he still isn't perfect here

• "And I won't live in a spare room in a castle and be the used and discarded former mistress of a king... but I will be the mother of one"

• So like how much of Mordred's plans are Mordred and how much is Morgan?

• And you know used and discarded former mistress of a king is killing Arthur

• "And he didn't"/"What?"/"Put you in direct contact with the divine"/"That is made clear to me every day"

• Morgan did a good job of pretending indifference at the beginning but the more she lays into Arthur, the more hostile things get between them, it's so clear that if the opposite of love is indifference then they haven't managed to get over loving each other

• It's just soured and rotted but won't die

• More so for Morgan because she paid the price, she couldn't move on in the way he could

• "And I wouldn't want to see your face when you realize it didn't make a difference. There'll be greed and injustice and hate and horror. You can change the stuff but people stay exactly the same. No one whose opponent was human nature has ever won a fight. Human nature responds to-"/"Inspiration"/"Fear. And that's it"

• It's so cruel but also a great illustration of the ways that they're fundamental opposites

• "I don't forget anything"

• Another extremely loaded line delivery

• (Don't make an All Too Well reference, don't make an All Too Well reference, don't)

• The panic and realization of "he's not stupid" and the music that builds to it and Morgan's laugh ugh perfect

• The intro music to I Loved You Once in Silence is gorgeous

• Lance and Genny in white feeling guilty as hell is a good visual

• So much regret

• Just instantly

• I feel like the moment they've actually acted on their feelings, they know that it's not only a mistake but also that their feelings aren't actually what they thought

• Well maybe Lance doesn't quite have it yet in this scene but he gets there

• Not to repeat what I said about the first scene in act 2 but

• My take is that they intentionally deepened Arthur and Genny's relationship and Lance's character but not Lance and Genny's relationship

• They intentionally left it shallow

• That these are two people who are missing something and the easiest way for them to get that is to frame what they have as love

• I mean for Genny it's sort of obvious, she's married to a man she's in love with but that she thinks doesn't love her

• Lance makes her feel certain about his feelings for her and that's validating

• But Lance, I feel like I have thoughts but I'm not sure

• Lance has never been forced to reckon with temptation before

• And instead of facing that in himself

• He just makes Genny part of the list of things that define him

• A goddess on earth and a god above

• Along with the table

• And he can worship them all to avoid having to figure out who he actually is

• It's not him admitting he has a human weakness, it's a grand tragic love story that he can suffer for

• And suffering, well that's what lets him cope with whatever about himself he feels is so terrible that he needs to punish himself for it

• He's so terrified to look inward, so afraid of something in himself that he just finds his identity in other people and institutions

• And he can't hide behind that anymore because he's betrayed it all, every single thing

• I feel like this makes it sound like I don't like Lance and I very much do

• He's just particularly flawed because he's the only one who doesn't start the show knowing that about himself

• They all make choices out of self-loathing and fear of unworthiness but I do think Lance thinks consciously he's above that for most of the show even if subconsciously he knows he isn't

• He's the only one of the main three to not really finish his character journey within the confines of this narrative

• Arguably he only starts right now and finally realizes he's not the man he thought he was

• Again fic potential somone???

• Well that was a tangent

• Jordan Donica's performance of I Loved You Once in Silence is so heartbreaking

• "Lance I made a mistake. I'm sorry but you're a good man and I should have been nicer to you."

• I love that, I love that she takes her responsibility (even if she's already trying to cover up what happened)

• But also it's just the clearst indication that acting on her feelings killed them

• She doesn't need to push Lance away anymore to stop herself from doing anything

• I love that Lance tries to surrender peacefully

• He's willing to take responsibility not for his noble suffering anymore but because he is a good man and he knows he's done what he's been accused of

• And he only attacks because he has to

• Mordred's evil laugh

• Lance being slightly disheveled and grabbing Mordred's sword to fight off the guards and escape

• I don't have any kind of intellectual take, this is just a personal problem for me

• My jaw was on the floor when Lance started yelling back about coming for her if he survives

• Such a tense ramp up into Guenevere

Act 2, Scene 4: The trial/The Battle

• Guenevere has such amazing lyrics

• The entire "more than love met its doom"/"came the sundown of a dream" verse destroys me

• And I love every word of added dialouge, so correct to put it on the cast recording

• I feel I must explain my love for the staging of this song some more because it is so simple and I understand that some people are not into it but I so much am

• I love the way they close off the back of the stage for I think the only time in the whole show and it becomes claustrophobic all of the sudden

• Now Arthur is stuck in this little box in front of the audience while everything falls apart for him and that's what you have to look at so there's no getting away from how devastating it is

• We just get some full force Andrew Burnap acting and I love it, I think by now it should be clear that I would

• In other versions that I've seen, there's a lot more happening and we see Genny

• And we see Arthur see her tied to the stake and Lancelot show up to rescue her

• Which I do like in theory

• But we don't really see Genny have any actual role or even seeming to have any particular feelings about what she's done or what's about to happen

• Like she's about to die and I've yet to see a version where I have any idea if she's got a single emotion about that

• Despite the name of the song, I think this show decided this scene isn't about Genny, it's about Arthur

• It's about the consequences of his laws

• It's about the beginning of his new war

• Arthur screaming "Pelli I know" like we see him start to crack

• Oh to know who told Arthur and how he took it

• "Well do something"/"She's under arrest. She's been accused of treason"/"Arthur I understand that you're angry but"/"She's been accused of breaking the law. She has to be judged"

• The delivery of that last line, ugh

• He keeps it impersonal, it isn't about what she did to him or his pain, it's about the law

• The law they lovingly crafted together

• "What a magnificent dilemma: let her die and you're a monster, let her live and you're a fraud. Which will it be? Do you kill the queen or the law?"

• Fuck

• The delivery is so good

• Mordred is having the time of his life shrieking about Arthur's pain

• The killing the queen or the law bit seems to be mostly unchanged and it's maybe the best single line from the original book

• Although it went from kill the queen and your life is over to you're a monster

• Mordred has to know Arthur is in love with Genny, right?

• Maybe he just can't imagine Arthur could love a person more than he loves his ideals which I guess would make sense given Morgan and Arthur's relationship

• Arthur drawing his sword on Mordred!!!

• "Ooh careful your majesty, you wouldn't want to be barbaric"

• The fact that Mordred thinks that's going to work, that he can continue to poke at Arthur and he won't respond, he really does believe in Arthur's goodness doesn't he?

• "You are exiled from this court. Return and I will show you what barbaric looks like"

• Arthur screaming at Mordred with his hand around his throat is so intense

• It's so good

• Another gasp out loud in the theater moment

• Arthur is fully unraveling and I'm obsessed

• "I know my way out"

• It's such a teenage delivery and like Mordred is just a kid who feels abandoned by his father

• And as much as this is a tragedy for the three main characters, it's no less a tragedy for Mordred

• Aging down Mordred, also a great choice

• And again, just another stellar performance

• Every single person in this cast just knocked it out of the park in a way I never could have anticipated

• "Arthur please, I'm an old man and I know I'm ridiculous but for the love of god, it's Genny. She made a mistake, she knows that."

• I love that Pelli loves her too

• That he isn't judging her

• "She broke the law Pellinore. A law signed by the king. So say the people"

• He starts trying to be calm but then the fact that it's his law brings up the anger and then he breaks on so say the people

• He's written his own destruction

• And empowered others to take the decision out of his hands

• I love the dialouge in this scene so damn much

• "Neither you nor I nor god himself can stop this terrible thing that's been put in motion"/"What are you waiting for?"/"I'm waiting for what's inevitably coming next"

• The delivery of coming next...

• Like obviously he wants Lance to save Genny but he knows that no matter what

• No matter if she lives or dies, peace is over and the round table has been destroyed

• And he needs to prepare

• Also the way he frames what's happening

• It's not what Genny and Lance or even Mordred caused

• It's just what's been set into motion by all these tiny and giant choices throughout the show that have bubbled over into the death of Camelot

• "That's Lancelot du Lac out there and he's brought a battalion. Double the guard, triple the guard, those guards are going to die tonight"

• How many times can I just copy a bunch of text and write the delivery

• Because yup

• The lack of hope from Arthur is chilling

• Arthur getting dragged back into the war he worked so hard to end

• Just every line delivery in this scene is perfect

• Every lyric of the song

• Every acting choice

• And I love to see it visually

• Preparing for war isn't an exciting spectacle, it's tragic

Act 2, Scene 5: Outside Joyous Gard - on the eve of war

• The way they fade in on the eve of war just broke my heart every time

• I would love to know how much communication there was between Arthur and Lance and how

• Like how much of a role did Arthur play in the whole Genny not getting burned business?

• And the fact that his first question is whether they've been injured

• Even after everything, he's a good man who cares

• And Genny and Lance too, being willing to come back and die

• They're all good people who made mistakes but still good people

• "I assure you, if I thought it would end all this, I would light the fire myself"

• Absolutely brutal but like after he lays out all the death and rebellion that have already happened I guess brutal is fair

• Ya know, if I thought he meant it even a little

• "Lance, come morning some of your countrymen are going to be at the end of my sword. It's not personal, it's just my job. Stay safe Lance."/"I can't do that. And neither can you. Godspeed your majesty."

• I just love the idea of Lance and Arthur as these two people who love each other spearheading this war neither of them believe in

• It's so tragic

• Their goodbye is so understated which for Lance is like truly a great bit of contrast

• They've had enough big declarations, these few sentences just distill everything perfectly

• And then we come to Genny and Arthur, fuck fuck fuck

• The first time I saw this I spent like all of intermission and act 2 with a loop in my brain of but they love each other, right?

• I am unrepentant trash for them in this version as though that wasn't abundantly clear

• And Aaron Sorkin delivered for me so hard in this scene

• "Please let me die, Arthur"

• The pause before his name

• And now we get to the part where I start to get like teary-eyed in the theater

• "Two very powerful men did this to you... not Mordred and Lance, your father and me"

• That long pause before and me

• I love his whole speech, I almost typed it all out

• And they allow so much silence during it

• And the way he's like trying to hold it together but he can't by the end

• "You were treated like a queen but you were my hostage Genny, what the hell did we think was going to happen?"

• That he recognizes and actually admits the ways that his choices have harmed Genny, the unfairness in the entire situation he's put her through

• That he can see even through his own hurt and the enormity of what has been set into motion, his own responsibility for what's happened

• Like he's not right but he's also not wrong

• "And for it's worth, I've been in love with you this whole time"

• Not even looking at her so we have to see it instead ugh

• And then watch that long silence while Genny just like rearranges her entire view of their relationship

• "For what it's worth? Did you just say for what it's worth?"/"Well I thought maybe you'd like to know that. But I wasn't sure."

• Just smashing my heart into tiny little pieces

• After everything they've been to each other, after all they built together, he still doesn't even know if his feelings will matter to her

• While Genny is getting ready to lose her mind after for what it's worth

• They're so absolutely emotionally inept

• "You weren't sure? Why didn't you ever tell me before?"/"It doesn't matter"/"Why?"/"How could I? I'm the king of England. You'd have been forced to pretend you felt the same way"

• Again they are delivering lines in a way that is continuing to smash the little pieces of my heart into complete dust

• Like Arthur is again not wrong but not right

• His life is so lonely because of this crown he didn't want and his desire to actually be responsible with that power

• And even now he tries to get out of explaining that to her

• I love him so much is the problem

• And then her mmm like all the pieces are coming together in her brain that they've both been suffering for nothing and she is pissed

• I love her so much which is also the problem

• Incidentally, both of these things are also their problem so very relatable

• "Out of curiousity, if I had told you, what would you have said?"/"That I loved you from the moment I saw you, from the moment you spoke, from the moment you sang me that stupid song about the weather"/"It's not about the weather it's a metaphor"/"I know it's a metaphor"

• The way Genny overlaps him asking, she can't even wait for him to finish

• The way she says stupid song

• The way that she's like, I did fall in love with you over that song but also I still hate it and think it's dumb

• She says it with such contempt

• Icon

• Even standing before the wreckage of their lives, they still can't stop bickering about the song, I'm obsessed

• "I prayed every night that one day you would see me the way I saw you. And then you told me I was your business partner. Yes I was and I am in love with you"/"Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse"

• She prayed every night???

• For two years???

• That he would return her feelings???

• Fuck

• Like I don't know if I can convey how much them being in love with each other and thinking it's unrequited for two whole years ping pongs around my brain and just lights up all the synapses

• "Do you really think 10,000 people loosened that sword for me?"/"I do"/"So do I. That's a nice thought isn't it?"

• It is a nice thought

• I love the philosophy of this show, I love that there's no convoluted Arthur is actually the son of the last king so he was destined to be special

• These are just two people who though birth or circumstance ended up in this position of power and chose to do good with it

• Genny begging for just a little more time like the only reason I kept anything together was being in a theater but if feel confident that if I ever get my hands on footage of this show, I would have already been sobbing by this point

• "They won't let me let Lance save you twice so you have to go Princess Guenevere"

• Hearing him call her by her name is so deeply distressing

• Literally not once before in the show does it happen and it hurts

• And then they're playing Before I Gaze at You Again what an amazing choice

• Turning a love song she sang about Lance into this romantic moment for her and Arthur because theirs was the love story the whole time like brilliant

• That they chose the show's first love song and brought it back for Genny and Arthur being unable to leave each other without that hug and that kiss

• Like this song that is originally about the pain of unfulfilled love for the wrong person and then flipping it to the pain of fulfilled love with the right one

• I am so not okay

• Also people did very loudly applaud at closing when they kissed and I was so glad because truly in my head I was doing it every time

• "I love you"/"I love you too"/"God save the king"

• I mean these are some good last words to say to each other, I'll give them that

• The thing about the original version of the musical is that the ending was already a perfect concept

• Here it just feels more meaningful because they lay that groundwork about inspiring the next generation throughout

• Tom trying to con Arthur about his age is very funny

• This kid is so good and adorable

• "You're speaking to a king"/"I'm twelve years old"

• Like his comedic delivery, very impressive

• "And when did you decide upon this nonexistent career?"

• We get a solid 60 seconds of cynical Arthur and that's about it

• The entire concept of this kid being inspired by the stories of Camelot is just deeply moving and beautiful

• And just the entirety of Andrew Burnap's performance of that realization hitting Arthur

• I love a story that's about the power of stories

• People also applauded at the last show when Arthur says the stories were all true which I also just deeply love

• Arthur's I know exactly how you feel when Tom says he's not ready to be a knight and putting his arm around him, so cute

• "And you will return to your home alive"

• The way he says alive

• Like I think Arthur knows that he's not making it out of this

• Even if he would manage to survive the battle and Mordred, he knows his time is done

• But the the future is still there

• And there is about to be so much death

• Some of it from his sword or his orders

• And the rest of it of his men

• But at least this kid, he's going to live

• The reprise of Camelot... I just love it so much

• "I've won my battle, here's my victory"

• Not a new line but just such a gorgeous one

• The entire idea of the story of Camelot as a tragedy but a hopeful one just gets me

• It's such a beautiful conclusion that this version sets up so so well

• I love that we end on a speech again, just like act 1

• Also that last bit of music as they walk off, stunning

• I have attempted to track down as many older productions of this show as I can including the movie which was good but I am biased and I do sort of think Sorkin and Bartlett Sher and the actors and everyone else involved had the more interesting take on the themes and characters

• A Broadway musical is best when it has simple but impactful themes and big emotions

• And that's exactly what this version gave us

• The highest compliment I can give this show is that not only have I not stopped thinking about it, not only did I tell everyone I know to see it, not only did I want to see the show again (and again and...), but it also just made me feel inspired to see more theater in a way I haven't in a serious while

• I just love this show so much and I'm so glad there are some people here who can't get over it either

• This is what I have to offer, the longest possible unhinged rant and bad quality closing audio, that is all

[prinvessdior]

okay I decided to upload the first chapter here but please head to here for full updates :3!

CW: mentioned panic attack/ anxiety lots of it. Mentioned gun (never used) panicking. Kinda a bitchy bitch? Idk

(Y/n) wakes up in her new home headed to school. (Y/n) can’t help but click on an early morning live stream of the ninja. She keeps watching one specifically though. Weird things happen..

My alarm screaming at the crack of dawn is something I thought I should be used to by now. It apparently was not as I rolled over, burrito-fied in my blankets. Blindly reaching for my blaring phone I haphazardly press around on the screen. The alarm shuts off and I groan rubbing the sleep out of my bleary eyes.

The early morning sun casts a sheen of yellowish orange across the expanse of my room. Given it wasn’t really a room yet. Boxes stacked and filled the corners of my room, remnants of what I had left to unpack. A soft knock on my door has me (begrudgingly) sitting up.

My dad pops his head in through my door after I mumble a sleepy, “Come in.”

His black curls bounce as he swivels his head to find me still in bed. “Mornin’ babygirl.” He affectionately greets sending me a soft smile when I catch his gaze. I yawn holding a hand over my mouth to cover my manners and the noise.

“Morning Dad.” I pull the covers over my body once again the winter air sneaking in from my bedroom window when Dad cracks it open.

In his hand is a plate stacked with pancakes, eggs and bacon I hum happily as the smells wafts when he sets the plate on the table next to my bed. The only thing I bothered to unpack.

“Big day! Being the new girl is gonna be a lot, especially you so a special breakfast for my favorite daughter.”

I smiled tiredly, “But I’m your only daughter?” I reminded with a frown, he frowns taking a seat at the foot of my bed.

“Whatever.”

Dad digs in the pockets of his pink sleeping robe, I snort to myself that he’s still sleeping with that thing. I could vaguely make out the sound of something jingling.

He presented me with a set of car keys, blown wide awake I threw my covers off I started at dad wide eyed. “Hiram says since its your last year of high school, and almost an official adult, that you deserved some freedom.”

My smile grew in size, I all but snatched the keys throwing my arms around Dad, “Dad! Thankyouthankyou I’ll call dad after school and thank him too!” He chuckled returning my attack of a hug with one arm his free hand ruffling my hair.

I pulled away to inspect the keys closer, turning them over in my hand a few times. Oh! I’d seen these before!

“Oh God this is the car Mr. Cyrus gifted to dad right?” I asked remembering way back when Dad was first starting his school Mr. Cyrus Borg had donated a lot of cash to get it started, I can remember Dad repaying him with his own class at the school and dad got a car out of it, cool.

Dad nodded standing up, “Yeah, so don’t break it.” I huffed rolling my eyes.

“Eat up princess, I’m riding along I need the car for work. Regroup in twenty.” Dad gave me a goofy salute, leaving me alone in my half unpacked room once again.

Humming a song I stood from my bed, first order of business was to take care of the rats nest on my head. I opened the door that connected my bathroom to my room, which by the way, so cool! Back in the village all the home’s layouts had been exactly the same, copy and paste. It was a nice change, what can I say I am a simple girl.

I had only managed to fully unpack the bathroom. Kicking an emptied box out of my way, assessing my appearance in the mirror. Huffing, I quickly slid a brush through my hair securing it into a low ponytail with one too many hair ties, I brushed my teeth.

Next on the agenda was Dads “special new girl breakfast”. Bounding on my bed taking my phone along with me, unplugging it from the charger. I ate in semi-silence as I scrolled through social media. I flicked through friends from private school seeing some girls I used to preform with preparing to go on vacation for winter break. There was the usual news, weather, and people posting their mornings on their stories.

An account I had followed years ago piqued my interest. The twitter account; a Secret Ninja force fan account specifically. Awhile ago when Hiram’s college first opened I remember Dad telling me about how it’d been attacked by..

I squinted at my phone as if the fan account would help me remember.

Whatever it was years ago anyways I was barley thirteen I think. Sighing thumb hovering over the notification at the top of my phone. The account was livestreaming.

“Early Morning skirmish with the Ninja!!”

Sure, an enthusiastic title, seemed like they had been live for awhile. I glanced to the time on my phone.

‘Who goes live at 6:32 in the morning’

About to scroll, I needed to be getting dressed for school anyways. I was still in my pajamas for gods sake. I had to pack my school bag, I barley had seven minutes to get dressed and meet dad outside, wanted to test drive my new baby too, I frowned.

I clicked on the livestream.

The footage was grainy at best, camera flying between each of the ninja. The ninja themselves were gathered around a group of people, I couldn’t tell the gender of the people they seemed to be deescalating a robbery situation. There was a lot of noise the audio was choppy and shitty too, barley registering what was being said.

This “fan account” sure had a shitty phone

I thought to myself as the commotion grew louder.

The cameraman tilting to an angle possibly hiding behind something as they continued to film. There were just enough context clues for me to discern the robbers had guns. I placed a hand over my mouth, suddenly remembering that this was real. A live stream happening somewhere across ninjago city.

Oh shit.

In my momentary anxiety attack, noises of fighting was enough for me to nervously glance back down to my phone. From what I could tell there was an eruption of color. So much so I had to turn away from my phone and shield my eyes, too bright even through a screen. The colors dissipated and assuming the streamer started explaining the whole ordeal. The teen’s voice yelled about how the Water and Green ninja had disarmed the robbers of their guns. The camera quickly switched away from the ninja as police sirens approached making it hard to hear again, the teen continued to yap praises for the ninja.

My gaze flicked over his shoulder to the aftermath, I could barley make out the green one with the robbers apprehended in tow making his way to the approaching police. I clicked off the stream my phone falling to rest on my stomach.

“Woah.”

Dad yelled my name from somewhere downstairs and I shot up from bed still clad in my pajamas.

“Shit!”

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Three minutes was the fastest I’d ever gotten dressed I think. After hastily throwing on a light pink sweater, over my pj shorts I put on some thick winter leggings. Grabbing my phone I hovered over the sleep button gnawing on my bottom lip, overthinking. It was really weird how I’d went completely braindead not thinking before doing something.

What.. what was I doing before clicking on that livestream? I held a hand to my head wincing from a sudden oncoming headache.

Dad called my name louder this time, “C’mon babygirl! We’re gonna run late!”

“Coming!”

Breaking out of my overthinking with a shake of my head ridding the ache with it. I plucked my favorite winter jacket that sat atop a few boxes of clothes. I grimaced at all the unpacking I still have to do. Sliding the pink-inner-woolen fabric over my arms and zipping it all the way, I slid my phone into my pocket zipping that up too. I snatched my shiny new car keys off the bedside table along with my schoolbag lazily thrown over my shoulder and left my semi-room.

Hopping two steps at a time I met dad by the door; he was looking down at me then back to his watch.

“Twenty-seven minutes, seriously?”

I nodded even more serious, “Seriously, takes a lot to look this good.”

Dad snorted and rolled his eyes, holding the front door open for me. I grinned walking out into the chilly early morning air. Seriously Dad told me how cold the city gets in winter but seriously?

Fumbling to retrieve the keys with half frozen fingers, my grin grew as we approached the silver SUV. Sure, it was a soccer mom car but a car nonetheless.

Sliding into the drivers side I hurriedly turned the ignition over desperate for the warm air. Dad entered a few seconds after I threw my bag with my phone inside, Its better out of sight while I’m driving anyways, to the backseats. Dad takes control of the radio as I back out of the driveway.

Whatever song spills softly from the cars speakers as I pulled to the main city road. Dad nudges my arm to grab my attention I hum in query.

“Did you grab your sheet music?” he asked

I groaned hitting the side of the steering wheel. I had completely forgotten about it, I meant to pack it before I got dressed but well.. plus, wouldn’t the kids think it’s weird if I’m walking around school with oldie sheet music? I grew up singing, dad says I was born with a Tony Award in my chubby baby hands. Hell, Hiram has a school on our shared musical expertise.

“I.. forgot.”

Hoping that was the best answer, Especially because I didn’t want dad to know my thought about his oldie music it’d hurt his feelings if I voiced my feelings about it being weird.

Dad brushes it off, “I’ll remind you tomorrow.” I release an anxious breath. Fingers tapping on the wheel as we paused at a red light.

“Anyway, Hiram has a new assistant.” Dad finger quotes the word assistant “Basically this kid found out about Hiram’s daughter was transferring to ninjago high. She emailed for months begging Hiram to offer her help.”

I nodded half listening, “So dad got me a friend? Peachy..” I muttered with a gritted smile sinking down into the seat as a newfound bubble of anxiety enclosed itself around my head.

I sighed through my nose stepping on the gas once the light flicked to green once again. The song switch to ‘Walking on Sunshine.’

Nope. Not very sunshiny.

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LeRoy stole my baby, my silver suv baby that I’d only known for fifteen minutes but my point still stands. Dad told me Hiram’s “assistant”’s name was actually Sapphire, pretty like the stone. He then sped away blasting some musical soundtrack I couldn’t quite catch. Leaving me to turn and face my impending doom.

I stood dumbly on the bottom of the stairs. Watching as groups of students and loners pass me. Some would give me weird looks as they did. I would too, seeing a new kid standing like an idiot at the bottom of the steps in forty degree cold.

Before I could gather my thoughts and stop the oncoming panic attack. Someone approaches me calling out my name I snap my blurry vision up to the feminine voice. The girl looked no older than me, I tilted my head confused but thankful she broke me out of my panic.

“Uh— yeah that’s me.” God. Why’d I sound so small.

The girl smiles down at me from her elevated height on the stairs. At this angle I was able to see her bleached, maybe too bleached blonde hair. Dark jet black roots poking back out from the dye job.

Bad dye job girl had on pure white earmuffs, her whole outfit was white actually. Save for the light gold puffer jacket she wore. My gaze flicked to my own jacket, my favorite jacket. Mine definitely was cheaper and I remember saving up for at least a month. I’d spent a pretty penny on it, bad dye job girl was pretty too I guess.

“Hey! I’m Sapphire!” the fake blonde smiled bigger though it wavered at the corners, she outstretched her hand to mine.

I smiled too, putting my hand in hers. “Hi! It’s so nice to meet you! I’m so sorry I feel so bad my dads dumped me on you.” We shook before releasing hands, she pulled hers back quicker than I expected. Students stopped whispering and staring too I noticed.

Sapphire shrugs, “It’s not a big deal especially for that– oh let me see your chart.” She cleared her throat and I fished my phone from my jackets pocket. Pulling up a screenshot of my classes. Sapphire’s mittenened hand all but snatched my phone. She made a noise I couldn’t decipher and tossed the phone back.

I fumbled to catch it.

We made our way into the school, through the front doors. Sapphire toured me around the school. It was humorous how huge this place was. It had every room a school could need, even actual locker rooms with stalls. Surely gym wouldn’t be so bad then.

Sapphire asked, well demanded for my phone again, I complied. I watched as she put her phone number in my contacts, swiping out her own phone. She message me a map of the school, this time handing my phone back to me.

Maybe she’s just antisocial.

I wondered as bad dye job girl ranted on about the school, I was only half listening. She asked about Hiram’s school and I had to tune myself back in. I tried my best to answer all of her, really creepily detailed questions but the lack of information seemed to ignore her as she pulled a face.

Yeah. Total personality switch.

I grimaced.

As we walked I had to pause to look around the school. Circling back to the school being huge, Yeah it was massive. Multiple buildings for everything almost, one of the three story buildings was just a library in itself! Maybe I could rot away to study there. All the buildings connected so we didn’t have to track back outside to the cold and I got to bask in the heat of the hallways.

“So, do you do anything with music like your dads?” Sapphire asked after she was finished talking about herself, how we got to talking only about her I had no clue.

I nodded anyway.

“Yeah, Dads had me classically trained for singing ever since I was able to hold a note. I play some instruments too.” I explained a relaxed, easier smile growing. All that panic from before harmoniously melting away as I spoke of my favorite thing, what I grew up with.

Sapphire nodded satisfied with my answer this time. Sapphire stopped suddenly and so did I. She gestured to the door which was my first class for the day before she spoke again.

“You should join the choir, we had some weirdos drop out. So we need people to hum and sway in the background or whatever.” She seemed uninterested. Her suggestion didn’t seem like a question.

Shitshitshit

She tossed her bleached hair over her shoulder, turning her hand palm down to inspect her nails. I shifted awkwardly on my feet anxiously tapping the heel of my foot into the ceramic floor. Anxiety please you’re not actually being put on the spot. But.. what answer would she prefer? I didn’t mind being in the back of the choir, I came back to the city to be successful on my own without anyone else’s help, not even dads.

Sapphire’s obstinate blue gaze jumped to mine and I stumbled over my words gasping out any response.

“Fun!! Or Uh- sounds fun yeah I’ll join!”

An even more awkward smile spread across my lips. I spat out a yes befofe I could really even think about it. What is with it with me and spontaneity today??god so stupid.

Sapphire however, seemed to enjoy my response as an amused smile rose to her mouth. “Great! We get together on Friday’s after school.”

A bell ringing pulled us out of the awkward conversation, ha saved by the bell. Sapphire sighed stepping back

“I’ll see you later, shoot me a text if there’s any trouble.” She called out a few feet away, bidding me goodbye with an almost princess-esqe wave.

I returned the wave with the best smile I could muster. As she turned a corner my smile fell.

Aren’t choirs supposed to have auditions for newcomers?

My hand fell down to my side as I mentally slapped myself I wanted to scream.

The damn sheet music!!

[trulybetty]

Welcome to New York | (Dieter Bravo x OFC)

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Warnings: alcohol, smoking & zero angst, promise! Summary: Bryony attends a housewarming party in New York City, where surrounded by the laughter and energy of the party, she encounters Dieter Bravo for the first time. Sparks fly hinting at an unexpected connection that could forever change their lives. AO3: Linked

A/N: in passing with @gnpwdrnwhiskey last week I mentioned that I didn't think I knew how to write without adding angst, so this was my challenge to myself to try and do so! Also to give Bryony and Dieter a little reprieve from the drama! Still not 100% on this piece, throwing it at the wall and seeing if it sticks, so feedback, as always, is welcomed! Also, if it's not apparent, the poster in the graphic is not a visual of Bryony.

Welcome to New York.

2017

The night air was warm, winter was turning to spring and the city of New York was buzzing. It was Bryony's first time in the city, she had travelled to other cities in the US before. But hadn't really understood the call of New York. The idea of a city that never slept made her feel exhausted and wasn't that just London? A city she was already too familiar with. However, that was all until she had touched down earlier that day and taken a cab from JFK to her hotel across from Central Park.

The cab ride from the airport had been an experience in itself. As she zipped through the bustling streets, past towering skyscrapers and neon-lit billboards, she couldn't help but be swept up in the city's vibrancy. Each sight was a stark contrast to the tranquillity of her native South Wales and the sophisticated charms of London.

Gina and Lloyd's brownstone, nestled in the heart of Brooklyn, was Bryony's destination. Arriving just as the sun began to dip below the city skyline, casting long shadows and bathing everything in a soft, golden light, she felt a twinge of anticipation coursing through her veins.

Bryony, having watched enough Sex and The City, knew all too well that these brownstones didn't come cheap. Despite being thirty-two and having almost a decade's worth of experience in the TV and film production industry, the magnitude of the property's value was somewhat intimidating. She couldn't shake off the feeling of being somewhat out of her depth.

Bryony had grown up in Cardiff, in a close-knit community where her grandmother and both her aunts lived just down the street. When her career meant a move to London, she found a roommate in her brother. Rhys, retired from professional rugby, had a few international tours with Wales and had a good run with a professional club. Both of which had ended with a crushed disc and falling back on his law degree that he swore he'd never need. That arrangement had ended when they could no longer stand the sight of each other, and Bryony subsequently moved to a modest flat in Islington.

She paused at the doorstep at the top of the stairs, adjusting her dress, a nervous habit, she tried to quell the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She inhaled deeply, the scent of the city, a blend of fresh flowers, car exhausts, and tantalizing wafts from a nearby pizzeria, filling her lungs.

Arriving in New York also marked a pivotal chapter in Bryony's career. She was currently basking in the glow of being the lead producer of the BBC overnight sensation, 'Dark Waters'. The engrossing drama had captivated the nation for six tension-filled weeks, catapulting Bryony's name when her relentless efforts to launch the show were finally acknowledged. The waves of her success were still riding high, the demand for her talent leverage that had carried her across the Atlantic.

Taking one last moment to gather herself, she reached out and pressed the doorbell.

As the heavy oak door swung open, Bryony was embraced by not only the welcoming chorus of laughter and lively conversation that escaped the townhouse, but the arms of Gina, who upon seeing Bryony nearly took her off of her feet despite her petite stature. The diminutive blonde held her at arm's length, her chic bob bouncing with the infectious energy that matched her smile.

Gina had a good ten years of experience in the industry when she'd first taken Bryony under her wing in her first years. Gina had been a guiding light then, her role as a producer instrumental in shaping Bryony's growing career. Over the years they continued to work on various projects together, and as they did, their friendship grew.

"You made it!" Gina exclaimed in excitement.

Bryony smiled "Wouldn't have missed it!" she replied. "Congratulations on the new home! It’s beautiful!"

Bryony followed Gina into the awe-inspiring brownstone, where New York charm met Gina's exquisite taste in decor. The walls were already adorned with photographs and personal mementoes, reflecting their new home's warm character.

Basking in the glow of the lively gathering, Gina turned to Bryony, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Thank you, love. I can't tell you how thrilled I am to have you here." She squeezed Bryony's arm in excitement, "And brace yourself - I've invited someone who I'm convinced will be your one true love!"

Bryony's brow arched in a mix of curiosity and playful exasperation. "Wow, dinner and my future husband? You do know how to throw a party Gin!" She was all too familiar with Gina's relentless penchant for playing cupid, this wasn't the first time.

"Lay off the matchmaking, Gina," came a voice from behind them, rich with amusement. They both turned to find Lloyd, his face split into a wide grin, cradling a glass tumbler in his hand. "I'm pretty sure Bryony has had her fill of your romantic schemings for a lifetime by now." He extended the tumbler in his hand to Bryony, his smile infectious. "A warm welcome to our abode, Bryony. Gin and tonic, if my memory serves me right?"

"Right as always, Lloyd," Bryony responded as she accepted the glass.

Lloyd exuded an aura of sophistication that was almost tangible. He was the kind of man who could spout lines of profound prose at the drop of a hat, and then be found at the heart of good gossip. His charm was effortless, much like the characters he brought to life on stage, making him a beloved figure within the New York theatre circles.

Gina crossed her arms, feigning a pout. "I'll have you both know that I'm an exceptional matchmaker."

Bryony laughed, the sound echoing lightly in the lively atmosphere. She took a refreshing sip of her drink, the cool tang of the gin and tonic a welcome contrast to the warm room. "The jury is still out on that one Gina."

Gina shot Bryony a grin, her eyes twinkling. "Well, don't be surprised if someone manages to catch your attention tonight."

With a playful roll of her eyes, Bryony retorted, "We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"

---

As the night went on, Bryony navigated the party, pushing herself out of her comfort zone to network and engage in conversations with various attendees. Excusing herself from another discussion about the nuances of British television, she headed off in search of another drink.

Surprisingly the kitchen was empty, the sleek expanse of the island held an array of dishes wrapped in anticipation of dinner. Bryony’s stomach grumbled reminding her that she’d eaten no more than the limp sandwich that had been served prior to her plane's arrival to JFK. Eyeing a box of crackers, she opened the box, popping one into her mouth as she turned her attention to making herself a drink. As the ice cubes clinked in the glass, Bryony savoured a brief pause from the energetic ambience of the party.

Lost in her thoughts, she was startled when a voice broke the silence. "Looks like we both found the one quiet spot in this place," the voice said.

Bryony jumped, startled by the sudden sound of another person in the kitchen. The box of crackers nearly slipped out of her hands as she spun around, her gaze meeting that of a face she certainly didn't recognize. He was tall, with dark brown eyes that twinkled with amusement at her surprise, and an easy smile that complimented his features. He stood casually against the kitchen island as if he belonged there.

Bryony felt her cheeks flush as she stammered out a response. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

He responded with a deep, hearty chuckle, "Apologies. Wasn't my intention to startle you. I'm in search of a refill myself."

Bryony eyed his half-drained glass of bourbon and raised an eyebrow. Unfazed, he winked at her and polished off the remaining liquor. "As I said, in dire need of a refill. Call me Dieter. Dieter Bravo."

Bryony suppressed a smirk, finding it hard to believe that his name could be real.

"Bryony," she countered back, mimicking his theatrical name presentation, "Bryony Morgan."

"Your accent gives you away, Bryony," Dieter said in a low voice as he leaned around her to access the cabinet to her left. His shoulder grazed hers, sending sparks through her. He was close enough that his hips brushed against hers as he reached for the stash of premium spirits. "Seems like you're a long way from home, no?" A hint of a flirtatious smile tugged at the corner of his lips, pulling something within Bryony along with it.

"I suppose I am," Bryony said and gave him the cliff notes of her background. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she watched him select a bottle. "New York though is quite a bit different from London."

He chuckled, popping the cork off a bottle of vintage bourbon before taking a sniff. "That it is, Bryony. I've spent some time in London myself. Fine city, but it doesn't quite have the... chaos of New York, you know?"

Her soft laughter filled the warm, bustling atmosphere of the housewarming party. "I'll give you that. The chaos is definitely unique here."

Their eyes met as he poured the liquor, the amber liquid catching the light as it filled his glass. He held her gaze, a slow smile spreading across his face. There was something enticing about him, every bit of him demanded her attention.

"So, Bryony Morgan," he started, setting down the bottle and turning to face her. He leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "What brings you to Gina and Lloyd's party tonight?"

"Friends with Gina, we've worked on a few projects back in the UK over the years," Bryony replied, tracing the rim of her glass with a fingertip. “And of course, by proxy, that's how I know Lloyd.”

"Ah, working with Gina, that must be quite the adventure," Dieter chuckled, taking a sip of his bourbon. "She is one of the best in the business."

“How about you?” Bryony reached into the box of crackers, popping another into her mouth before offering the box to Dieter, “How do you know Lloyd and Gina?”

Dieter grinned, accepting a cracker from the box. "Lloyd and I go way back. He's quite the taskmaster when it comes to his stage productions. I'm currently starring in Lloyd's latest production. It's... interesting, to say the least. He's got a knack for the dramatic."

Bryony chuckled, her gaze meeting Dieters. "That he does. I've seen a few of his works. Quite compelling. And you? Do you enjoy the drama?"

"Depends on the day," Dieter answered with a shrug, a wry smile playing on his lips. "It can be... exhilarating. And other times, it's just exhausting."

Bryony found herself drawn in by his candour, the easy way he spoke about his work. There was a vibrancy that was hard to ignore.

He looked at her then, his gaze inquisitive. "So, what about you, Bryony? What brings you to the chaotic city of New York from the refined streets of London?"

“Work,” she replied simply as she took a sip of her drink, “there's the promise of work out in LA, so I'm meeting with some studios this week for interviews and meetings. I'm also hoping I get a chance to take a look around New York, I've never been here before.”

Dieter clutched at his chest dramatically, “Never been to New York before? How is that even possible?”

"I guess I never saw the appeal," Bryony replied, the crinkle at the corner of her eyes betraying her amusement.

“Well, how are your first impressions?"

"Honestly," she began, a light chuckle escaping her as she glanced down at her watch. "I’ve been here less than twenty-four hours, and most of that time was spent in a taxi or adjusting to my hotel room." She met his gaze again, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

He smirked, taking a thoughtful sip of his bourbon. "Well, the beauty of New York can't be appreciated in the back of a taxi or from a hotel room window," he responded, setting his glass down on the counter. "There's a certain life to it, a rhythm that you have to immerse yourself in to really understand."

“Anything, in particular, you recommend I see first?” Bryony asked, emboldened by the gin she'd already consumed on top of the jetlag.

"New York?" Dieter arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. "The city has endless possibilities. A little exploration could be just what you need."

Bryony lifted her glass to her lips in the hope to hide the blush she felt creeping up her cheeks. She couldn't deny the appealing prospect of Dieter Bravo as her personal city guide. "That so?" she replied, her tone playfully challenging. "Sounds almost like an invitation."

He grinned, his eyes twinkling in a way that promised fun and adventure. "Consider it an opportunity, Bryony. An opportunity to see the city through the eyes of a man who's lived and loved here."

"Aren't you a busy man? You must have a lot going on," she retorted, trying to keep the conversation light.

A dismissive shrug accompanied his smug grin. "Oh, there's always room for one more adventure," he replied, casting her a playful wink over the top of his bourbon.

Bryony's unexpected laughter surprised them both. "Adventure, you say? Is that how you see me – a damsel in need of a thrilling rescue?"

"Not exactly," he said, the flirtatious veneer fading for a moment, replaced by something more genuine. "I think you're someone who's about to embark on an exciting new chapter, and I'd like to be part of that story, even if it's just for a brief moment."

Dieter's words echoed between them, the background chatter of the party fading into a muffled hum. There was an honest charm about Dieter, an attraction that went far beyond his clean-cut Hollywood looks. She studied him thoughtfully, his proposition appearing less a daunting task and more a promising adventure in the grandiosity of New York City.

A subtle rush of excitement coursed through her veins, her cheeks blooming with a soft blush. Generally, the thought of navigating a social situation like this with a stranger would have her mind plotting potential escape plans. Yet, with Dieter, she felt inexplicably at ease, wrapped in the warmth of his charismatic pull.

Taking a deep breath, she locked eyes with him and, with a spark of anticipation, accepted his offer, “I think I'd enjoy that.”

---

As the dinner call was announced, Bryony reluctantly extricated herself from the comfort of the kitchen, following in Dieter's wake. He was soon swallowed up by the crowd, enticed away by a familiar voice. Dieter cast her a playful wink before weaving his way through the sea of people, his name echoed around him.

Much to Bryony's frustration, Dieter sat further down the table. However, he could be heard over the thrum of conversations. Throughout the course of dinner, her attention kept gravitating towards him. The way he held court, the way he drew people in, it was undeniably captivating.

"Unparalleled, really," he expressed fervently, his hands dancing in the air to emphasise his words. "The enchanting realities we conjure up on stage are truly astounding." He passionately shared captivating anecdotes and viewpoints, mesmerizing his captivated audience with his fervent words and expressive gestures

His laughter, enchanting and infectious, would fade into a knowing smile whenever their eyes met. Yet, every time they found a chance to navigate through the crowd towards one another, the currents of the party would sweep them away. Another admiring compliment here, a spirited debate there.

As the evening wore on, it felt as though the number of guests had multiplied. Bryony found herself questioning the architectural integrity of the brownstone, surprised that it could hold such a vast variety of party-goers. Gina and Lloyd, the soiree's hosts, had long since disappeared into the vibrant mass of their guests, leaving her adrift amidst the waves of well-wishers and hangers-on.

Eventually, needing a breather from the crowd, and the repetition of hearing people try and imitate her accent, Bryony sought refuge in the cool New York night of Gina and Lloyd's garden. The slight chill was a soothing contrast to the stifling warmth of the party, and she welcomed it, wrapping her arms around herself. Eyes closed, head tilted up towards the sky, she took a deep breath. The nagging pangs of jetlag reminded her it had been almost a full day since she'd left Gatwick, yet she tried to put that aside.

Her moment of peace was broken by a gentle voice, rich with intrigue, "Finally, didn't think I'd get to see you again this evening."

The sound of footsteps echoing against the flagstone pavement announced Dieter's approach. In his hands, he balanced two filled-to-the-brim champagne glasses and a box of cigarettes. Wordlessly, he offered her one of the drinks, taking up a casual stance against the railing next to her. His dark eyes, sparkling under the dimly lit sky, darted her way, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

She returned his smile as she accepted the champagne. The crisp, cool bubbles of the drink served to heighten the pleasant chill of the evening.

As Dieter offered her the cigarette box, Bryony shook her head, "No thanks."

Unfazed, Dieter tilted the box toward himself, raising an eyebrow in silent query. Bryony gestured for him to go ahead. He then smoothly pulled out a cigarette, placing it between his lips with a lazy finesse that was impossible to ignore.

Captivated, Bryony watched as the dimly lit tip of his cigarette cast a warm glow onto his chiselled features. Dieter took a long, thoughtful drag, his posture subtly shifting to ensure the smoke veered away from her. Despite her personal aversion to the habit, she couldn't deny the allure the habit added to him.

When he finally released a slow stream of smoke into the air, he turned back to her with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling in the soft light. The silent intensity of his gaze ignited a familiar energy between them, a thrilling undercurrent that had been palpably present since their paths had crossed earlier in the evening.

“Managed to escape, then?” His voice was quiet, meant only for her, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy he displayed inside.

Bryony smiled, shrugging lightly. “Needed some air. It’s a bit much in there.”

A deep, resonating chuckle echoed from Dieter. His nod of agreement punctuated the understanding that passed between them as he savoured another puff. “Absolutely, it's quite the circus.” His eyes locked with hers in the sparse lighting, the soft intensity within them captivating her completely. The quietude that stretched between them was comfortable, each seeming to find solace in the other's company.

"Is it always this easy for you?" Bryony asked, playfully referring to the seamless charm he seemed to exude.

His shoulders moved in a casual shrug, his mischievous grin remaining in place, "Only with someone worth the effort." His statement, laced with flirtatious intent, hung in the air, amping up the tension between them.

Bryony blushed, "So, 'More Than I Should'," referring to Lloyds play that he'd mentioned he was starring in, "How's it coming along?" Her question attempted to keep the conversation casual, but there was no mistaking the flirtatious undertones.

Dieter exhaled a slow stream of smoke before answering, "It's intense," he confessed, his eyes following the trail of smoke. "Lloyd is a genius, and he’s pushing us to explore some profound emotional depths. The play has these intricate themes of love and loss that are quite compelling."

Bryony found herself nodding along. "I've been debating asking Lloyd for tickets. It sounds like an experience I shouldn't miss."

Dieter quirked a brow at her, "Why bother Lloyd when I can get them for you?" He challenged, his grin teasing and magnetic. "And I can do you one better. A dinner date after the show perhaps?"

"Really?" Bryony's surprise swiftly morphed into a delighted smile. "That's quite a generous offer, Mr. Bravo."

His response was a rumble of laughter, the sound warm and intimate. "Think of it as the first stop on Bravo New York experience," he quipped with a theatrical wave of his arm.

Bryony found herself laughing, charmed by his casual bravado. "A proposition like that is quite impossible to turn down. I'm in."

His eyes lit up at her acceptance, a spark of excitement dancing in them.

A yawn, wide and deep, escaped Bryony. She swiftly covered her mouth, but it was too late to hide. She laughed in embarrassment, "Sorry," she apologized, but it was barely a moment before another yawn surfaced.

Observing this, Dieter's lips curled into a smile. "Bryony my dear, I do believe your jet lag is catching up with you," he mused, "Perhaps it's time for Cinderella to consider her exit?"

Feigning a hurt expression, Bryony shot back, "Are you trying to get rid of me so soon?"

Dieter returned her playful jibe with a roguish grin. "On the contrary," he responded, his voice rich with amusement, "However, it wouldn’t do well for my reputation to have a lovely lady like you dozing off on me," he paused, his smile broadening, "Well, at least not because of my conversational skills."

Bryony’s laugh rang out, the sound brushing away her fatigue, if only for a moment. "Well, we certainly can't risk damaging your hard-earned reputation, can we?"

With a flourish, Dieter stubbed out the remnants of his cigarette and extended his arm to her. "Shall we?" He proposed, his tone layered with charm. "I owe you at least the courtesy of hailing you a cab."

Bryony bit her lip, taking appraise of the man before her. It wasn't as if she'd been lacking any attention on the romance front. Being currently single had been a choice for Bryony, she'd dedicated the last two years to her work on Dark Waters, determined to ensure its success. Her trip to New York however was initially intended for interviews and exploring the city's attractions. Dieter Bravo, on the other hand, was an unexpected surprise

Taking a deep breath, she linked her arm through his. "Alright, Dieter. Let's get a cab." She smiled gratefully at him. "You're quite the gentleman."

He returned her smile, the corner of his lips quirking up in a way that set her heart fluttering. "Only on occasion," he quipped as they started making their way out to the front of the townhouse.

Once outside, Dieter pulled out his phone and quickly typed something into it. He held it out to Bryony, the new contact page open, "Just making sure you can schedule your 'Bravo Tour' of New York," he teased, his tone a playful blend of humour and earnestness.

Accepting the phone, Bryony couldn't suppress her smile. Swiftly, she entered her number and hit 'save'. Regardless of the spontaneity of this evening, she knew one thing for certain: there was no doubt in her mind that she wanted to see him again.

Returning his phone, Bryony gave him a teasing smile, "I'll be expecting five-star service on this tour, Dieter." She could see the glint of excitement in his eyes, matching her own.

As their playful banter melted away, giving way to a comfortable, yet electrifying silence, an unspoken understanding passed between them. The air around them was charged with a palpable tension, a connection that neither of them could deny.

The late winter chill didn't bother Bryony as she stood under the muted glow of the street light, her eyes locked with Dieters. As he moved a step closer, erasing the minimal distance between them, a sense of anticipation knotted in her stomach. She was acutely aware of his presence - the intoxicating scent of his cologne, the broad expanse of his shoulders just inches from her, the defined angles of his jaw, and the alluring smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Taking her by surprise, Dieter gently cradled the back of her neck, his gentle fingertips tracing over her skin. A small gasp escaped her lips, and without thinking, her hands found their places - one on his firm chest, the other resting lightly on his hip.

He ran his tongue over his lips, a seemingly innocuous gesture that set her heart racing. The playful tilt of his head and the knowing look in his eyes made it clear he was aware of the effect he had on her.

He pulled back slightly, surprising her with a gentle gesture as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, creating a moment of sweet tenderness that left her stunned and craving for more.

The unexpected tenderness of Dieter's kiss to her forehead sent a rush of warmth coursing through Bryony, leaving her a little breathless. The hint of surprise must have registered on her face, because Dieter's face split into a self-deprecating grin, "I know, not my usual style." He said with a shrug.

Exhaustion was starting to make itself known, her brain fuzzy around the edges, but she couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips at his admission, "You don't say."

His hand still held at her neck, thumb gently stroking the bare skin of her collarbone. The night was quiet around them, leaving them standing alone under the streetlamp. New York’s nightlife was dwindling down into a softer lull, the noise distant. Their surroundings were forgotten for a moment as Bryony got lost in Dieter's deep-set eyes.

The sudden transition from a simmering tension to this tender intimacy left Bryony both surprised and yearning for more. She found herself captivated by Dieter, his proximity allowing her to notice the faint flecks of gold in his deep brown eyes. His warm breath fanning her face caused her to catch her own.

"Dieter..." she uttered his name, a whisper amidst the gentle night breeze. Her emotions were bubbling to the surface, threatening to spill over. The fatigue of the long day, mixed with the unexpected intimacy she was experiencing with Dieter, was a potent concoction that made her feel unsteady.

Responding to the bewilderment mirrored in her eyes, Dieter offered a small, soothing smile. He swept a loose lock of hair away from her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her jawline. The electrifying sensation this created stayed with her, a tantalizing suggestion of what might be.

"You're tired," he acknowledged softly. His thumb traced the contour of her jaw in a languid stroke, igniting a trail of goosebumps down her spine. Then, in a statement that contradicted his usual impulsive nature, he added, "The city can wait for you. And so can I."

His words hung in the night air, a promise that left Bryony both intrigued and more confused than before. For Dieter, who was accustomed to pursuing his desires with relentless intensity, this restraint was uncharted territory. He was aware of the profound impact his words had, a stark contrast to his typical behaviour. The unfamiliar sensation of patiently waiting, rather than chasing fervently, gave him a sense of strange satisfaction.

But as the horn of a taxi Dieter had flagged broke through the silence, Dieter reluctantly let go of Bryony. "Your chariot awaits," he said with a smirk, his hand lingering for a moment longer before he finally stepped forward to hold the taxi door open for her.

"Goodnight, Dieter Bravo,"

"Goodnight, Bryony Morgan," he replied.

As the cab pulled away, leaving a somewhat dazed Dieter on the sidewalk, Bryony couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning of their story. Little did she know, at that moment, just how drastically this unexpected rendezvous with Dieter Bravo would impact her future, transforming her world in ways she couldn't yet fathom.

---

As Bryony settled into the back of the taxi, the Brooklyn dissolving into a whirl of twinkling lights, she felt the familiar buzz of her phone from inside her purse.

Pulling it out, she noticed a new text message from Gina lighting up the screen.

"Sorry I missed you leaving babes, I hope you had a great time??? Coffee tomorrow? I didn't even get a chance to introduce you to that guy! He's a production assistant on Lloyd's latest show, James. I think you and him would hit it off! Love you lots, g'night xxx"

[ilovescaredysquirrel2]

Disney's going downhill again (kinda happy ngl)

Should I really be happy about this? I mean, people are going to start turning to the underrated non-Disney media now that the world's most overrated company is going downhill again after Inside Out 2 brought them back up with a few months of hype.

First, let's talk about the live action Snow White remake. As someone who hates the "original" movie from 1937 (I say original in quotation marks because there's so many Snow white adaptations throughout the years). I just don't like the old animated Disney version, no matter how much someone will argue with me. Yes, I seen it but I have not grown up with it. I understand it's hard for someone to hate it if they grew up enjoying it, which I don't understand how they could because there's so many things in it that would scare the kids, and also... Snow white is a teen and the prince is a grown man! You can clearly tell just by looking at the designs. Nothing wrong with Snow white as a character but I heard they were originally going to make her look different but changed it to her current design because they didn't want her looking "too mature" which is freaking gross. I mean, it's from 1937 and it was legal and apparently normal for grown men to be attracted to underage girls and marry them... but doesn't that make you want to watch the movie less? Like, it's not the Victorian era anymore so why are we watching movies from back then? I don't mind that they remade Snow White and the seven dwarves, it doesn't look that good anyway. However I'm still not hating on the live action remake as much as I hate on the original. Who needs the problematic Disney versions when we have Red Shoes & the seven dwarves, and Mirror Mirror? Heck, I'd even watch the Super Why version over the 90 year old cartoon Disney one.

Now my rant on Disney's Snow white is done, let's get Decendants (or is it Decendents? whatever) out of the way. The Decendants franchise is basically an Ever After High knock off, just as the first Toy Story is a Knock off of Raggedy Ann & Andy Musical Adventure. Regardless if you like Decendants or Toy Story, we can still acknowledge that originals existed before the Disney versions. Disney DOES make knock offs, you know. The Wild is an obvious knock off of the first Madagascar movie. Everybody's saying how bad the "Jaladdin" song is in the new Decendants movie but I saw a video by The Artistic Aloubell on YouTube and she explained how another song in the movie had a very bad message (I'm not sure if I should post a link to her video in post, but I'll post it in the comments if someone asks for it). The song was basically about how being evil is justified if you have a good reason to? I don't know honestly, I'm an adult and I had trouble figuring it out, imagine the children who the movie is meant for, trying to figure out the message. The kids watching Decendants probably think like "Oh the outfits are cool! I like her outfit and her blue hair!" not about the message, but still! At first glance the song seems cute but when that YouTube artist broke down the lyrics and explained it, it wasn't so cute. Everybody was hating on the "Jaladdin" song, though. The Jaladdin song actually made me laugh a little, when I saw the clip. Also, I haven't actually seen any of the Decendants movies so I don't know every single detail, I just know it's basically like Ever After High, they're the sons and daughters of Fairytale characters, that's why they had a goofy song with Aladdin. Also, I thought the "Rise of Red" was going to be Little Red Riding hood's daughter or something, but it's the Queen of Hearts? Wow, what a missed opportunity! (btw I like how they had a tribute to Cameron Boyce, may he rest in peace).

Now let's get to the sequels, after you probably read enough already. Disney doesn't need to make live actions of every movie, but I'm fine with the Snow white one, as i said before (I just wish they didn't cast Rachel Zegler). I think the fact that they're making sequels of everything is worse than live action remakes (however I don't think that Lilo & Stitch or Tangle need live action remakes, since they're not as outdated as Snow White or Cinderella). The Moana sequel doesn't look bad, but it doesn't beat the original movie (even though I think Maui's "You're Welcome" song is so annoying). I can tell that some of the animation doesn't look as detailed and well-rendered as the original did, plus they got the culture down to the T in the original. The sequel doesn't really display that, plus it looks like there's more action and less heart warming story than the original. Something about the trailer felt a bit off, but it doesn't look bad. Zootopia, sequel is where I get really pissed off though. Disney's like "Oh no! we're losing all our gay furry audience now that Zootopia is old news! Let's bring it back so they can fall back in love with their dream crush, Nick Wilde!" and yes, this is coming from someone who hates the original Zootopia for a multitude of reasons. In fact, Zootopia is the only modern Disney movie that I truly despise! Also, why are they making a Toy Story 5? We don't need a 5th Raggedy Ann & Andy knock off!

Anyway, if you came this far, thank you! If you don't agree with me on everything I said, that's fine but I hope I gave valid points. If not, feel free to argue with me in the comments! You don't have to always agree with me, let me know if you do or don't. PLEASE CHAT WITH ME IN THE COMMENTS!

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

Apparently, there is some hubbub going on over a newly announced spin-off of the PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN movie franchise that Disney is planning to go forward with. One of two, actually. There was another project that was set to star Margot Robbie as the lead, but it appears that Disney is more interested in another take on the classic Disney parks ride starring Ayo Edebiri.

And of course, the usual suspects, including the wannabe-edgelord dingus running what was once "Twitter", are complaining. They're big mad that Ayo, a Black American actress, is "replacing" Depp... Never mind that this movie is a FUCKING SPIN-OFF???

Also... All of a sudden, people *love* the PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN sequels now?

I was a teenager when most of the PIRATES sequels came out, and I remember them getting rather duff critical reception. Audiences kinda didn't stick around for them, either. They all opened huge, DEAD MAN'S CHEST with a record-breaking number at the time of its release (2006), but then dropped off and had blah multipliers. The 4th film, ON STRANGER TIDES, came out when I was 18. And I just remember it coming and going, whatever. And then the fifth one, again... Just a sort of "ugh, another one?" reaction. That fifth film, titled DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES in the U.S. (SALAZAR'S REVENGE, elsewhere), just did alright. Like, near-$800m is a great amount for any movie, but it was less than the other POTC sequels.

It wasn't a problem when other big movie franchises got reboots with all-new casts. Spider-Man has been played by like three different actors in live-action over the past three decades.

I guess enough time has passed for there to be this kind of intense nostalgia for these movies. That's cool, I guess. After all, filmtwitter never shuts the fuck up about the CGI on Davy Jones, and how the first three movies are Gore's through-and-through.

As for all this clinging to Depp's iconic Captain Jack Sparrow... As if it isn't PIRATES without him?

Pal... PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN, the original dark ride attraction, opened at Disneyland in 1967. Depp was about FOUR YEARS OLD when it opened. PIRATES existed long before he had a career or had some kind of prominence in the world, m'kay? PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN is more than just one single actor. And hey, why is it just him and not director Gore Verbinski? Writers Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio? Producer Jerry Bruckheimer? They all made that first movie happen, too, ya know.

My MAJOR concern with any new Pirates movie is whether it'll be its own beast or not. I feel a lot of live-action Disney movies as of late are not directed by anyone, they're made for the directors before they get to them. The director is hired, given a template that's already ready-made for them, and then BOOM movie done. Basically the MCU way of doing it. That's kinda how it feels to me. Same studio that won't make a third TRON movie from the previous film's director and the cast (which consists of the guy who directed massive blockbuster TOP GUN: MAVERICK and an actor who lead the massive blockbuster OPPENHEIMER, Disney do you hate money or something???), instead opting for Jared Leto. Like... Make it make sense.

So, if this Ayo-lead PIRATES spin-off goes through, I look forward to it! Pirates are cool, there's still a lot to play with regarding this concept, the ride is iconic. Just... Disney... Get a really good director and let them do their thing, alright? It'll be an all-timer if you do.

My ideal PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN would be animated. With designs based on Marc Davis' exemplary concept art and resembling a 1960s Xerox-era Disney film, like a high seas JUNGLE BOOK or something incorporating the original 1967-era music of the ride. That's what I would make, although I don't know if the public would fly out in droves to watch that, lol.

Anyways, I wanted to rant. People are being silly about a fucking pirate movie franchise.

[fearsmagazine]

ABRUPTIO - Review

DISTRIBUTOR: Pending

SYNOPSIS:  “Les Hackel hates his life. He works a dead-end job, was just dumped by his high-maintenance girlfriend, and still lives with his nagging mom. One night, he discovers a fresh incision behind his neck. His friend Danny tells him it's a bomb, that someone has implanted one in his neck, too. And then the messages start coming in, forcing Les to carry out missions with deadly results. Les is partnered up with a series of oddball characters to commit heinous tasks. The violence escalating around him, Les pieces together the clues that reveal the horrific plans to breed a monstrous race of beings.”

REVIEW: Evan Marlowe’s screenplay is a nice blend of satire, science fiction and political commentary. His main character, Les Hackel is an amalgamation of J.D. Sallainger, William S. Burroughs and Hunter Thompson character who suffers from more contemporary issues.

Marlowe’s screenplay takes a classic 50’s/60’s science fiction tale and adds a bit of Lynch and Cronenberg to it, then takes it to another level with amazing life-size puppet designs that give the film a surreal and trippy feel. Enhancing all that is a fantastic vocal cast that brings these performances to life and at times allows you to forget you are watching puppets. As Hackel’s life begins to spiral out of control he contours bizarre characters that he is accepting of, unlike Dorothy in the land of Oz. Marlowe keeps Hackel grounded and easily accepting of the deadly tasks he is assigned without questioning them. When the police become involved they are aware and accepting of everything Hackel has done, but there is something lurking in his past that they are trying to get him to admit to. Marlowe seizes and engages the viewer’s attention with this wickedly delightful tale that ultimately pulls back the curtain in the final act to expose the story’s dark secret. For all its freakish elements the story builds tension and suspense to culminate in a shocking release.

With 30 credits to his name, features and shorts, the production values of the film showcase Marlowe’s talent as a director, cinematographer and editor. He obtains performances from both his voice actors and puppeteers that bring these characters to life.  I enjoyed their work as there was such a life quality to their performance, yet there was something reminiscent of the human puppets of the Jim Henson studio. Given the grotesqueness of several of the character designs, the film is still beautiful to look at. There are several scenes that are almost monologues, or where characters discuss social or philosophical issues, and the director magically edits the sequences creating energy and a nice pacing. The film took several years to complete. While he did not have to worry about his puppets aging, the film’s execution and look are cohesive and seamless. The gory special effects are intense and very lifelike, and reminded me of some of the early films of Peter Jackson. The score by Patrick Savage and Holeg Spies adds another level to the film as it accentuates the visuals, the action, and adds another dimension to Hackel.

ABRUPTIO features a first-rate cast of actors voicing these characters. Rather than going with performances that are caricatures, they create characters that have peculiar ticks that flown through the puppet designs to enchant the viewer. Some of the actors are clearly recognizable, a few become apparent when viewing the credits.  Actor Sid Haig voices Sal in one of his final film appearances.

ABRUPTIO is currently doing the festival circuit, and while I highly recommend seeing it in a theater, if there is a streaming opportunity don’t pass it up. Evan Marlowe delivers a mad-cap genre classic full of dark humor and gore. It is a ride not soon forgotten. Marlowe is a talented visionary and I am excited to see what he serves up next.

CAST (voices): James Marsters, Hana Mae Lee, Jordan Peele, Christopher McDonald, Robert Englund, Darren Darnborough, Rich Fulcher and Sid Haig. CREW: Director/Screenplay/Cinematographer/Editor - Evan Marlowe; Producers - Kerry Finlayson & Kerry Marlowe; Score - Patrick Savage & Holeg Spies; Lead Puppet Designer & Fabricator - Jeffrey S. Farley; Lead Puppeteer - Danny Montooth; Visual Effects Designer - John Sellings. OFFICIAL: www.abruptio.com FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/AbruptioFilm TWITTER: N.A. TRAILER: https://youtu.be/MUGGBqrYL1A RELEASE DATE: Pending, a selection at numerous film festivals

**Until we can all head back into the theaters our “COVID Reel Value” will be similar to how you rate a film on digital platforms - 👍 (Like), 👌 (It’s just okay),  or 👎 (Dislike)

Reviewed by Joseph B Mauceri

[themovieblogonline]

The tide is turning with Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom!

Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom will finally see Jason Momoa dive into dangerous waters once more. The movie will be released on December 20th after three rounds of re-shoots. The trailer opens up with a bit of a recap, informing viewers that Arthur Curry is now a husband, a father, and oh yeah! The King of Atlantis! But it’s not looking like a happy ending is in sight for Arthur just yet. We see that, much to his displeasure, he has to team up with his brother Orm (Patrick Wilson). Why? To go for another round against arch-nemesis Black Manta (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II). That’s right, Black Manta is still determined to get his revenge after Arthur killed his father, and he will be using the power of the Black Trident to cause carnage. In this sequel, we are going to learn more about the vast depths of Atlantis, whilst untangling Arthur’s own complicated family life. You can expect an action-packed water ride, with strong family themes along the way to keep it grounded. Amber Heard, Willem Dafoe, Temuera Morrison, Dolph Lundgren, and Nicole Kidman are also all set to return. Aquaman And the Lost Kingdom is Directed by James Wan (The Conjuring/Saw). https://youtu.be/FV3bqvOHRQo Also, if you've been living under a rock, you might have missed the huge amount of controversy surrounding the release of the Aquaman sequel. Due to this, it apparently nearly got to the point where marketing for the film was going to be completely abandoned. Last year it was also announced that James Gunn and producer Peter Safran were helming DC Studios to bring us the future of DC. This announcement ended up deflating the excitement for a lot of movies and TV shows that were still left to be released. You simply didn't know if your favourite DC character was going to appear in any future projects. This lack of understanding made it so you felt like you didn't want to commit to anything. Aquaman can be quite a heavy watch, in the sense that there is just so much CGI that it actually strains your eye to watch it (Or maybe that’s just me!). Once you get used to that, you start to embrace this colourful underwater world that is actually pretty cool to witness. Jason Momoa is well cast, and he brings a level of rebellion to the character of Arthur Curry AKA Aquaman. It obviously works well because the 2018 movie enjoyed a tidal wave of success, and it quickly became the highest-grossing movie in the DCEU. As I mentioned earlier, this is the last DCEU movie before James Gunn and Peter Safran show their cards. Fingers crossed that this era ends on a mighty high note. So, what would you like to see from the final DCEU movie, and how excited are you to see Jason Momoa return as Aquaman? Read the full article

[ellevandersneed]

Kamala Harris spent a large chunk of the tail end of her campaign trying to appeal to the median republican voter and lost. "dems are a minority" in the sense that the voter difference in the 2024 election amounts to a difference of less than 3%. Trump still got less votes this time around than Biden achieved in 2020. The average voter is not ride or die for any particular candidate or, really, any particular party. The majority of voters are currently registered independent, half of which "lean" republican. This does not mean that they are ideologically, inherently aligned with Trump and crave his policy, or are staunchly anti-abortion and pro-Israel. People vote because there is a psychological expectation to choose A or B, and as Harris constantly told people she "wouldn't be much different from Biden," which, for a lot of people, meant that the economy would not change for the better. US Americans seem more interested in a lower cost of living than anything, and I imagine the allure of Trump, who again, promises "something different" gave them a potential "out" from rising costs. You talk to me about how anyone offering a "simple solution" is a fool or an extremist, but you are also vastly oversimplifying things (both the US election, US democracy as a whole, and Israel).

"But whatever the right or wrong of 1947 was it was 80 years ago." OK. Let's drop the past and look at the present. It makes sense to think that Israeli Jews have a right to live where they are born, sure. Simple, straightforward morality. Do the Palestinian people have that same right? Amnesty International posits that the state of Israel is committing the crime of apartheid against Palestinians living in Israel and in the occupied territories.

Here's another for you.

The Jerusalem-based nonprofit, B'Tselem, outlines how the Israeli government demolishes the houses of Palestinians suspected of committing crimes (or, what is much more common, suspected of being *related* to Palestinians suspected of committing crimes) as a form of "collective punishment," forcing those Palestinians to relocate. If the US government did this to its black and/or Hispanic citizens, how would you feel?

Human Rights Watch put out a report citing several people who have held high ranking positions in the Israel government, who admit to an apartheid state created by Israel and used against the Palestinian people.

The Israeli government segregates Palestinians based on race, blocks aid from going into Gaza, and bombs people indiscriminately.

The first link I share in this reply, from Amnesty International, has this to say on the de jure discrimination against Palestinians in Israel and the Occupied Palestinian Territories:

Israel denies Palestinian citizens their rights to equal nationality and status, while Palestinians in the OPT face severe restrictions on freedom of movement. Israel also restricts Palestinians’ rights to family unification in a profoundly discriminatory manner: for example, Palestinians from the OPT cannot gain residency or citizenship through marriage, which Jewish Israelis can.

So there is clear discrimination against one type of person, but not against another.

We can talk about the war crimes Israel committed during Operation Cast Lead during the 2006 "Gaza War," the war crimes committed by Israel during the invasion of Lebanon, or the war crimes committed by Israel during the Six Day War. Most moral army in the world, folks! Clearly nothing has happened since 1947; the Palestinians, who are all apparently to blame for anything Hamas does, though I doubt you'd think that all Israeli Jews are to blame for the extreme actions of it's government and "Defense" Force," (but hey "it's the only democracy in the middle east, and since majority rules in a democracy according to you, I guess the majority of Israeli Jews love committing genocide! Somehow I doubt this) just need to keep their heads down and believe in peace and order (not complaining while the Israeli government displaces, starves, and murders them.)

Change, or go fuck yourself.

was watching this video the other day and Ilan Pappe makes a pretty good point, where the reason why Israel doesn't have a major left wing (and if it did at one point, it definitely doesn't anymore) is because people can see through the logical fallacy of "progressive settler colonialist genocide" and I feel like the same thing is happening with the Democratic Party in the US, where you can't be the party of social equality and violent imperialism at the same time without becoming a walking contradiction, and this is probably why a lot of leftists get filtered out at the lower levels of the party while the leadership remains staunchly conservative in everything other than slogan

[cenizasdenaranjo]

Fanfics en mi celular - parte 2

Joder la parte uno fue enorme, peeeero no llega ni a rozar los de MDZS... pero eso lo dejaré para el final.

STAR WARS

Second Chances by Lorixjake

Capitulo 14

Ben Kenobi dies on board the Death Star. Instead of becoming one with the Force, he meets his old Master and is given the opportunity to go back in time to try and prevent Anakin’s fall. Can he save his best friend or is he doomed to watch it all happen a second time?

HOMESTUCK

Take my Hand, Take my Heart by bloomissing

Capitulo 2

You know that Dave was raised to fight, but to you, everything about him seems to come from a much gentler world than your own. Just like the little world you’ve built together on this meteor.

>Dave: survive three years on this rock by MadSeason (naive_wanderer)

Growing up on a flying meteor is hard work. You know this from experience.

TG: dude what is this piece of shit you just sent me CG: TO PUT IT IN YOUR HUMAN TERMS: CG: IT’S A FUCKING LOVE STORY, DAVE.

Well, it's a bit more than that.

Over My Head by aceAdoxography, Jadells

Karkat accidentally hits Dave with his car and, upon finding out that he's concussed and has some broken bones, guiltily agrees to take care of him until he heals. Soulmate au

Songs Made on the Meteor by apocalypticTaco

Once the train of aimless tree blabber has left the station, you remember why you agreed to meet up in the first place. Leaning forward to sit up properly, you turn to Dave.

“So,” you say, “what did you want to show me?”

“Oh! Yeah, I forgot about that, sorry. The topic just fucking strayed from me like some kind of toddler seeing a candy store and waddling away from mom. Chubby little bastard gets me this time. Here.” He plops out one of those music tables onto his lap, and motions for you to come closer. - (It's music, and along the way they fall in love.)

Short Circuits, Sudden Endings by uncle_edgelord

Capitulo 3

Your name is Dave Strider.

You really wish you could remember everything.

Shadows of Ourselves by devilsalwayscry

Capítulo 3

The Game is over. You've won.

But it was a long, hard, painful victory, and the rewards have a catch, and you're all a little broken. But you'll stick together anyway because that's just what you do. You help each other cope and somehow in the end you'll make it through.

Merits and Faults of Intriguing Alien Biology by Lacertae

Capitulo 3 (omg, cuantos capitulos 3)

Karkat's first experience with human biology leaves him quite interested and a tad bit more obsessed with humans and their weird, creepy bodies than he would like to admit.

As for Dave, he has feelings of his own to consider, and things somehow work out.

Karkat/Dave, written for the kink meme. Plot more 'serious' than the summary makes it seem like.

Paint the Roses Red by EchoResonance

Capitulo 3

*Humanstuck high school AU* You can't love someone else, and you can't expect someone else to love you. Not when you can't love yourself. It takes a special kind of person to make you understand what that means, though, and an even more special person to help you embrace yourself. Sometimes, if you're very, very lucky, this person will find you all on their own, and they will never really know about the spell that they cast on you because you were too busy working your own accidental magic on them.

I spy by Royalrastafariannaynays

Capitulo 18

You're just trying to get home, have a peaceful trip, stay as calm as a troll like you can until you get back to your moirail. All that shit. You didn't expect to make any lasting connections on the train, especially ones that live in your area. You definitely didn't expect to meet anyone quite like Dave Strider. Apparently the universe likes to prove you wrong.

Somehow after that train ride, he fuses himself into your life. Another stubborn fucking barnacle with an uncanny ability to inconvenience you at every possible moment. Even while sleeping. But somehow, despite all the trouble, you still feel like he has the potential to make your life infuriatingly better. And you definitely can't act on it or let him know. Definitely.

Catch my Cold (reflections of a sick troll) by CaffeinatedCopyeditor

A self-indulgent short sequel to Catch my Eye (Reflected in the Cinema Screen) because I am ill and I like hurt/comfort.

Its cute its fluffy its dave looking after his boyfriend what more do you want.

The Calm Is Terrifying When The Storm Is All You've Known by HappiKatt

There were two kinds of trolls who went to Earth: rich shitheads with too much money and free time, and desperate assholes who couldn’t survive on Alternia, even with the best efforts of the young Condesce. Karkat hated the planet almost immediately, but with his home planet too dangerous for mutants, he really didn’t have any choice but to hide out on this weird little diurnal planet. At least he’d be safe. Or so he thought, right before blundering his way into an accidental friendship with the son of an anti-troll terrorist.

Slow burn, shifting perspectives; romance really isn't the focus here but it'll still play a significant part; extra content warnings will be posted with each relevant chapter.

all flowers (in time) bend towards the sun by Miss_Nihilist

"Maybe sex is difficult and no one ever told us."

Karkat shakes his head. "Maybe that's how it worked on your putrid planet, but sex on Alternia has to be easy. Did you miss everything I've said about us literally being fucking culled on the spot if we can't perform for the drones?"

"No, bro, I think you're missing the point. That's reproduction, which is easy. I'm talking about sex." When Karkat only continues to stare blankly, Dave turns red. "You know, um…" He ducks his head and mutters, so quiet that Karkat barely hears him, "Making love. Or whatever."

Oh.

In which Karkat's inability to relax causes difficulties in the bedroom. Dave talks him through it.

Crash Course of Planet Earth by TurkeyCat

Karkat escapes his home planet from being culled with the help of his friends. After sweeps of travel he crash lands on a distant planet named Earth. Lost and confused, a really cool human takes him in and helps him navigate his new life on Earth.

The Eurydice Suite, v2.0 by callmearcturus

Dream-sharing: a highly illegal little industry in which agents delve into people's dreams, and unearth their deepest secrets and memories.

Within this business, the Strider-Lalondes are known as the best there is — until Dirk Strider gets his fool-ass trapped within the confines of his own subconscious, with his Auto-Responder playing malicious prison warden.

To save him, the best and brightest dreamers in the world will have to form a team. Backed by the token rich friend, lead by the surliest extractor ever bribed out of retirement, haunted by the shade of the latest, greatest agent in the biz, and on the run through a dangerous tiered dream in a hostile mind... It's going to take a miracle to pull this one off.

Bring You Down by acedavestrider

“I know this is like, super fucking weird,” he says with a small southern accent, adjusting a bag over his shoulder. “Letting a dude you’ve never met before into your house and all. I swear I’m not like… the fucking Zodiac Killer or anythin’ like that.”

“I don’t really care,” you say honestly, overly tired. “Even if you are a murderer as long as you clean up all the blood you’re good in my book.”

Dave breathes out a small laugh, exhaling once through his nose. “The bar is too low, dude.”

Beyond The Stars by cedarbranch

Karkat Vantas was a mutant. Rejected by the universe for his cherry blood, he searched for a way, any way, to show everyone that he was worth noticing. He thought the invasion would be the perfect opportunity. He would kill some humans, get some glory, and prove himself to be more than a freak. What could go wrong?

Dave Strider was just a teenager. With an abusive brother and not much else, he kept himself moving, leaping from one distraction to the next. He just wanted something to change.

They would both get what they wanted, but in a way neither of them would have ever seen coming.

Directed to Fail by what_hasnt_been_taken_yet

Karkat spent the last five years of his life ignoring his friends to finish writing the greatest romcom film of all time. Now, he needs a director.

Fanfics que no leí en su momento y ya no podré jamás: 1

[krethes]

@wolfstarmicrofic Day Twenty-Five: curl

@theresthesnitch bullied me (it wasn't hard) into another firefighter AU "micro"fic. Only mildly NSFW this time.

Read: Part One (Wildfire), Part Two (Inhale), Part Three (Accident), Part Four (Popsicle).

Days off are so rare and so precious, and tandem days off are nearly unheard of, so when they do happen, Remus wants to spend the whole day curled up with Sirius on their couch eating junk food and reading or watching television or doing things that normal couples with normal lives get to do. Such was not the case for today, because they apparently owed Andromeda a favor, though for the life of him, Remus can't remember why...

Remus knew something bad was going to happen the moment Nymphadora—sorry, "Tonks" now—showed up at the playground with purple, green, and blue hair. Andromeda just smirked when she dropped her off, told Sirius (not her child) to have fun, told Remus "good luck", and promptly got the fuck out of there.

Sirius had that look in his eye. The one that said he's about to do something exceptionally stupid. Logic and Reason (lifelong foes of Sirius Black outside of work) go flying out the window when faced with the indominatable will and fire of his little cousin, and Remus just has to hang on for the ride and run damage control.

On Nym- Tonks's sixth birthday, Sirius gave himself a concussion trying to beat her record at popping balloons taped to the ceiling with a unicorn helmet strapped to his head. On her eighth birthday, Sirius ate so many hot dogs he was sick for three days (but he'd won the contest, so it was #worthit, apparently).

Today isn't a birthday, just a favor they're doing for Andi so she can Ted can have a nice day out at a spa, but Remus can already see where this is going.

"Race you," Tonks challenges Sirius, and before Remus can even warn them both that the ground is wet from the morning's rain, they're off. Miraculously, they survive the dead sprint to the swings, and again cheat death or dismemberment despite swinging so high Tonks nearly does a loop. The jungle gym maze itself, while posing quite the challenge to directionally-deficient and grace-lacking tonks, still results in no injuries beyond a few scrapes and bruises.

Remus exhales. Perhaps he'd been too hasty in his judgment. Sirius is, after all, a professional firefighter and has a great deal of control over his body. He knows what's at stake if he hurts himself, and has probably grown out of his weird phase of trying to be the "cool uncle" to this twelve-year-old heathen.

"Bet you can't make it all the way across."

Oh. Oh no.

"Kid, I'm a firefighter-"

"And you never shut up about it." Remus knows she's teasing, just trying to bait Sirius into doing someting dumb.

"Because when you need me to come drag your scrawny butt out of a burning building because you left your straightener on-"

"That was ONE time!"

"-you'll be glad you know the world's best firefighter." From across the playground, Remus sees Sirius look at him and quickly away. "Tied with Remus." Ridiculous man.

Tonks snorts. "Good. So do it."

"I will!"

'It' appears to be a balance and ropes course that ends in a very long set of monkeybars. On paper, this shouldn't pose a problem to Sirius. He's right—their job gives them quite a lot of upper body strength, but... Sirius makes mistakes when his hubris takes the helm.

Sirius makes it all the way to the monkeybars and Remus has just decided that perhaps this won't end poorly at all until-

"Fuc- I mean, fudge! Fudge, fudge, fudge!"

Remus runs over before he can stop himself. He doesn't want to look. If he doesn't look, it'll all just be a weird fever dream and he'll wake up at home with a fully intact and unharmed Sirius in his bed and they'll eat breakfast and...

"Ow..."

"And you call me clumsy."

"Not now, Nymphadora!"

Tonks rolls her eyes but casts a guilty look Remus's way. Sirius is sprawled on the ground, woodchips and dirt in his hair, and his right ankle is rapidly swelling. Remus can see her two sides at war: the contrary preteen versus part of her that is actually quite a good human, who feels remorse and everything (a rare trait for preteens, in Remus's experience).

Remus goes into paramedic mode to the pathetic whimpers of his pathetic husband. Some gentle manipulation of the joint and careful prodding gives him some hope that it's not broken, but Sirius has always been a bit of a baby when it comes to pain. That, plus his very fine-boned, aristocratic ankles makes him an extremely difficult patient. "Tonks, I need to take him to the ER. Come with us and I'll have your mother pick you up from there."

"Nah, I'll just take an Uber!" she announces and, within ten seconds, has her phone out and a ride confirmed. Impressive. "Mom knows Sirius gets a little stupid around me, made sure I had money on my card."

Sirius groans and flops dramatically down flat against the ground. Enough life in him to have a fit of melodrama, which is promising. "I am actively dying and you're taking cheap shots?"

"Have to make them while we can; there's no use when you're dead," Remus says drily.

"Et tu, Moony? Et tu?!"

Remus, though the option to leave Sirius on the ground is increasingly tempting, gets him to sitting upright by the time Tonks's ride shows up. Remus warns her to be safe, tells her to text him immediately when she gets home, and makes sure the driver can see the swell of his biceps and the "FIRE RESCUE" and seal on his shirt. It's usually enough to keep weirdos at bay. People might fuck with police officers (jumped-up twats that they are), but no one fucks with a firefighter.

"Alright, you. Can you stand?"

"No." The bastard doesn't even try. "You'll have to carry me."

"I feel like this would be more productive if you just limped along to the truck."

"It would not."

"Sirius."

"Remus."

"Sirius."

"Remus, I'm injured! I'm dying! You can't make a dying man do things that would bring him closer to death!"

Remus looks at the silicon band on his ring finger and then up at the sky. "I love him, I love him, I love him," he mutters under his breath.

"You love me."

"Somehow." Remus rolls his eyes, crouches down, and lifts Sirius into his arms with a firm heave. Sirius weighs more than he does, and he's a heavy burden in the curl of Remus's arms, but the look on his face and the slight parting of his lips gives Remus the extra strength he needs. It's crazy. Seven years together, and they still get hot for feats of strength.

Sirius doesn't give the ER nurses any lip. Even with all of his charm and long eyelashes and beautiful face, they don't take shit or heckling from him. After some x-rays and a great deal of teasing from the staff who joke he hurts himself off-duty more than he does on, Sirius's ankle is determined to be sprained, and he's required to take four weeks off and be re-evaluated before he can return to work.

"You're telling Lily," Remus says bluntly as he helps Sirius out of the truck.

Sirius pouts and makes Remus carry him again—crutches are apparently 'torture'—into the house. "Can I tell her after I make it up to you?"

Remus almost drops him on the couch, but recovers quickly enough to set him down gently. "...What did you have in mind?" He clears his throat. "It'll have to be good. I've carried your thick ass all afternoon."

Sirius props himself on one elbow and drags Remus close by his beltloops. "But you love my thick ass," he practically purrs against Remus's fly, and he's not wrong. He really, really does. Sirius mouths the growing bulge in his jeans and flicks his silver eyes up at Remus. "Don't worry. It'll be good."

[slasherholic]

synopsis: hi this is a very indulgent self-care piece born out my desire to be held,, by evil handsome collector man,, so take some very mean “fluff” based on this gorgeous commission cause it lives rent free in my brain

written in 3rd person pov, but the protag’s name and features are left vague, so anyone who identifies with the descriptions in the warnings below can read this as a self insert :0

contains: female reader, language which describes the reader’s body as “small” and “petite”, depictions of murder and violence, kidnapping, nonconsensual touching / groping / cuddling, drugging, (my kink is getting a good fucking nights sleep srry,) restraints, mild fearplay, depictions of torture.

Asa Emory / The Collector x Small! Female Reader

--

When panic and confusion began to mount in the concert hall and the crowd fled for the exit, she scrambled forward on the dirty ground and huddled beneath the seat in front of her, for fear of being trampled.

Thirty seconds passed. Outside, in the main building, there was more screaming. She clutched her leg in a grip that turned her shins numb where her fingers dug in.

When the screams stopped, she clambered very hesitantly out.

The theater and all its levels were empty. On the stage lay the bodies of the cast, motionless islands in vast pools of spreading blood.

She should go now. Not out the front. There must be a side door, a fire exit, something.

When it happened it took the concert hall five whole seconds to rise into a panic. Nobody seemed to believe what they were seeing, and in the end, the shrieks coming from behind the curtains were what stoked the audience into a frenzy.

The curtains; likely her best chance.

She couldn’t stop herself from looking again as she clambered up on the stage, hugging the wall, gazing with huge eyes at the dead bodies speared into the wooden floor by volleys of long pikes with more prongs than she could count at a glance. It had been impeccable timing, right at the climax of the leading lady’s highest soprano note. 

She looked up. Past the bright stage lights, high in the rafters above, she saw two heavy-looking mechanisms that among the steel fixtures did not at first glance look out of place. She made her way very cautiously behind the dense red curtains.

There were more bodies backstage but what had killed them was not immediately apparent and she didn’t want to linger and find out. There was an open door on the opposite end of the room and as she crossed the dusty paneled floor her head was on a swivel, listening, for anything. The building had fallen to suffocating silence.

Through the door, there was a stairwell, and another body. A man in a ripped white button up and a stained blue tie lay face-down on the first and second steps. There was a terrible smell. She stepped over him very slowly, and then slipped on his blood.

She fell forward into razor wire. It caught on her lavender dress and cut her arms and legs. Somehow she held her shriek. The gleaming wires stretched like a web across the narrow corridor from wall to wall, and she went carefully, dipping in and out between the maze, finding she could just squeeze through it. Blood was streaming down her ankles and getting on the soles of her heels by the time she reached the top.

She almost got out. She would have made it, if only the anticipation of freedom hadn’t made her so hasty.

He discovered her snared in the labyrinth of dangling fish hooks fifteen feet from the rear fire exit, sobbing in pain, a delicate, pretty little creature, pulling uselessly at the lines as he got close to gather her up.

She didn’t put up much of a fight. She was a small woman, in shock, easy to handle.

Into the trunk she went.

--

The hooks would need to come out surgically. He had designed them to snag skin and embed deep into muscle and stay.

She tried to fight him for the first few minutes after he dragged her out by her nape and bent her face-down over the operating table, pinning her by her wrists while he unbuttoned the back of her dress, which he decided he quite liked; but when she lay naked on the table with her slender arms secured, as if realizing the futility of it all, she stopped struggling, and just cried while he tightened the straps over her legs. He stuck a thick piece of leather in her mouth so her teeth wouldn’t break and didn’t bother to sedate her. Waste of his resources for a procedure this short. Her huge eyes streamed endless tears as he worked on her and her face twisted beautifully at every incision. He set his scalpel down to wipe the crimson stains off her skin, and in his tray sat six bloody hooks, each as long as her index finger. 

She was smart enough to mind her volume after the excruciating part was over, sniffling and crying softly while he bandaged her limbs. She had expected never to see her airy lavender dress again, but when he finally unstrapped her, and flipped her on her stomach, he clothed her in it again. She stayed limp as he did the buttons back up her spine for fear of angering him. Her wrists and ankles went snuggly into pairs of sturdy leather cuffs.

He scooped her up, gripping her trembling body tightly, in case she decided to squirm. She didn’t.

Beyond the operating room there was a corridor, its walls and ceiling painted a maroon that had faded nearly to brown. She figured it was some sort of inn or hotel. A few of the doors lining the hall sat open a crack and one near the end sat wide-open. She looked inside it as he carried her past, and immediately wished she hadn’t.

The room he brought her to had a door that was open just a little. There, in the middle of the floor, fit with heavy brass bindings and three dangling padlocks, open as if expecting company, sat a sturdy red trunk.

She knew that she was going right down in it. She tried to cry again, but her energy was good and spent. 

He crouched on one knee in front of the trunk. Its walls didn’t quite touch her body as he lowered her inside, but when he closed the lid, the darkness was overwhelming. The padlocks clicked, one by one. The door swung shut, and she heard more locks turn—one, two, three, four. She wasn’t going anywhere.

For a whole day, he didn’t touch her. Not to feed her, not to give her water. She sat waiting for it to be her turn, trying very hard to turn her brain off and forget what she had seen through that door in the hallway. If she fell asleep, she felt there was a chance her body might shut down before he took her life in a manner that would have her screaming bloody murder on her way out.

Before she managed sleep, the locks on the door turned, and he was back.

His footsteps were measured as he entered, unhurried. The keys on his ring jangled as the heavy padlocks on her trunk clicked. The lid opened.

The man in all black squatted down. He stared at her for some time without moving. She regarded him with wide, wary, tear-filled eyes.

His thick arms darted into the trunk to catch her around the waist before she could struggle. She shrieked and flinched as he gathered up her legs, lifting her effortlessly out.

He sat her atop the lid of the trunk. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, on his boots.

His gloved hands had a way of lingering on her body when he touched her and as he let go of her waist he stroked her smooth thigh delicately, a bit past where her stained dress was riding up. She trembled and shook horribly, vision spotting over with erratic breathless dots.

The keys on his belt jangled again as he leaned for something on the ground, then lifted her chin to face him. She offered him no resistance.

To her dried lips, he pressed a metal cup; his black eyes considered her from behind his frightening mask, watching her expectantly.

She wasn’t certain the liquid in the cup was water but at the first sign of hesitation he squeezed her cheeks impatiently. He could force her to drink it very easily and she’d seen enough of him by now to know he wouldn’t make it very pleasant.

Down it went. It didn’t burn her throat, didn't make her cough up blood. It was only a drink of water.

The man in all black set the empty cup back on the floor, wiped at the thin spill dribbling down her chin, and gave her cheek a quick caress.

He forced her to sit with him, stiflingly close, one thick arm wrapped firmly around her middle to secure her. She would rather go back in the trunk than be held to his body like this.

He went for something on his belt. When his hand came back, her eyes grew huge. 

No. What’s in that? No, he can’t put that in her; but he’s far stronger than her, dangerously so, and if she tries to fight him he might break something or cut something off or just plain open her up again and let her bleed until she behaves.

Grabbing her jaw, his mouth came to settle gingerly against the side of her head, where she could feel his breaths fluttering on her hair.

“Hold very still.”

She didn’t think he was going to speak to her. His voice was nothing but a whisper, far softer than she would have imagined, which was somehow worse than shouting, because now she suspected he was making a very deliberate effort to frighten her to death. 

She did as he said. His fingers tightened around her cheeks as he aligned the needle between her neck and shoulder. Her face contorted at the pinch.

The empty syringe fell from his hand, clinking against the bottom of trunk, rolling away on the floor. He released her face, and she blinked away new tears as he led her cuffed wrists down by their thin tether to rest in her lap. He traced her collarbone out towards her arm and gripped the curve of her shoulder firmly over her sleeve.

The world was growing softer around the edges. The drug must have been some sort of sedative.

He started to touch her chest. She drew breath sharply as his large hand slipped beneath the ruffled hem of her dress, trying not to whimper and somehow disturb him as he cupped one goosebump-freckled breast, kneading her gently. He ran his thumb very deliberately over the bud of her nipple, which is all it took to stiffen it up. His hand was very warm. She wanted to sob at the violation, but her wet eyes were lingering shut between blinks, and every time they closed, they were harder to open.

He wasn’t being cruel about it. The sensation was pleasant through and through, and her groggy mind was easily tricked. Without realizing, she slumped a little into his chest. His arm relaxed a bit around her stomach and it’s weight felt good and right, warm. His sweater was very soft on her skin. He didn’t smell unpleasant.

Then she realized her actions, jolting upright, appalled by herself. He gave a light exhale into her hair as if he had found the whole thing very amusing, and opted to play along for a time—but now that the moment was over, his arm flexed tight around her petite waist, becoming a restraint again.

He turned his attention to her other breast and examined her there too, which, though certainly unwanted, felt almost clinical rather than sexual. Maybe it was the gloves. Perhaps this was his process. Perhaps she would be carefully studied all over, classified and catalogued, before he took her apart.

Her brain grew too fuzzy after that. Her thoughts weren’t making much sense. She didn’t quite know where she was anymore, only that there had been a lot of hurt not long ago, but not now. All she knew now was that she was being touched very gently, and it was nice.

A short time later, her little body crumpled into his torso, and she didn’t try to get up again.

He pet the top of her head as she went under and sat considering her unconscious face.

The piece he had in mind was delicate, elegant. He couldn’t have her jerking and struggling in it. He could go and stick her in the freezer, and she would be ready by the morning, but eyes never preserved well, and he didn’t much want to dull hers. He was already deciding on colors that would compliment them well.

Sedation was a possibility. A quarter dose of Novapryl between feedings would be sufficient to keep her suspended in a similar groggy, tranquil state. 

She shifted her cheek where she lay on his chest. He touched her face tenderly, stroking the cool skin with the flat of his hand, and in her stupor, she seemed to lean into his caress, which he found charming. Needy thing.

Sedation, then.

[sumsebien]

by design pt. 3// Prince Friedrich

series masterlist

summary: friedrich and y/n’s arrival in prussia! ft. frederica ;))

word count: 4.7k

warnings: none

a/n: apologies for the long wait darlings. here she is though. and she is a long one. also a side note for those who love symbolism as much as i do 💐 ;) also, my banabaer @milkbaer this one is for u baby. thank you for all of your help!!!

a german lesson: Gänschen means goose🦆 (that’s a duck but we can pretend) and schloss means palace/chateau/mansion

The massive railway station stood proudly as the gateway to Potsdam, located right where the forest met the city. Three archways made of worn bricks welcomed old friends and strangers alike. There was something in the slightly tinted mossy green that offered you an odd sense of home. Like you had been here before.

Friedrich stood next to you near the exit. You had had breakfast together, then got ready separately before meeting each other again here.

“I had a lot of memories with this train station,” Friedrich said as the train finally passed the great archway.

You didn’t realize that you had been holding your breath the entire time, waiting for the wheels to come to full stop. You had been storing information from Lea and Ilse about Friedrich’s mother all morning. Anything that might help you strike up a decent conversation with her from her favorite flowers (gardenias) to her pets (a schnauzer named Fifi). Since then, you had been a little preoccupied by your own imaginations of her as a mother.

From the way Friedrich talked about her, your first guess was that they were extremely like-minded. Aside from that, there was the fact that she was a Queen to consider. She obviously must be extremely elegant and poised. Even her dog sounded posh-Fifi the Schnauzer...

You were still listening to Friedrich though, just not closely. “Really?” you asked, your eyes following the platform numbers as they passed by.

He nodded proudly. “I ran here from the Palace and caught the train to Berlin for a boxing match.”

You laughed, now entirely engaged in imagining little Friedrich fleeing from his guards. “And how old were you?”

“Thirteen. I skipped a dancing lesson.”

“Shame. You could have become a ballerina and outdone my stunts at your Christmas party.”

“Who’s to say that I did not? There are still many shocking things that you don’t know.” His plan to distract you from your own nerves had worked wonderfully well. You two continued to discuss his boxing match up until you were escorted out of the station.

There, you were greeted by a great spectacle of carriages and a horse parade. Everywhere you looked there were men in uniforms. They were on horses, in open top carriages, on the streets, all waiting for you and Friedrich.

Back in London, your family frequently had two to three carriages to accompany you to social functions. It was already considered excessive for the ton. You would have laughed at the idea of this. Or to be honest, wouldn’t have even been able to imagine having an entire parade to accompany you a couple of blocks down the street.

And of course, you could not forget the icing on the cake-the largest carriage you had ever seen. The one you saw in France could not compare and certainly not the one in England. This one was completely enveloped in gold from top to toe-or rather from roof to wheels. On the top of the roof, there were golden cherubs holding up an olive branch and flowers.

It was a harsh reminder that Friedrich, someone who you had grown to identify as your friend over the last several hours, was also the firstborn son of the King, heir apparent to the throne. And you were his wife. Whatever agreement you had made with each other in private was not valid in the public eye. Here, you were a Princess. The Princess.

As Friedrich watched you marvel in the magnificence of the royal parade, he turned to Heinrich with a last minute decision. Well last minute for his father and valet but not for him. Friedrich had wanted to visit his mother for ages.

“I’m heading to my mother’s. We’ll catch up with the staff afterwards and meet you at the Berlin Palace.”

All of this was not on the schedule his father had drawn out and Friedrich was well-aware. He had even cancelled the state train that Friedrich specifically ordered to Potsdam just to make sure he would not take you here first. But Friedrich was not one to lose.

At the same time, however, he knew that his valet was absolutely terrified of his father, as did most people. Soon enough, when his father found out that his son was not on the train to Berlin and was nowhere near the Royal Palace, he would definitely not be happy.

“But your Highness, we really must get going now or we won’t reach Berlin by noon.”

“If he asks, just blame it on me. I’ll be in and out in one hour.”

Heinrich didn’t say anything after that, just nodded. For that, Friedrich was thankful, he did not want to ruin this magical moment for you. It was not going to be this magical for long.

As Heinrich left with your staff, Friedrich turned back to you. “Y/N?”

“I-Is this for us?”

The look on your face made him laugh. Your jaws were grazing the floors, your eyes slowly sweeping across the scene then glanced at him and back to the carriages again.

“I believe it is,” he smiled, offering you his arm.

…

The entire ride back to the Palace was essentially just for you to fathom the welcome wagon.

You could barely string a sentence together, nodding along as Friedrich picked out places that he mentioned in his stories last night, especially enthusiastic about the candy shop he was never allowed to go in.

Potsdam was charming. You could certainly imagine a very fulfilling and peaceful existence here where it wasn't hectic like London but not entirely placid like the countryside.

Just when you thought you could not be more impressed, you arrived at Sanssouci Park.

When Ilse briefly mentioned it, you had expected a park. Like Hyde Park or Regent’s Park or the little garden behind your house that your parents insisted was a park. Whatever you had imagined, however, could not hold a candle to what it was in reality.

“Welcome to Sanssouci Park,” Friedrich said casually, casting a brief look out the windows while your eyes were completely glued to the towering gates opening up for your parade to pass through.

The name was not meant to refer to a park. It was definitely not a park. It was a bloody forest. As you entered the road lined with dense trees, the temperature dropped slightly with the shade, effectively cooling you both from the outside in.

“This is what you call a park? Whatever do you two think of Hyde Park then? A child’s sandbox?”

Before he could answer, your attention was quickly captured by a glimpse of something magnificent as the carriage passed a gap between the tree trunks. You pointed towards the dash of yellow you’d seen. “Is that where your mother lives?”

Friedrich followed your gaze and promptly nodded. “That’s Sanssouci Schloss. Here is the back of it.” Just on cue, the carriage rounded the corner and headed towards the back of the Palace.

Your jaws were officially off now as your eyes feasted on the very picture of splendor.

From personal observations, people usually spent a great deal of time and fortune on making the fronts of their homes as extravagant as possible. It was all in the face, as they said. But not here. Here, even the rear side was grand.

There was a huge water fountain in the middle of the yard, the blue sky printed on the surface. Naturally, your eyes followed straight ahead, past the window behind Friedrich’s head towards the most elaborate set of marble stairs you’d ever seen. On either side were tall walls of hedges and rose bushes that covered the hillside.

“Can we walk up those steps?”

Friedrich turned to look at the steps and then back at you again.

It was not a steep hill. More of a gentle slope but exactly because of that, the steps were long and the landings were wide. Anyone in breeches would find it challenging enough as it was. But you were in a gown, in the sweltering July heat and you were volunteering to walk. “You can. People usually go straight to the entrance though. Are you certain you’d want to walk? It is a long way.”

You nodded, brushing off his concerns. All you cared about was the sight.

Per your request, the carriage stopped right before the grand stairs to Sanssouci Palace. You and Friedrich got out of the carriage.

From where you stood, you had to crane your neck up slightly to be able to see the Palace up the top. The strip of yellow you’d seen from afar turned out to be much more intricate than you’d expected. Beautiful white windows lined the yellow walls, right in the center was an oval shaped room with a cyan dome on top, perfectly aligned with the stairs. Even though it only had one story, its width certainly made up for its height, stretching across the hill.

As you walked ahead, Friedrich decided to stall a little bit. Memories of endless summer days spent on these lawns came flooding back.

He had missed this.

The last time he was here was the summer before he left for England. It was actually here that his aunt Charlotte came to visit with an invitation to Cambridge-the day that changed his life.

And now he was here with you. Someone he had dreaded to marry a mere few days before. Now a dear friend to him.

Straight in front of him, you were marching up the steps with admirable determination, your hands holding onto your skirt, lifting it off the ground. With sun on your skin and wind in your hair, you laughed and told him to hurry up. For that split second, he wished he was not just your friend. Though he discarded that thought as quickly as it came, it stayed stuck in the back of his mind as he matched your pace.

“These are a lot of steps,” you remarked after the first flight of stairs was behind you. There were at least five more ahead. The excessively wide spaces between each step did not help with the general morale either.

“I did warn you,” he chuckled. “It was too exhausting a trip that Marie Antoinette rode a horse up these steps after her stroll in the garden.”

You paused for a moment.

Friedrich thought you were imagining the French queen trotting up the steps with her stallion. But as it turned out, he was wrong.

“Did he invite her over during one of the military clashes between Prussia and France?”

To say that Friedrich did not expect that was an understatement. You had told him you read but he never asked for the specifics on what exactly you were interested in. At that moment, he simply thought you’d be interested in a made-up tale to forget about the stairs. He did not think for a moment you’d be interested in foreign conflicts enough to know the feud between Prussia and France. He knew he certainly wasn’t as a student.

“You can’t fool me. I know,” you said, laughing at the shock on his face.

Pleasantly impressed, he remarked, “Full of surprises I see.”

“You’ll see that in this friendship,” you motioned between yourselves, “you’re not the only one who can shock.”

He gave you a nod, lowering his eyes and watched his steps before he murmured to himself. “Friendship, yes.” He reminded himself of how grateful he was to be your friend. And that maybe pining over you for the rest of his life was better than having you hate him.

If there was one thing for certain, it was that you two would not repeat his parents’ mistakes.

“Darling!”

The voice caused Friedrich’s eyes to snap upwards, slightly alarmed as they weren’t expected on this side of the Palace. Everyone was supposed to be at the front.

The first thing he saw was that you had stopped as well, only standing two steps above him. And then, on the top flight, he saw his mother, waving at him. She wasn’t supposed to greet them outside. At the same time though, he wouldn’t expect her to wait that long for anything anyways.

He waved back with a laugh. She hadn’t changed one bit since the last time he saw her nearly a year ago. A straw sunhat on top of her head, a basket of flower and gardening tools in her hand.

“I-is that-“

Friedrich nodded. “Yes, that’s her. That’s my Mama.”

The nervous jitters came back to you. You knew how much his mother meant to him. She was the true hero of his childhood and you were just excited to meet her. However, you also knew that in no way was this arrangement made by her. And no matter how friendly you were with Friedrich, as his mother, she would not easily trust you.

You quickly masked your nervousness with a gentle smile. It was the safest route after all. Better look like a smiley fool than a grumpy idiot. You thought.

The Queen began to walk down the steps briskly, meeting you halfway up the last flight of stairs. Immediately, she threw her arms around Friedrich, pulling him into a bear hug. “There you are, you Gänschen! You’ve kept your mother waiting long enough!” She said, messing up his hair and only letting go of him once he was shaking with laughter.

When he and your maids said she was very carefree in private, you did not expect her to be this carefree. A lady was not supposed to be out in the sun like this, no less a queen. She was also much more beautiful than you could ever imagine, with her honey blonde curls tumbling down her back in waves and her big blue eyes which were now on you.

“Apologies, Mama,” he stepped back, allowing you to take a step forward. “This is Y/N, my wife. And Y/N, this is my Mama.”

“It is such an honor to meet you, your Majesty,” you said, bending your knees into a curtsy, praying you wouldn’t stumble backwards and ruin the first impression.

You had an overwhelming want for her to like you. And you felt like this first meeting was of paramount importance in deciding that. If it did not go well, she would never see you as anything more than a girl her son was forced to marry. And that was terrifying even in the case where Friedrich remained a good friend.

You were not wrong. Frederica did not expect much from a match made by Louis, a man who clearly did not know his own son or even cared to try. Assuming he did know his son, it would not even be of any matter at all. The only thing he had ever cared about was grooming an heir. This arrangement, no doubt, served that.

But Frederica could not ignore the large smile on her son’s face as he ascended the steps with this young lady.

That? That was not by design.

Frederica shook her head and offered you her hand to help you stand up straight. “I prefer Frederica. At least when we are not in court.”

She gave you a cheeky wink and plucked a gardenia from her basket, tucking it by your ear. “Come on now! I am sure it has been a long trip for the both of you. Let us have some tea before you go.”

...

Frederica led the both of you into the Palace through the doors into the oval room. Inside it was just as spectacular as its exterior. Tall columns held up the painted dome where a chandelier was hung. The three arched windows looking out to the gardens were pushed open by three footmen, allowing sunlight and fresh air to gush into the space, lightening up the entire room.

“Please have a seat, dears,” Frederica said, gesturing to the rounded table in the middle of the room.

You were still too in awe to be able to settle down calmly in your seat but obeyed her anyways. Beside you, Friedrich was glancing around the room, like he was in search of something.

“Is Fifi not here?” he asked as a butler approached the table with a cake stand.

Just on cue, Fifi-his mother’s Schnauzer, shot through the doors. You nearly gasped out of sheer excitement when you saw the ball of salt and pepper fur fly into the room like an arrow. You had always shared a fondness for dogs. Yet you never had one. The only dogs you had were your father’s hunting hounds and he made sure you remained far away from them.

“Speak of the devil...” Friedrich turned to you, “this is Fifi, hated by most but very loved by my mother. Mostly because she smells like fish.”

He kept his eyes on the dog as she strolled around, heading in your direction and getting alarmingly close. “Fifi!” he said, shooing her off. The dog didn’t care, just kept on going forward.

“Oh, it’s quite alright! I love dogs,” you said, fighting the urge to pet Fifi who was quietly sniffing at the hem of your skirt.

Frederica was absolutely surprised when she saw her Schnauzer so quiet. Her dog was not friendly with strangers. By this time there should have been an accident.

The delayed accident happened right after that. Fifi bit down on your dress, tugging at it playfully.

More surprising, however, you didn’t seem scared of the feisty little old thing either. You just laughed.

“Fifi! Leave the poor girl alone!” Frederica said, tapping her shoes against the floor.

Friedrich quickly leaned forward and picked her up. Being lifted off the ground, she released your skirt and focused on wiggling out of Friedrich’s grasps instead. When she eventually succeeded, Fifi headed back to you, circling your feet, her tail wagging.

Friedrich clicked his tongue, about to bend over again to shoo Fifi off. Not that she would care. But the dog plopped down between your chair and his mother’s, out of Friedrich’s reach.

She looked up at you with big eyes, begging for a pet, which you were happy to provide. You reached down and scratched her ears. It was all rather brave, if he must admit.

“I know it is hard to believe but she seems fond of you,” Frederica mused, seeing Fifi transform into a whole other dog under your touch. She was not usually this sweet.

Friedrich scoffed. “The devil almost ripped her skirt off,” he gestured to the hem of your dress, and glared at Fifi.

“It’s fine, honestly. I think it was a compliment if anything,” you said with a smile.

He sighed. “Don’t defend the perpetrator! She has a terrible temperament. And you know it,” he turned to his mother.

“Fifi does. as much as I love her,” Frederica nodded. Fifi’s ears perked up at the mention of her name, blinking at her owner. “But you seem like a very experienced animal whisperer.”

“No, actually. I never had one.”

“Well, that’s a shame. You’re great with Fifi. And if you can handle her, you can handle any dog.”

“Any dog is better than Fifi,” Friedrich said under his breath. Nevertheless, he was glad to see the two of you bond. Even if it was over Fifi the Ferocious.

On the bright side, at least she wasn’t coming back with them to Berlin. It was the only thing Friedrich and his father had ever had in common-a dislike for the Schnauzer.

...

Heinrich was being escorted into the Palace towards the audience room. A place he would much prefer not to go to on his own. He had arrived for over an hour and still you two were nowhere to be found and it was only for so long he could hide the train of carriages. Eventually, one of the butlers alerted the King of his presence and he was immediately requested inside.

Heinrich had suspected that you would arrive slightly late. He just didn’t think it could be this late. He had no idea what he was supposed to say. One misstep and off with his head.

When the doors to the room were swung open, the King was throwing a fit. His deafening yell rang across the room and bounced against the tall walls. It certainly did not help with the nerves.

“WHERE IS MY HORSE?” he demanded, rising up from the throne. From where he stood, he towered over the poor footman. “I am late for hunting!”

“Your Majesty, you cancelled today’s hunt.”

“And why on earth would I do that?”

Heinrich kept quiet, remaining invisible as he approached the throne behind the butler. He was not about to be caught in the middle of a crossfire during one of the King’s fits.

The footman blinked. Heinrich could see the man debating whether or not to answer, lest it was a rhetorical question.

“B-because the Prince is back from England, sir?”

“Oh,” the King said. His voice quieter than before and sat back down again. The crease between his Majesty’s eyebrows disappeared, his expressions softening slightly. Then he turned to the footman with a quizzical look. “And where is the Prince?”

The footman turned around and met Heinrich’s eyes. And then the King followed his gaze. So much for not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.

“I-“ Heinrich began, his mind drawing a blank.

If he were to tell the truth, Friedrich and you would no doubt be in trouble. However, if he didn’t tell the truth, he’d be in trouble and so would you two. And if he just said he didn’t know, he’d be on the first ship to an island far far away.

“Well?” The King barked.

“I’ll go get them, your Majesty!”

“Don’t just stand there. Hurry along then! Before I chop all of your heads off.”

Heinrich had never walked so fast out of a room his entire life. His heart was pounding as it began to dawn on him that he had just lied to the King. Well, it was not exactly a lie. He was going to get them. They just weren’t here yet. Unfortunately, none of that mattered. There was no reasoning with such a powerful man. All he could do was hope that he would still be alive to see another day.

Just when all of his luck appeared to have run out, he heard the distinct sound of hooves against cobble and rushed outside.

Friedrich helped you out of the carriage, still engaged in the never-ending tales of Fifi the Ferocious. You were laughing when you caught sight of the magnificent Royal Palace-Berliner Schloss. It was much boxier than Sanssouci Schloss with towering walls that casted a great shadow over the front lawn.

Household staff lined the steps on either side, straightening up as Heinrich dashed past them. Some had their heads turned, the younger ones especially, their curious eyes on you, trying to catch a glimpse of the new Princess. The more seasoned staff near the top stayed perfectly still, resisting the urge to look anywhere other than straight ahead.

“Your Highnesses!” He said, bowing so quickly you were worried his head might snap off. “Your presences are requested. Immediately!”

...

Through the doors you could faintly hear your titles being announced. Your palms were clammy so you hid it behind you, focusing on what you might say in a couple of moments.

Friedrich was not nervous, of course.

He was the one who planned the detour in the first place. And while you had enjoyed the time with Frederica very much, perhaps a little too much, it had delayed your schedule by well over a couple of hours. It meant that you made the King of Prussia, your father-in-law wait.

The only person more nervous than you was probably Heinrich. Every time you caught a glimpse of his face, he seemed more haggard than the last. You were not certain whether he was really sick or just worried.

"My father will say things. Things that are aimed to test you. Do not mind any of it," Friedrich said quietly.

"Something tells me I should take that as a suggestion. One look at Heinrich and I know what I am in for."

Friedrich sneaked a glance at his valet and gave you a small smile. "Heinrich has always been that way. Worries a little too much."

"Maybe that is for good reason-"

The trumpets sounded, prompting you to straighten up, smooth your dress and put on a smile. In the corner of your eyes, you could see Friedrich cracking up. Had it not been for the fact that you were being presented right then, you would have given him a slipper to the chest. He was still smiling up until you had to walk through the doors.

Then, his demeanor shifted completely. You did not dare to make eye contact with the King. All you saw was brief glimpses of a man, wearing a red cloak on the throne. But Friedrich, he was looking straight down the room, challenging his father.

From the stories he had told you, you knew that Friedrich had a rough relationship with his father. Once he got a chance to break away, he vowed he would allow his father to have full control of his life again. And from the suffocating tension in the air, you knew his father would not make it easy.

“The Prince and Princess of Prussia, your Majesty,” a footman announced.

"Your Majesty," you said, giving the King a curtsy.

"Welcome, welcome. I hope the journey was not too rough for you.”

You smiled and nodded. Not a bad start.

However, it was a completely different story when you saw Friedrich’s face. He raised his eyebrows, clearly unconvinced by his father’s concern. "You do, father? Wasn’t it on your orders that the state train never arrived?”

“Now, now, Friedrich. That was none of my doing.” The King turned to you with a small smile. “I must say, you are much prettier than I expected, my lady.”

He had made such an effort to emphasize the last two words that even if you weren’t listening, you still would have caught them. The King was smirking on his throne, his icy eyes sending chills down your back.

“I believe it’s your Highness, father.”

This row was your fault. You could tell.

“No, I don’t think it is. You didn’t get married.”

“We did.”

“That did not count.”

“How? Because you weren’t invited?”

“I see all of your manners have gone out the door since you stepped foot out of this country.”

Friedrich wanted to scoff. It was always going to be about England. If they were going to have this conversation, he was going to do it properly. But not in front of you.

He turned to Heinrich. “Take the Princess to see the chambers.”

You didn’t want to leave. You were responsible for this in one way or another. You should be here to take the blame. But Friedrich shook his head like he knew what you were about to say. “Come with Heinrich. I’ll meet you later.”

“No need for that. Lady Brandt, your chief lady-in-waiting, will take you for a tour. Bernadine?”

You remembered Lea and Ilse mentioning her as well. However, at that time, she didn’t have a name or a face for you to attach her to just yet. You just knew that she was going to be in charge of all of your affairs like Heinrich was doing for Friedrich. Now she had a name and a face.

At the mention of her name, she nodded and stepped forward from the line of staff on your right. She was dressed in a blood red dress, a strand of pearls wrapped around her long neck. She came towards you, giving you an impressive curtsy, tipping her head forward slowly yet keeping her hat perfectly still on her dark raven hair.

When she looked up, you were finally able to see her striking hollow eyes, tall cheekbones and an ever so slightly upturned corner of her lips. She looked awfully familiar. Like a much younger version of your mother actually. And she was just as terrifying.

“Come with me, your Highness.”

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[pandaponderart]

Underrated Anime Part 1:

Hello my fellow Weebs, I’m back for some more Anime blogging, this time to talk about so not so well known ones. Some that have got forgotten with time, some that new Anime fans have maybe never heard of and the ones that I feel deserve more love and recognition. I’ve been watching Anime for about 13 years so I’ve seen a lot so this will be in at least 3 parts, so hopefully you like this and look forward to more. Til then enjoy, hope you can find some new anime you’ve never heard of thanks for reading and look forward to part 2!.

1. Azumanga Daioh(2002)

Starting off with an older Anime, and one of the best and earlier comedy, slice of life Anime that paved the way for a lot of other Anime in the same genre like Nichijou and Daily Lives of High School Boys. Off the wall and highly unrealistic, this comedy is completely over the top in the best way possible. it’s old but gold and should be crowned as one of the best comedy Anime to exist.

With the most lovable cast, you have Chiyo the 5th grader who is so crazy smart she gets placed in a high school class, then there’s Osaka, who’a real name is Ayumu Kasuga who’s named that because she‘s from Osaka. Osaka isn’t the smartest and neither is her other classmate Tomo Takino who will do anything to avoid studying. Then to balance out the cast is Koyomi Mizuhara aka Yomi, the smart one who keeps everyone in line and Kagura the sporty one. Then of course can’t forget to mention the teachers Yukari Sensei who is anything but the normal responsible teacher and to balance her out Minamo Sensei the responsible one. There’s no real plot with Azumanga Daioh but there’s not meant to be it’s just an over the top comedy slice of life, with moments that will make you laugh from your gut. It’s all about the characters and the ridiculous situations their put in and each one is a lovable idiot that really drives the show. Give this one a shot if you want a show that will put a big smile on your face the whole way through.

2. Eden of The East (2009)

Another older Anime, not everything on this list will be older Anime but there’s so many good ones like this!. Eden of The East is an action, mystery with elements of romance with one of the most unique stories I’ve seen in Anime. It’s a short watch being only eleven episodes with two movies following after which I recommend watching because they continue the story. I’m really surprised not more people know or talk about this show but it need to be talked about more!.

With one of the funniest and most bizarre starts to an Anime, our lead charcter Saki is on a trip to Washington D.C, when she gets in trouble for throwing a coin in the White House’s fountain she’s saved by a naked man who claims to be a terrorist. Not only is this mysterious man naked and claims to be a terrorist, he also has amnesia and is carrying a phone with 8.2 million dollars. Saki befriends this strange man and throughout the story they try to uncover more of his past, his involvment in an incident called careless monday and a dangerous death game with other players. They must also spend all of the money as instucted by the mysterious voice in the phone Juiz as well as try to save the world.

3. R.O.D The TV( 2003)

Ok I know I said this list wouldn’t only be older Anime but I guess the older Anime just has my heart and this one has a special place in mine. One of my all time favorites and one of the earliest Anime I saw and it still holds up to me til this day. It is hands down probably the most underrated show on this entire list and if you only watch one of these Anime please make it this one. The story is completely original, the characters are complex and endearing, there’s action, heartwarming moments, comedy and mystery, I wish there was more Anime like it, it deserves to be a classic.

It‘s a one of a kind show about the paper sisters Michelle, the oldest bubbly bookworm, Maggie the seemingly intimidating quiet giant. Then you have the youngest sister Anita who unlike her sisters hates books, she’s a bit rough around the edges but loves her sisters. Although they aren’t actually sisters they have a detective agency to help find lost books to help pay for rent while also doing odd jobs like being body guards. Their first assignment is to protect the author, Nenene Sumiragawa who is being threatened to be killed at her book signing. The paper sisters aren’t called that just because of their love of books, they can turn paper into weapons and whatever else they please, but each having their speciality. Nenene finds out they‘re paper sisters just like her friend who ‘s missing, Yomiko Readman and asks them for help finding her. They try to help Nenene find her friend, while solving other cases and saving the world with the power of paper.

4. Baccano(2007)

Probably the most well known but also I think one of the most under appreciated Anime, from Durarara’s creator, Baccano. I feel like most newer Anime fans won’t know this one and although it’s a beloved series by many, I still feel it’s underrated. Also another bias opinion shocker, it’s one of my absolute favorites but that’s why it’s here. It’s once again a shorter anime with only 13 episodes but it somehow manages to combine all of the storylines cohesively, it’s a wild ride full of mystery, murder, and magic that will keep you on board the entire time trying to piece everything together. Also warning it jumps around a lot so make sure to pay attention everything pieces together!.

Based in the 1930’s in the prohibition era you have several stories involving different characters going on but they‘re all connected to one thing the transcontinental train, the flying pussyfoot. Yes that’s actually the name of the train, why, still no idea but all these characters from different walks of life end up here somehow. Now to introduce some of these crazy characters, first off the goofy thieves in love Isaac and Miria, who aren’t the brightest but can steal just about anything. Lad Russo the sadistic hit man who loves to see people die, including fantasizing about killing his fiancé one day. Then you have the ones involved in gangs, all In different ones, but nonetheless involved in some sort of crime. First there’s Firo, the youngest of the Martello family and one of the immortals in the show, then there’s Jacuzzi Splot and his partner Nice, Jacuzzi is a big wimp and crybaby but will protect his loved ones with all he’s got and Nice is a bomb expert and his childhood food. Those are some of the main characters it’s such a large cast it’s hard to name and explain them all. This one is a must watch especially if you liked Durarara, jump on the hype train of this wild show.

5. Black Cat (2005)

Now quick disclaimer before I begin talking about this one, I haven’t watched this in years so it may not hold up as well as I’m remembering but when I watched it I really enjoyed it so that’s why it’s here. This was one of the earlier Anime I watched I’m pretty sure my friend showed me it but it caught my interest from the beginning. It’s not the most groundbreaking show to exist and I’ve heard that the manga is apparently better but that’s for almost every show. It’s got cool action, funny moments and a great cast of characters, plus not gonna lie I had a crush on train when I was younger. its just a fun show and definitely worth giving a watch!

Train Heartnett is an infamous cold blooded assassin who works for the organization Chronos, and because of his lack of empathy for killing he’s named Black Cat. But after a chance encounter with a bou hunter named Saya Minatsuki, they become friends and Train decided he wants to leave Chronos to pursue an honest living as a bounty Hunter. However chronos and particular his fellow member Creed Diskenth are not pleased with this and try to get Train to rejoin Chronos. Along the way Train teams up with fellow bounty hunter on the brink of broke Sven, the bio mech weapon and little girl Eve and master thief and seductress Rinslet Walker. Together they try to escape from Chronos and get enough money for their next .

6. Arakawa Under The Bridge(2010)

Where do I begin with this one first off, this is one of the weirdest Anime I’ve ever seen but just like Azumanga Daioh that’s what make it so good. Beautifully animated by Studio Shaft with some of the most colorful and visually appealing animation I’ve seen, it’s pure eye candy. it’s equally as strange as it is hilarious and it’s just a fun time that’s not meant to be taken seriously. So if you want a good laugh and something thats truly one of a kind in story and characters give this crazy show a shot.

The show begins with one of our main characters Kou Ichinomiya getting stuck by his underwear on a bridge by some kids, he falls into the river and is saved by a mysterious girl. Kou is the son of a wealthy businessman and his life motto is to not be indebted to anyone, so when he’s saved by this girl he asks what he can do. He finds out that her name is Nino and what she wants is to fall in love, so she asks Kou to be her boyfriend. At first Nino seems like a regular girl but she claims to be an alien from Venus and lives in a box under the bridge, not wanting to be in debt Kou agrees and begins living under the bridge with Nino. However Nino isn’t the only one who lives under the bridge there are many other strange characters like hoshi, the aspiring musician who wears a star on his head, and the captain who’s a human in a kappa suit. I highly suggest watching this strange sci-fi romantic comedy for something different and fun to watch.

7. 91 Days (2016)

The newest Anime on this list so far, see I told you it wouldn’t be only old ones!, this is also the darkest Anime on this list so far. This has been highly overlooked since it’s release in 2016, it reminds me of baccano and in parts like death note. If you like mafia movies or just a dark gritty story with some light hearted moments, it s short show but nothing is rushed and it’s solid from front to back and keeps you on the edge of your seat.

Just like Baccano, 91 Days takes place in the prohibition era in a town called Lawless where crime is rampant and illegal alcohol sales are thriving. In this town our protagonist Aviicio‘s family is killed by one of the mafia families, The Vanetti Family. He receives a mysterious anonymous letter telling him to return to lawless to infiltrate The Vanetti Family. He tries to befriend the families son Nero, to find an opportunity for revenge, the story keep you constantly guessing if they’ve truly become friends or if he’ll kill him. Please watch this wonderful mafia crime drama of friend vs foe.

8. Yamada Kun and The Seven Witches (2015)

This is one of the ones that I still really want to read the manga for because I just couldn’t get enough of it! i’m still hoping for a sequel one day! The premise of body swapping has been done many times in Anime and cinema as a whole but this one adds a unique enough of a twist to keep it fresh and interesting. I looked forward to watching this weekly each week meeting a learning about each new witch and learning what power they had.

Ryuu Yamada is a high school delinquent who wants a fresh start at a new school, despite the intention to start with a clean slate he soon falls into old habits of laziness and getting into fights. One day he trips on the stairs which leads to an accidental kiss with fellow student Urarara Shiraishi which causes them to switch bodies. Another student Toranosuke Miyamura learns that they can switch bodies and recruits them to his Supernatural Studies club. There they learn about the other seven witches that all have different powers

9. Arslan Senki (2015-2016)

The second to last of the list comes from the creator of my all time favorite Anime Fullmetal Alchemist, while it’s a very different series and not quite as good as FMA it’s still deserves a spot on this list and deserves your time. It’s hard not to compare it to FMA but it really is it’s own thing, and it actually came out before Fullmetal, it’s a historical drama about war and strategy and a character growing into his potential. Just as Hiromu Arakawa is known for there’s still some comedic moments and some great character development and a well done story, Plus if you like this there’s two seasons so there more to enjoy.

Ok I promise from this point forward I won‘t say anything more about Fullmetal Alchemist this is about Arslan Senki, here’s the story. In the year 320 the Kingdom of Pars is at war with the neighboring kingdom Lusitania. Pars is ruled by the ruthless king Andrangoras III who has a son who’s the complete opposite of him Arslan. Although he doesn’t know how to fight Arslan tries to prove his worth by joining the battle, but things take a turn for the worst when one of the kings officials betrays him. The once prosperous Kingdom of Pars is seized, and since Arslan is the kings son he must flee to avoid capture. So he sets off with his loyal bodyguard Daryun to find allies to help take back the kingdom. Knowing that Arslan is still alive he is still faced with pursuers from other kingdoms and the head of the Lusitania army, a mysterious man with a silver mask who knows a secret that could jeopardize Arslan‘s succession to the throne. Arslan is a gentle, kind person that doesn’t enjoy fighting, he must learn to fight and protect himself and gain the courage to lead an army to regain his home.

10. Shingeki No Bahamut: Genesis (Rage of Bahamut) (2014)

Leaving one of the best for last, not to be confused with the popular series with a similar name Shingeki no Kyojin(Attack on Titan) this show is just as good. One of the first shows from one of my favorite Anime studios, Studio Mappa. I had low expectations when I heard this was a card game adaptation from a new anime studio but I decided to check it out despite that and it was the best decision. This has all the elements of a great anime, the beautiful animation, the unique characters and the compelling story and all the cool action scenes are just a plus. There is a second season too but I’ll leave that for another time, ok time to stop gushing about this wonderful show, time for the story!.

Years and years ago the ancient powerful dragon Bahamut reeked havoc on Mistarcia, a land where gods and demons lived harmoniously with humans. The gods and demons manage to seal away Bahamut with the god key and agree to split it to keep him sealed. Now that the the peace has been restored we meet the main characters and one of my favorites the orange Afro haired bounty hunters Favaro Leone. Favaro is constantly on the run from his adversary and fellow bounty hunter Kaiser Lidfard who‘s main purpose in life is to get revenge on him. One day both of their lives are thrown into chaos when they meet the mysterious girl Amira who holds half of the god key sealing Bahamut and wants help reaching the land of Helheim. I also can’t forget to mention my other favorite character and the fourth member of this unlikely crew Rita the zombie necromancer little girl she is just the definition of cool. Then there’s the characters that want to steal the god key the demon Azazel and the knight Jean D’Arc who are constantly in the characters way but you’ll find out more about them in the show. These unlikely heroes must face the threat of the battle of gods and demons, the pursuers of the god key and incoming threat of Bahamut awakening.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Broken Down (Pt.1)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: When your car breaks down on the side of the highway, you’re picked up by a kind couple who apparently have a thing for picking up hitchhikers, judging by the boy in the back seat. What started as a ride turns into a horror story. 

Warnings: NONCON ELEMENTS (it’s Carl and Sandy and if you are reading this, you’re damn well aware of what they do - no full on rape though! Just noncon touching), murder/ serial killers, being held at gun point, description of blood and violence, typical Carl and Sandy stuff

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: There are parts of this that are from the movie directly and I do not claim to own those parts. All other original parts are mine though!

Part 2 out now!

____________________________________

It was no secret that Sandy was unhappy with her life with Carl anymore. She wasn't quiet about it- not even to him. Any logical person would think that she'd be scared to tell her serial killer partner that she was tired of killing people but she wasn't sure if she cared about the outcome anymore. She already felt dead inside. 

"Carl, I'm done." 

"C'mon, Sandy. It's not that bad." Carl tried to convince his partner, looking over at her from behind the wheel. 

Sandy scoffed sadly, "I don't like when they cry." 

"But they take the best pictures," Carl responded insensitively. They drove on in silence for a while down the highway, ever consciously looking for their next victim. "You know what? How about we try something new, huh? We can try to make this next one a little more interesting." 

Sandy rolled her eyes and stared out at the landscape as it blurred past on their trek along the highway. That wasn’t what she meant and Carl knew it. She didn’t want to make things more interesting. She wanted out. She knew it was no use arguing, though. Carl always got his way. 

**

You stood at the edge of the road, thumb extended as the occasional car passed by, to no avail. Your car sat dead in the turn out behind you. Your duffel bag was laid down on the ground by your feet, your dark blue floral skirt blowing against the material when the breeze blew. Of all the roads to break down on, it just had to be the one in the middle of nowhere Ohio - West Virginia border where almost no cars drove past. It was beginning to get dark and your nerves were starting to fray at the thought of being stuck in the woods alone at night. 

Finally, a car drove up to you and you waved your hands to get their attention, put on your nicest smile, and stuck your thumb out. The vehicle slowed to a halt beside you and you saw three people in there, a woman driving, a man rolling his window down to talk to you, and a young man in the backseat. "What's a sweet girl like you doing out here stuck on the side of the road?" The man questioned with a smile. 

"My car broke down and I just need to get into town to call a mechanic." You gestured back to your old yellow Ford that had started acting up a little ways back. When you pulled over to take a look at it, it just wouldn't start up again. 

He looked over at the pretty blonde lady driving, giving her a look you couldn't see but she returned one that you couldn't quite read. The man turned back to you with a smile, “Well we’re dropping this fella off in Meade but I’m sure we could drop you in the next closest town. Shouldn’t be too far if you’d like a ride.” 

A smile spread across your face, “Thank you so much.” You picked up your duffel bag and hustled over to the side of the car that was bordering the road, sliding into the seat when you threw the door open. 

“What a good day for makin’ new friends, huh, honey?” The man said chipperly before turning around to look at the two of you in the back seat. “What were your names?” 

“Y/N.” You answered warmly, glancing over at the boy beside you who sat stiffly, his jaw clenched tightly. You’d assumed he was with the couple but it seemed you may have been wrong. 

He swallowed after a brief pause, his eyes widening in fear for a moment, “Arvin, sir.” 

“Well, Arvin and Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you two. I’m Carl and this is my wife Sandy.” He patted Sandy on the shoulder and she gave him a small forced smile. Trouble in paradise, you thought. “Where you from Y/N?” 

Your hands laid prim and proper in your lap, holding your skirt down from the breeze from Carl’s rolled down window, “Just a small town not too far from here actually. Barren Springs? Not many people have heard of it.” 

“Can’t say I have,” Carl shook his head. 

Arvin chimed in for the first time since you’d gotten in the car, “I've been through there for work before.” 

“Yeah? You live nearby?” You asked, looking over at him. A blush heated your cheeks at the site of the handsome young man. His curly brown locks were messily pressed down against his head from the baseball cap that he had curled up in his lap. 

Arvin just nodded a little when he made eye contact, “Coal Creek.” He swallowed hard, before his eyes darted away from yours and bounced off every moving object he could see.

“Oh, nice! I’ve only ever driven through it on the way to my grandparent’s house but it’s a cute little town.” You chipped, waiting for a response from Arvin but he only gave you a curt nod and fidgeted his hands along his legs. A thick silence settled over the car for a moment and you cast your gaze away from the attractive boy down to the mechanism that allowed the driver’s seat to adjust on the ground of the car, suddenly feeling like you overstepped with Arvin with your seemingly innocent comment. 

“Looks like you’re set for a trip. You leaving or coming home?” Sandy asked, looking at you through the rear view mirror. 

“Comin’ home,” You responded, replacing that polite smile and slightly higher voice you did when speaking to strangers, “A friend of mine from high school moved to Blacksburg with her sweetheart. I just went out there for their wedding.” You smiled at the memory of their ceremony. It was one of those marriages that you just knew was meant to be. 

“Awe, I just love weddings.” She said dreamily, gazing nostalgically out across the road. 

You smiled and made a small noise of agreement. At the thought of weddings, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the idea of marrying the man sitting beside you. It was silly, you knew, fantasizing about marrying a complete and total stranger. Barren Springs didn’t have many good suitors to pick from and you had yet to make it out on your own into the world. It had been a long time since you’d been physically attracted to anyone as strongly as you were attracted to Arvin. Besides, you weren’t fantasizing about marrying him, per se, but more so just having a wedding with him. The thought of seeing him so handsome and dressed up and the way his eyes would sparkle with adoration when he saw you walk down the aisle in your dress. It was ridiculous! You could have laughed at yourself. You just wanted to think that maybe there was some possibility that he thought you were half as beautiful as you thought he was. 

After some time driving in silence, with you sneaking many glances at the man sitting beside you, Carl spoke up, “Oh shit, my old billy don’t work like it used to. I’m gonna have to pull over and take a leak.” He trailed off, looking over at Sandy with a smile. She gave him a sharp look but slowed down. You wondered just how often of an inconvenience this must have been if she seemed so annoyed by the request. “Is that alright by you two?” He asked a little louder, directing the question at you and Arvin. 

You and Arvin both got strange looks on your face, finding it strange that he felt the need to ask if he could use the restroom. “Sure,” Arvin muttered. 

“Yeah, of course.” You added, eyes flicking between the man and woman up front. 

“There should be a road up here on the right,” Carl directed Sandy, “Little further. Little further. Slow down. Right here.” The car slowed and rolled to a stop, rocks crunching beneath the tires. “This is good.” 

You craned your head to watch the main road disappear a few dozen feet behind you and your nerves perked up. Arvin must have noticed the way you sucked a deep breath in, louder than usual, because he glanced over at you with a look in his eyes that told you that your sudden uneasiness was not unfounded. You watched as his eyes shot back and forth between the couple and then around at your surroundings. 

You began to pick at the hem of your dress. Hitchhiking was something you tried to avoid at all costs and managed to do so successfully until this very day because the idea of getting in a car with a stranger made you nervous. You knew that in all likeliness, Carl probably was just going to use the restroom and then return and you’d be on your merry way. The little indecipherable looks he and Sandy kept shooting each other didn’t escape your notice though. 

“I won’t be long.” Carl reassured, opening the door and stepping out. As he did, his jacket lifted and you saw the pistol tucked in the waistband of his pants clear as day and your eyes widened in silent panic. 

A lot of people own guns out here, you tried to rationalize but it still didn’t sit right with you. None of this did. A rock the size of Texas sat heavy in your gut and you had an extreme urge to get as far from here as possible without raising suspicions. For one, it would be extremely awkward if you were wrong and you were freaking out over nothing. On the other hand, if they were planning to kill you, it could speed up the process before you could think up a way out of it. 

You glanced over at Arvin and it was clear that he had noticed the gun as well because his jaw clenched tightly and his eyes followed Carl like a hawk watching a rabbit. Your hand slid across the seat and you nudged his leg, nodding ever so slightly towards Carl with wide implying eyes. Arvin breathed deeply and nodded, having seen exactly what you had seen. It was validating to know that Arvin didn’t feel right either but it was also even more unnerving because it meant the likelihood of danger was more likely. 

Arvin rolled the window down to watch Carl more clearly and Sandy shifting up front drew your attention. You looked up to see her absentmindedly trying to light a match for the cigarette that hung between her lips. Finally, she got it lit and brought the flame to the tip of her cigarette. You watched her do this with intent, so much so that you jumped when Carl leaned through Arvin’s window and loudly announced, “Damn. That’s gonna be one fine sunset. You have to be patient with me while I get a few shots off. Hon, give me the key.” 

He must have noticed the uncomfortable looks on yours and Arvin’s faces because he reassured, “Don’t you worry none. We’ve got some hooch in the back and… well, you got two pretty ladies with ya.” Carl raised his eyebrows at you and his partner before looking back at Arvin with a wink, “And Sandy’s good company.” 

You fidgeted uncomfortably at the way Carl added that last part, not liking the way his tone implied certain things. Sandy turned around to shoot the pair of you a smile, one that both of you returned with a hard swallow in an attempt to not show that you were highly suspicious of whatever the hell this was. Your gaze went back to Carl, where the keys made a bulge in this back pocket and your heart fell at the sight. Those keys were your only chance of getting out of here. 

The back of the car opened and you turned around to watch Carl retrieve a camera and a blanket, the gun still firmly in his waistband, before walking up to the side of the car and opening the door. Arvin flinched and looked over at Carl who motioned outside, “How ‘bout we all share a drink over this beautiful sunset. What y’all think?” 

Your voice came out shaky, “Thank you but I don’t drink. It might be best if we get headin’ out sooner than later though. My ma’s expecting me home soon and I don’t wanna worry her.” Whether or not your words were lies was a moot point. Getting out of the car just felt like a bad move. 

Carl shrugged, “Well, then, you can just watch the rest of us share a drink then. And don’t you worry. We’ll be on the road soon enough- just as soon as the sun sets. Your mama shouldn’t be too worried. Now why don’t you two come join us.” This time, it didn’t sound like much of a question. 

Sandy had thrown her door open and stepped out onto the earth outside, slamming the door shut. You were surprised when she opened up your door and leaned against it, “C’mon, hon. You don’t have to drink any. Wouldn’t wanna miss such a pretty sunset, though, would you?” 

With a partner on either side of you, you and Arvin looked at each other, knowing neither of you had a choice but to get out of the car. Reluctantly, you stepped out and walked around the back of the car towards the clearing that Carl was now leading Arvin too as well. He laid out the blanket on the ground and gestured for you and Arvin to sit down. Sandy followed shortly after with a mason jar full of a light peach liquid. She unscrewed the cap and took a swig straight from the jar, “I made it myself out o’ some strawberries I grew back home.” 

“The best stuff in Ohio. My girl’s got a real gift.” Carl winked at his wife, who handed him the jar. He too took a sip before passing it to Arvin. Arvin just shook his head before murmuring a polite decline. Carl tsked, “C’mon boy. Don’t wanna hurt my wife’s feelings.” Arvin’s jaw tensed before he slowly took the strawberry hooch from your host and tilted it till the liquid touched his lips, though you couldn’t quite tell if he actually let any of the liquid enter his mouth or not. 

He handed the jar back to Carl, not offering you any and you wondered if he was trying to respect your comment about not indulging in alcohol or if he was trying to keep you safe. Regardless, you were grateful. Carl raised the jar towards you, offering it silently, but you put your hand up, “Thank you but I’ll have to pass. I’m sure it’s delicious though.” 

“Alright, suit yourself.” He said with a shrug, taking a sip himself before screwing the lid back on and setting it on the blanket. 

Sandy came to sit just beside you and Arvin on the blanket, looking up at her husband who was still standing. “Wouldn’t they make a cute couple, Carl?” She pondered out loud and you couldn’t help the blush in your cheeks at the thought. Arvin shifted beside you, most likely feeling just as weird about the comment as you did. 

“Now, Sandy, no need to make the poor kids uncomfortable,” He chided lightly, turning around, “But, y’know, this is a real nice picture. Do y’all mind if I take a few shots for posterity’s sake? I mean, seein’ as we probably won’t see each other again after today.” 

Before you could answer, Sandy was already scooting in close to Arvin and forcefully initiating a pose, “Alright, now you,” Carl pointed at you, “Scootch in just a little closer.” Your arms shook as they lifted your body enough to move a few inches closer to Arvin. “Perfect. Now everyone smile.” You tried your hardest to force a smile but you couldn’t get one out that was worth any photo. 

Carl stood up, as if he was in thought, “I’m a photographer and I would love to get some posed shots if y’all wouldn’t mind. Now, Sandy, why don’t you step back for just a moment while we get these two together. Good. Now, Arvin, you put your arm around her- good! Just like that.” 

Arvin awkwardly placed his arm on the ground behind your back, just close enough to look like the two of you were leaning into each other. Carl pulled away from the camera with a smile, “Sandy is right. You two would make a cute couple. Now, Sandy, why you don’t hop back in there. Perfect.” 

Carl paused for a moment to ponder his next pose, “Now, Arvin, why don’t you lean back and touch my wife. Y/N, I want you to kiss him while he does it.” 

The instructions slipped from his lips with such little reservation that you were convinced you misheard him for a moment. The man had been fairly polite thus far, if not a bit odd with his quips and pryingly friendly remarks, so the bluntness with which he just told you and Arvin to perform semi-sexual acts on each other and his wife took you off guard. “Excuse me?” You shrank back, ripping your body away from Arvin and Sandy with a velocity that almost jolted you.  

When you did, your hand grazed a large patch of skin that had previously been covered with her fuzzy cheetah print coat. You whipped around to see her sitting behind you in nothing but her underwear and you quickly realized that you had grazed just beneath her bare breast. “What the fuck!” You jumped, moving away from the nearly nude woman. 

Arvin jumped when her hand rested on his shoulder and moved away as well, looking between the man and woman who clearly saw nothing wrong with what they were doing. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here but we’re leaving.” Arvin pressed with a firm voice, standing up and offering his hand to you, pulling you up to almost be tucked into his side, his hand staying on your arm protectively.

Carl looked at him like he was some naive boy. “Boy, I’m giving you the opportunity to fuck my wife and that beautiful girl over there while I take pictures. You’re a damned fool if you turn this down.” 

“You guys are sick. I will not be having sex with anyone here today!” You exclaimed indignantly at Carl’s implication that you were going to be just fine with this. 

The older man looked over to you and waved his hand with a cocky knowing smirk. “I’ve seen you lookin’ at ‘im the whole drive. You’re tellin’ me you don’t want to make love to this boy right here? And what about my wife? You ever been with a woman?” Carl asked, eyes flicking back to Sandy, who wiggled her breasts and gave you a comforting look that told you she would help you through whatever experience you may have lacked.

You found yourself stepping backwards, away from Arvin even. Your head shook, a boiling mixture of terror, rage, and embarrassment burning inside you, “I-I-I already told you. I ain’t doing no-”

Words failed when Carl reached behind him and pulled out the gun you’d noticed earlier, pointing it right at your chest, “Now look, I hate pointin’ a gun at a pretty young thing like yourself but I’m gonna shoot you if you don’t start doin’ what I say. You and my wife are gonna give this boy the best time of his life and I’m gonna take pictures while you do it. That’s it. You understand?” 

The world around you seemed to freeze while you stared down the barrel of his pistol. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t talk. Sandy moved closer to you, her lips coming to your neck in a gentle kiss that made your skin crawl. A single tear rolled down your cheek while you stared at the gun that was still pointed at you, Sandy’s hand moving to brush your hair off your neck so she had more access. There was nothing you could do. If you made any move to shove her off, he’d shoot you. If you made a move to run, he’d shoot you. If you tried to knock the gun out of his hand, he’d shoot you. All you could do for the time being was let Sandy do what she would until you could find the right moment to disarm Carl and get the hell out of here. 

She looked up at Arvin with sultry eyes over your shoulder, “C’mon, Arvin. You ever thought about being with two women at once before?” 

Arvin swallowed hard as he watched how you sat with tears welling in your eyes, trying your hardest not to break in this impossible situation. He stood in seething anger and fear, his heart breaking a little when your hands snapped up to grab her wrists as her hands crept around your front and unpopped the top two buttons of your blouse. 

There was a click from Carl cocking the pistol and he took a step closer to you, “I told you I would shoot you if you don’t start playin’ along. This is your last warning. You’re testing my patience, girl.” Your legs were nearly giving out on you when Sandy popped open another two buttons, your bra clearly exposed for everyone to see. Your shirt was unbuttoned as far as it could go before disappearing into the waistband of your skirt where it was tucked in. 

 Arvin looked away from your exposed upper body, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable and violated than you already were. Suddenly, there was a small flash and the click of a camera and Arvin snapped his focus over to Carl to see him snapping pictures of you, half nude and trying not to fall apart. A coil of pure hatred had been building in Arvin since the first direction of sexual acts but now he was on the verge of tackling and killing Carl right now with his bare hands. 

When he looked at you, eyes clenched shut now and silent tears pouring out the corners, he could see Lenora. Both of you were just fearful girls being taken advantage of by someone with too much power. He couldn’t save his sister but maybe he could save you. Arvin could feel his father’s Luger in his pocket but he wasn’t sure if he could draw it and shoot Carl before he could pull the trigger on you. His father’s words came back to him. Wait for the right moment. 

Carl whipped his head over to look at Arvin and snapped at him, “I ain’t askin’ again, son. Get in there and start touchin’ those girls!” Carl took the gun off you for just a moment to point it at Arvin and encourage him to approach you and Sandy. 

Now, it wasn’t that Arvin had no regard for his own life. The last thing he wanted to do was die, especially after how hard he’d had to fight his whole life, but he was more willing to risk getting himself shot than you. His hand had been gripped around his pistol in the pocket of his denim jacket, just waiting for the right moment to get the two of you away safely. In a second, he cocked the gun and drew it quickly, firing sloppily in Carl’s direction. 

Two gunshots rang out. 

You screamed, thinking that Carl had just murdered Arvin before your eyes and that you were next. Your eyes were clenched shut until you noticed Carl seethe in anger and pain, “Fuck! Fuck you boy!” And then multiple more gunshots. 

This time, there were no more groans of pain, only the heavy thud of Carl’s body on the ground. His gun fell to the ground when his hand loosened and you dove for it, snapping out of Sandy’s grip. You landed hard, your bare chest and abdomen scraping painfully against the sticks and rocks when your body slid against the rough ground. You grabbed the gun and turned to point it at Sandy, who had also procured a gun from God knows where and had it aimed right at you. You didn’t hesitate.

Again, there were two bangs. 

You fell back after you fired off your shot and in your panicked state, you couldn’t tell if you’d been hit, your arms had given up supporting your weight on the ground, or if the recoil from the gun was that intense. 

There was the sound of another body hitting the ground. 

Arving rushed to your side, falling to his knees and inspecting you for immediate signs of physical distress. “Are you okay? Were you shot?” 

Your hands ran all over your body, trying to feel for any signs of being shot. You couldn’t feel any part of your body right now, the adrenaline distorting your perception of pain. Even the large bloody scratches on your chest, breasts, stomach, arms, and knees weren’t causing any discomfort at the moment. You shook your head, “I- I don’t think so. Were you?” 

He shook his head, helping lift you to sitting, “No-no, I’m alright. We need to get out of here though.” 

Your knees were shaky as you tried to stand up but they almost gave out on you when you saw the dead bodies on the forest floor. Carl had been shot three times, twice in the chest and once in the arm. Sandy was already pale with a bloody entrance wound in her throat. 

“Oh my God… we killed them.” You were nearly hyperventilating, stumbling backwards. Arvin walked with you, holding you up until you stopped moving. 

“They were gonna kill us. We had no choice.” He held you tightly by the shoulders, looking straight into your teary and panicked eyes. 

“The police ain't gonna believe that.” Your entire life just crumbled to pieces before your eyes, all because you hitched a ride with some strangers. 

Arvin shook his head, “That’s why we gotta get outta here. Leave ‘em. Don’t tell anybody about what happened.” 

His words sunk in and you nodded in agreement. The honest part of you wanted to tell the police. Maybe they could help you but you knew that there was an equal chance they’d lock you up for murder as well. You couldn’t risk it. Running was the only option. 

Carl’s gun was still in your hand and once you realized it, you wiped it down on your skirt before placing it back in Carl’s hand. “What’re you doin’?” Arvin asked, watching you meticulously place it as if it had just fallen in place. 

“Makin’ it look like a murder-suicide. They can’t pin it to us if it don’t look like they were just murdered.” You explained, leaving the gun in his hand and taking a few shaky steps back as you stared at the corpse. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. You had never imagined yourself shooting anyone let alone fixing a crime scene to get away with murder. This was an extreme situation though. You had to shoot Sandy and Arvin had to shoot Carl. They were going to kill you two if you didn’t kill them first.  

Arvin noticed the way your face had noticeably paled and how your eyes were glued to Carl’s body and the splatters of crimson liquid that pooled on his shirt and dripped onto the earth beneath his body. He stepped between you and Carl’s body and put his hand on your shoulder, the other gently on your face. His beautiful face blocked your view but you still struggled to fight the tunnel vision. “Hey, look at me. Look at me!” He urged, his grip on your face getting ever so slightly more firm when he noticed your eyes try to dart around his frame to see the body again. Arvin wasn’t hurting you by any means, just trying to keep you focused on him. “You did what you had to do, ya hear me? They was gonna kill both of us. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong. Now we just gotta get outta here, okay?” 

You swallowed hard and nodded, your eyes squeezing shut tightly for just a moment to ground yourself. In your brief moment of meditation, you tried to focus on anything to ground you but the only calming thing you could process was Arvin’s comforting hands on your shoulder and face and the way you could feel his gaze still on you with so much concern and determination, even with your eyes closed. 

When you opened them again, you breathed out, “Okay.” 

Arvin glanced down and noticed the thin trails of blood that were starting to dribble down your torso from the deeper scrapes and at first reached out to button your shirt for you but hesitated, his hands shrinking back when he realized he wasn’t sure whether that was the appropriate response. You flinched back a little when he reached for your top out of pure instinct but quickly relaxed. You glanced down, just now noticing that your shirt was still unbuttoned. “‘M sorry, I just…” You trailed off, unsure of how to explain your new reaction in light of the trauma you’d just gone through. Your fingers nimbly began to button up your shirt but you hissed when the fabric tightened around the copious lesions. 

“No, it’s alright. Here, take my jacket.” He was already shrugging off the denim jacket before he finished speaking. 

You put your hand up, clutching the opened fabric of your shirt together in your hand in front of your chest instead of buttoning it properly, finding this way you could keep the fabric from sticking to your wounds. “I can’t take your jacket. I don’t wanna get blood on it.” Arvin’s eyes followed yours until they landed on the small spots of blood already seeping through your thin blouse. 

Without allowing you to protest, he slung in over your shoulders, engulfing you arms and all. “It’s fine, really. I insist. You can’t go walkin’ ‘round all exposed like that. I can try to help you clean up if we find any rags.” 

You sighed when the fabric covered your arms and his scent engulfed your senses. Yet again, you found yourself numb to the world, if only for a second, but this time because all you could experience was Arvin Russel. Tunnel vision made him your only view and all you inhaled was the scent of clean musk, wet earth, and the faint scent of car grease. “Thank you.” You whispered, gripping onto the open sides just enough to keep the garment from slipping off your shoulders. 

Arvin just nodded reassuringly before wordlessly taking off towards Carl and Sandy’s car. You followed curiously. He searched around frantically and, while you were unsure of what he was looking for, you were curious to see what he’d find. For the most part, there was nothing out of the usual, until he came across a roll of film in the glove compartment. With trembling hands, he unrolled the small canister and looked at the negatives. “Oh my God-” He trailed off in horror. 

“What is it?” You asked, reaching for the film. The images nearly made you throw up. Even though they were difficult to see because they were only negatives, it was still fairly clear what they were. Pictures of men and Sandy filled the roll but they got progressively more violent and graphic, sexually and gorily. At first, they were just sitting together but then Sandy was topless in the next one and then they were kissing in the one after that and then the man would be naked in the following. Eventually, there’d only be a pool of what you assumed to be blood where his genitals should have been before finally just shots of a motionless bloody corpse that used to be whoever that poor man was.  

“Shit… we were next, weren’t we?” You asked, images of you and Arvin facing this same kind of torture flooding your mind and making your stomach churn. The guilt you had felt for shooting Sandy was melting away and you actually felt almost glad you and Arvin had ended this pair of monsters. They couldn’t hurt anyone else the way they had brutally slaughtered these other men. 

“I think so. Fuck, there’s a bunch of ‘em.” Arvin pulled out at least four other canisters, too scared to open them. It was safe to assume what they were photos of and you really didn’t want to see anymore. 

Your hands shook so much you could barely keep your grip on the negatives, “We need to give these to the police. If we prove they were serial killers, maybe they won’t send us to jail. It was self-defense.” 

Arvin really did appreciate the fact that you so badly wanted to be good and honest. Killing people wasn’t easy and he was pretty damn sure you’d never done it before. Hell, before today, neither had he. Maybe it would be easy for you to get off without any charges if you came clean but he was sure the police would be looking for him for killing Preston Teagarden any moment now. The note he’d left for his uncle and grandma back home was pretty much sure evidence that he was the murderer. If the two of you went to the police, he’d be practically turning himself in. He couldn’t do it. 

“I-I can’t go to the police. I can’t tell you why but I can’t. If you want to go to the police, you can’t tell ‘em I was here. Tell ‘em you was by yourself.” Arvin looked up at you from where he sat in the passenger seat. 

You looked down at him, realization dawning on your face. “You did somethin’, didn’t you? That’s why you were hitchhiking. You were runnin’ away.” 

Arvin got quiet and looked down at the ground where your white shoes, now scuffed up from the encounter, made contact with the soil and leaves that covered the ground. He shouldn’t tell you the truth but for some reason he really wanted to. There was an energy radiating off of you that felt safe and understanding and maybe he shouldn’t trust you but gosh did he want to. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he answered, still avoiding your gaze, “I- I didn’t want to but… he hurt my sister real bad.” 

Your silence scared Arvin. He shouldn’t have opened up, especially to a girl that was practically a stranger. Being nearly killed by a pair of serial killers creates a strange bond between two people though. Arvin’s heart stopped beating until you finally spoke again. “I believe you. It’s okay.” 

The surprise was clear in Arvin’s scared eyes when he finally looked back up to you. You didn’t look scared of him like he had feared. You actually looked almost sad for him. 

Inside, you were. Arvin Russell was a good man - you could just feel it. From your brief but intense experience with him today, you could tell that he was a kind, polite soul but there was clearly a fire that burned inside him, an urge to protect those he cared about. You had seen first hand that he was more than capable of protecting himself and others, even at high stakes… and now so were you. You were no different than him now so you were in no position to judge for what he may have done. 

“If you don’t want to go to the police, we won’t. We can get as far from here as possible and keep this our secret.” You assured, uncomfortable by how comfortable you were with the idea of running from the law.

Arvin took a moment to try and figure out the next step. Whatever it was, it needed to happen fast so you two had enough time to put space between you and the crime scene. He thought to the next closest town and groaned, “What’s wrong with your car?” 

“I don’t know. It just started actin’ up while I was drivin’ and when I pulled over, it wouldn’t start up again.” You thought back to the vehicle, which still sat on the side of the road no more than three miles back.

Arvin stood up from the passenger seat and you stepped aside so he could have some room. “I know a little ‘bout cars. It might not be too bad a fix. Walkin’ back and fixing up the car wouldn’t take as long as walking the next ten or fifteen miles to Falksville.” Arvin was right. You were right between Coal Creek, where apparently Arvin was on the run from, and Falksville, the next town over. It would take hours to walk there. 

“Alright,” you agreed. You walked to the backdoor and opened it to grab your duffel bag, handing Arvin his bag as well. Before the two of you started your trek back to your car, you couldn’t help but look back at the crime scene - the two dead bodies lying motionless, knowing you did that, the way that you had manipulated the scene, the way that you were running away with Arvin to literally flee the police. The weight of the situation weighed on you with a heavy sigh. 

A hand rested on your shoulder, “We did what we had to.” You tore your gaze from the scene, the image burned into your memory for the rest of your life. It was difficult to argue with those beautiful brown eyes that looked at you like you were someone he genuinely cared for, not like you were the stranger to him that you actually were.

You stood up a little straighter, cast one more look over at the scene before turning around to face the road. “I know.” 

**

The walk took almost an hour and neither of you tried to hitchhike your way there. Once you arrived, you attempted to clean your wounds with a pile of napkins you had hidden in your glove compartment and a water bottle while Arvin tinkered under the hood of your car. it didn’t take long for him to figure out the problem and with the help of the tool set your father insisted on you keeping in your trunk in case of an emergency (like this), he was able to get the car up and running. 

“Alright, try it now.” He instructed from under the hood. You sat in the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition whenever Arvin instructed to see if the car would turn over. You twisted the key again and the car struggled at first, the pulsing mechanical sound of the car trying to turn over tearing through the quiet woods. Just as you were about to admit defeat this round, the roar of the engine came to life and just like that, your car ran again. 

A big smile spread across your face and you jumped out of the driver’s seat to stand beside Arvin, both of you looking down at the engine beneath the hood. “I can’t believe that worked! Thank you so much!” 

Arvin reached up and shut the hood. “It’s no problem. We should get goin’ though.” 

You nodded in agreement, “Where do you need a ride to?” 

He thought for a moment. Arvin wasn’t quite sure. He had been hitching rides to Meade so he could see his old home but you weren’t going anywhere near that way. He didn’t want to ask you to go so far out of your way but then it occurred to him…. “Where are you goin’?” 

“Back home. My parents are expectin’ me home tonight but I can give you a ride where you need.” You answered as if it were obvious. The best way to act normal was to do exactly that: act normal. 

Arvin chewed his tongue, “You don’t live too far from here. It might be easy to link you to the crime if they catch you.” He didn’t want to scare you but he also didn’t want to see you get locked up. 

You rolled your eyes, “If that were true, they’d have to suspect every person in a thirty mile radius. It’s illogical for the police to single us out. You can stay at my house for a few days, if you need.” 

Arvin just shook his head, “I got some things I gotta do. Look, I really think you should get away for a little while so they can’t connect you to the crime but I understand if not. If it’s not too much to ask, though, would you mind possibly given’ me a lift to Falksville so I can hitch a ride there? I ain’t got much money for gas but-” 

“I ain’t lettin’ you hitchhike your way to Meade. Not after what just happened. I can give you a ride there.” You leaned against the hood of your car and looked up at him sincerely. 

“You sure? What ‘bout your parents? Ain’t they expectin’ you?” 

You just shrugged, “I’ll call ‘em in Fawksville and tell ‘em I decided to head up to Meade for a few days. Shouldn’t be a problem at all. That way I can give you a ride up to Meade and then you can take the bus there to wherever you wanna go.” 

“That’s real kind of you. Thank you.” His hands twitched in his pocket, wanting to reach out and hug you but physical affection had made Arvin nervous ever since his mother got sick. 

You nodded your head back to the car, “Hop in. We can head out and get as far as we can tonight. Either find a hotel or we can switch off when we get too tired.” Arvin listened and wordlessly slid into the passenger seat. 

The two of you drove off into the night, the stars beginning to shine brightly in the lightless woods. You weren’t quite sure what your life would be like now and neither was Arvin. There was blood on your hands and there would be a constant paranoia that one day the cops would catch up with you and throw you in prison, even if you ran away like Arvin had suggested.

And then there was Arvin. Handsome, altruistic, and brave, you were bonded to this stranger by the horrors you had endured and the blood you had shed. Though the two of you were strangers, there was a closeness that you felt to him that seemed impossible to feel with anyone else- a bond between survivors that would always be there, even if you never saw each other again. Something told you that this man would be a salient figure in your life, though. 

As you drove off down the highway, the only sound being the faint crackling radio, you tried to leave the horrors of the road behind you but there was a feeling in your gut that this was far from the end.  

[maybedefinitely404]

For You Became My Lighthouse (Part 2)

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairing: romantic Prinxiety

Content: argument, crying, a decent dose of awkward but it gets resolved!

Word count: 4.1k

Comment: This is the fourth time I’ve tried to post this--- Part 1 HERE!

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

Roman ran a hand through his hair at the message, checking the time at the top of the screen. It was late, far too late, so it was safe to assume that Logan had heard about the spat from Virgil. He should have been home by now. It was just… impossible to convince himself to actually leave the rehearsal studio. He had a younger acting class tomorrow and was perfecting his lesson plan- even though he already knew it was perfect, and his director had already approved it. Just, anything to keep him from going home.

He’d been a dick. Such was obvious; from the second his finger had hit send, he regretted approximately everything in his life that had led to this moment. That day had been particularly bad, overrun with rehearsals he was either taking part in or directing, and gearing up for tech week of a large production. Who knew trying to block a scene with a flurry of pre-teens could take so much out of you? Rinse and repeat the cycle with two more classes to teach back to back and an achingly long dance rehearsal, add in a desperate and fruitless search for a replacement lead in his upcoming directorial debut, and you’d have what Roman would categorize as a “shit show of a day”. 

All he wanted to do at the end of it was spend some time with his boyfriend, without having to talk about his day, so he’d suggested the most basic date his fried brain could conjur. Then his work desk was unceremoniously reacquainted with his forehead as he smacked it into the wood, letting out a groan that bordered on a yell. Luckily, minutes ago everyone had abandoned the theatre, and he’d been trusted with the keys to lock up from a stagehand. He just had a couple more things to do, and then he could drive home. 

Getting a reply of denial from Virgil was nothing new. In fact, he’d been warned in the transition from reluctant acquaintanceship to inevitable friendship, that he tended to veto ideas if they were sudden, or too daunting, or if he was just feeling shitty. It was something that Roman never considered a deal breaker, and he’d slowly come to much rather enjoy a night of cuddling and watching television than going out anyways. Call it ‘getting old’, call it ‘Virgil’s homebody ways creeping into his psyche’. So usually, getting his plans rejected was no big deal. 

Except for today, when he was well and past his limit of frustration, and things not going to plan. He’d typed out and sent the snarky reply far before he’d thought it out whatsoever, and ranted out complaints that hadn’t ever crossed his mind before, which he immediately regretted. In a moment of shame so great it caused physical nausea, he tossed his phone into one of his desk drawers and slammed it shut. 

It buzzed once, twice, and then went silent. 

Until, of course, it began to go berserk an indecipherable amount of time later, and Roman couldn’t ignore it. Seeing Logan’s text, along with about a million missed calls from him and Patton, broke the fragile sense of calm he’d tried to achieve while working. 

He didn’t want to go home and face his consequences. Childish, yes. Well deserved, also yes, but he was afraid of Virgil’s inevitable anger. If this led to a breakup, a fight that wasn’t recoverable, he’d never forgive himself. 

And now…

Roman, is everything alright?

-Logan

I can see you’ve read my text message.

-Logan

I’m at work. 

You’re inconceivably moronic. Get home. Now.

-Logan

Roman sighed heavily through his nose, clenching his jaw. He began typing out another snarky response- because apparently he never learned- when another text came through.

Virgil was in significant distress last I spoke to him and he has stopped answering me and Patton. Go. Home.

-Logan

Please. If not for my sake, then for Virgil’s.

-Logan

Fuck.

Roman barely had the sense to lock the doors of the building in his rush, throwing the spare key back in through the mail slot and booking it to his car. He sent some sort of confirmation that he was going and tossed the phone to his back seat. Virgil hated when he used it while driving.

It was only on the drive back, on unusually empty roads, did he realize it was well past nine. He hadn’t even noticed the time passing by.

Most of the lights in the apartment complex were still on when he pulled into the car park, but their window visible on this side showed only darkness. He wasn’t used to entering a dark apartment.

Their flat was silent, the living room only illuminated by the oven clock and the dim city lights from the balcony. He toed off his shoes as silently as he could, wincing when he kicked their shoe rack, and decided he’d risk turning on the light. When he finally found the switch and flicked it on, he couldn’t help his gasp. 

The room had once been a pristine display, he could tell. A white table cloth adorned their usually bare dining room table and a half burned candle stood as its centrepiece. He approached it in a daze, cautiously resting a hand on the plate of ravioli nearest to him. Cold. Long cold; the pasta was starting to get crusty. 

He picked up the two plates, intent on throwing out the food. It definitely wasn’t safe to eat anymore, and he didn’t feel like warding off an attack of ants in the morning. One of the towels hanging off the oven handle was drenched in what looked like marinara sauce, and it looked like there was some more spilled in the crack between the stove and the counter. That would be fun to clean. 

Both hands full, he opened the cupboard containing the garbage bin with a socked foot, and promptly froze. 

Part of him cringed at the clang the dropped plates made on the counter, but the louder part of him was just repeating a mantra of ‘holy shit, holy shit, holy shit’ and it was considerably out-screaming the other. Hands now shaking, Roman picked up the small box from the sink edge, ignoring the dried, crunchy texture of more tomato sauce on the outside, and opened it. 

It took every ounce of strength for Roman not to collapse to his knees, guilt instantly crushing the air from his lungs, a thousand times heavier than it had been before. An elaborate dinner, a ring… there had been a plan. That’s why Virgil had rejected his offer to go out. 

And he’d been such a dick to him. 

Speaking of which, where was he?

Roman closed the box and set it back where it had been. Their bedroom door was slightly ajar, and the most obvious place Virgil would be, so he padded over and creaked it open just a bit more. The light from the hallway cast a beam onto the bed, illuminating first a mess of hastily thrown clothes; his button up shirt he only used for fancy occasions on top of the pile. 

Virgil’s huddled form was easy to make out, curled away from the door, his only movement being the steady rise and fall of the blanket as he breathed. Figaro lifted his head from where he was settled in the crook of Virgil’s knees and gave Roman an indifferent mrow. 

He couldn’t get into bed with him. There was no scenario where that was the right move. It wasn’t the right time to talk about what had happened, not so late and when they were both riding high on emotions and tiredness, so accidentally waking Virgil was not the way to go. And even if he was sneaky enough to not wake him… a part of him just felt it was wrong. Not when he didn’t know Virgil’s stance on him at the moment.

Or his stance on the relationship.

Well, couch it was. He acknowledged the crumpled weighted blanket and sound blocking headphones- clear aftermath of a bad panic attack- with a quiet curse. Somehow that pit in his stomach got even bigger, making him nauseous as his shame took a physical form. 

He could only pray that they would come back from this. 

Roman’s sleep was fitful, to say the least. At best, he drifted into a state of half-consciousness, where his thoughts could be somewhat quieted down, but the discomfort of the couch and the heavy weight in his heart were still palpable. Inevitably, one of their neighbors would make a noise or the building would make a settling creak or a distant dog would bark, and the state would be broken, leaving Roman wide awake and wracked with guilt once more. He’d never noticed how loud the world was until he wanted nothing more than for the noise to stop. 

The sun was just peaking into the window when their bedroom door widened and Roman flew up, using the back of the couch to steady his sudden sitting position. When their eyes met from across the room, Virgil in his pajamas and face hidden in shadow, a tenseness settled over the room that neither had experienced in their relationship thus far. Virgil froze in the doorway, wavering slightly. It didn’t appear he wanted to be the one to break the silence. 

Roman stood slowly, as though not to spook him.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Virgil whispered with a sniff, and even in that one word Roman could hear the scratchiness of his voice. “I just...uhm,” He cleared his throat, “I just wanted to get some water. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already awake. No… no worries.” 

Virgil looked down to his feet. “When did you come back?”

“I think just before ten.”

“‘Kay.”

For an all too long moment, both of them seemed to find interest in every part of the room that wasn’t the other’s eyes. It wasn’t until Roman looked towards the kitchen in his awkwardness did he process what Virgil had come out for. 

“I’ll, um…” He pointed weakly to the kitchen and finally convinced his feet to move, filling up a glass from the sink while making a conscious effort to not look at the dishes or wasted food from the evening before. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop the way his gaze drifted towards the box sitting next to the tap, and judging by Virgil’s sharp inhale, the look hadn’t been subtle. 

He took the glass back to the other, watching him take it with an uncomfortable, “Thanks.”

Virgil downed the glass in one go, his shaking hands almost causing him to spill. He barely had time to take a breath before Roman had zipped the empty glass back onto the counter.

“Do you want more?” He asked, already refilling the glass.

“No, I’m… it’s okay.” 

Roman placed the full glass on the counter quietly and the two were swallowed by heavy silence once again. The clock ticked impossibly loud as they stood, fidgeting, wanting this moment to be over but not wanting to be the one to start it. 

Virgil took a shuddering breath and wrung his hands together.

Roman stared resolutely at a single water drop making its way down the glass.

This was his fault. He’d started it. It seemed only right that he break the tension that almost suffocated him, so even as his mind screamed for him to shut up and every muscle in his body turned to liquid, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Virgil, I-”

“I’m sorry.”

That effectively stopped Roman in his tracks. All night, he’d crafted a collection of apologies, from eloquent monologues to stumbling pleas for forgiveness, but in not one of his countless scenarios had Virgil apologized. 

“I know… I know I can be a lot to handle, I know, I swear. And I was more outgoing when we first met, because I thought I had something to prove and it always exhausted me and I hated it but then we became… I don’t know, official? And closer and… and more comfortable and I didn’t think I had to do that anymore, I didn’t have to keep pushing myself so far!”

“V, stop-”

“The panic attacks and the anxiety and all that shit are a lot for other people and I know that but I didn’t know it was too much for you, I didn’t know you were tired of that and I can be better, I swear, I swear I can go back to how I was in the beginning, just please don’t leave.”

Virgil let out a choked sob and Roman couldn’t stop himself from rushing forward, intent on holding his stupid, stupid boyfriend until he realized this was in no way his fault, only for Virgil to back up before he could do so.

“I’m- I’m not trying to guilt you, I’m sorry, I just, I love you, and I can be better, I can, just give me a chance, please-”

“Virgil, baby, come here.”

This time when he reached forward, Virgil allowed himself to be pulled into his boyfriend’s chest, basically collapsing against him as soon as Roman’s arms tightened around him. The dam broke moments later and Virgil finally let go of his own hands to grab the back of Roman’s shirt with a sense of urgency.

“Please don’t leave, I’m so sorry,” he begged raspily into Roman’s shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” 

Roman hung onto him almost as tightly in return, rocking them back and forth, finally allowing himself to cry. He shoved his face into Virgil’s hair, peppering small kisses and apologies to the crown of his head in between sobs. 

Virgil whined when Roman finally pulled away, but he didn’t go far, cradling his boyfriend’s face in his hands and wiping his tacky cheeks with his thumbs.

“Virgil, I cannot apologize enough for yesterday.”

“What are-” he hiccuped, “What are you talking about? It was my fault.”

“No, no, no no no no no,” Roman whispered, fighting that damn lump in his throat once more. “I had a spectacularly shitty day, and I took it out on you. I was leagues out of line. It wasn’t fair to you and I’m so, so unbelievably sorry.” 

As if the strings were cut on a marionette, all the tenseness dissolved from Virgil’s shoulders and he slumped forward, bumping his head weakly into Roman’s chest. “Can we sit down?”

“Yeah, of course.” Roman clumsily led him to the couch and sat on the adjacent cushion, assuming that if Virgil wanted to talk, he’d want his own space. His assumption was incorrect, however, judging by how Virgil crossed the space almost instantly and buried himself in Roman’s side like a koala. He shifted them both until he was laying on his back, Virgil splayed across him .

“I thought you’d be more upset with me,” He muttered, freeing his hand to run it through Virgil’s hair. His fingers raked through his own tears trapped in the locks and he grimaced.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling right now,” responded Virgil, accompanied by a shuddering breath, “I just need to know that you’re really here. And I need you.”

They were quiet for a moment, watching the sun begin to peek through their window, until Virgil spoke again sardonically.

“If this is a dream, I’m gonna be so pissed.”

Roman snorted despite himself and felt Virgil’s responding half-laugh from where he was tucked against him.  

“I agree. I thought I’d fucked up for good this time.”

A disgruntled meow made Roman crane his neck over the couch, watching Figaro stretch languidly in their bedroom doorway. The cat sidled over to his food bowl and sat pointedly next to it. Feed me. 

“Later, Figaro,” Roman groaned, all too comfortable with Virgil as his blanket. A small part of him was worried that if he moved them at all, the spell would be broken, and they’d lose whatever peace they’d settled into. 

Well, that wouldn’t do at all, not by Figaro’s standards. The cat gave an upset mewl and trotted over to the couch, leaping up with grace and batting Virgil’s legs. It was that pettish action that made Roman realize that Virgil had turned stone still on his lap. Figaro changed his approach to headbutting at his arm in a clear attempt to get pets, but Virgil’s hand stayed still by their sides. 

“What’s going through your head?” Roman murmured. 

“That stuff you said, about me… not contributing to the relationship…” Virgil croaked, and Roman stilled,  “What can I do to-… to fix that? Because I wanna fix it.”

“Baby, no,” Roman whispered, that shame-nausea returning, “I-” He groaned, dropping his head onto the arm of the couch behind him, “I was being an asshole. I didn’t mean that.”

Virgil didn’t budge, still deliberately ignoring Figaro’s futile begging for attention. “Then where did it come from?”

He took a breath deep enough that Virgil rose and fell with his chest, and Roman was struck with the profound urge to pull him closer and never let him go. But that would likely make him feel trapped, and that wasn’t productive. “You remember when I dragged you to that improv show my students put on last year?”

“You introduced me as your boyfriend and we found out the class had placed bets on whether you were gay or not. I don’t know how it wasn’t obvious.”

Roman gasped in mock offense. “Maybe they just were trying not to stereotype!”

“Your phone case is a rainbow-”

“Anyways!” He interrupted, resuming his gentle threading through Virgil’s hair, who snorted but otherwise gave in to the affection. “Remember what happened after?”

“Mmhm.”

It had been a fantastic show, and Roman had been exceedingly proud of his little students, especially since it was his first time ever teaching a class. After the night, when the betting chaos had settled and everyone quickly adopted Virgil as theirs now, they’d pleaded to play a few more improv games before the theatre closed. Seeing as it was their last class, hence the performance in the first place, Roman had acquiesced. But neither of the men had expected for the gang of pre-teens to latch onto Virgil and beg him to play too, despite him having zero theatre experience. 

“Remember what they said?”

“They tried to pack all your lectures into five minutes of information.”

“I don’t lecture, I dazzle.” 

“They thought you were straight.” 

“Only some, and that’s not the point!”

Virgil finally lifted his head, pulling his hands up so he could lay his chin on top of them. He smiled weakly. “Then what is the point?”

“The most important rule of improv is to keep the scene going. No matter what nonsense you have to pull out, just never leave a scene flat.”

There was a quiet moment while the other processed that before, once again, that layer of hurt reappeared on his face. He pushed himself off Roman’s chest in preparation to get up. “So… you’re saying you saw that argument as another scene you had to keep up.”

“No, shit, that came out wrong,” Roman insisted, and Virgil paused suspiciously, “I’m saying, that in a moment of panic, I fell back on bullshitting my way through it! That’s literally what I do for a living!” 

The distrust gave way to resignment and Virgil chewed on his cheek, turning his attention to the window. He sat all the way up on Roman’s legs, leaning back on his shins. “How do I know you’re not bullshitting me right now?” He said. 

“Because,” Roman followed him up, careful not to move his legs and dislodge his boyfriend, “You know I like when the bed is made, and even though you hate making it, you always do when I’m out of the house before you.”

Virgil looked down at his thumb.

“Because you let me choose the music in the car.”

“... you don’t like loud music,” He muttered, picking at the skin around his cuticle.

“You adjust your work schedule to come to every single one of my shows.”

He shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, but you hate working mornings. You let me rant about all my theatre stuff, even if you don’t get any of it.”

“I’m learning.” A faint smile was breaking through.

“You tell me when there’s spinach in my teeth, or my hair is messy, or if I’m acting like an asshole.”

“Well, that’s easy enough.”

Roman reciprocated the smile at that, taking Virgil’s hands in his own to stop the attack at his nail. “I’ve been watching you better yourself for years, even if it’s been really, really hard.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Virgil asked with a small blush, switching his fidgeting tactic to fiddling with Roman’s fingers. 

“Every time you do something that betters yourself, you help us, Virgil.” He leaned forward slowly, giving Virgil the time to move away if he wanted to, and rested their foreheads together. “Yesterday, I fucked up. Badly. You said you were anxious and I still acted like a dick. I kinda thought you’d hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” Virgil whispered, seemingly before he had a chance to process it, because his blush multiplied tenfold. Roman grinned. 

“Aw, is someone feeling sappy?”

“Shut up, jackass,” He retorted, bonking their heads together ever so gently. 

“I’m so sorry, Virgil,” Roman said after their giggles and blushes had faded, “It won’t happen again, I swear.” 

In lieu of answering, Virgil closed the already scant distance between their lips, and despite Roman using all of his self control to not sigh into it, he found himself doing so anyways. All the tension bled out of his shoulders at once as Virgil pulled away, pressing one more peck to the tip of his nose, and then leaning back with a small smile. 

“So… that means we’re good?”

“We’re good.”

“Thank god,” Roman groaned, flopping back and dropping his arm over his eyes dramatically. He heard Virgil’s quiet snicker before he resumed his job as a blanket. Except this time, instead of nuzzling his head into Roman’s neck, he could feel the distinct edge of a chin digging into his sternum.

The hand lifted from his eyes to see Virgil staring at him, that goofy little smirk on his face. 

“What?”

“I love you, idiot.”

Well, now they were wearing matching goofy little smirks. 

“I love you too.” 

That seemed to satiate him, because he gave a little nod and laid his head more comfortably on the other’s chest. He could have left the conversation there, content to just let them lay there in peace until the world fell away- or Figaro grew more insistent on being fed- but Roman just couldn’t banish the one persistent thought in the back of his mind. 

“Were you actually going to propose?” He blurted.

Virgil tensed for a moment, and then gave a resigned sigh. “...Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Roman furrowed his eyebrows, desperately hoping he sounded casual, though his heart was pounding far too loudly to not be heard, “I would have said yes. If you did.”

“Oh?” Virgil lifted his head. “You’re blushing, Princey.” He could hear the smug grin.

“Nooo…” Roman whined. His arm draped once more over his eyes in a weak attempt to hide the redness, but he drew it away only moments later when Virgil didn’t retort. 

The man was staring at him with an odd mix of disappointment and amusement, huffing out a breath as he watched Roman’s eyes.

“This wasn’t how I was planning to propose,” He sighed, “It was supposed to be all perfect, and romantic, and stuff. And the surprise is ruined now.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Roman, continuing before Virgil could cut him off, “If it’s any consolation, I think a proposal in our pajamas, on the couch, would be very us.”

“You’re not in pajamas.”

“I slept in these clothes, they count as pajamas.”

Virgil snickered. Roman counted five breaths as the other’s face melted from a smile to anxiously knit brows, worrying his lip between his teeth as he looked down at him. It took another three for him to speak.

 “So…uh... will you…?”

Roman’s face split into a grin, “Yes, Virgil. Obviously.” 

Virgil’s expression morphed to match his and he swooped down to kiss him again, though they barely could with how much they were smiling. They both devolved into giggles, happy to just stay wrapped in each other’s arms, until Virgil broke away with a gasp.

“Let me grab the ring!”

“Ring can wait,” Roman argued, tightening his grip around his waist to keep him in place, “I want cuddles.”

And so they did.

Taglist:

@max-is-tired

@private-snippers

@joylessnightsky

@marshymoop

@larkiaquail

@noemiescuriosity

@mycatshuman

@cirishere

@vpow

@ray-does-stuff

@sirprplsnail

[qianinterprises]

Among the Horses {Part One}

Pairing: farm boy!Jaehyun x female!Reader

Other Characters: OC's, Haechan (sorta, kinda, not really), Renjun (sorta, kinda, not really)

Genre: fluff, angst, country au, farmboys and lady's au, falling in love, slow burn, friends to lovers

Warnings: verbally abusive aunt, yelling, degrading (not the fun kind)

Word Count: 3.8k

Overall Synopsis: Being sent to live with your aunt isn't exactly something wonderful, especially because she's verbally abusive and downright determined to turn you into a "proper lady" who a wealthy man will want to marry. However, perhaps living there won't be so bad. After all, you've got a handsome farm boy teaching you to ride horses.

Part One Synopsis: Arriving at your aunts is very challenging and trying. After being put through the ringer with your attire, you finally get a chance to explore the green world, and spend more time with the farm boy who'd picked you up from the airport.

Author's Notes: So I started this a while ago and didn't really do anything with it, but I love it and I really wanna write more so yeah... Also, I've posted this on a03 as well.

Tagging: @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon @hwangful

A white, dirty pick-up truck pulled off the main road and onto a long, winding dirt road, leading them closer to a grand house that you had only been to a few times in your life. The place you’d be living for the next year or two.

The truck bumped along the loose gravel, crashing over potholes, sending you bouncing on the very worn cloth of the cab, your eyes glancing worriedly to the male beside you, one of his hands planted firmly on the hard steering wheel, the other loosely placed on the stick shifter in the center of the bench.

“Are you sure the tires won’t… fall off?” your voice was thick and laiden with worry.

He glanced over at you, warm brown eyes gazing intently into yours, the opticals flecked with curiosity and amusement. Embarrassment crept under your skin.

“You haven’t been out here in awhile? Have you miss?” he asked, tone filled with friendly amusement.

You awkwardly scratched at your nose, a bit of a nervous habit she’d picked up over the years.

“No. My parents never had the money to travel.”

Your voice was small, etched in nervousness and anxiety.

He cast you a gentle smile as he pulled the truck around a sharp curve in the road, and there it was.

The house was huge, at least three stories high and stretched across the land it was perched upon. The foundation red brick that looked freshly cleaned (it probably had been), a contrast to the pearly white of the rest of the structure. The curves and contours of the slightly oddly shaped house made it more enchanting and nerve-wracking, especially as you grew closer, tires hitting the smooth cement before your driver moved the shifter and parked the truck.

“Head on in, miss, I’ll get your bags.”

His accent was a combination of Asian mixed with southern, an odd mix that somehow seemed so delicately smooth and perfect, especially the way he drawled over the “r’s”

“Miss?”

You’d been stuck in your thoughts, eyes wide as you surveyed the prospects of your new home.

“Right, yes, thank you,” you said softly, moving to get out, the door creaking as it was opened.

Your black, falling apart sneakers hit the tan pavement of the driveway, the hooks of your overalls rattling loosely against your torso as they accommodated your movements; the loose denim legs falling just above your knees as you pushed the dingy door closed.

The male you’d ridden with, Jaehyun, he said his name was, pulled the latch of the truck bed and reached up to grab your mismatched luggage, his sturdy frame pressing into the hot metal of the truck.

“Do you need some help?”

Your voice was small, mixed with worry and hesitation.

You’d do just about anything to prolong the inevitable.

“That’s quite alright, miss,” he began. “You should head on inside. The heat is a harsh place for a lady,” he answered.

You looked down, playing with your fingers, but you didn’t reply. Instead, slowly moving toward the brick steps that would lead to the entrance of the beautiful home.

~

Anina Lee was a strict lady. She liked things just a certain way and she got them how she wanted. She didn’t tolerate bad behavior or disobedience. And she had a strong dislike for people that got in her way. Thus, she had never been married.

She lived alone, if you count having two live-in maids, a chef, and a stable hand that slept in the barn as living alone.

Alina was your aunt. Your mother’s elder sister who had alienated your mother when she’d married a man of lower class. That same man later had a wife who blessed him with three kids to care for, spending his days fixing the cars of those more fortunate than him, hoping to make a buck for his family.

That’s why you were here. A young girl, coming of age to be married off and starting a family of your very own. Your family couldn’t support you any longer, and as you prepared to move away in hopes of finding some sort of job or a life, your aunt had hastlessly offered to take you in. Your mother had all too happily obliged, hoping her only and eldest daughter would learn a thing or two from the elder woman, maybe turn you into the lady your mother and father had tried for years to make you.

The stainless white door slowly opened and an older woman stood in the frame. She was clearly in her 50s, stress lines drawn thickly in her forehead, wrinkles in the corners of her dull gray eyes, deep lines around her nose and mouth, her neck sagging just a little beneath her sharp jaw. She was a small lady. On first glance one may have a hard time understanding what makes her so fierce. She was small in stature, small in size and in frame, but she had the tongue of a snake, the heart of a lioness, and the skill of a chimp.

“(Y/N)! You’re finally here!”

You stood a good few inches taller than the woman, but that made you more nervous if anything. You made her way up the steps and, as you reached the woman in the door, you were promptly pulled into a proper hug that severely lacked warmth.

“I can’t believe you got on a plane and sat amongst all those people in that ghastly attire. You must change at once!”

The woman’s voice was so shrill it could pierce glass, but you held back the flinch.

“Martha!” the same voice called into the house as she pulled you in, shutting the door and encompassing them in the cool air conditioning.

A larger lady appeared, dressed in stained blue jeans and an ugly yellow shirt.

“Please show my niece to her room and help her change into something more… feminine and lady-like,” her aunt’s voice commanded.

“When you’re finished dear, have Martha show you to my study.”

There was no endearing term in the word “dear.” Simply an icy addition to a perfectly manicured sentence.

You watched your aunts receding form, pencil skirt tight on her legs, black heels sharply hitting the hardwood intimidatingly.

“Come with me, dear. Let’s get you changed,” the larger lady spoke softly.

She was older, maybe 60 or so, her skin dark tan, although you couldn’t tell if it was the sun or her natural skin pigmentation. Her voice was grainy, but soft and endearing. Motherly she’d dare say. And you thought that this woman may actually make living here bearable.

You followed the lady up the grand staircase, up two flights of stairs and down a long hallway until you reached the end. The lady pushed open the thick white door and stepped inside, you following her closely.

Inside, the room was surprisingly rustic. A simple, full-sized bed with an obviously homemade comforter thrown across it. A light gray plush rug beside the bed. The hardwood floors were surprisingly and delightfully bare. One large section of the wall was home to a large bay window that stretched from the ceiling to the plush gray cushion of the bench. There were a few flower paintings and other pointless nicknacks scattered on obsolete surfaces around the room, but you paid no mind to them as your attention was drawn to the lady opening the large mahogany grand dresser and plucking out two cloths.

She unfolded both neatly, placing them on the bed and you sighed. The skirt was long and pleated, patterns of red and white stretched in an annoying kaleidoscope arrangement across the nearly pointless garment and the white shirt appeared to be partly transparent.

“Go ahead and get changed dear, I’ll help you when you finish,” she said kindly and turned her back.

You waited for her to leave the room but it was apparent she had no intention to. Awkwardly, you began unhooking the straps of your overalls, letting the fabric clang to the floor. Your skin heated up, feeling all too exposed before sliding into the skirt, the itchy elastic clinging to your hips uncomfortably. You pulled your stained blue t-shirt off, swapping it for the crisp white one that you feared you’d stain in the next few moments.

The lady turned around, her wide hips bumping into the dresser slightly. The dresser was sturdy enough not to jostle, but it was obvious the corner was sharp and painful. You almost felt bad at the way the lady’s face winced, but it was quickly pushed away as calloused hands began gripping the delicate skin of your arms, squeezing along the skin up your arms.

She tsked and turned around, rummaging through the dresser once again, only to turn around with a black, light cardigan.

You gawked. Why on earth would you wear that atrocious thing in this weather? It was the middle of August! Not December!

“I know. But if your aunt were to see your arms, she’d have a fit. She probably still will,” she said.

You sighed. Your aunt hadn’t changed one bit. Your skin was fragile. The tops of your forearms lightly tanned, a pigment passed on from your father. The rest of your arms and body entirely was light. Lady’s should be gorgeously sunkissed to be beautiful and to be taken seriously.

With a huff, you put on the long black sleeves, the intricately designed cotton draping over your shoulders perfectly. But that didn’t mean it was any more comfortable. You could already feel the added heat seeping onto your skin. You’d be sweaty and uncomfortable soon.

“Now let’s do something about your feet.”

You looked down; your worn socks had holes all through them, mud permanently stained to the sweaty fabric.

Bustling from the room, you were left stunned in the wake of the surprisingly fast woman, watching her round the corner and disappear down the hall to fetch something to apparently “fix your feet.”

You thought you’d do something to speed along the process. The more time spent getting you dressed in these ridiculous clothes, the less time you had to explore the outside world. You made your way to the bay window, taking a seat on the plush cushion that accommodated you nicely. You pressed your back against the edge of the wall and turned your gaze to the picturesque green world filled with surprisingly lush looking grass, dips and hills along the valley, and the tops of trees further off in the distance. All this land was yours for the roaming. You couldn’t wait to get out those doors and go exploring.

The sound of water sloshing in a pot brought your attention back from the window, glancing curiously as the large lady placed the pot down in front of the window.

“Put your feet in.”

You didn’t argue. You were hesitant, but thought better than to argue and have your aunt boil you alive in this pot.

As soon as your dingy, dirty, mud pasted feet hit the water, you hissed. The temperature felt that it could boil the skin right off.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s hot, but your aunt is expecting you down soon and I have to do this as quickly as possible,” the lady said.

Grabbing your left foot, she picked the appendage up from the water along with a suds coated dish sponge and began mercilessly scrubbing away at the tender flesh. You whined and howled, tears pricking to your eyes as your skin was scrubbed and abused by the harsh bristles of the brush. You attempted to yank your foot away, but the tight grip on your ankle prevented much movement. You were stuck suffering as the skin became reddened from the irritation.

~

As soon as the painful experience came to a close, your now pink feet were dried with a towel before being slid into a pair of eccentrically beaded, golden strapped sandals that accentuated the rest of the over-the-top outfit nicely.

“You seem presentable enough now, although I’m sure the mistress of the house would have a few unkind things to say about your wild mane.”

You tried not to take offense. You liked your hair. It was an untamed mop that curved wildly carefree, blowing in the breeze that picked up the thick tufts.

“Thank you for your help ma’am.”

She bowed at the waist, a kind smile on her lips.

“No need for the ma’am dear. Call me Martha, or Mrs. Rivera if you must.”

And with no more haste, Martha Rivera led you back down the grand staircase to the bottom floor, the tight flats biting at your heels and ankles with every step you took, fighting off the winces that followed. You rounded a few sharp corners, venturing into a large sitting room with an extravagant flat screen high on the wall and couches that looked brand new. Through a dining room, table decorated with a sequined bronze cloth and the finest China you’d ever seen, although that wasn’t really a stretch. Finally, they made it to a large oak door, cracked just enough that you could see your aunt’s silhouette sitting behind an elegant red desk, glasses perched on her nose, pen in hand, eyes married to the computer screen. Mrs. Rivera left you by the door, and you almost spun on your heel and walked away. But of course, that would be too easy.

“Come in child. Stop standing in the doorway.”

Your blood froze in your veins. You pushed the door open and stolled in, tripping over the lion skin rug, stumbling a bit before catching your balance. Harsh wisps of breath rushed past your aunt's lips and the chair creaked as the weight lifted from it.

You straightened your back, staring fearfully into the cold gray eyes that trailed over your face and down your clothes.

The woman began moving slowly around you, manicured nails and boney fingers tracing over the outline of your clothes and jaw, running through your wild mane and down your hands, inspecting the bitten off nails. As she walked, she muttered things like “hair won’t do” and “horrible posture” before she stood back in front of you.

“You simply won’t do,” she said sternly.

The words hit hard. You may have been expecting something like this, but it didn’t make the words hurt any less.

“You look like you’ve been sleeping with the horses. Your nails are pitiful. Your skin is far too light.”

She gripped your jaw, tilting your head up harshly to expose your still slightly chubby neck.

“Can you ride a horse?”

The question was sudden and it caught you off guard, but you answered as quickly as your brain would allow.

“N-no. I’ve never ridden before.”

The woman sighed loudly, hot puffs of air pouring out of her flared nostrils.

“That’ll have to change. Starting tomorrow, you will be taking riding lessons from the stable boy. Every lady should have the basic skills of riding,” her tone was cold and brisk as she looked away and perched back at her desk.

“You’re dismissed. Dinner is at 6. Don’t be late. You may roam the grounds.”

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed her niece and immediately went back to work, not bating another eyelash as you fled hastlessly from the room, your eyes welling with tears as stress and fear washed over you, although more relieved that it was over and you could finally do something for yourself. You’d start by ditching these God forsaken shoes.

You made your way around the back door of the house, more by pure necessity than memory, simply logically thinking the best way around in the expansive flooring. When you made it, a smile broke across your face as you unfastened the painful shoes, kicking them off in a sloppy jumble by the door before opening the heavy door, the heat of the afternoon hitting your face, not that you minded.

As you stepped out, bare feeting meeting hot cement, you stripped the cardigan from your shoulders, draping it over a random, sun baked chair. You tore off through the grass, laughing giddily, breeze blowing wisps of your hair, skirt fluttering delicately over your skin. It would be difficult to do anything in the blasted thing, but you wouldn’t give yourself enough time to strip down into something better, opting to enjoy the last of the day while you could. And you’d start in the bright red barn your eyes immediately fell on.

~

Making your way through the soft grass that squished under the weight of your feet, you strolled into the half open barn, the soft snorts of animals bringing a smile to your lips. Just because you couldn’t ride, doesn’t mean you didn’t love the animals. You loved horses especially. They were such beautiful and majestic creatures. You’d always wanted a horse, but your family had never been able to afford one. You’d always wanted to ride, and now you could, although you didn’t understand why it was so important to your aunt.

The cool concrete felt rough beneath your feet, stray straws of hay littering the floor. It could have been a picture straight out of one of the Country Living magazines you’d kept hidden away at your parents home.

The first horse you came upon was a tall brown animal, head hung over the stall door, ears perked to attention, eyes trained on the new invader inside the barnhouse. He snorted at you and his hoof hit the barn door lightly in an attempt at getting closer. You stepped closer, slowly offering your hand out, letting the animal sniff searchingly.

“He’s looking for some sugar cubes.”

The voice came out of nowhere, interrupting your serenity, a yelp leaving your lips as your whole body jolted in the sudden fright.

You turned your head to the barn door where your driver was standing, taunt arms crossed over a broad chest, veiled from prying eyes by a lightweight flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His long legs were clad in dusty denim, mud and hay from his knees to the tops of the worn work boots.

“I’m sorry. I just like horses-”

“And you thought you’d come visit them?” he finished your sentence.

You immediately began shuffling your feet, eyes turning back to study the fading paint on the stall to keep from facing him.

Heavy footsteps hit the floor as the male moved closer until he was close enough to touch. His large, rough hand gripped your wrist lightly, bringing it up toward him. You let out a little yelp, riddled with confusion and curiosity until three small blocks were placed in your palm.

“Hold your palm out to him and don’t jerk away,” he spoke calmly, slowly urging you.

You nodded, having some sort of unkempt trust in his words as you turned back to the animal and extended your arm, palm flat, cubed sugar offered to the horse, who greedily munched them right out of your hands.

“His name’s Haechan. He’s a bit of a character.”

You nodded, drawing your now horse-slobbered hand away, opting to stroke the animal's fur from his nose to between his eyes.

“That’s an interesting name,” you said.

He hummed behind you and you heard his boots hitting the concrete as he moved away.

“Do you like animals?” he asked.

You spun around, eyes wide and shining.

“Yes! I love them! Sometimes I prefer animals over humans!”

His smile was gentle as he surveyed your physique, a dusty pink tinting his cheeks, although you thought nothing of it.

“Come on, I want to show you something,”he said, walking past you to the opposite exit of the barn.

You followed close behind, curious as to where he was taking her. Your feet fell back onto the grass, the long blades sliding between your toes as you followed in his wake. As they walked, a white picket fence came into view, not far from the barn, but oddly well hidden beneath the crest of a hill rolling through the land. Once you reached the fence, his hands curled around the boards, hoisting himself up, foot balanced on the bottom board as he climbed up, throwing a leg over one side, then the other, and jumping down. You stared at him in awestruck confusion.

“Climb over, I’ll catch you on this side.”

You didn’t know why you blindly trusted him. You didn’t know him from a random stranger in the town, but you complied, placing your foot onto the same board he had, pulling yourself up and swinging a leg over, then another. The skirt snagged in the boards a few times, one of your feet nearly slipping off the boards as you attempted to keep it pushed down. This proved to be more of a challenge as you balanced on your heels, hands clutching the top piece of wood as you contemplated how to get down now. That is, until his arms outstretched, slightly bent at the elbow, fingers parted, palms facing one another, and you knew what he wanted you to do. Taking a deep breath, you pushed off with your left foot, hands releasing your grip on the fence, letting yourself drop, eyes squeezing in slight fear that you’d soon flop hard against the green earth. But when strong hands caught your waist, arms drawing you in, broad chest breaking your fall, you braced herself against him, feet carefully being lowered until they pressed back into the earth.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.”

His teasing tone had you pulling away, glaring playfully at him before turning and pretending to walk away, leaving him in your path.

At least, until you heard a rustling in the long grass inside the fence.

You squeaked as it grew closer taking a step back as your harsh gaze followed the rustling of the grass, positive a snake would wrap itself around your leg as it dug its venomous fangs into your soft flesh.

Needless to say, you were in for quite a shock when the small head of a brown and white calf popped up from the grass.

And you were sinking to your knees.

The calf moved toward your lowered body, sniffing at your arms until you reached out to run a hand down it’s small head and back, cooing quietly, eyes brimming with unfiltered delight as you wrapped your arms around the baby, stroking the fur of its back lovingly.

“This is Renjun. He’s my little cousin's calf.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to. Your cooes of joy were enough to show every emotion you were currently feeling.

Horrible aunt or not. You could certainly find worse places to be trapped. At least here you had rolling hills of green, beautiful animals to fawn over, and Jaehyun, handsome stableboy who you couldn’t wait to get to know.