#that is all *bows and dramatically pulls the curtains down*

[lemonduckisnowawake]

Male Lead, introducing himself in some story: I'm a playboy with -

Me: I hate you

Male Lead: You didn't let me finish

Me: Ah, right. Sorry for interrupting. Go ahead

Male Lead: I'm a playboy who plays with women's hearts but secretly has a heart of gold, simply searching for the one I will cherish and who will open my eyes to the love I've been seeking through my shallow relationships

Me: I hate you and you need Jesus, not a romantic partner

[blooms-in-april]

In Oxenfurt there is a sacred tradition, which no one dares encroach upon: no one can be arrested during a theatre performance. And the scholars of Oxenfurt, for all their learning, are a dramatic, suspicious sort, and so the law stands. It's been taken advantage of by many a drunk and disorderly student, taking refuge in the audience of the Grand Theatre to evade the guard, until inevitably, the curtain falls and their reprieve is over.

When they come to arrest Professor Pankrantz, his students won't have it. He had come back to them quiet and broken this winter, more careless with his dissent, more bold in his defiance. He did not seem to care when the warrant was put out for his arrest, as an elvish sympathizer, a sodomite, and a conspirator against Nilfgaard.

"He knows the White Wolf will save him. He always does." Essi had said with false confidence, but the weeks pass and the university's protection wanes and the White Wolf does not come.

"He's not coming." Adrien whispers, hunched over his songbook. "We must do something."

"We will," Essi responds.

When he hears the guards outside his office, Jaskier puts down his quill for the last time. He swings open the door.

"Gentlemen!" He says. The armored faces are featureless, unmoving. "How would you like me?" They grab and cuff him hard across the head, then frogmarch him down the hall. His head rings like a great bell tolling the hour. He can feel the blood trickling out his ear.

There is a great crash, and a scuffle, and a large hand grabs him by the elbow. "Geralt." He whispers.

But it's not. Jeremiah smiles awkwardly, and holds his dented tuba in one hand. "I used to be a blacksmith before this." The quiet youth says. "Never thought it would come in handy again."

"My dear boy." Jaskier says as he's pulled along. "You shouldn't have. You saved my life."

"Your tutoring saved mine during finals. I think we're even, Professor."

Jaskier is hurried in through the backstage door, crowded with students carrying instruments, costumes, sheet music, and props. They all part way to let him through. "Top box, Professor." Essi says, hurrying him. "We saved it just for you."

He sits down, bewildered, as the guards shout outside and the orchestra tunes frantically. The curtain opens just as the guards make it into the auditorium. Everything hushes in that special breath before a show.

Essi steps on stage.

"Thank you and welcome to the members of the Oxenfurt Academy faculty, staff, and student body who have come to support this performance," she says. "We'd also like to welcome representatives of various law enforcement communities who have chosen to join us in the Academy Grand Theatre tonight. In the spirit of the arts, leave all discord at the door, and please enjoy this special performance by the students of Oxenfurt - 'The Adversities of Loving', a tribute to the life and works of Professor Julian Alfred Pankrantz."

She bows. The audience applauds. The play begins.

[kbwrites]

Up In The Clouds CH. 3

synopsis: A bet’s a bet, now it’s Satoru’s turn to woo his bestfriend. But behind his carefree exterior what hides underneath?

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⚝tags: Satoru x f!reader, Satoru being annoying, but also... annoyingly cute?

⚝a/n: So so sorry for the wait on this, they got me workin' 6 days a week. #freekez

⚝wc: 1.7k

The weekend. For many it was a time to rest and recharge before another Monday inevitably rolled around. For Jujutsu Sorcerers, however, it seemed like the work never ended. It was nearing the end of summer, so cursed spirit outbreaks had slowed. And today, for the first Saturday in months, you didn’t have a mission assigned.

No classes either; you were blissfully asleep in bed. The sun filters gently through your curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Alarms skipped for the day so you lounge under your cozy blankets. You scroll your phone, looking through Shoko’s newest Instagram post. She always took the best photos.

Through your mindless scrolling, a sound interrupts the peaceful silence.

Knock knock.

You look up at the door wondering if you were just imagining it.

Knock knock 

“(Y/N)!! Hey open up~”

You groan as the voice from the door booms through the quiet dorm. You stretch your tired limbs shivering as your feet hit the cold wood floor. As the door creaks open you see your needy best friend leaning his lanky body against your doorframe.

“The hell are you up so early for, Satoru?”

“Early? (Y/N) it’s 12.”

You nod, eyes closing again. You leave him at the door walking back to your bed. As you plop yourself down you feel his presence looming over you.

“C'mon! I have a stack of pancakes with your name on it.” he whines pulling the covers off your body. Before you can even react you feel the space next to you sink. Satoru climbs into bed with you, taking a dramatic sigh.

“What are you doing?” 

“Taking a nap until you wake up.” He replies turning onto his side with a satisfied grin.

You squint one eye open to look at the man now sharing your bed, just inches away was his face. His snow-white eyelashes and hair tousled against the pillow. And his smell… a light hint of sandalwood tingles your senses.

A man.

In your bed…

Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the sight of him, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched you.

A rush of warmth spread across your cheeks, your mind racing. You were suddenly very aware of the proximity, the heat radiating from his body, and the way his breath lightly brushed your skin. You tried to act nonchalant, but the fluttering in your stomach betrayed you.

All at once every single muscle in your body tensed up. You'd tried to suppress the fluttering feelings you had for your best friend, but his presence so close, so intimate, made it impossible to ignore.  Satoru—ever the observant friend—opens his azure blue eyes to check on you.

“(Y/N)? Everything okay?” He says scootching closer to you. You catch another whiff of his delicious cologne.

Shit.

“Mhmm!” You lie right through your teeth, backing away from his closing-in figure.

He takes a moment to process, wracking his brain for what could possibly be bothering you. The shit-eating grin that appears on his face is all you need to know he’s figured it out.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N),” he teased, leaning in so close you could feel his breath on your cheek. “I can’t possibly be the first guy to grace your bed… or am I?”

“Shutup shutup shutup.”

His hearty laughter fills your dorm room, how unfortunate for Suguru that he couldn’t be the first one in your bed. And how adorable you are all flustered.

 You cover your face with your hands, peeking at your best friend between your fingers. You let out a sigh of defeat.

“Okay fine, let's just go.”

Satoru always had a sweet tooth, for as long as you can remember. The only one who could really keep up with his appetite was you. Long after Suguru and Shoko would bow out, you and Satoru were asking for seconds and thirds. So of course he took you to his favorite spot, a cozy little cafe so you could load up on a stack of pancakes.

“These crepes are SO goood~” your friend practically moans in his chair, taking a concerningly large bite of his strawberry and Nutella crepe. You can’t help but smile at his goofy, exaggerated reactions. You dig into your pancakes stacked high with a mountain of whipped cream. He looks at you with a smile.

“So..” Satoru cuts another portion. “Heard you might be promoted soon~”

You nodded, shoveling pancake into your mouth. “Yeah, soon to be second grade.”

He hummed thoughtfully, taking another bite of his crepe. “Just be careful okay? Don’t try to do too much.”

You roll your eyes letting out a huff, you knew he was probably just trying to be a good friend, but you hated feeling underestimated.

“I’m strong too Satoru.”

“I know THAT..” He trails off, moving his crepe around with the fork. “I worry about you guys, s’all.” 

You took another bite, feeling his gaze on you. His eyes flickered to the corner of your mouth, where a bit of cream had gathered. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Satoru’s hand moved slowly, almost deliberately, to your face.

He brushed his fingertips lightly against your lips, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers were warm and gentle as they wiped away the cream. The brief contact felt electric, making your heart race. Satoru's gaze lingered on your lips, his expression a mixture of playful curiosity and something more intense.

He brought his finger to his mouth, blue eyes never leaving yours as he tasted the cream.

“You really are adorable.”

“SHUT UP.”

With bellies full of sweets, you and your best friend resorted to your favorite pass time.

People watching.

Well more accurately people judging.

“Why is it that girls always end up dating such creatures.” Satoru fake retches as you two see a pretty woman with a… questionable-looking man.

“It’s gotta be money right? He’s loaded.” You add with a smirk.

“Yeah either his wallet or his—Owww!”

Satoru whined in pain as his side is attacked by your elbow. You shoot him a playful glare before turning you attention back to the street. An old lady was crossing the street, her movements slow and deliberate.

“Whadya think she was like in her prime?” The white-haired sorcerer shoots you a sidelong glance.

She struts, clutching her purse, her ears adorned with dainty pearl earrings and on her neck a sparkling necklace. She walks with a grace and refinement you could only wish to acquire in your life.

“Probably had men fighting over her~” You swoon, imagining the elegance of her younger days. Satoru’s gaze lingered on you, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you daydreamed about something that was, quite literally, happening under your nose.

His attention snaps to two middle schoolers walking side by side, a girl and guy. The guy lags behind the girl, poking and stepping on the back of her shoes.

“What about them?” Your gaze travels to the two kids.

“Just boys being idiots as per usual…” You sigh leaning back against the park bench. The sun was almost past the trees, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple.

“I think he likes her.” Satoru hummed thoughtfully.

“Hmm? What makes you say that?”

He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the gentle sway of the leaves in the breeze, the birds drifting effortlessly through the air. Anything other than your face. If he looked at you now, all the feelings he had been hiding would come rushing out. You noticed his reluctance to meet your gaze and wondered about the shift in his demeanor.

“I… have good eyes.” Is all he says before pushing his glasses up on his bridge. A pout forms on his soft pink lips, betraying his unease.

“Hey… (Y/N)?” His voice almost as quiet as the breeze.

“What is it Satoru?” You look over in concern.

“Do you… like being friends with me?” A hint of vulnerability graces the normally carefree teen's voice.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“I..” He trails off, still avoiding your gaze. “I know I can be a lot sometimes..” 

Satoru always had something to say (even when you didn’t want him too). Whether a poorly timed joke, which always ended up making you laugh or just a comment which you had to remind him “time and place satoru” but you always secretly agreed with. This side of him, which was obviously meant to be hidden away from you was on full display right next to you on the park bench. He never seemed to be one to care about what others thought about him, but the reality was he ONLY cared what you thought.

“Satoru..” You reassure, resting a hand on his thigh.

“You ‘nd Suguru are all I’ve got.” He chimes in softly. 

“And we aren’t going anywhere Toru.” You smile.

Satoru sighs, finally looking over at you, and when your eyes meet he feels an unusual pang in his chest. What started off as just another plot to get under Suguru’s skin evolved into something more at that moment. He wanted nothing more than to see you smile, over and over again.

 A faint blush creeps onto his cheeks, he turns away quickly, Letting out an exaggerated yawn.

“It’s late! Isn’t it late? Let’s go back to Jujutsu High.” He speaks quickly standing up.

As you walk side by side down the evening-lit street, you look up at the sky, soft gradients of twilight blue and lavender merge seamlessly. Wispy clouds drifted like delicate brushstrokes across the horizon, their edges softly glowing with the last whispers of sunset.

Satoru is uncharacteristically quiet his mind swirling with thoughts he hadn’t fully acknowledged before. You steal a glance at him, wondering what was occupying his thoughts.

“You know I can feel you looking at me~” He hums, a smirk forming on his lips. 

“Yeah yeah you and your freaky eyes” You tease, sticking your tongue out at your taller friend. The sound of your feet on the sidewalk, and the crickets chirping fill the silence.

“Hey Toru?”

“Hmm?” He says looking at you through his shades.

“Thank you for today.” You chirp, bumping your shoulder into his. He pretends you moved him, knowing full well you couldn’t. A warmth spreads across his chest at your words.

“Y-Yeah.. No worries.” he mumbled trying to keep his voice steady.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer at jujutsu high knew that this curse you inadvertently placed on him, was going to be a hard one to exorcise. He also knew.. that he had to be the one to win your heart, no matter what.

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taglist: @4evahevah @angelofdarkness2 @iangeeluv

@isishsoskdjsk

[cherryredstars]

Hey cherry! I loved your work for a really long time and I saw you had your requests open. 💕

What about dancer!reader and a dbf!Miguel and he just loves to go to her dance recitals and competitions with her dad and smother her in the flowers he bought her as a gift afterwards <33

Pairing: dbf!Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Age Gap, Secret Relationship

A/N: I did ballet for one year in kindergarten and have no idea how recitals work so take my Dance Mom knowledge instead. But I hope you enjoy and thank you, love!

Unedited

You are going to throw up.

You always feel like you're going to throw up right before your performance. Behind the stage curtain, you shake out your arms and legs, trying to loosen your joints and relax your body. The girl on stage right now is doing amazing, and while you're happy for her, you're also scared. You don't want to be lackluster in comparison.

You watch anxiously as the girl makes her final steps before her number ends, and she does her performative exit off the stage. She quickly shuffles past you once she gets behind the curtain, and you both exchange nervous nods of acknowledgment. You let out a shaky breath as you stare at the now empty stage, mouth almost thinning before you think better of it and risk smudging your lipstick. After a bit of silence, you have one of the stage crew tap your shoulder, giving you a silent show of 5 seconds before you get called on. You straighten up, getting into your entrance position just in time for the announcer to call your name and performance piece.

You enter the stage, facing the crowd as the music begins to fade in. The auditorium is dark. Only the first few rows are barely lit from them glowing stage lights. Even so, your eyes zero in on two figures near the center of the audience. You aren't exactly sure how they always find seats in the same area every time, but the dedication and consistency touch you.

When the music picks up, you begin your routine, trying to simultaneously remember to keep your face expressive and count the steps in your head. With all the fast movements, the audience in front of your blurs into one large mass. You can feel every bone in your body softening as you get into your element, muscle memory locking in as the movements become natural and almost effortless. Something in your mind buzzes with satisfaction as your entire being hones in on the carefree nature of your dance, remaining even after the music ends and you do your last step on beat.

The buzz begins to fade to make way to the applause of the audience, and you let out a breathless smile as you bask in it for a few short seconds before you find your way backstage again. A few of your friends come up to you, complimenting you on a brilliant dance. It's smiles and quiet laughter backstage as the rest of the dances and performances continue, filling the time until you all gather on stage again for a final bow and thank yous before you all disperse into the crowd. A few of your friends walk out with you, and one of your friends link your arms with theirs.

"Soooo, are you finally going to go out with us to get something to eat? This might be the last time we all dance on the same stage."

You laugh, shaking your head at your friend's dramatics. It's not even any one of your friend's last year at the studio, just an excuse to guilt trip you into going. From the corner of your eye, you can see a familiar figure staring at you. You shake off your friend, telling them off for their dramatics and giving your friend group hugs and goodbyes. Your friend groans as they're pulled away from the others, yelling back at you that you have no choice but to join them next time. You roll your eyes and wave back, watching as they leave from a side entrance.

The second they leave through the door, you gasp as a kiss is placed to the back of your neck. Your hand slaps around the area as a shiver runs down your spine, turning to find Miguel behind you. You smile, swatting his chest.

"Ew! My neck is still sweaty!" You whine, peering behind his muscular body. "Where's dad?"

Miguel hands you a bouquet a flower, and you smile as you take it from him. They're bright and pretty, smell lovely. They coincidentally match your costume, and you hold them to your chest.

"Bathroom." Miguel answers simply, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "Good job, mi luz. Looked fucking beautiful."

Your cheeks burn, and you lean up on your toes to press a returning kiss to his cheek. You're sure you look awestruck at him, lovesick better describing it. You throw your arm around his neck, your other hand jutted away to make sure the flowers aren't crushed as you hug him. Miguel's arms wrap around you, large hands planted on your up and lower back, rubbing up and down gently. You practically melt into the embrace, only pulling away when you see your father reenter the auditorium. You move to pull away, but Miguel doesn't let you leave without a quick squeeze to the ass.

You gasp in surprise, glaring at him as your dad walks up to the two of you. Your eyes are trained on Miguel's mischievous ones, mouthing You are SO dead, to him as your father pulls you into his own hug. You're practically suffocating in your dad's embrace, but you can't help but smile as he sways you back and forth as he congratulates his "little girl".

When your dad finally pulls away, he ruffs up your hair, laughing at your irritated face as it loosens your hair from the up-do. Your father throws an arms around you, Miguel trailing besides you as your father begins to walk out of the auditorium.

"Let's go get something to eat, I bet your hungry from doing all the twisting and turning."

You nod in agreement, your eyes moving over to Miguel. He smiles at you from the corner of his eye. He grabs your hand as your father begins rambling, clueless to his daughter and best friend.

Miguel gives your hand a squeeze and you hold the flowers a bit tighter.

[healmyhrt]

⌗ photobooth, n. sturniolo

nick x male!reader

summary: you share a sweet moment with nick in the photobooth at prom.

disclaimers!: kissing, mild cursing, use of y/n, short

a/n: i’ve never written anything nick related before, so i wanted to switch it up a little and give nicolas some love <3. tell me how i did, and feel free to leave constructive criticism!

i waited in line next to the photo booth, fidgeting with my fingers anxiously. it was senior prom, and i didn’t even have a date, so i wasn’t quite sure why i was at the photo booth anyway. memories, i guess.

i was a few couples and friend groups away from being next, when i hear a familiar voice call my name from behind me.

“y/n?”

i turn around, and i’m met with nicolas sturniolo, my crush. he grins widely when he sees my face, and leans in to give me a hug. the hug is quick, but i wish it could’ve lasted longer.

we both share a step back to look at each other’s outfits. nick was wearing a white button down, with black slacks and a velvet red tie. i look at his shoes, and he has black high-top converse on.

“i like that you went with comfortability before style.” i say, pointing to his converse, with a smile. he laughs and pulls up a pant leg to show the full shoe, and his funky socks. his socks were purple with black bats all over them.

“fuck yeah. always.” he replies. a few more people move up in the line, and nicolas and i proceed with our conversation as the line continues along.

“so who are you here with?” i finally ask. nick sighs, and looks at the ground. “nobody. not many openly gay boys here, unfortunately.” he replies with a shrug.

“same.” nick looks up and shares a small smile. we’re next up in the photobooth, and i hold the curtain open so nick can go in before me.

“why, thank you.” he says in a british accent. i bow dramatically in response. “of course, good sir.” i reply, mimicking his accent. he laughs, as i seat myself next to him.

i take an envelope out of my jacket pocket, and hold out a ticket. “how many photos did you pay for?” i ask. nicolas takes a ticket out of his pants pocket, and reads it.

“five.”

“me too! we could uh— we can double them, and each get the same five, if— if you’d like.” i stutter out. he smiles, and takes my ticket out of my hand, inserting them both.

“pick a frame!” the machine speaks to us, loudly, i might add. nick scrolls through the frames on the tiny screen, and stops on the pink frame with hearts all over it, that was titled “Love Burst”.

i nervously look at him, and he clicks on the frame, submitting it into the machine. the countdown starts, and i look at nick in panic for what poses to do.

he chuckles, and turns me around, putting his back against mine. we both cross our arms, and put on serious faces into the camera.

the next countdown starts, and we do the same pose, but this time holding up finger guns, and smiling.

“what pose now?” i question.

nick puts an arm around my shoulder, and takes my arm, putting it around his. he smiles into the camera, but i just look at him. i cant help but look at him.

the next countdown begins, and we don’t even realize it. nick turns his head to stare back at me, and i stare into his blue eyes, as his dark pupils dilate.

the camera makes a click sound that grabs our attention, and we realize that its the last one.

“last one.” nick says, turning back toward me. i nervously trail my eyes down from his eyes to his lips, and he definitely notices. “what pose now?” he asks, with a grin. he leans in closer to me, my eyes still on his lips.

“can i kiss you?”

nicolas nods, and i immediately smash my lips onto his. i feel like i’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life, and i honestly have. i’ve had a crush on nick since i was in the 6th grade, and here i was sharing a kiss with him in the photobooth at our senior prom.

the camera flashes, and i pull away, while a blush coats my cheeks. we step out of the booth, and collect our snapshots.

they looked perfect.

[ohsunnyboy]

to chase a dream | zhang hao ˚₊‧⁺˖

all your life, you and zhang hao have been chasing each other. you wonder here, if this is where your symphony ends.

TAGS: musician!au, gn!reader, rivals to lovers, angst with happy ending, suggestive!makeout

A/N: something about zhang hao called for dramatics so here i am (≧∇≦)ﾉ ! self-indulgent as usual :)

WORDS: ~1450, EXTRA: music info and terms here !!

"That was wonderful playing earlier."

History doesn't even begin to describe what you have between you two.

Your friends could joke that there would be enough to write an opera. Star crossed and all. All about the virtuosos of violin and piano. Of Zhang Hao and you.

You want to hark it back to those fitful days in grade school. Full days of comparing sheet music, trying to one-up each other about the difficulty. Hao, and his too big violin case and you, trouncing him every talent show because his hands hadn't quite yet grown out of their stubbiness. The satisfaction in remembering those big whiny tears brings warmth to your soul.

Then, there came high school.

Oh, you loathe it; he doesn't. Not when his hands became a study in lines and grace. Envy would eat you alive if you had any less pride. But you weren't so above yourself to not look at him. Hard to not notice when he grows a head taller and of course, starts topping the local competitions only to shove it under your face.

Your parents loved it. Gave a reason to push you further and deeper into competitions and over the top galas. To push your fire against someone who was all finely diced ice. There was nothing you liked less when you wanted to live for the glory of the crowd, not medals and flowers.

Eyes followed you everywhere when he was in the picture. And yours always found his.

"Here to mock me?" you ask.

The laugh you draw is enchanting. "Never." And it's so sincere you might just believe it. "Just here to say my farewells."

The Winter Gala spins behind both of you: through a door, down some ornate stairs and into a pit of some thoroughly drunk musicians. From the balcony, only the trickles of laughter and music eke out the door. But you would hardly focus on that, not when Hao stands very plainly in front of you.

"Already? it's only an hour into reception." You twirl the champagne in your hand with consideration before you gesture him to come to where you lean on the balcony rail. "Thought you would stay to kiss ass with some of the others."

"Not this time. No, I mean..." The howl of the wind carries his unease. Traffic horns and gala laughter do nothing to smother whatever he tries to hide in his tone. You know him too well.

There's more than history between you two.

But whatever he says next has you rethinking everything. "I'm leaving, leaving. I won't be back in the country for a while so, here I am."

There's a moment where you think he's entirely pulling your leg. Pulling you along to another little joke at your expense. But you've known him your entire life at this point, and you’ve been through too much to realize that he’s not joking.

“… Am I the first to know?”

You count the beats and steady your breath. Years of this, all for what?

“Only Minghao-Ge and Junhui-Ge, and now you. But knowing them, they’ll be drunk enough tonight to let it slip,” he explains in this awfully fond tone. “Mark Lee from the LSO watched me perform at the showcase in July and scouted for me. I think he got on Junhui-Ge’s nerves with how much he emailed him.”

Medals and flowers. Smiles and bows. The curtain draws, where are you now?

"Congrats," you say after a second – watching nothing but your past fly by you. Despite the ache, you raise your glass. "Cheers," you smile and take a sip. Raising it into the moonlight and offering the glass to Hao for his own toast but he just shakes his head.

You pout. "Don’t like it?”

Instead, he takes the glass from you and settles it onto the edge. Pink dusts his cheeks as watches you from the corner of your eye. “Want to remember this.”

Heat flares to your cheeks at the weight of Hao’s words. A night to remember is one way to put it.

"So, when are you off to London?"

"This Monday."

You blink. "... That's fast."

"Why? You think you'll miss me?" and it's said with that smile of his. Infuriating and secret, so many layers of discourse that haunt you – it’s a memory that you'll take to the grave.

"Of course, it's you," you mutter, disgustingly honest with yourself. "It'll just be... quiet, without your excuse of music causing a riot." Honestly, you can barely hear Hao's chuckle when you're too stuck in your head to mind the charm in it.

You want to edge back into your comfort zone of easy quips, nothing serious but scathing wit. But nothing you say lights the fight that used to start so easy back when you two were younger. When your worries were small like the cars below.

A full look at his face is all you want to chance a glance for. What would you see? Remorse? Eagerness? Disappointment? You could read him like a book with a single glance, what’s stopping you now?

"What about you? are you going to stay in Singapore? I thought you'd be the one to chase excitement."

"I’ll chase whatever my parents dangle in front of me.” And the laugh he breathes is empty because you both know it’s bitter but true. Hao’s stood aside long enough to understand. So, when he sidles closer next to you it warms you more than they ever did. "Yixing-Ge told me he's also planning to leave for Boston, promised me that I'll get his seat when it happens."

"If it happens,” he teases.

"It’ll happen."

You nearly jump when you feel it. Hao’s warm hand on top of yours. It’s spindly and calloused, worn out in the way a weathered musician’s should be. It’s all you need to guide you back to where you are.

"I know you'll make it. Just make sure it's something you want.” Hao’s breath is right next to your ear. Clear as day and easy as a song. It’s so simple to say: take what you want.  

Blood in your ears, chest heaving, nothing to catch you when you fall but the discordant crash of keys.

It sounds like a melody.

"It's never going to be something I want."

"Then, what do you want?"

You.

Instead, you turn to face Zhang Hao. A challenge of a smile on your lips because you know where this ends.

To face the music, the crowd, the eyes that watch.

"What's it like? to chase a dream?" you ask.

Brutal, visceral, freeing. An infinite number of interpretations for one word.

The stage becomes your world, and the spotlight burns you alive. Pressure flays your skin even as your fingers glide across smooth keys and you hush your heaving breath. Running to your last page, heart in your hands, smearing red across white. There's no audience when you dream; you are your own critic, you are your own end, but your destiny is not you.

To chase a dream is to become raw.

"Like chasing you."

You hum low and satisfied. Carding a hand through Hao’s hair, you guide him down.

Kissing Zhang Hao feels like being on stage all over again. Being set on fire, skin flaying, blood rushing. It’s everything he isn’t, but everything you are.

You swallow his groan, biting across his lips as your hands trail down him. Everywhere you've wanted to touch feels unbearable. You want to chase this feeling: Hao's hands on your hips and cradling your jaw. Trailing his red ears and holding around his throat; it's little fires everywhere.

Distance doesn’t exist as you push into each other. Hao has you against the rail, hands cradling you like you’re his own instrument. Playing you to pluck you into satisfaction.

Years of us, made for this final movement.

This ache and greed that makes musicians like you two come alive. You know Hao as your years of black and white keys that haunt your dreams and make your reality. There isn’t a crevice in his mind you haven’t touched or a melody that he’s played where he never thought of you.

You hold Hao by the chin, determination set into your eyes and a chord of steel in your tone. "There better be a future for us – I’m not having you leave me here in your past.”

"Anything," he breathes against you. More than history. More than a future. Chasing your dream. "Anything for you."

thanks so much for reading !! this was a tough one but i'm glad i wrote it ! if you enjoyed please like or reblog :D ⭒ masterlist

[showf4lls]

ʚ ― first snow ; slimecicle

info! fluff, minific / gender neutral reader

cw! no CWs

request! "Since you’re wanting slimecicle asks- how bout an x reader of spending a snow day with him?? Cute cuddles while watching a movie or something, but Charlie being the lovable goof he is would be so cute!!"

notes! reader is a lil bit whimsical in this, in that they're really in love with winter and the holidays. sorry if that's not you! it's not really me either, but i though it was a cute idea so i ran with it. also i feel like i don't usually write charlie this fluffy this is so wild

it was abnormally early for you to be showing up at charlie's place on a tuesday, but you couldn't find it in yourself to worry too much as you stood on his doorstep with a scarf wrapped up to your nose. you grinned beneath the scarf, trying not to stare too much at the powdery snow that littered his front yard. your breath came out in puffs from behind your scarf as you waited for him to come open the door. finally, it swung open. charlie grinned on the other side of it. "so the first snow, huh?"

you grinned back, cheeks aching as you shuffled into the warmth of his home. "the first snow, charlie! how exciting is that?" you exclaimed, clutching your bag in your gloved hands. you could barely contain your excitement as you kicked off your snow boots in the entryway.

"i know!" he agreed, holding your elbow so you wouldn't lose balance. he waited patiently as you shrugged off all of your layers until you were just down to your cozies. "so the first snow extravaganza begins! i know you said you had some ideas. what've you got?"

beaming, you reached into your bag and pulled out a box of mix. "cookies and a movie?" you asked, feigning uncertainty.

charlie clapped his hands together, delighted at the idea. "that's a wonderful idea. look at you, all big-brained," he praised, taking the box mix from you.

you rolled your eyes as you followed him into the kitchen. considering that the mix came out of a box, it didn't take very long to whip up the dough and get them in the oven. once they were on the rack and a timer had been set, you and charlie started setting up camp on the couch. you fluffed the pillows, gathered snacks, and piled blankets onto the couch together, waiting for the timer. you were just opening the curtains, making sure there would be a way for you to watch the falling snow during the movie, when the timer went off.

"i'll get it!" charlie yelled, dropping the blanket he was unfolding in favor of racing to the kitchen.

"you just want the first good cookie!" you called after him, unable to hide your fond smile.

"i'll bring you one too!"

a few moments later, charlie emerged from the kitchen, one cookie held between his teeth. another, he carried on a napkin like a silver platter. he bowed dramatically, presenting it to you as you sat comfily beneath the blankets. "for you, beloved," he said, smiling up at you.

you smiled softly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. "thank you, good sir," you replied coyly, humoring his little act.

he watched intently as you bit into it. the chocolate chips melted on your tongue. the temperature was just perfect -- warm without being hot enough to burn you. you smiled up at him. "it's gooey in the middle," you said through a mouthful.

charlie fist pumped, whispering a quiet but victorious "yes" to himself. "good, i know that's how you like them."

you laughed softly, taking another bite. "well, thank you. that was very thoughtful of you."

he leaned down, giving you a quick kiss. "of course. no big deal. i like them better this way anyways. otherwise they come out crunchy, and no one likes crunchy cookies."

another laugh as you finished off the cookie and pulled the blanket closer to yourself. "yeah, alright," you said lightly. "now what do you feel like watching?"

"how would you feel about the grinch right now?" he asked, shuffling under the blankets with you.

you nodded. "i think i could do that right now. the version with jim carrey, right?"

"of course," charlie replied, already looking for the movie on some streaming service. "we don't talk about the other one in this house."

you giggled. "right. sorry, my bad."

charlie bumped your shoulder reassuringly as he scrolled through a search. a few minutes later, the beginning of the film was playing on your tv screen. it was nice, being like this with him. the perfect circumstances of the day, you with no work today and him with nothing planned, conveniently enough. "so far away," he mumbled, pulling you against his chest and slumping backwards against the arm rest.

"'m right here, love," you assured him, settling against his front. you reached for a pillow, hugging it against your chest as you leaned your head against him.

the rise and fall of his chest was comforting, almost making you feel sleepy with the safety of it. charlie yawned behind you and you rubbed soothingly at his arm. "this is really nice, charlie."

he smiled sleepily down at you, giving you a quick squeeze. "really?"

you hummed an affirmative, leaning your cheek against his shoulder. the angle was a little awkward, but the affection of it felt right. "really," you promised. "thank you. for this."

"of course," he said, voice soft yet full of certainty. he leaned forward to kiss the crown of your head, thumb tracing light shapes into the skin of your forearm. "anything for you."

[divinemissem13]

Ocean's Two

Star Trek Femslash Week 2024 Fandom: Picard, Strange New Worlds Ship: Bev/ Una Word Count: 815 Rating: T Prompt: Pulling off a heist

Read on AO3 at the link above or take a peek behind the curtain...

One last hurdle stands between Beverly, Una, and the vaccine supply. Getting here had been easy — distract a guard, scale a wall, climb through a few air vents, pick a couple of locks — with Una's superior strength, Beverly's charm, and both of their impressive intellects and legendary stubbornness, that had all been a piece of cake. But now… this part would be tricky.

Una studies the web of lasers that that keeps them from their goal. There is a keypad on the far wall that should open the door to the vault and might even turn off the lasers but she just has to get to it first. She takes off her commbadge and pries off the back with her fingernails. If she can just swap a few connections, she might be able to turn it into a personal shield…

Without looking up, Una reaches a hand out to Beverly. "Can I use one of your pins? I just need something small enough to get at these wires… Beverly?" When there's no response, she finally looks up to see the redhead smiling adoringly at her. "Don't look at me like that! I hate when you look at me like that!" Una protests weakly because she actually doesn't hate it at all, and Beverly knows it.

"Sorry, I just like watching you work," Beverly shrugs unapologetically. "But you know what? I've got this one." She pats Una on the shoulder and then trails her hand down her arm to Una's hand which she gives a reassuring squeeze. "Wait here," she says with a casual smirk.

Una watches as Beverly toes off her shoes and checks that her hair has not escaped from its tight twist and then she gasps as the willowy redhead slides to the ground and rolls underneath the first beam. Una's mouth hangs open as Beverly bends and stretches her lithe form through the tangle of lasers. "You've got to be kidding me," she groans in amazement. It's at once beautiful and terrifying because one wrong move could set off the alarm and then all of this would be for nothing. It's also sexy as hell.

With a dramatic arabesque, Beverly makes it to safety on the other side of the room. She turns to Una and winks, dropping to the floor in a split and stretching her torso along her front leg in a sort of bow.

"OK, now you're just showing off," Una gripes, crossing her arms over her chest. She is trying to look annoyed but actually she is anything but. She's impressed, proud, and most of all turned on. She is gonna need Beverly to hurry up and get that vaccine so that they can go back to the ship and maybe Una can coax her into an encore performance. "Come on, Baryshnikov, let's move."

"Stop looking so shocked," Beverly teases over her shoulder as she begins to hack the keypad. "You know how flexible I am."

"Yeah, but there's flexible and then there's… whatever the hell that was," Una retorts, shaking her head.

Suddenly the lasers disappear and Beverly gives a yelp of celebration. "Yes! Got it! Oh my, there's even more than we thought there would be! Come help me with this. I hope we can carry it all!"

Una strides across the room and pulls Beverly to her from behind. "Feats of strength: my specialty," she growls into Beverly's ear and then lifts her with ease, swinging her around into a fireman carry draped over Una's shoulder.

Beverly giggles and swats Una's ass. "Put me down, you brute!" she exclaims playfully. "There will be time for that later. After we get this supply to the people who need it."

Reluctantly, Una releases Beverly back to her own two feet, but before letting her go completely, she leans in for a soft kiss. "Is that a promise?" she asks, gazing into the sparkling blue eyes.

"It's a guarantee." Beverly winks and steps out of Una's embrace, returning to the task of packing up as much vaccine as they can carry.

Una hefts a large box onto each shoulder and turns away. With the added cargo, there will be no climbing through vents this time — just a mad dash for the exit. "I've got this. You go on ahead and make sure the way is clear."

"My hero," Beverly says, pretending to swoon as she gives Una's bicep a playful squeeze. She grins as she jetés across the room to retrieve her shoes and then blows Una a kiss before ducking cautiously into the hall.

Una shakes her head and smiles as she follows Beverly out of the room, moving a little more slowly due to the heavy boxes. There are times when she misses being in Starfleet… but watching Beverly pull off a heist in such a decidedly un-Starfleet manner is definitely not one of those times.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Across The Darkened Room {6}

Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader || Modern AU Summary: You comfort Aemond in the aftermath of what you learned of his past and ease the burden of his conscience. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, nudity, mentions of blood, emotional trauma WC: 2.4k

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven ||

After you drove Aemond back to his home, he had taken your hand and silently asked you to stay the night. You could not abandon him, especially when you looked in his eye and saw a shadow of the man you had come to know. So you had followed him to bed and wrapped him in your arms. 

You tried to stay awake until Aemond was asleep but you were drained both physically and emotionally from the long evening. You imagined he was feeling the same if the dark circles that ringed his eyes were anything to attest to. Exhaustion won as you drifted off half reclined upon a pile of pillows with Aemond’s head on your chest and his moonlit hair cascading over your skin. 

Watery grey light seeped through the curtains when you woke and reached for your phone. A groan worked its way up your throat as you realised it had only been an hour since you had crawled into bed. You rolled over in search of Aemond’s warmth only to find his side of the bed empty and cold.

The night air was cold but the underfloor heating was warm against the soles of your feet as you wrapped the sheet around you and went in search of him. The hall was dark when you stepped out of his bedroom but a slither of light escaped beneath a door at the far end. Your brows pinched at the sound of a violin drifting down the hallway, a slow sorrowful melody that was nothing like the pieces he had used to enhance your senses in the playroom. 

Aemond had enjoyed introducing you to the works of Vivaldi and Bach, though he preferred the dramatic build and crescendo of Vivaldi’s compositions more. You hadn’t listened to enough of the music to know what it was he was playing, or if it was even one of theirs at all, and after a moment you reached for the door.

You turned the handle and the music grew louder as you pushed the door open. 

Soft moonlight glowed through the huge pane of glass that filled one wall and Aemond was bathed in the light as he faced the turbulent sea beyond. The muscles of his back were tensed with ridges and valleys that shifted with each small movement and your eyes followed them until they disappeared into a pair of loose sweatpants that hung low on his hips. 

Aemond’s back arched as another long note drew out and then fell silent, the violin and bow falling to his sides limply as he dropped his head. His face was hidden from your view as his hair swung forward like curtains ending his performance and you froze, unsure of how he would feel about you seeing the vulnerable state you had not been invited to witness.

Your thoughts were erased as red drops of blood fell from the steel violin strings and you rushed forward at the muted thuds of them hitting the whitewashed floorboards. You carefully pulled the violin from his tight grasp and saw the four clean slices to the tips of his fingers, blood welling at each of them. 

Aemond didn’t say a word, he didn’t even seem to notice you as he stared at the whitecap waters outside.

You carefully placed the violin into the case that was open on a table before unhooking his fingers from the bow and laying it beside the violin. Aemond had not moved as he stared at the glass and you realised he was focused on his reflection, not the sea beyond. 

“Aemond,” you murmured softly as you took his bleeding hand and wrapped the sheet around it, “where is your first aid kit? I need to take care of you.”

His chest rumbled with a ‘hmmm’ and he slowly reached for your face with his unhurt hand until he cradled your cheek. “I’m meant to take care of you.”

“We can take care of each other.” His hand fell away at your words and he dropped his forehead to yours as he spoke a language you didn’t understand. “The first aid kit?”

Stirred from his murmuring, he blinked twice before he looked at the concern on your face and answered, “Garage.”

You were grateful it was somewhere you knew because you hadn’t spent a huge amount of time learning the maze of halls and rooms inside his mansion. But getting to the garage was familiar and he let you lead the way, gently tugging his hand when his steps faltered and silently encouraging him to keep going. 

The corner of the white sheet that was wrapped around his fingers was stained red and still spreading that you started to fear that he might need stitches, something that was beyond your capabilities. There was an audible sigh of relief when you opened the door to the garage and flicked the light on to the immense space. 

“Where is it, Aemond?”

The sheet fell away from your body as he moved ahead and wove through the lines of cars that filled the room, the forgotten material dragging across the floor behind him. Cool air washed over your skin and you shivered at the loss of warmth before rushing to catch up with him.

He pressed his palm to a panel on the wall and a door you hadn’t noticed before slid silently open and revealed a workshop of some sort. The walls and bench space were filled with tools and car parts but Aemond ignored them all as he pulled a red box out from beneath one bench, a white cross covering the lid. 

“I didn’t know you could work on cars,” I admitted as I took the box and pondered what car was hidden beneath the tarpaulin in the centre of the room.

“I don’t, not really,” he uttered tiredly as he leant against the bench and stared at the cover. “There’s just one car.” 

The silence was heavy but you ignored it as you opened the box and grabbed a few alcohol wipes to disinfect the cuts before wrapping a bandage around each finger. The cuts weren’t as deep as you had thought and the bleeding was already slowing but his sheet was absolutely ruined and you dumped it straight in the trash can.

You clicked the lid shut and pushed it back under the bench while Aemond continued to stare at the hidden car. Your curiosity grew with the passing moments but you wouldn’t dare ask because if your gut was right then what was hidden caused Aemond an unimaginable amount of pain.

“It’s a Bugatti,” Aemond said suddenly as he pushed off from the bench and tore the tarpaulin away. You didn’t know a lot about cars but from the size of it you knew it must have had a hugely powerful engine and the carbon grey panels were sleek and shiny. At least on one side.

You gasped as you walked around the car and found the driver's side was mangled and torn. “Is this…?”

Aemond nodded, confirming your fear, as he ran his bandaged fingers over the badge at the back and you joined him so you could read the name of the car, Vhagar. “Top of the line supercar - the only one in the world.”

His foot lashed out and he kicked the personalised number plate that read AEMOND-1-I before he turned away like it hurt him too much to look at it any longer. You wished you could take the ache away from him and the weight that the accident bore on his soul but all you could offer was an embrace as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“You don’t have to answer this, but I have to ask,” you said as you peered up from where your cheek rested on his chest. “Why do you keep it?”

“I can’t get rid of it.” He whispered as he returned the embrace and wrapped his arms around you. “I need to remember. I need the reminder of what happens when I let my anger get the better of me, of when I lose control, and why I can never let it happen again.”

“Oh Aemond,” you sniffled as tears pricked your eyes and tightened your hold on him. “I wish you could see just how much you don’t need this.”

He broke the embrace first so he could cover the car over once more before taking your hand and leading you back to his room.

The dark seemed too harsh for what had transpired two floors below and you opened the curtains wide so that the moonlight eased the shadows. The seas were still rough but the sounds of their crashing upon the shore were ambient in the background as you lay tucked in Aemond’s arms, your head resting on his shoulder. 

“Thank you for sharing your past with me, I know it mustn’t have been easy.”

Aemond’s fingers danced along your spine soothingly as he stared at the sea. “No one outside of our family knows what really happened. I thought I would never be able to talk about it, or that if I did I would be deemed a monster. But, you’re unlike anyone I have ever met, Sweeetpea, I knew you were different from the moment I laid my eye on you. I can be myself with you, without judgement. You make me feel safe.”

“I’m no therapist, but I think you need to talk about it more. It is obvious this has been weighing heavily on your shoulders for years but it was an accident, Aemond.” You stroked the soft hairs on his chest and followed the silver trail to his abs. “Whenever you are ready I will listen, without judgement, because you are safe with me.”

–

It was like deja vu waking up to find Aemond’s side of the bed empty but this time you could hear his voice carrying on the warm breeze that drifted in from the balcony. He looked like a god with his hair billowing behind him and those sweatpants hanging so dangerously low on his hips. You could happily watch him doing any mundane activity and it would still make your heart beat out of your chest. 

He noticed you were awake as he paced back across the balcony and an immediate smile brightened his face before he made his goodbyes and ended the phone call. 

“Morning, Sweetpea,” he greeted with a kiss as he caged you in his arms. 

“You look…” you weren’t sure what the exact word was that you were looking for, only that he looked lighter than he did the night before, “rested.” 

His lips pulled into a smile and he dipped his head shyly as he murmured, “I feel better than I have in a long time.” The doorbell suddenly rang and the smile quickly faded as he hesitantly pulled back to sit up and run his hand through his hair. “Can you come with me to get that?”

“Of course.”

You were a little confused as you quickly threw on some clothes that were kept in Aemond’s wardrobe and followed him down the stairs to the front door. Your confusion only grew when he opened it and led one of the two strangers to the garage before hitting the remote to open the doors up. 

“You sure about this, sir?” the man with a clipboard and pen asked as he handed them over to Aemond.

Aemond looked at you and took a deep breath before signing his name at the bottom of the form and hanging it back. “Absolutely, I don’t need it anymore.”

A loud beeping came from a truck that was parked on the driveway and the other man who had been at the door started to reverse it up to the garage and unravel a large winch. “What a waste,” he muttered under his breath as he connected it to the back of the Bugatti Vhagar and began towing the supercar onto the flat back of the tow truck.

“Aemond,” you gasped, too stunned to continue as he stepped up behind you and curled his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I didn’t sleep last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said and you were right.” His lips teased your nape with gentle kisses as he made his way to your other ear. “I don’t need the car to remind me to stay in control. I have you and I never want to lose you or scare you away. Everytime I look into your eyes it will serve as a reminder to be better, because I never want to see you flinch from me again.”

In all honesty you had forgotten the rough sex in the wine cellar and you couldn’t even feel the bruises that probably spotted your back but you recalled how for a moment he had lost himself. It was only a moment but for him it was another misstep on the narrow path he set for himself. 

You turned in his arms and tilted your head in contemplation as you enjoyed the sharp angles of his jawline and the high cheekbones that would make a model envious. “Was it my favourite sexcapade? No, it doesn’t even make the top ten. But did I say dracarys? No, Aemond, because it wasn’t more than I could handle. You controlled yourself and I know that if I said dracarys you would have stopped in an instant because I trust you. I. Trust. You.”

His shuddering breath of relief was drowned out by the truck starting again and you turned to see the grey beast shimmering in the sunlight as it was taken away. 

When it disappeared from sight the gates swung closed and Aemond led you back inside to the central staircase. You stepped up but you hand caught and you frowned as Aemond stood at the stairs that led down.

“You haven’t slept all night, you should go to bed,” you said as you looked up the pillar to where the master bedroom awaited.

“Oh, Sweetpea,” he said with a dark chuckle that ignited fire in your veins, “it’s cute when you think you can give me orders.”

A shiver rolled down your spine with a pleasant tingle and your chin dipped in obedience before you followed him down the stairs to the playroom that had been built in the basement. He stopped at the door with his key in hand and looked over his shoulder to see you waiting meekly with your hands at your side completely at ease with him as he took control once again.

He nodded to himself after a moment, knowing you would be his compass and guide him back if he were to get lost. “I trust you too.”

Click here for part seven.

Taglist: @scxrletwitches , @shelbyteller , @girl-with-an-orange-cat , @crispmarshmallow , @itsemy01 , @boofy1998 , @wondergal2001 , @percyjacksonspeen , @ebaylee422 , @namoreno , @the-jess-life , @undeniableadrenaline , @1950schick , @dothrckis , @julczimozart , @sophiexoxsblog , @liathelioness , @natashaxhellenic , @caramelcandescence , @wooya1224 , @eralen , @thewew , @meggiemay82 , @leahjean , @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @lj127 , @arcielee , @iiamthehybrid , @joliettes , @ohitsthemaster , @lilostif16 , @malfoytargaryen

[gblogg]

could you write another ezme and rose fic . Maybe one of them could have appendicitis and the other just thinks they have a bad stomachache.

Sorry this took so long, lovely! I hope it is what you asked for, too. This is a little shorter than I expected, so there will obviously be multiple parts.

The late afternoon sunlight poured through the curtains in the small living room, reflecting on the hardwood floor. Rose was curled up on the plush couch, her fingers absently twirling a strand of her auburn hair as she scrolled through her phone. The soft clicks of her nails punctuated the peaceful atmosphere of the apartment they shared.

In the corner of the room, Ezme was seated, her feet tucked beneath her on the cushy armchair. She had a thick book splayed open on her lap, but her eyes were barely glancing at the lines of text. Instead, she was focused on the gnawing discomfort in her abdomen, a sensation she had dismissed for a few days now, attributing it to nothing more than a passing stomach ache.

Ezme had always been stubborn; that much Rose knew all too well. With her long, wavy hair and fierce green eyes, she could be an impenetrable force. Rose adored everything about her—her determined spirit, her quick wit, how she supposedly ‘never needed help’. The  woman could hardly resist smiling at her girlfriend, who leaned back and threw her head back dramatically, mock-huffing over her book.

"Ezme, can you just put the book down for a second and let me give you a massage?" Rose suggested, hoping to coax her into some semblance of comfort. 

With a feigned sigh, Ezme turned toward her and flashed a dismissive wave of her hand, her features twisted into a playful scowl. “No way, baby. I’m fine. Just a little tummy ache, that’s all.” She perked her lips in a pout, her attempt at appearing carefree and unbothered, not fully convincing Rose. 

“Tummy ache? Since yesterday?” Rose raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto her lips. “Mon petit dragon, I don’t think that’s normal, especially for you,” she teased, her lilting accent wrapping around the words like a warm embrace. 

Ezme snorted and rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her face. “Whatever you say,” she responded, attempting to brush off her discomfort. She managed a burp, and both of them dissolved into laughter, the sound brightening the sleepy room. 

But soon, Ezme’s laughter faded. Her hand drifted to her stomach, fingers pressing tentatively against the fabric of her shirt. The pressure intensified, tightening like a band around her midsection, and she bit her lip in discomfort. 

“Seriously, Ez, I think you need to see a doctor,” Rose pressed, concern pooling in her blue eyes. 

“I’m not going to a doctor for a stupid stomach ache!” Ezme shot back, her voice rising slightly. “You worry too much, babe.”

Rose let out a gentle sigh, her heart aching at the stubbornness swirling before her. “And you don’t worry enough. That’s called balance, ma chérie.” 

Ezme huffed again and sat up, the movement causing another wave of discomfort to wash over her. “I’m fine, Rose. Really,” she insisted, though the strain in her voice was recognisable. 

“Are you?” Rose questioned softly, determination etching her voice. The concern deepened within her chest, squeezing tighter as she moved to sit on the edge of the couch, half-turned towards her girlfriend, continuing to gauge her. 

And just when she thought Ezme might relent, the moment spiralled. She doubled over, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. Rose’s heart raced, a panic gripping her as she reached out instinctively to touch her shoulder.

“Ezme, hey—” 

With her head bowed, Ezme groaned softly, sweeping her hands over her abdomen. “I just need… a minute,” she panted, struggling to catch her breath. 

But Rose was having none of it. She gently coaxed Ezme’s arms until they were wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as she nestled her chin atop her head. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. T’es ma championne, but sometimes you need to lean on someone else.” 

Ezme shifted slightly, the warmth of Rose burrowing deep into her bones. Despite her façade of strength, she could feel the edges of vulnerability creep in, but she wasn't ready to admit it. “I’m fine,” she repeated, yet her stomach betrayed her with a sudden gurgle loud enough to make both of them jump. 

Rose laughed softly but then quickly became serious again as Ezme’s eyes widened in discomfort. “What if it’s really bad?” Her tone was almost pleading. 

But Ezme shook her head, stubbornness clashing against her pain. “I said I’m fine. Stop overreacting, Rose. You sound like a mother,” she snapped, though it was more of a reflex than a true accusation. 

“Mother or not, I don’t like seeing you like this..” Rose’s voice was calm, a soothing balm to Ezme’s  doubts. 

But when Ezme next stood to prove her point, the pain swelled like a tidal wave, crashing through her resolve. “No—no I can’t—” Before she could finish her sentence, she suddenly doubled over, this time a harsh retch escaping her. 

Rose reached out instinctively, panic overtaking her as she grasped Ezme’s shoulders, guiding her towards the small bathroom just off the living room. “Sweetheart, come on, you need to—”

Just as they reached the door, Ezme lost her battle against the nausea, pulling away from Rose in a desperate attempt to make it to the toilet. She slumped to her knees, the wave of pain forcing a sob from her lips as she grasped the cool porcelain, feeling helpless.

“Ezme!” Rose cried out, feeling utterly useless as she hovered nearby, not quite knowing what to do.

“I don’t like this… I- It hurts” Ezme gasped, the obstinate warrior in her decreasing. 

Rose knelt beside her, brushing the hair away from Ezme’s pale face, placing a kiss to her forehead. “I know, I know, ma chérie. I just want to help you. Please let me.” 

Ezme gasped for breath, her stubbornness crumbling under the weight of pain. “Okay… okay, I’ll go…” she murmured through gritted teeth. 

But Rose shook her head, holding onto her girlfriend tighter, determined to not let go. “You’re going to be okay, Ez. I’m right here,” she whispered, her heart aching as she simply cradled her girlfriend, breathing through the unfolding chaos together.

[flyingwargle]

spoilers for archon quest act i: prelude of blancheur and noirceur

the traveler leaves with heavy footsteps. paimon chirps a hesitant farewell before following, and lynette gives a small wave. she glances at her brother, whose head is bowed, shoulders slumped, breaths uneven. “lyney?”

he pivots and walks away. lynette walks behind him. one, two, three, four. his fifth step falters, his sixth step reduces him to his knees. he presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, shuddering as he releases a long exhale. his words tremble as he murmurs, “i didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”

“i know.”

“i never wanted the traveler to find out.”

“i know.” she rests her hand on his shoulder. his body shakes beneath her touch. once the curtain has fallen and the audience has left, that’s when his mask comes off and unveils the anxiety and fear accumulated beneath the spotlight. “lady furina did it for dramatic effect. that’s all.”

“that’s what angers me the most. it…it had no relevance whatsoever, and yet…” his anger simmers like a stew left on the stove for a moment too long. the longer it remains, the more ruined it becomes. “no one needed to know, and now they do. i imagine there’ll be a swarm of reporters waiting for us.”

and he’s too exhausted to handle them. lynette, despite her stoic coldness, is also on the same tightrope of poise and fatigue, but she must remain level for both their sakes. “we’ll stay here until they leave. you won’t be able to get up, anyway.”

“ah…sorry…” it’s happened before. during a high-profile operation, their plans had derailed, and it was only thanks to his quick wit that allowed all of them to escape alive. once the adrenaline had receded, he fell ill to a severe fever.

it’s been a long time since that happened.

they stay on the floor, wrapped in one another’s silence, hidden in the shadows. the audience doesn’t notice them as they exit the opera house, occupied with gossip, dramatic reenactments, and their own speculation. why did lyney go through the vent? who did the thief steal the ticket from? why was the number machine rigged for that particular seat? how did the tank drop from the ceiling?

could the other young women who disappeared also dissolved into water?

lynette flattens her ears. she refuses to listen further.

finally, when all seems to have settled down, footsteps echo in the dust. a shadow approaches nearer and nearer, until they tower over them. “monsieur lyney. mademoiselle lynette.”

“monsieur neuvillette.” lynette greets him when her brother doesn’t.

“does your brother require medical attention?”

“no need to be concerned,” he chirps, head turned away, hands pressed together to mitigate their shaking. his upbeat tone is a little too sunny. “i’ll be fine.”

neuvillette glances at lynette, who gives an unhelpful shrug. he says, “i have asked for a few gardes to escort you home. there are a few journalists outside waiting for you, but am i correct to assume that you wish to leave, undisturbed?”

lyney finally raises his head, words strained through his twisted smile. “you are correct, as expected of the chief justice. if you can spare the manpower, we’d like to leave as soon as we can.”

“i’ll direct them to the main entrance. please meet them there, once you’re capable of doing so.”

“noted.”

he gives a slight bow his head, turns his heel. neither twin sees his expression, only hears an echo of hollow remorse when he says, “i apologize for what furina revealed. it was unnecessary for the trial.”

there is no reply. he walks away, words lost to the echoes of his footsteps. “your shows are a source of pride and joy for our people. please remember that.”

they don’t move, waiting until the air has stilled before releasing their breaths. lynette catches her brother’s eye and offers him her hand. “shall we?” it takes a few attempts, but he eventually pulls himself up, and she guides him to the main entrance. he doesn’t let go.

their entourage waits for them, a trio of uniformed men. a handful remain onstage to inspect the pool of water left behind, while the rest are suppressing the crowd outside. the twins are flanked on either side as they exit, the night breeze caressing their faces. lynette blinks stars away as camera flashes invade her vision, voices ricocheting around them. she hears their names spoken with contempt, admiration, interest. hands reach out. gardes deflect them, but when a few lay too close to her, she pulls away. lyney stays huddled by her side, even on the aquabus.

it’s passed midnight when they return home. lynette thanks the gardes before pulling open the front door wide enough for them to slip inside, locking it behind them. she has barely caught her breath when a quiet whisper makes her jump. “lyney? lynette?”

freminet emerges from the shadows. lyney releases her hand and looks up. his eyes are too wide, smile too wide. “freminet! how nice of you to wait for us.”

“you don’t have to do that.” their youngest brother shakes his head. “you don’t have to pretend.”

lynette nods in agreement. his mask has unraveled too much at this point. lyney falls quiet, stumbles passed them to sink onto the couch. they flank him. he takes his hat off. “what did you hear?”

“there was an accident, but it became a murder. the traveler helped prove your innocence.” freminet hugs his penguin companion closer. “they also said…you and lynette are fatui.”

silence. lyney lowers his head. “i’m sorry.” his siblings don’t answer. they know that his words aren’t meant for them. “it wasn’t meant to happen.”

“whether it did or not, we can’t do anything about it,” lynette says softly. “all we can do is keep doing what we’ve been doing. the traveler will see that we mean no harm, soon enough.”

“blood is already on our hands, lynette. but…” he straightens. his makeup is smudged, expression haunted with exhaustion. and yet, fire burns in his eyes. “we’ll make up for it. i promise we will.”

“the rest of us are behind you,” freminet murmurs. “we’re just as guilty as you are.”

they rest, huddled together in the darkness, buried beneath the weight of their sins, carrying the burden of retribution on their shoulders.

[giolovesyousm]

imagine: dead poets society as a sitcom, and the main couple is knarlie, who ofc argue for every little thing as they're an old married couple; starring: @thebisexual-and-thedamned and me

charlie in suit and tie: "HONEYY I'M HOOME WHAT WE HAVE FOR DINNER??"

knox in a pink apron: "CHARLIE YOURE LATE, OH YOUVE BEEN KEEPING ME WAITING FOR HALF AN HOUR. IVE MADE THIS HOT AND READY MEAL FOR YOU AND YOU CANT TELL ME WHERE YOUVE BEEN!!"

charlie: "OHH COME ON YOU'RE ALWAYS STRESSING ME, I WAS MEETING SOME OLD FRIENDS DON'T BE SO DRAMATIC XANAX"

knox: "OH BUT YOU MADE ME WORRIED SICK AND I DONT EVEN GET A THANK YOU FOR WORKING SO HARD AROUND HERE"

charlie: "THANK YOU, YOU'RE HAPPY NOW? THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED RIGHT? NOW GIVE ME MY MEAL AND LEAVE ME ALONE FOR GODSAKE"

knox: "OH YOURE SO UNGRATEFUL, YOU CANT EVEN THANK ME TO NOT SPITE ME. WHEN IM DEAD DONT EXPECT A HOT MEAL MADE FOR YOU OUT OF THIN AIR BC I PUT MY LOVE AND TIME IN IT - FOR YOU"

charlie: "OKOK CAN WE JUST STOP THIS, YOU'RE OBVIOUSLY OVER REACTING TO THIS, YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN RIGHT NOW. I SAID 'THANK YOU' WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY MORE?"

knox: "OF COURSE YOURE PULLING THE OVERREACTING CARD ON ME, WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO CALL ME CRAZY NEXT??"

charlie: "IF THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT THEN YES YOU'RE CRAZY.

*in comes cameron in the scene from the kitchen* "WILL YOU GUYS SHUT UP AND LET ME HAVE MY ICE CREAM IN PEACE"

charlie: "CAMERON GET OUT I'M ALREADY NERVOUS, I DON'T NEED YOU TO MAKE THIS WORSE."

*insert laugh track and then charlie giving cameron a death stare* "DONT YOU PUSH ME."

*in comes neil and more clapping BC ITS NEIL* "hey, are you fighting again?"

*charlie and knox together still yelling* "NO WE'RE NOT."

*neil holds both his hands up and looks at cameron* "cmon cam, they’re gonna be at it all night" *insert laugh track*

*charlie and knox admire how neil and cameron get along before going back to screaming at each other*

*bow and the curtain closes, peace ✌️*

[oddcryptidwrites]

Knight of Dawn: Chapter 15 [NYTF]

After hours of hair, makeup, dress, and whatever else, they were ready for the Coronation Social with ten minutes to spare. Hansel had turned them into someone completely different. Their suit was one they'd worn before, but Hansel had added gorgeous black embroidery along the lapels and the cuffs. They ran their bare fingers along the flowers and leaves, admiring the care he'd taken.

The elevator doors, opened, and they looked up, tugging on their black gloves

“Your Majesty.” Grady greeted them with a salute as the doors to the service elevator opened.

They rolled their eyes, their voice drawling as they responded, stepping into the elevator with her, “Commander Yensey.”

She wore her formal dress uniform, accompanied with the highest heels they had ever seen her wear, a full face of makeup, and dramatic silver jewelry for all her piercings. Her hair, which she usually wore in an afro, was pulled back into several braids, tipped with pink and decorated with silver charms and cuffs. Grady always looked pretty to them, but this was a different kind of pretty.

Piers hadn’t been expecting it, and it rendered them speechless, although they’d never let her know that.

The elevator slowed as it reached the ground floor, and the doors slid open. Piers offered their arm to Grady, and she swatted their arm away playfully, stepping out into the hallway, then through a service door nearby. They followed the noise of her heels clicking on the floor. The two made their way to the room behind the curtains, leading to the large stage. Beyond, hundreds of people would be drinking and socializing, two things Grady was good at, not them.

“Ready?” Grady asked, and they nodded.

She pulled the curtain back enough for them to step through, before following behind. The music quieted, and everyone’s gaze followed them as they came to the edge of the stage.

“Welcome one, welcome all, to the State of Georgia…” In their loudest voice, amplified by the acoustics of the room, they began to recite the brief speech they prepared. As they finished, a round of applause erupted through the room, before it settled back into the way it had been. Music droned on and on in the background. An endless stream of people introduced themselves to Piers, a mix of government officials from various Zones and States and business owners and socialites. Piers hadn’t had time to do more research, and had no clue who most of the people they were being introduced to were, besides the Zone leaders. Quickly, they grew drowsy from boredom and lack of sleep, having to forcibly straighten themself as the latest person stepped away. Looking out on the endless sea of people, they wished it would end so they could go to bed and cry their emotions out.

Then, at the end of the line, a familiar face emerged from the crowd. The rat nest of his long dark hair had been meticulously pinned back in a simple updo, turning him into a completely different person. They wore makeup that wasn’t smudged and messy, but delicately applied and perfectly placed. But that suit, it was the exact same one he’d shown Piers, the one made out of the red velvet.

Lennox.

Head level and shoulders back, he stepped up onto the platform with confidence, not bowing or giving honor first. In their peripheral, Grady’s hand drifted slightly to where her gun was stowed, but Piers gently put a hand over hers, calming her.

“Your Majesty.” He finally bowed, hand on his chest, before speaking again, “I’m Takeo Bergeron, a diplomat from Louisiana. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He lied about his name, but they were certain who it was.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Bergeron. I feel like we’ve met before, perhaps? Would you care for a drink?” 

His eyes, usually telling all, were void of emotion except for a piercing focus. He did not recognize them, but Piers wouldn’t even recognize themself in makeup. “Of course Your Majesty. I’d be honored.” 

Grady stepped down from the stage, following them, but they brushed her off. “Stay here. I’ll call you if I need anything.”

 Piers slipped through the crowd, and he kept close behind. This was Lennox. They would never hurt them, but Piers had to let them know who they were. Partygoers, from barely adults to the elderly, pressed around them both as they made their way to the side of the room, where the tables sat ever-full of champagne and snacks. They grabbed two flutes of champagne from the table as they slipped into the dark outskirts of the room, outside the crowd. Handing him a glass, they took a spot, leaning against the wall. Thanking them, Lennox began to drink the champagne, while Piers just held theirs, staring out into the crowd.

“Big crowd huh? How does it feel to be out here?”

Glass shattered by their ear and they looked at Lennox. The sharp glass of the broken stem suddenly pressed against their throat, threatening to break skin.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at but I don’t know you.” He snapped, but they steadied themself, taking a pretend-casual sip of their champagne, like nothing was wrong.

“You don’t scare me, Lennox.”

His facade cracked, just a little, and he faltered in fear, “My name is Alex-”

“-Lennox. You live in the old church, out on old-85.” Piers interrupted them, and he dropped his hand, confused and a little dazed. “If you really wanted to kill me, you would have already put that stem through my jugular already. Or that knife.”

“It-it’s you?” His voice shook with fear, and he finally dropped his makeshift weapon. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Yeah. It’s me.”

At that, Lennox broke down crying, hugging them. They patted his back shushing them, as he dug his fingers into their jacket, holding on like they were the only thing keeping him afloat.

“I’m so sorry… Didn’t know it was you. I didn’t want to hurt you.” Lennox managed to choke out as they pulled away from Piers, wiping their eyes.

“I don’t even recognize myself like this. Are you safe?”

He looked over his shoulder, scanning the crowd, “For now, yes, but as soon as Lou figures out, she’s gonna…He’s coming after you. I don’t know anything else; the why or the when. I’m gonna play my cards the best I can and try to figure it out…”

Piers shushed them, “Lennox, I’m not asking you to be my knight in shining armor. I got people like Grady and the Johnson brothers here to protect me. You keep yourself safe above all else. I’ll be fine.” They tried to hug him again, but he jerked away.

“I’ve got to go. Please, stay away from the church for a little bit. You’re gonna put yourself in danger.”

Lennox left without another word, disappearing into the mass of bodies. His warning left them more confused than ever. If they had half their wits, Piers would have chased after him, made them stay at the Palace to keep them safe. Yet, Piers stood there like an idiot, as their gut wrenched in fear. Lennox knew who they really were, and they’d put both of them in very real danger.

Still recoiling from the conversation, Piers made their way as inconspicuous as possible back across the ballroom, absentmindedly fiddling with the edge of their mask the entire way. As they approached the slightly raised stage, they spotted a woman in a navy dress, draped over Grady’s shoulder playfully. Both stood just off the platform. She made eye contact with them, then whispered something in Grady’s ear. Grady stiffened, refusing to lose her stoic demeanor, and the woman laughed, pinching her cheek playfully. 

“Might I ask who you are?” They asked sternly, as they approached. Irritation unwittingly crept into their voice. The lady grinned, flashing her perfect teeth. 

“Your Majesty, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jules. One of Grady’s old SpOps buddies.” Jules drawled in a heavy accent. Peeling herself off Grady, she put an arm around Piers’ shoulder, and pressed a kiss on their bare cheek. Piers flushed bright red under their half-mask and Jules laughed, twirling one of their loose strands of hair around her finger, “Oh chère, just a little bit nervous?”

“Enough. Get off of Piers.” Grady finally stepped in and snapped, grabbing Jules’ wrist, peeling her off of Piers.

Jules moped, sticking out her bottom lip, “You’re no fun anymore.”

Grady rolled her eyes, “Unlike you, I was not dishonorably discharged. You’re stoned and you need to go.”

Flashing another perfect smile at Piers, Jules leaned in, whispering something else to Grady, who promptly elbowed her in the stomach. Grady spoke again, this time to Piers. “Jules, she’s insufferable when she’s wasted but sober, she’s one of the most brilliant minds SpOps has ever seen. We worked together briefly when I was still Vice Commander, but got discharged on one of Adele’s paranoid Conspiracy Against the Crown charges. We’ve kept up over the years.”

“I’m a friendly friend, if you get my gist.” Jules raised her eyebrows suggestively, before leaning in towards Grady again, “But seriously chère, at least I don’t drink myself to blackout every night. You need to reel that in before your Captain finds out.” 

Grady clenched her first at her side, holding back, and Piers knew she was so close to losing it.

Suddenly, Jules jerked upright, looking at something on her lens, growing more serious. “While I enjoyed this reunion, I’ve got to head out. Money calls. I’ll message you later chère. Toodles.” Jules pressed one final kiss to their cheek, then Grady’s, before disappearing into the crowd.

“She’s a…personality?” Piers made a face, and Grady finally broke, laughing a little.

“Jules has always been like that. We met at the Academy and she worked under me for a little bit before leaving to do private security. She’s probably here with one of those people from Louisiana.”

Piers paused, recalling their conversation with Dubois only two nights prior. “Her accent. That’s from Louisiana?”

“She and her mom both sound like that. The strongest New Orleans accent I’ve heard post-fall.” Something in Grady’s voice told them she was about to start worrying or moping, so Piers changed the subject.

“Hey, I know what would make tonight more fun.”

“What?”

Piers smiled mischievously, “Make some strong drinks, watch a crappy movie, and sleep.”

At that, Grady laughed, “That doesn’t sound too bad. Ready to make your grand exit?” Together, they slipped out, heading back upstairs the same way they had come in.

NYTF WIP PAGE

Tag List (reply or dm to be added or removed; I pulled from the old tag list + the call post):@author-a-holmes, @soul-write @flowerprose @ceph-the-ghost-writer @theglitchywriterboi @when-wax-wings-melt @thechaoticflowergarden @lyralit @penspiration-writing @samatedeansbroccoli @charlesjosephwrites @italiangothicwriteblr @thetruearchmagos @pineapple-lover-boy @unilightwrites @sanguine-arena @bardic-tales @joshuaorrizonte @blind-the-winds @circa-specturgia @hymnonlips @aloeverawrites @the-stray-storyteller @writeblrsupport @starlit-skys @kyuponstories @guessillcallitart @magic-is-something-we-create @talesofsorrowandofruin @writingonmymind @imslowlydisintegrating @worldsfromhoney

[watermelonsugacry]

there must be no way that the boys didn't notice the obvious crush harry had on 1dbantmate!yn they must have had some clue after seeing them

Oh for sure and the thing was that they would help the two get away with a lot of stuff.

Like there was a period in 2012 where they weren't allowed to sit next to one another during interviews and press because their management didn't want them being distracted by constantly whispering to one another. Not to mention how it gave fuel for people to question and make assumptions about them being a couple.

So like when the band went to go sit on the Chatty Alan couch in their predetermined seating arrangement (Niall, YN, Zayn, Harry, Louis and Liam), Zayn was quick to slide up against Niall right before YN could sit down. He just wraps his arm around the blonde lad, looks up at YN and gives her a sweet smile.

She had no other choice than to sit next to Harry because the show was about to start in merely seconds. Neither one complained from their close position but Zayn sure got an ear full from management.

Or when they were on their 2nd world tour, Harry and YN find themselves squished together in her tour bunk on the tour bus. They're laying down side by side as they show each other funny Vines. But they both get startled when Liam passes their closed curtain, knocking loudly on the wood by their heads and says, "Richard's coming."

In an instant, Harry is rolling and throwing himself out of her bunk bed. He nearly loses his footing once he lands on the ground and scrambles into his own bed across from hers right before their management representative comes in for a surprise check-in.

There was a time on the same tour when the band was on the B-stage and they were answering fan questions where it involved them having to show off their "formal" dancing skills. YN brings her microphone to her lips and sassily asks, "Which one of yeh lads would a dance with yours truly."

All of the boys expect Harry all take a step back, making gross faces at the girl who they see as a little sister. Harry just shrugs and dramatically extends a hand out to her with a bow. She rolls her eyes but that doesn't stop the smile from forming on her face as she takes his hand. With a hand on her waist and hers on his shoulder, they waltz around the small stage while the fans scream their heads off.

When he spins her out and back in, she loses her balance and takes a tumble to the ground, rightfully pulling him down with her. They both laugh at their cliche position of him on top of her and if the fans weren't going absolutely crazy before, they sure are now.

Louis immediately notices Richard's hard expression at the two teenagers from his position off to the side of the stage, so he makes the quick decision to soften the blow. Gripping Liam and Zayn's arms, he leads the two of them to dogpile on their bandmates on the ground. Niall, with his thin self, practically flings himself on top of everyone.

There's plenty more that the boys do for their clueless bandmates:

Niall covers for them when the two are out in the hotel pool in the middle of the night during the On The Road Again tour.

Louis lies to Richard and says he was with YN and Harry when the two got their matching butterfly tattoos.

When the band was having an interview for their fourth album, Zayn discreetly leans forward in his seat to block the camera's view from capturing Harry's fingers playing with the ring on YN's pinky.

Liam goes on a stupid rant during their Made In The A.M. press conference about how nobody is truly perfect when someone asked Harry if their song Perfect was about anyone in particular, looking directly at YN.

SINCE 2010 masterlist

Taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @harringt8ns @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit

[e-munson666]

Something worth Yearning For

++Jamie Campbell Bower x Actress!Reader++

(Your on Fallon With Jamie for the film you both recently stared in, and Jimmy prods at the status of your relationship)

Content/Warnings ⚠️:18+, language, pining, reader and Jamie have major chemistry, just overall fluffy.

🖤Lady Hellfire🖤

You ware pacing around your dressing room, trying hard to combat your nerves when you hear a light knock on the door.

"Are you ready love?" Jamies smooth voice seeps through the door. When you don't respond for a minute or so Jamie clears his throat, "I'm coming in okay?" He announces before slowly pushing open the door.

He sees you nervously wandering around the room, and he sighs. "Hey, you alright?" He asks, stepping in front of you before you walk passed him again.

"Jamie, I am so fucking nervous, this is my first big interview like this, what if I blow it? What if I say something stupid?" You blurt, words leaving your mouth before you can even catch yourself.

Jamie places a large hand on your shoulder, "Sweetheart, you will do just fine, Jimmy is a delight, he will make sure you feel comfortable out there, and I'll be right next to you" he assures, rubbing the place where his hand sat.

He takes a second to really look at you, now that you are in the process of calming down.

You were wearing a sickeningly tight crushed black velvet dress, it slid down your frame like it was glued there, trailing all the way down your body to your ankles. A long wide slit on the left side, revealed your gorgeous legs and sky high Stilettos.

You were covered in Beautiful black jewels, and a small silver skull ring that matched one on Jamies own hand. It was a gift he brought you on the last day you two filmed together, and you'd both kept them on ever since.

He looked up and caught sight of your reflections in the mirror next to him, you looked like a posh couple, and it was making Jamie swoon. You stepped forward and nuzzled your face into his chest. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

You stayed like that way for several minutes, before another knock startled you and you stepped back.

"Its time" says Jamies management, motioning for the two of you to follow. Jamie grabs your hand, offering it a reassuring squeeze before leading you out of the dressing room and towards the hall.

You stand in the prep area, a place right behind the big curtain you walk onto the set from. Jamie was thumbing the back of your hand as you waited nervously to be called on stage.

"Alright folks, up next we have a very special treat for you! Joining us know is the one and only Jamie Campbell Bower, and his beautiful costar Y/N"

The crowd cheers loudly as the two of you walk through the curtain, Jamie still gripping your hand. He leads you over to your seat, you wave and bow before the cheering fans, and next to you Jamie is showing you off, motioning to you before clutching his chest dramatically before sitting next to you.

"Jamie, Y/N!" Jimmy says excitedly as the crowd starts to quiet. "Thank you so much for joining us tonight"

"Thank you so much Jimmy, it's an honor to be here again" Jamie says, leaning over and shaking Jimmys hand. Jamie looks over to you before adding "its also an honor to accompany my lovely costar on her first Fallon appearance" he says, clapping his hands along with the groud, grinning widely in your direction.

"Thank you for inviting me Jimmy, I'm a huge fan" you add, blowing Jimmy a kiss and smiling.

"Well I have to say, the two of you look fabulous, don't they?" Jimmy says, causing another uproar of cheers.

Jamie bows in his seat, taking the compliment graciously. "I only look this good because she's sitting next to me, I can assure you" he chuckles, taking your hand once again.

You blush at Jamies words, giggling into your free hand, "thats quite the compliment coming from you Mr Bower" you chuckle.

For a moment Jamie and you just gaze at each other, forgetting the cameras and everyone in the room.

"I can't help but notice you guys are matching, was this intentional?" Jimmy pokes, noticing the looks between his two guests.

"I wish I could say it was, but it was just a lovely coincidence," Jamie replies, straightening his collar as he spoke.

"No I totally snuck into your dressing room earlier and snooped in your wardrobe actually" you joke, causing everyone in the room to boom with laughter.

"So, Jamie, Y/N" Jimmy starts, leaning onto his desk a little bit and pausing for dramatic affect.

"The fans can't help but notice how close you guys are, and someone sent us in this picture" Jimmy asserts, taking a large note card from his desk and flipping the picture into the camera view.

It was you and Jamie, holding coffees, leaning your heads together, little skull rings on display.

The crowd "oooooooooohhhhhhssss"

"So I have to ask, are you two an item? With all the evidence, it definitely looks like you are, right folks?" Jimmy booms, causing another loud cheer from the audience.

Jamie glances at you, sending a quick wink before turning back to Jimmy

"We are not together" Jamie says, causing the audience to groan in disappointment. "But trust me, I'm trying" Jamie adds cooly, chuckling at response the crowd gave. Jamie squeezed your hand again and you felt your face flush.

"Wow! Am I hearing this right" Jimmy began to say, but the rest of what he said was drowned out as you slipped into your mind.

Your heart was racing, and the words Jamie spoke to the crowd, to the cameras, hummed in your brain on repeat.

"Trust me, I'm trying"

*

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A/N: as always my loves, please interact with this to let me know if you want more of this content. Decided to bust this one out tonight in honor of 260 followers, you are all amazing and you are very very much appreciated.

[athena-writes-i-guess]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Prompt: Having a midnight picnic

You were in your room getting ready for bed when you heard a tapping come from your window, opening your curtains you found your boyfriend, Eddie’s, smiling face on the other end. You opened the window to let him in but he shook his head and stayed outside.

“Hi honey, what are you doing here?” You questioned quietly, it was late and you didn’t want to wake up your parents.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asked with a dimpled smile. You looked down at your sleep shorts and shirt, then at your clock that read 11:17pm.

“Well, I was going to go to bed.” You chuckled. “But I’m guessing you have other ideas?”

“Oh yeah, sweetheart. Get changed, we’re going to be outside.” He said before a slightly concerned look crossed his face. “That is, if you’re okay with that baby?”

You smiled brightly back at him. If only the people that were scared of this absolute sweetheart could see him like this. “Yeah that’s okay with me Eds. Gimme a second.” You said before walking to your closet to pull out some jeans and a shirt and started changing. Eddie sent you some quiet wolf whistles when you were just in your underwear, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at you when you sent him a joking glare.

Once you were done, you crawled out the window and scaled down the side of your house with Eddie’s help. He didn’t let go of your hand until he had got you all the way into the passenger’s seat of his van, a soft, sweet smile on his face as he looked at you before placing a quick kiss on your cheek.

Eddie quickly got in the van and grabbed your hand again once you were on the road, Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears was playing softly on the radio and he was quietly mouthing the words as he drove. You bit your lip to keep the big, goofy smile off your face as you watched him.

He looked at you quickly, noticing you staring, and sent you a smile. “Whatcha looking at sweet thing?” He asked.

“Are you singing Tears for Fears?” You questioned with a large grin.

“Yeah, you like Tears for Fears.” He said matter of factly.

“Yeah, I do. I didn’t think you did.” You chuckled.

“I like this song.” He said with a little shrug of his shoulders.

“Me too, sweet boy.” You said softly, you watched the almost shy smile appear on his face at your words.

You drove for a little while, until you made it to Lover’s Lake. You shot Eddie a confused look as he leaned to the back seat and pulled out a few plastic bags and a blanket. “We’re having a picnic.” He smiled back at you. “Wait, let me get your door.” He said quickly as you went to get out. You chuckled as he scrambled with the items and quickly opened your door, giving you a deep, dramatic bow as he helped you out.

He walked you to the edge of the lake before spreading the blanket out and gesturing for you to sit down. He dug into one of the bags and pulled out a few sandwiches, bags of chips, and your favorite soda. “I also brought some Twinkie’s for dessert.” He smiled as he sat next to you. “But I wanted to show you this.” He said, pointing to the sky.

You looked up and let out a small surprised gasp, your eyes having finally adjusted to the dark. Up above you the dark sky looked almost broken in half as the Milky Way cut across it. Colors of purple and white seemed to swirl amongst the millions of stars you could see. You watched in awe as some stars shot across the sky. “Oh Eddie! There are shooting stars!” You said excitedly, looking at your boyfriend with a beaming smile. “We have to make wishes!”

“I don’t need to make any, sweetheart.” He said with probably the softest look you had ever seen on his face. You felt yourself flush at the implied meaning behind his words.

“I don’t either.” You said confidently, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his lips, completely in love with this sweet man.

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