#why can't i just automatically be in a college why do i have to apply wtf

[pidgefudge]

fuuuuuck now im thinking about college again. shits terrifying can i just not <- guy who cannot in fact "just not"

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (10/10)

The Realization

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: prom is coming and so is the end of a stage in your life. surprises and unexpected conversations take place, the question is, are you able to forgive in order to move on?

word count: 9.7k

previous part • series masterlist

this is not a drill, it's really happening!

first of all, i want to apologize for having left this story aside without finishing it. it wasn't something i decided, the writer's block precisely in this fic made me not try anymore for a while, mostly to clear my mind and my ideas, because i had no idea what to write after chapter nine 💀

so I hope you really forgive me and enjoy the last chapter 🥺 it has been an honor to have given you this little fic, I really enjoyed writing it despite the little mental breakdowns I had haha

and just like my other stories, I keep it in my heart and it will always be here for whenever you want to reread (I will make sure to post it in AO3, don't worry) i'm also thinking of doing a poll about the epilogue where you guys will decide if you want one or prefer this ending. let me know after you finish reading the chapter 🤗

enjoy and I look forward to your comments!

It still all feels like a bad dream that you can't wake up from. An unwanted dream. A nightmare.

And every time a new day comes, you feel like a human being who does everything in automatic mode, not because you really want to.

In front of your dad you must pretend that everything is fine, but as soon as you leave home and get to school, you feel a huge weight and a sadness that nothing and no one can take away from you.

You feel the stares of some people on you, if not all of them. But the truth is that you feel so emotionally drained that you don't even pay attention to them.

Many would say that not being accepted to a college doesn't mean it's the end of the world. Nor does it mean that your chances are over because there is still too much time to be able to do everything you want.

And you accept that they are right. All is not lost because you didn't get accepted.

When you were rejected the first time when you applied in conjunction with the scholarship, disillusionment sets in. There is disappointment in yourself for not being enough and there is this question that constantly floats in your mind; why others do and I don't? Why am I not worthy of the same fate as them?

Maybe it's age, but it's inevitable to feel that rejection and failure after having so many plans and having in mind the idea of making your dad proud by telling him that you've been accepted to college.

And not just any college, but Citadel.

But so far, you haven't had the courage to tell him instead that you won't go to any college. You just can't. You don't know what exactly you'll tell him and you don't want to face it yet. You don't want to see his disappointed face so you need more time.

So instead of dreams and aspirations, as well as preparing to live a college life, you prepare and focus on getting a job. You don't see employment as a bad thing either. You just wish you didn't have to focus on it right now.

You haven't talked to Aemond either. You haven't even seen him.

You're in some classes together. But you barely pay attention. Even though you used to notice his presence before and now, unconsciously, you ignore it. Now your mind is too busy with your worries.

It's like being in a disconnect. You are just there, existing. But you barely talk, barely react and barely do. You just want classes to end soon so you can go home.

Of course, he hasn't stopped trying.

He wants to talk to you, but you won't let him. You just don't want to have anything to do with him anymore. Even though you feel that emptiness he has left, you immediately force yourself not to think about it.

It's like pain and confusion mixed together, but your pride and that same pain makes you prefer to stay away.

You don't even care anymore what people say about him and you. It's obvious that the two of you are no longer in a 'relationship'. No one knows what happened and neither one of you is clarifying anything.

Which you are grateful for, so as not to feed the topic in the whole school.

Meanwhile, Alysanne and Cregan are almost always around you, trying to cheer you up and make you endure school better. You couldn't be more grateful for both of them either.

"So what are your plans for the weekend?"

Alysanne asks as the three of you are sitting on a bench in the outside courtyard. On the bench where you and Aemond made the fake relationship contract, precisely. But you try not to focus on that as the three of you eat lunch.

"We're going to the movies, did you forget already?" asks Cregan, confused.

"Huh? This weekend?"

"You forgot," he assures her.

"I didn't forget!" she lies, nervous.

"We agreed to go on Saturday. To the ten o'clock function for the horror movie."

Oh yes, the two of them are dating. Just as you and Aemond have 'broken up', so you try not to feel more distressed about it.

"Do you want to come, Y/N?"

You raise your gaze to Alysanne, confused, who gives you a smile.

"It's a date, isn't it? Just the two of you."

"We'll have more dates," she makes a nonchalant gesture.

Poor Cregan.

"Besides, it would do you good to clear your head a bit. So, what better than going to the movies? Right, Cregan?"

"Yeah, it'll do you good," he nods.

"No, thank you," you say softly, "I don't want to interfere with your dates. Besides, I'm not in the mood to go out. I'd rather stay home."

"You're not going to interfere with anything. Besides, you've stayed home enough days," she reproaches you, "Come on. Even one night. We'll have a great time."

"If you don't want to go to the movies, we can go somewhere else," Cregan proposes.

You grimace slightly.

"No, thank you. I..." you sigh, "I really appreciate it, guys. But I'd rather stay home."

Staying home to look for a proper job and plan to tell your dad you won't be going to college, like you've been doing for the past few days.

"Are you sure?" Alysanne looks at you not entirely convinced.

"Yeah," you shrug, "Don't worry about me."

"Of course I worry about you."

"You should focus on your date," you say as you give Cregan a meaningful look.

"Totally," Cregan nods, "In fact, she'll plan the next date."

"What?" she looks at him in horror.

"What you heard."

"And why me?"

"Because I always do."

Your talk with them doesn't last long as soon the bell rings and they head off to their respective classes, except for you, who has a free hour.

So you stand on the bench alone, just looking outside and nothing else, enjoying your lunch unhurriedly and in peace and quiet.

You let out a long breath and distract yourself for a few moments in your social networks, watching as some people post their reactions from when they were accepted to colleges. Everyone screams, smiles and cries of happiness with their families.

Except for others who quietly show how they were not accepted. But they open more emails and get accepted to other colleges.

You wish you were part of them.

You close those apps and go to Tiktok to distract yourself for a while by watching funny videos or storytimes.

When suddenly, you hear footsteps approaching behind you, which catches your attention. You turn your head, peeking over your shoulder and then you see him, Aemond.

He stops as soon as your eyes look directly into his, as if you've caught him in the act of robbery. Which reveals how very cautious he was being to approach and not scare you.

You see the uncertainty in his gaze, the insecurity and the wariness all at the same time. Which is rare for him, as he doesn't allow himself to look so vulnerable. But you understand why he's this way with you.

First you think about getting up and leaving him with the word in his mouth, like you've been doing lately. But for some reason, it's like finally your mind resigns and your body will force you to stay where you're sitting. And you don't even know why.

Or maybe it's because he's begging you with his gaze not to leave and listen to what he has to say after so many weeks.

Inevitably your nerves invade you and neither he nor you say anything for a few long seconds. He just stands still, as if testing the waters, waiting to see if you will move away from him again attentively.

Then he swallows hard and watches you with a sad but hopeful expression.

“Can I come closer?”

You press your lips together, think about it for a few seconds and finally give him a barely visible nod.

You turn your gaze to the front and begin to put your tupper with food in your backpack. While at the same time Aemond approaches you, cautious but firm. And surprised that you are allowing him to do this.

You let out a long breath and bring a hand to your hair, nervous, not knowing why.

Then he steps in front of you and only at that moment, you realize he has a folder in his hand. A folder that he sets down on the table in front of you, with smooth, cautious movements.

“I just came to drop this off for you. Nothing else.”

You raise your gaze to look at it confused for a moment, then look back down at the folder in front of you.

“It's the paperwork you need to submit to finalize the scholarship process,” he says softly, “Classes start in two months and by now you should have received an email from the university with all the information as an incoming student.”

Wait, what?

Your mind immediately questions, as you frown more and feel your heart start to beat too fast.

“What are you talking about?” you ask in a low murmur, not understanding.

And Aemond lets out a long breath.

“I'm keeping my promise.”

His words echo steadily in your mind.

And you dare to raise your gaze to him again, confused, serious and incredulous. And what he does is lower his gaze, sorrowful and unsure. However… he is firm with what he is saying.

Then a tingle begins to run through your hands, at the same time as you feel the nervousness sweep through your body like a wave. You part your lips as you look at the folder in front of you and with trembling hands, you pick it up and open it.

The first thing you see is the university logo and an overwhelming sensation sweeps over your body and mind as you see what appears to be a letter addressed to you.

Miss. Y/N Y/L/N, Faculty of Law. Official documentation for the scholarship process.

You feel the air you were holding in your lungs slowly leave your mouth. And a huge weight that you felt in your chest is lifted, allowing you to rest and breathe properly.

At first, you think your mind is playing a joke on you. You think he's doing it. But… this is real. More real than you can imagine.

“I know I didn't do things the right way…

Aemond begins to speak, noticing the mix of shock and confusion in your gaze, breathing hard through your mouth.

“I know I took you for granted and that I hurt you,” he says softly, “But that was never my intention, Y/N. I-I… I thought I would get everything under control. That I would work it out and get everything done on time. But, it's just… I don't even have justification.”

You feel tears begin to form in your eyes. But you control yourself. You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to let his words make you break down in tears.

As if the fact that you have in front of you one of the papers confirming and assuring you that you will finally go to the college of your dreams isn't enough.

“I should have acted sooner and looked for solutions. I should have been honest with you from the beginning. And you don't know how sorry I am,” he says softly and vulnerably, his gaze lowered, ”I also don't expect you to forgive me for keeping a promise and asking for forgiveness. I know I fucked up and things can never go back to the way they were. But I just want you to know…” he takes a moment, "That I really did fall in love with you."

Fuck.

“What I felt for you was real. It was never a game or a pretense. I was just… afraid,” he admits, ”Afraid of fucking up what we had. Afraid it would all fall apart if I told you the truth. But… I ruined everything,” he says with a resigned tone, ”You don't have to talk to me again either if you don't want to. You don't owe me anything. I just wanted to tell you the truth and let you know how sorry I am.”

Each word echoes in your mind, with the weight of his regret and his sincerity. You feel the tremble in your body, not helping the fact that you are still staring at the college sheet addressed to your name.

And you hold back, trying to calm the chaos being unleashed inside you by his words.

When he doesn't say anything else, you certainly won't and you both fall silent for a moment, as the weight of his words and the meaning of them fill the space. Until he speaks again.

“I won't bother you anymore,” he moves forward a bit back to the way he came, “Best of luck at Citadel. You deserve it, you really do,” he tells you with a small smile that is sad but genuine at the same time.

Then his figure disappears from your field of vision and you hear him start to walk away. And at that moment, the world seems to stop for you.

Unable to help yourself, you turn your head and watch him walk away with tears in your eyes. There is something in his walk, in that slight slope of his shoulders, that screams the burden he carries. And you don't know why, but… you want to call him, to tell him something that will ease the knot you both feel.

However, you know that won't fix anything.

You feel the air leave you, his words still echoing in your mind. You stare at the folder again, trying to remember what this achievement meant to you before this moment, before he came and stirred all the emotions in you.

You try to be strong, you try not to let this affect you more than it should, you think of the positive. But you can't.

So still in disbelief, excitement, sadness and with all your emotions mixed up, you take your phone, unlock it and open your emails app. And there, your most recent email, you read: Citadel University.

With your hands shaking, you press the email and read in slightly larger letters: Welcome to Citadel University! Miss Y/N, Y/L/N. Faculty of Law, Registration number: 31982.

Then, finally, you can't hold back the tears any longer and you put a hand to your mouth, letting them out, with confused and intense feelings coming over you.

Your father's loving and proud words, hugs and kisses make you smile.

It took you four days to finally break the news to him. And seeing him so happy, excited and proud, made you finally stop feeling so bad for even a moment. You also broke the news to Alysanne and Cregan, who were very happy for you.

Neither of them mentioned Aemond, which you appreciated. But there is the clear acknowledgement to him for making this possible.

You obviously left the job search behind and instead started contacting the university. You sent the missing and necessary documents, they sent you information about the scholarship, your schedule, classes and also about your dorm.

It's like finally this void in your chest is being filled as you finally see this all happening. And as you look at the pictures of the university, with old, elegant and modern architecture at the same time, that excitement rises in you.

However, what you feel is not happiness in its entirety.

In fact, you feel in the middle of a crossroads; joy is mixed with sadness. And the satisfaction of fulfilling the dream feels incomplete.

The worst part is that you know why.

But you don't think about it too much either. You don't want to. On the contrary, you force yourself to repeat over and over again that this was the plan all along. You force yourself to enjoy it and get excited.

You force yourself to think that what happened outside of getting into the college of your dreams was for a reason, but in the end you got what you really wanted.

But, deep down inside, you think about how you wish things could have been different.

At the same time, prom is just around the corner.

At first, you thought about not attending, but of course, Alysanne wouldn't let you think about it anymore. She dragged you with her to the dress store and sentenced that it will be a date of three, her, Cregan and you.

You tried to persuade her, to make her understand that Cregan only wants her as his date. But, of course, Cregan as the great friend he also is, told you it would be fun.

Certainly neither he nor you nor Alysanne have ever been on a three-way date and he told you; what better than to try it at the prom?

The prom preparations are done. Now the important thing is to turn in final projects and get rid of all the pending with the professors.

And that's what you're doing now.

With your headphones on and a notebook along with a book on your table, you're about to finish a long, boring project. When you notice how a figure suddenly obscures your workspace and you raise your gaze almost instantly, curious.

Helaena.

You remove your headphones, surprised to see her as she smiles softly at you.

“Hi,” you say to her in a soft tone, putting your project aside for a moment.

“Hi,” she says to you in the same soft tone, ”I… am I interrupting you?”

“Oh no,” you say nonchalantly, “I mean, yes, but I'm just about to finish it anyway. Don't worry.”

She looks at you a little unsure.

“Are you sure? It's just… I don't know,“ she shrugs, 'It's been a while since we last talked and I didn't know if I could come up to you.”

Again you ignore the small sharp pain in your chest at the memory of Aemond and try to look like you're not at all affected by having his sister in front of you.

“Yeah, well…” you try to smile a little, ”Things have been… intense lately.”

She nods as she takes a seat across from you.

“So it's official?” she asks you with a sad tone as she watches you with a sad little smile, “Like, I mean… you and my brother aren't coming back together?”

This time, the sharp pain in your chest is stronger and more persistent. As well as her question hits you like a wave.

How can you tell her that, in reality, everything you and Aemond had was false? That it was all part of an agreement?

The guilt begins to consume you as you see her face full of expectations and the worst thing is that it's not something you should tell her. That should be Aemond. But, still, you feel the urge to cry and you feel the need to finally tell her the truth, for the sake of everyone who made you believe the fake relationship.

“Helaena…” you begin, your voice barely a whisper, ”I-I… need to be honest with you.”

You take a breath, expecting the worst and imagining a series of difficult emotions to deal with.

“This whole thing between Aemond and I… it was fake,” you speak fearfully and sorrowfully, ”We were just… pretending for our own convenience. It wasn't…” you sigh, closing your eyes for a moment heavily, ”It wasn't real.”

You expected surprise, indignation, incredulity, anger, and more, all at the same time. But to your greatest surprise and bewilderment, she doesn't seem remotely surprised. Instead, she just smiles softly at you, full of understanding, as if she's been waiting for this moment for a long time.

“I already knew that,” she tells you in a serene tone that disarms you.

You feel your lungs hold all your air and you watch her completely stunned, surprised and confused with your parted lips. Then you blink, processing her words.

“What?”

“Aemond told me everything the moment you set up your rules,” she replies calmly, “The truth is, he never hides anything from me. He can't. So I already knew what you both were doing from the beginning.”

You continue to watch her in shock and disbelief, unable to believe it, trying to understand how she could have kept this to herself so naturally.

And in that moment, with disbelief and surprise beating in your chest, you realize that in every single conversation you had with her, right here at school, at parties, even at that family dinner that ended in disaster thanks to Aegon's drunkenness… she had always known.

“Though I don't always approve of his decisions, I understood why he did it… and why you did too.”

But your mind is still short-circuiting, processing and comprehending.

You relive in your mind every moment you went out of your way to pretend, believing you were fooling everyone, especially her. And yet, there's Helaena, looking at you with an expression of calm and empathy that completely disarms you.

“So you knew?” you are able to formulate in asking in a breathy whisper.

She nods, smiling softly.

“Easy, only I knew.“

“And you're not upset?” you ask confused, still waiting for some sign of reproach.

“Not at all. On the contrary, I'm relieved,” she tells you honestly, ”People made fun of Aemond after Alys. And, well, that left a mark on him. You know what rumors are like here.”

“Oh, believe me I do.”

“And they made him miserable. It also didn't help at all that Alys was his first girlfriend and his first formal relationship but the two of them didn't love each other, it was just obsession and whim,” she says absurdly, "And with you, at least, he got some peace back, even if it was temporary."

“But then…” you look at her blankly, “Why did you ask me if we'll get back together?”

Helaena sighs, her gaze soft but intense.

“Because in the end the two of you really fell in love. I saw you at Dragonstone and it was… too obvious.”

You remain silent, remembering those moments.

Both of you walking through those historical corridors, seeing and learning absolutely everything about old Valyria. Both holding hands, fascinated in the aquarium watching everything around or walking together on the shore of the beach, laughing, exchanging glances, hugging and kissing every now and then that everything felt too sincere to be pretending.

You relived every moment and every detail that you wished you could go back to when everything was fine.

Aemond had been different with you those days, a side of him that you had never seen and had thought only existed because of his performance in the fake relationship you had both agreed to.

But even you, being there, without the pressure to pretend, you felt the barriers fall between the two of you, because it was all real.

“He fell in love with you, Y/N,” Helaena tells you sincerely, “You… you did too?”

You feel a lump form in your throat and you let the question float in the air for a moment. The answer is so clear in your mind that it hurts; and yet, saying it out loud feels like breaking a promise you had made to protect yourself.

“Yes, I did too,” you admit, sadness settling in your chest, "But…" you take a deep breath, watching her, ”What happened with Floris even though it was a mistake… and then, the fact that he didn't tell me the truth about Citadel, it really hurt me.”

Helaena nods softly, not judging you, simply listening to you. And when she speaks, her tone is so serene and understanding that it comforts you.

“My brother has this amazing ability to do things in the worst possible way,” she says with a small resigned smile, ”Floris was a mistake. He was drunk and well, he told me that before that both of you have had a disagreement, although that doesn't justify it, I know. I'm just saying, it really was a mistake.”

Your mind momentarily flashes back to that moment, when you tried to end the fake relationship after the family dinner thing.

“And as for the Citadel thing…” she pauses, searching for the right words, “He freaked out, Y/N. He didn't know how to tell you without ruining everything. And I know that doesn't justify it either, but…” she sighs, ”He was going to do whatever it took to hold up his part of the contract. He just didn't count on our grandfather suddenly getting difficult. Our family is already so fucked up as it is, that was the last thing he expected.”

Her words suddenly make you feel interested and curious about a specific topic you hadn't remembered until now. But Helaena continues to speak and you listen to her.

“Even though his method was disastrous, in his mind, he was protecting you,” she says, ”Again, I'm not justifying it. But I know he was desperate to get you that place at Citadel no matter what because he knew you deserved it. And…” she smiles at you with a gesture of resignation, "I think he loves you enough to do stupidly risky things. Even go against grandfather and act behind his back knowing how much trouble he could get into.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and feel a knot of emotions form in your chest. Everything she's telling you opens a door to feelings you'd tried to repress, to thoughts you'd rather bury.

You take a deep breath, remembering again those days at Dragonstone.

You relive every moment, when words were redundant and the silence between the two of you felt so full of meaning. He was always watching you in a way that seemed to say everything and nothing at the same time. He was slowly revealing that vulnerable part of himself that he seemed to have lost after Alys.

But as much as you want to think straight, your thoughts are a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, the pain of it all consumes you but on the other, there's the certainty of how you feel about him.

Even when you're hurting, you know you can't ignore it.

“I know he's still waiting, deep down, for maybe…” Helaena pauses, “Maybe there's a chance for both of you.”

The expression on her face is so sincere and tender that you find it impossible not to believe her, and the thought fills you with a mixture of relief and pain. Because, despite everything, you still love him, and that truth is impossible to deny.

“I don't know,” you confess, biting your lips and feeling your eyes water, ”I-I…I don't know what to do. I mean, we're already graduating. We'll go to the same college but I doubt we'll see each other, you know? And I just… n-no… I don't know….

“Hey, hey,” Helaena tells you instantly, ”It's okay. We don't have to talk about this anymore. I didn't want to overwhelm you or burden you, I just wanted to tell you my opinion and for you to talk to someone in case you needed to,” she tells you softly, comfortingly, ”Still, it's something between the two of you and we can talk about anything else.”

You thank her with a relieved look, her gesture of empathy appearing as she watches you with her soft, understanding expression. And then, she speaks with a more casual tone, changing the subject with a lightness that relieves you a bit.

“You have everything ready for graduation? Are you bringing a date?”

“Hum… yes, I already have everything ready,” you nod, ”And no, I'll go with my two friends. I think you met them, Alysanne and Cregan.”

“Oh yes! I know them,” she says with a smile, ”And I'm going with a friend too. I don't really like the idea of everything being so formal, so going with a friend will make it all more fun.”

Both are silent for a few moments, and although the conversation has taken on a lighter tone, you feel there's still a question trapped in your chest. And at the memory of that day, an impulse prompts you to speak before you can stop yourself.

“Helaena,” you call her softly, "I… can I ask you something?" you ask almost in a whisper, lowering your gaze a little, hesitating.

She watches you curiously and nods without hesitation.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Hum…” you stir in your seat, “That night, at dinner, Aegon said something… about your dad not caring about you. What did he mean by that?”

She immediately looks like she wasn't expecting that question at all, which immediately makes you regret it, but then she softens her whole gaze, not looking at all uncomfortable or upset.

“Oh, well… our dad…” she begins to speak, choosing her words precisely, “Well, he was always very neglectful with us. He always left all the work to mom to take care of us, even when she had to work too so she wasn't totally dependent on him,” she explains, ”It was chaos for a long time. Aegon and I lost years of education because of his lack of commitment.”

“Really?” you look at her attentively and surprised.

“He missed the date to register us for kindergarten in our proper time. He always forgot our birthdays or some important date. But, of course, that never happened to him with our older stepsister, Rhaenyra.”

You remember Aemond mentioning her, though not much.

“And you don't talk to her?”

“Yes, of course,” she says with a small smile, “She was never at blame. In fact, by comparison, she always took us into account and never forgot our existence,” she explains, ”And well, eventually mom divorced him. And the only good thing dad did in the end was to mention us and give us parts of his inheritance in his will.”

Helaena's sincerity and calmness in sharing this about her life surprises you and, at the same time, makes you understand the complicated family history behind them. Now it's no wonder why Aegon was so angry to bring up the subject of parents.

Nor do you ignore the connection you begin to feel towards them, obviously because of your mother and her abandonment.

“It must have been very difficult, for everyone,” you murmur, ”I'm sorry to hear that.”

She nods, though her expression doesn't reflect bitterness, but something akin to mature acceptance.

“Yes, but that made us strong,” she says with a slight smile, "Aegon was the one who resented his absence the most, as you could see," she tells you knowingly, ”You know, being the eldest and all. But we're more… happy now, now that he's gone,” she confesses.

You let out a long breath, watching her with compassion.

“Thank you for telling me. I didn't mean to intrude, really.”

“No, it's fine, it really doesn't affect me,” she assures you softly, ”After that Aegon scene at dinner, it's valid you know. So don't worry.”

You both smile softly at each other, expressions warm and sincere, falling silent. When Helaena stands up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

“Well…” she says, letting out a slight sigh, adjusting her backpack, ”I should be going now. I also have projects to finish.”

“Sure,” you nod, ”Thanks for coming and talking to me.”

“Oh, there's nothing to thank you for. Anytime. I'll see you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

You both say goodbye and you watch her walk away in the direction of the main building, her silver hair shining in the sunlight, as you let out a long breath and put your headphones back in.

Prom.

You really don't understand what you're doing here. But it's all Alysanne's doing, like the makeup, hairstyle and dress.

You get out of Cregan's car with a beautiful lilac metallic dress on. Finding it wasn't hard at all, since it was like love at first sight, especially since it has a princess cut. And upon measuring it, Alysanne also decided that it was the one.

The hairstyle was also easy, after all, you didn't want anything too voluminous or too fancy. So a wavy style in your hair with a crown of silver flowers at the crown of your head was the perfect touch.

Alysanne on the other hand chose a beautiful wine colored dress that flatters her at every angle, deciding to gather her hair with two strands falling on either side of her face, making her look absolutely elegant and gorgeous.

And once all three of you are ready, Cregan dressed in an impeccable dark suit, offers you both his arms and you enter the grand ballroom of the luxurious hotel together.

The ballroom is illuminated by the typical disco balls hanging from the high ceiling, casting silver and white sparkles that create an almost magical atmosphere.

The decor is elegant and subtle, with centerpieces of fresh flowers and candles giving each table a touch of romantic charm.

You feel a mixture of nerves and excitement as you enter, as if it's all part of a dream. After all, it is your prom and tonight symbolizes a chapter you are about to close, your high school years.

The dance floor is in the center, surrounded by tables in a circle and already some of the guests have started to dance, getting lost in the rhythm of the soft music that fills the atmosphere thanks to the DJ.

Although not only disco balls light up the place, but also some colored lights to make the atmosphere more colorful.

If someone had told you in your freshman year everything that was going to happen in your final year, you would have laughed out loud and wouldn't have believed it at all, because your life was too boring.

But here you are, with still those events in mind, where at the end of the night, you will put them behind you.

You adjust your lilac dress, whose princess-cut skirt falls in soft layers to the floor. The fabric moves with you, as if it were an extension of your own footsteps, and the color shimmers delicately under the silver lights.

The three of you make your way to one of the tables to take a seat and you take a closer look around you as the decorations and you also see familiar faces of some of your classmates, some laughing in groups and others on the dance floor with their dates.

And Alysanne, excited and obsessed with everything, wants to have memories of the whole night and soon the three of you are taking a long selfie session with her phone.

Cregan complains about too many photos and the laughter of the three fills the air as Alysanne continues to make sure she captures the best shots, changing angles and poses.

Alysanne, with a huge smile, spins around on herself and then grabs your hands to dance with her, laughing every time you both take a step out of rhythm. You can feel her pure happiness, an excitement that doesn't take long to become contagious and where Cregan soon joins in.

The dance floor is filling up and the sparkles of the lights reflecting off everyone's costumes and dresses create an enchanting and magical atmosphere.

The DJ starts mixing more upbeat songs, and you see how everyone is having fun, laughing and dancing.

Immediately this catches Alysanne's attention and she drags the three of you onto the dance floor with infectious laughter. Before you know it, you're in the middle of the dance floor with them, surrounded by movement and music.

The music beats on the floor and vibrates in your chest, and, slowly, you begin to let loose, moving to the beat of the songs as the colored lights swirl above you all.

“I'm going to get a drink!” you let them both know over the music.

You have no idea exactly how much time passes that you find yourself dancing, enjoying the night, the echo of laughter and the warmth of the crowd.

The euphoria makes you forget and enjoy yourself as you feel your throat dry and your feet start to ache, with your body starting to beg for water and a little break.

“Okay!” Cregan nods, throwing you a smile, still dancing with Alysanne.

You smile knowingly, since after all, these two deserve to have their moment, and you walk away towards the table where there are different desserts and the drinks for all the graduates.

You take a bottle of water, and as you drink, the immediate relief makes you close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the coolness.

And only at that moment, standing alone and a little apart, you notice the glances of some people around you, mainly girls passing by you and whispering something between them, looking at you out of the corner of their eyes.

Great.

You thought you were past all this but even at prom it doesn't stop.

You take a deep breath and look out onto the dance floor, where you make out Alysanne and Cregan dancing close together, smiling and animated. You certainly don't want to interrupt them and you look around again, trying to distract yourself with anything you can find to rest your feet on.

You try not to make a big deal of it and look back at them for just a few moments with a serious look on your face and again try to focus on regaining your energy, telling yourself that this shouldn't affect you.

You remind yourself that you are here for you and your friends, and that is all that should matter to you.

When your gaze unconsciously focuses on Floris.

With her arm intertwined with a boy, whom you recognize from the lacrosse team, she looks absolutely elegant with a beautiful hairstyle and a gorgeous pink dress.

And as she joins the party, she seems totally focused on enjoying the evening, her expression relaxed and happy.

You look away from her, focused on something else, where your attention slips unintentionally to Alys, surrounded by her friends.

In the distance, suddenly her gaze meets yours and you quickly look away, not knowing why but… you really don't want to deal with or care about those people anymore.

She's wearing dark makeup and a sensual emerald green dress that completely clings to her body and highlights her curves. She looks completely beautiful, but knowing her attitude and behavior, it makes her lose her charm.

You watch Helaena for a few more seconds, her energy lighting up the dance floor, when suddenly, a tall, familiar figure catches your attention on the other side of the room in the crowd.

Instead, you focus on Helaena, who you find among all the people dancing, getting carried away by the atmosphere and in the company of the friend who told you.

Her silver hair is swaying to the music and she shines in the middle of everyone in that beautiful sky blue dress and gold accessories, looking absolutely gorgeous.

Aemond is standing a few feet away, talking to Aegon, both looking absolutely handsome for the evening. Then, the atmosphere around you seems to fade a bit and he's the only one who catches your eye in the middle of the crowd.

And that mixture of emotions about him rises in your chest again.

You take a closer look at who is around him and it is only Aegon. You don't see any girl hanging on his arm or anything, so apparently he has come unaccompanied, just like you.

He is dressed in a dark suit that highlights his slender figure and impeccable posture, just like Aegon. The silver light of the disc balls bring out his silver hair and his face so perfectly detailed, giving it a glow that is almost unreal to you.

Your gaze lingers on him longer than you had anticipated. From a distance, you can notice the lack of expressions on his face and the small twitch of his lips as he speaks to Aegon, looking around him without really showing any emotion.

That eye contact takes the air out of you. The memory of all the things you shared, the conversations, the looks, the touching and kissing… it all comes over you.

And at that very moment, as if sensing the weight of your attention, Aemond looks up and sees you beyond the crowd, apart and alone. The visual connection is instantaneous, almost electric, and suddenly you feel all the people and bustle around you fade away.

You can't deny the attraction and deep affection that, even now, beat intensely in your chest. And, for an instant, you wonder if he too feels the same mix of nostalgia and sadness in the midst of it all.

You notice how he looks you up and down, lingering on every detail of what you're wearing today, his eyes shining, filled with a kind of wary hope and longing, completely stealing your breath.

Then, his body language tells you he's getting ready to move. Coming at you, with her determined gaze.

Oh God.

A sense of panic invades every part of your body. And before he can do anything, you look away and quickly make your way to the dance floor, blending into the crowd, heading towards your friends.

The music booms in your ears and your thoughts are in complete chaos, hitting you one after the other.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you tell yourself that you just want to enjoy the night, to stop thinking about him and what was, even if it's only for a few hours.

So time passes, the energy of the dance becomes more relaxed, and though you manage to avoid crossing paths directly with Aemond, his presence seems to haunt your mind like a lingering ghost, one that doesn't dissipate with the music or the bright lights.

You look around from time to time, and out of the corner of your eye you notice that he also seems to avoid being too close to you, although you can't help thinking that maybe he is also looking for you in the crowd, as you are looking for him.

Until, finally, the atmosphere immediately changes.

The lights dim and the silver and warm tones transform the room into an intimate place. Couples begin to approach the dance floor, holding hands, to dance to the slow songs. And you decide it's the perfect time to take a break.

You smile at Cregan and Alysanne, giving them another moment again, feeling a twinge of tenderness and, at the same time, unexpected loneliness.

You take a seat at one of the nearby tables, watching as the dance floor fills with couples slowly swaying to the music.

Dresses and suits intertwine, and for a moment, you let yourself be enveloped by the warmth of the atmosphere, allowing yourself to feel invisible in the midst of all that harmony.

You watch Floris dancing with that boy, Alysanne with Cregan of course, and Helaena dancing with her friend, both with amused smiles and talking softly without taking the slow dance so seriously. You also see Aegon dancing very close with a girl.

And as your eyes wander around the dance floor, your gaze focuses again on his figure, which seems just as lonely as yours.

A few tables away, Aemond sits alone, surveying the dance floor with an expression you fail to fully decipher. His fingers drum on the rim of his glass, and, for a moment, he seems lost in his own thoughts. He looks calm, almost vulnerable.

You stare at him longer than you think and sigh, averting your gaze, and as the seconds pass, the urge to stand still and do nothing begins to fade.

You bite the inside of your cheek and begin to move your foot up and down rapidly, feeling your heart begin to beat too fast. You watch all the people dancing again, hesitating.

Then you let out a long breath and without knowing exactly why, you take a deep breath and stand up. With slow steps, a momentum and a calmness you try to maintain, you head towards him.

As you get closer, you notice how his gaze, which was lost on the dance floor, suddenly focuses on you, noticing before out of the corner of his eye your approaching figure. Surprise and bewilderment mixed with something else appears in his gaze and you stop in front of him, nervous but determined.

Then neither of you say anything for a few moments. The same nerves make you unable to speak and the two of you just stand there, watching each other.

You feel how some people around you suddenly have their attention focused on both of you, waiting for what you will do, but you don't even pay attention to them. You just focus completely on him.

Until you sigh.

"Do you dance?" you ask softly and nervous.

The words seem to break the spell, and Aemond blinks, clearly surprised and somehow confused.

You watch the expression on his face, as if he's processing every word you've just said, looking for some hint of doubt or change of heart in your expression.

"S-sure," he says still confused, not expecting this at all.

There's a mix of emotions in his eyes, confusion, surprise and nervousness, something you wouldn't have expected to see in him. And you, not wanting to drag this out any longer than necessary, extend your hand to him.

He watches your face attentively and then your hand, still surprised, to finally take it gently. His fingers intertwine with yours, sending an electricity throughout your body through his touch as he stands up.

You swallow hard, feeling your heart beating like crazy and nervousness invading your whole system. And without another word, you both head for the dance floor.

Then, everything around you fades away, the murmurs and laughter, even the music itself becomes a distant whisper, and only he remains, next to you.

He places a hand on your waist, his touch delicate, as if he doesn't want to do anything that could break this fragile instant. You take his other hand, intertwining it with yours and as you both begin to move to the rhythm of the music, you feel how a mixture of emotions floods each of your senses.

Aemond watches you, his eyes fixed on yours and with a nervous little smile on his lips, as if he can't believe this is really happening.

The music moves forward, slow, allowing you to glide in front of each other. As his steps synchronize with yours, the movements become smooth and natural.

And in a moment you realize that you both are completely absorbed in each other, as if nothing and no one could interrupt this bubble that surrounds you.

Finally, Aemond breaks the silence, his voice barely audible over the music and shy, watching you with a gleam in his eye.

"You look beautiful."

He says to you, his words so sincere and emotionally charged that you feel a surge of warmth wash over you.

You wish his words didn't make you melt. But they do. And everything about him, every gesture, his closeness, the firm, protective touch of his hand on your waist, the way he holds you, as if you were something precious and delicate, envelops and intoxicates you.

"Thank you," you reply, feeling a soft smile appear on your lips, "You too... you look very handsome."

He smiles, marking the dimples on either side of his cheeks.

"I wasn't expecting you to come over," he admits, his eyes revealing something between vulnerability and surprise.

The tone of his voice, so soft and honest, makes you feel a warmth you haven't experienced in a long time.

"I didn't know I would," you reply with a barely perceptible smile, "But I thought, maybe... I don't want to spend the night running away," you confess.

He nods, not looking away.

"I didn't want it to be like that either."

His hand on your waist pulls you slightly closer to him with a firm movement and the slight brush makes you aware of the closeness between the two of you.

You feel your thoughts cloud over and you let yourself become more enveloped by him, unable to help it.

His chin brushes your forehead and you feel that at any moment your heart will jump out of your chest. It's an insistent, powerful beat that seems to resonate with every breath you take at his side.

Then, Aemond lowers his voice, his tone becoming softer, almost melancholy, as if his words are a secret shared only between the two of you.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date that day, you know? When I gave you the folder.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date that day, you know, when I gave you the folder," he confesses, with a certain melancholy tone, "But I knew it wouldn't be fair to ask you that and I really didn't want to hurt you anymore."

The sincerity in his tone pierces you, and you feel your own barriers begin to crumble. You listen to him with your heart pounding, absorbing every word.

Aemond sighs and his fingers tighten slightly at your waist.

"And a moment ago, when I saw you so perfect and so beautiful in this dress... I realized how much I wished I had walked through those doors with you on my arm," he says with a longing and sadness.

The music continues to envelop you and you feel his confession reverberate through you, intensifying every sensation, every emotion.

The strength of his words, of the connection that has been created between the two of you in the middle of this song, makes the air seem thick and charged with meanings that don't need to be explained.

Then you raise your gaze to him and you both stare at each other in silence, where your words seem to get caught in your throat.

His eyes roam over your face, as if he wants to remember every detail, as if he wants to take this moment with him. There is a sadness and a softness in his gaze that you haven't seen before, and it makes something in your chest tighten.

And again his voice breaks through the soft silence that envelops you.

"I'm sorry... for everything," he says barely a whisper, laden with a sincerity that resonates deeply.

His fingers trace slow circles on your back, small gestures that seem to try to comfort you and to comfort him too. The contact between the two of you is firm and warm, and yet, you feel as if Aemond fears that at any moment this could disappear.

For a moment, the music seems to fade, leaving only your heartbeat and the echo of his voice in the air.

You feel the urge to speak, to say something that would ease the vulnerability on his face, but you find it difficult to organize your thoughts.

Instead, you opt for a simple but meaningful gesture. You propel yourself a little towards him and leave a soft kiss on his cheek, then rest your head on his chest and gently inhale his expensive cologne, being comforting enough for you.

"It's okay," you murmur.

He lets out a sigh of relief, mixed with longing and makes his grip on your waist tighter, not wanting to let go. Then, he leaves a soft kiss on the crown of your head, resting his head on yours as you both continue to sway gently to the music.

"Thank you for giving me this dance," he murmurs.

You place a soft, small smile on your lips, then raise your gaze to his, watching him with nothing but fondness.

He continues to watch you with that softness and one of his hands goes up to your cheek. In a delicate, almost fearful touch, his thumb runs over your skin in a gesture that is both protective and vulnerable.

Then he rests his forehead against yours and you both close your eyes, as you lean into him.

You both fall silent, letting the slow rhythm of the music carry you away, allowing the moment to linger, in a fragile and honest peace.

You feel that you could stay like this, in this bubble of time and silence, without the need for words, because, in this instant, you both understand what has been said and what doesn't need to be said.

The song changes to another slow one and you both lose yourselves in the moment, enjoying it, not wanting it to end.

Time seems to stand still as you dance together, moving slowly and leisurely, as if nothing and no one else exists. The sounds of the party fade around you, leaving only the beating of your hearts and the faint brush of your breaths.

Your eyes close as you let go, feeling his hand on your back and the warmth his body gives off, so close and so full of meaning.

You both breathe in sync, your foreheads resting against each other, your eyes closed as the moment stretches out and becomes more than just a dance.

This instant is a truce, a refuge where everything else, the doubts, the pain, the past, is suspended and what follows is moving forward.

"You've got everything ready to go to college?"

His voice breaks the silence softly, barely a murmur, as if afraid to disturb the peace around you both.

"Yeah," you murmur, nodding.

"What are you traveling there on?"

"Well, I was checking with my dad about bus and plane ticket prices. But I still haven't made up my mind," you admit, remembering discussions about which was the safest and cheapest option.

Aemond nods, thoughtfully. Then, after a brief pause, he speaks with calm assurance.

"I can take you."

You look at him instantly surprised, definitely not expecting that.

"What?"

"I can take you," he repeats, sure of his words, "Well, sure, if you want," he hastens to clarify, "After all, we're going to the same place and I'll make the trip in my car," he explains, "There's plenty of room for your bags along with mine and so you won't have to spend on a ticket. Besides, it would be safer and I think, I don't know, you'd be more comfortable."

You remain silent, trying to assimilate what he has just said. There is something in his words, in the slow and sincere tone, that strikes a deep chord in you.

The idea of making the trip together, of sharing that important moment of departure, of having one last time alone before facing a new life, awakens a mix of emotions that are difficult to describe.

He lowers his gaze for a moment, nervous, clarifying in a low voice.

"It's just a suggestion... something I thought might make things easier for you. You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

Your heart pounds, and somehow, the simplicity of his offer, the naturalness with which he cares for you, causes a warm surge of gratitude and affection to wash over you.

"Can you really do that for me?" you ask quietly, with a little smile you can't help.

"Sure," he says absurdly softly, as if it weren't obvious, "But only if you want me to. I don't want to force you. It's just an option."

You look up at him, holding his gaze for a second that seems like forever, and nod slowly, allowing the feeling of relief and closeness to wash over you.

"I'd love to," you whisper, your voice barely a murmur, "Thank you."

The shadow of a smile tugs at his lips, and you can see the relief in his expression.

"No need to thanks."

Without another word, Aemond pulls you a little closer to him and again the two of you bring your foreheads together, letting the moment lengthen as the music changes to another slow rhythm.

You both remain like that, moving in silence and enjoying the moment, spending the last moment of your high school lives together, to start college together.

"Are you ready?"

Aemond watches you from the driver's seat, his hands resting calmly on the steering wheel with a small smile on his face.

The car is already loaded with suitcases for both of you and you nod, taking a deep breath to calm the emotions fluttering in your chest.

The thought of heading off together towards this new stage causes a mixture of nerves and excitement to wash over you, though a part of you also feels comforted by Aemond's presence at your side.

"Yes," you reply, adjusting your belt.

You watch him and he gives you one last knowing look before putting the car in move.

Saying goodbye to your dad was difficult, but it was something you were both already preparing for and you knew that moment would come.

Besides, he met Aemond, as your friend who will do you the favor of driving you to college and nothing more. And your dad felt safer with that instead of taking the plane or bus alone.

Especially after Aemond promised him countless times that he would take care of you at all times.

The road is serene at first, and Aemond turns on the radio, letting a soft melody fill the comfortable silence between them.

The roads stretch out in front of you, long and exciting, as the landscape changes shape and the kilometers pass, leaving behind the city where you experienced so much.

From time to time, you exchange glances, small comments about the places you see and the expectations each has for the university.

Aemond seems especially careful, attentive to every sign on the road and every change in your expression, as if he wants to make sure you are comfortable and at ease.

And he especially notices a change in your expression.

"Is something bothering you?" he asks you, his voice low but close, filling the space in a comforting way.

You watch him and after some hesitation, you shrug.

"I guess it makes me a little nervous not knowing what to expect," you admit, "This whole new stage... the idea of being alone in a new place."

Aemond nods, understanding what you mean, his eyes fixed on the road.

"I guess it's normal," he tells you softly, "It's almost obligatory to feel this way, but, for what it's worth... you won't be completely alone."

His gaze meets yours for a second before he turns back to the road.

"I'm going to be around if at any time you need anything or anything happens, anything at all."

You feel a warmth settle in your chest, and a part of your nerves seem to fade. The idea of him being there, close by, offering you that closeness, gives you a strange sense of relief.

"Thank you, Aemond," you murmur with a small smile.

He smiles, marking a dimple in his cheek, and turns his eyes to the front.

The ride continues, where the atmosphere in the car becomes more and more comfortable, chatting about small details, expectations, and the occasional joke that makes you both laugh comfortably.

And finally, as the two enter the town of Oldtown and the university looms in the distance, Aemond slows down, looking at the campus that would soon become his home.

"There it is," he says, a slight excitement in his voice.

The same excitement rubs off on you and excitedly, you take his hand, intertwining it with yours, excited and hopeful.

Hopeful that all that is to come for you in this place are good and promising things. As well as hopeful for Aemond and for you.

series taglist:

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @vhwyrm @strangersunghoon @queen-of-elves

[hestella]

Hannibal Lector: A New Face

A/N: I'm currently not done watching Hannibal so there are A LOT of mistakes and it probably won't make any sense lol please tell me out of the kindness of your heart if you want me to fix anything or want to let me know. Also some scenes are improvised by me, I don’t own any characters except for my OC(which is, well, you), all credits to Hannibal NBC and Red Dragon series. LOVE YOU ALL

Warnings: mentions of violence, sexual violence, blood, murder, use of Y/N(cause I can't think of a cool name), Fem!reader, kind of POC reader?, psychopath reader, trauma, mental illness, BLIND READER

Will Graham was gifted a special talent, the talent to see and read a person's mind, no matter how wicked or broken it was, he was able to know exactly what and why and how. His talents were greatly appreciated from the FBI, especially solving murder cases.

He had some of friends, but there was one particular and close friend he had, her name being Y/N.

She seemed to be also have a special natural-born talent. After an unfortunate event, she was permanently blinded and needed to have a walking sick with her, but she still was able to memorize and observe the smallest details of practically anything she felt and heard. Her talent was also what the FBI needed, but she never actually applied, or even participate on those kinds of stuff, unlike Will.

In fact, she was just a plain old professor, teaching philosophy, she gave lectures in colleges and universities for a living.

At first Hannibal thought she was boring, until he actually got to meet her.

When Jack got to know Will, it wasn't that long after he also got to know Y/N. Will constantly mentioned her, about her abilities and how she would have thought about some things. Will knew better than to actually mention FBI cases to her, but the other way, there wasn't anything stopping him. If Will was doing lectures, not with the FBI, Jack automatically sought her for help. She reluctantly accepted, not because of the work itself but for Will, thinking that he would heal when she solved some cases for him, giving him a break. She had control of her lectures, so she was at least more flexible than Will. And with all seriousness, she was good. It was different from Will’s way of investigation, but she was able to collect evidence according to the case and end up with a conclusion, which actually helped Jack a lot, since Will’s investigation relied on his assumptions, that he himself couldn't really make sense.

"Whoever that killed these girls probably has some kind of women that look like those victims. It can be a daughter, a long gone crush, a mother...someone that they have deep connection, whether it's positive or negative. That makes them most likely a male." She explained, after listening to all the information she needed.

"We already assumed that this was a male, unintentionally. Any other observations?" Jack said.

"It's most likely a daughter, though. Young, all from different campuses. He chose these campuses specifically, I'd say, probably one his daughter goes to, or is planning to go to." She continued. "However..." She stood up, walking towards the board with the pictures, wandering her walking stick from side to side.

"He...he has a thing for killing. he's not doing this for pleasure, it's...it's more like art. Precise, like....." she turned around. "...like those people who hunt wildlife." she said.

"...what?" Jack asked.

She bit her lips, not knowing how to say it. "...like those people, I can't, I can't explain it." She looked towards Will, or just turned around where she sensed he was, for help.

Will nodded. "..yeah, I get it. I can see that, wildlife hunters."

"He probably also owns some personal space, like a cabin, out in the woods where he can dissect and dress the animals he hunts. That's probably where he killed these girls too. He would have been used to it, if he used to, or still currently is a hunter." She muttered.

"Yes, where he can butcher, cool, and storage animals, and apparently people. Even if someone accidentally saw blood or, smelled something from there, it makes sense because it's for that purpose, except it's for animals." Will continued.

She nodded and looked back at Jack, her eyes not really focusing exactly to him. "...did that help?" she asked.

"...quite." Jack looked at her only white eyes.

“im glad,” she gave him a faint smile. “But I’ve been trying to ask…is there someone else here? Apart from Will, me, and you?”

“allow me to introduce myself, Ms. Y/L/N, I’m doctor Hannibal Lector. I apologize for my unintentional ambush,” Hannibal stood upon respect, even if she couldn’t see.

“ah, so you were the one. I thought I was having delusions,” she turned her head to face him, her white eyes staring somewhat at Hannibal. She walked towards him and reached out her hand, which Hannibal accepted gently and respectfully. “No need to apologize, Dr. Lector.” She gave him a smile too.

“I should say you’re quite flexible on communicating, even though you’re visually impaired. Different from Will, you try to have eye contact with people. No offense, by all means,” Hannibal muttered his short observation.

“I’m not offended, it’s true. But there’s no need to psychoanalyze me, doctor.” She let go of his hand and reminded him, slithering away from Hannibal’s attempt to make her step out of her circle.

Hannibal wasn’t able to get a hold of her. She rarely talked, but rather tried to hint the FBI about the evidence. He tried inviting her to dinner but she was always somehow reserved. She surely seemed careful about who to let in her circle.

Hannibal tried to step into her personal space by packing up food that he made and giving them to her. He planned to do that to Will too, getting to know him and partially using it to show her what kind of a person he was. His plan was this: pack breakfast for Will, then let Will tell this event to her, and then eventually making her comfortable enough for him to make breakfast for her too. It was getting two rabbits by one stone.

Hence, that was what happened. A second of silence surrounded the two, as they chewed and swallowed the food.

“Agent Crawford told me you have a knack for the monsters,” Hannibal mentioned.

Will put down his fork and looked at him. “..I don’t think the Shrike killed the girl in the field.”

Hannibal also put down his fork and leaned a bit forward. “The devil is in the details. What didn’t your copycat do to the girl in the fields? What gave it away?”

“..everything. It’s like, he had to show me a negative to prove that-“ he sighed. “Y/N would’ve explain it better,” he muttered. “it’s like he had to show me a negative so that-so that I could see the positive.” He rubbed his face.

“….Y/N?” Hannibal muttered.

“Crawford wants her. I don’t want her to be, but I feel like she can see more than I can.” Will looked around. Hannibal noticed this.

“…May I ask you a question, Will?” Hannibal said, his breakfast long forgotten. Will just waved his hand, nodding his head. “Do you live with someone else here?”

“..yeah, we, Y/N and I thought it wouldn’t be that bad of an idea, rather than getting separate rooms…” Will explained. Hannibal nodded. So that was the thing he felt was off about the house. He was honestly surprised, but didn’t let that out.

“where is she, then? Sleeping? I would love to share this meal with her too, if she can,”

“She leaves at 4 in the morning to go to her job.” Will replied, taking another bite of the food. “and she’s strictly vegan, so I don’t think she’ll be able to eat any of these,”

“I see. Her job, which is..”

“Teaching. Modern philosophy at Johns Hopkins.”

“ah, Johns Hopkins. I should’ve known.” Hannibal almost gave him a smile.

With the additional information, it was too easy for Hannibal to roll Jack Crawford up and persuade her to be one of his patients too. He added a little bit of extra reasoning with her injury, telling Jack perhaps the right therapy may make her sense more, and less be obstacled by her blindness. It wasn’t his initial goal to help her sense like a not-visually-impaired person, but he was confident it was possible.

He decided to pay a visit to her lectures.

(Should I make this a series??)

[toujokaname]

Game master / Episode 9

Author: Akira

Characters: Niki, AkanP, Tatsumi

"I don't wanna worry everyone too much, so I'll at least put on a cheerful face."

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Season: Winter

Location: Amagi's House

About ten minutes later. In the Amagi Village, at Crazy:B's lodgings.

Niki: Ugh~... Ughhh~ I can't eat anymore~...

No, I've gotta eat... I was born for it... Bring on more plates, my stomach's a bottomless pit—

—Wh... Uh, huh?

Did I... doze off?

AkanP: Good morning, Shiina-kun.

Niki: Nn, nngh? Good morning~?

Nahaha... I'm sorry. Um, were you looking after me while I was out cold?

My bad for the trouble, Akan-san. And Anzu-nee-san too.

AkanP: Ahaha. Even though I'm older than Anzu-chan, I only get a mere "san," while she gets "nee-san"?

What's your logic behind the difference?

Niki: Ahh, well, the thing is—

Eh, wha? Akan-san, you're a lady?

But, when I first saw you... Oh, wait, did I misunderstand 'cause you were wearing a suit?

AkanP: Fufu. You're a rather interesting boy too, huh.

I thought that the public's opinion of you, both now and in the past, was that you were incompetent as an idol, a useless person who couldn't do anything.

Niki: Nah, that's just true.

When Rinne-kun first invited me, I couldn't just stand by and watch, so I helped out a bit—

I got fed up with it and quit right away. So, my incompetence should've been proven, but surprisingly, we're working together again as idols.

AkanP: Ahh, you did some idol work with Rinne-kun for a brief period in the past, right.

By that time, Rinne-kun had already left my hands—so I don't know the details.

Niki: We didn't do much of anything back then, honestly. Especially since I quit pretty fast before making any progress.

Even now, I don't really wanna get involved in the entertainment industry, 'cause of my parents' situation.

AkanP: Even so, you can't leave Rinne-kun alone, so you stay by his side.

You're a kind boy.

Moreover, you have a surprisingly good eye for people. You seem to vaguely detect something off about me as well.

Niki: Well, cooking's all for the sake of others.

If the goal's only to get nutrients, might as well let a machine automatically churn out food in a factory or something.

AkanP: Yes. That's true. And it applies to idols, too, right?

Tatsumi: Niki-saaan?

How are you feeling? It seems we're about to start the test of courage showdown. But if you're unable to move yet, will you be absent?

Niki: Oh, an unexpected person's here.

Tatsumi: Is that so? Well, we don't typically have much interaction, after all.

Niki: Right, right. While Crazy:B and ALKALOID get name-dropped together a lot, we don't usually talk together or know much about each other, huh.

Tatsumi: I feel the same. That's why I'm not sure how to behave towards Kohaku-san either, for example.

Yet despite that, I wish for us to get along in order to accomplish the same job, Matrix.

Niki: Right back at you~♪ Thank you kindly, I'll be counting on you! Let's be pals!

Tatsumi: Such a friendly person. Well, I suppose all the members of Crazy:B are like that.

Niki: Hm? But don't you think HiMERU-kun's pretty exclusionary? Or rather, irritable?

Tatsumi: These days, yes. But he wasn't like that in the past, he used to be more innocent and bright—

I wonder, what in the world happened to him...

Niki: Have you known HiMERU-kun for a long time?

Tatsumi: Ah, yes, we both attended Reimei Academy, he and I.

Niki: Huhhh... I only graduated middle school, so high school and college seem like different worlds to me. What was he like?

I can't wrap my head around HiMERU-kun as a student~♪

Tatsumi: Even now, he must still be just another regular high school student...

More importantly. While chatting is enjoyable, we're currently in the middle of work.

Niki-san appears to have been inevitably chosen as a "scarer" for the test of courage, so if you're motivated, let's move to our positions together.

Actually, I came to fetch you for that purpose. Mayoi-san was with me too, but he said he was "scared of being attacked," so I came alone.

Niki: Scarer? Not sure what that's about, and I'm never really motivated, but—

I don't wanna worry everyone too much, so I'll at least put on a cheerful face.

[ ☆ ]

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[claudia-nomusaabara]

9, 30, and 45 for Vanessa, 15, 40, and 39 for Tina!

@fishklok ❤️🤙🏼

Vanessa

9. Is your oc afraid of touch or do they actively seek it out? Is there a reason for this? What are the exceptions?

Nessa's not afraid of touch but she will seek it out and reciprocate when she's around loved ones.

It does surprise her at times how much she can feel better after a hug, a soothing hand on her back, or just holding a hand.

Even as a baby Nessa always responded better to being picked up and cuddled to calm down, it's something that carried over to her adulthood and it's one of her expressions to show those she loves.

30. What topics does your oc know the most about? Are these obvious or would these be surprising to others?

1. Jamaican Patois/Japanese: Not immediately obvious depending on who she's talking to.

2. Rap/Hip-hop music particularly the Wu-Tang Clan and Lil-Kim: Not obvious at all until someone asks her. She'll talk your ear off about her favorite songs.

3. Jamaican cooking: Semi-obvious, watch her critique of someone's Jamaican food and you'll know. Extra points since she worked at her paternal Grandparent's Jamaican restaurant, the Tug Boat.

4. Video Games: Not obvious at all! She surprises A LOT of people with her video game knowledge. Especially Street Fighter, she gets a perfect round more often than not.

5. Japanese Culture/Karate: A little easy to spot if you know how to look. She'll probably tell you sooner than later!

35. How easily does your oc get attached to things? Does everything have a sentimental value to them, or do they see nothing as more valuable than its practical use? What about with people/animals?

It takes her some time to get truly attached to someone, and once she gets that close, that's when Vanessa starts getting scared.

All of that stems from her mom voluntarily disappearing when she was just eleven and a month after Tina turned one.

Afterward, during her tween and teen years, she consistently kept people at an arm's length other than some family and some friends. It took her college years to chip away enough of that to maintain two separate romantic relationships she had and open herself up a little.

It was years worth of therapy to chip away more of that wall only for it to build back up after Magnus.

Now for sentimental things, not everything that will be important will automatically be sentimental. But she can't help but hold on to certain things that belonged to someone she cared for, even if it's only memories.

Tina

15. If you had to choose a single object to act as a symbol for your oc, what would it be? Why?

That's a very good question! It took some thinking, and this applies to both of the sisters since they have this animal tattooed on them, but the Doctor Bird from Jamaica. Also known as a Red-billed streamertail.

This bird represents the reincarnation of dead souls and it's for being quick, and difficult to kill. AKA the G-d Bird.

The folk song about them inspired me more for them:

“Doctor Bud a cunny bud, hard bud fe dead”. (It is a clever bird which cannot be easily killed).

I also use it for both of the sisters to represent good luck sometimes in unexpected ways. They won't win the lottery overnight but they won't meet others' misfortune.

39. How superstitious your oc? Do they end up following them ‘just in case’? Or are superstitions incredibly important to your oc? What are some that they believe? What about the ones they don’t?

To put it like this, Tina is on the end closer to the "Then how do you explain the dead unicorns?" debate of "There's no such thing as trolls".

She may not be particularly superstitious but Tina has enough Jamaican upbringing (general POC parenting) to not fool around with things she doesn't understand.

Tina will carry a good luck charm maybe but don't expect her to freak out if she doesn't follow a ritual.

40. Are there any habits your oc has picked up from people around them? Do they know where they’re from? Does your oc try to stop themselves from doing it?

Tina picked up her slight nail-biting from her dad and she knows it's from him after Nessa told her as a kid.

She will try to stop herself but bad habits take a while to die when stressed.

[unhookedcandles]

I'm sure that someone else has talked about this, but I just went out to lunch with my aunt who is a long-time special ed teacher and I was complaining about some of the crazy parents that I had to deal with in my clinical placements and I showed her this super long email I sent to one of the moms where I clearly explained to her exactly why I was doing what I was doing and she didn't listen to a single thing I was saying. My aunt looked at it with knowing eyes and said "You can't fight crazy with logic." I laughed but it's been a few days now and I can't stop thinking about how relevant that is, not just in my life, but in politics rn too.

You can't fight crazy with logic.

My dad is a smart man, but he grew up poor and white and worked his way through college so he very much has eaten the lies that the US has fed to him about social mobility. He believes that if he can do it anyone can do it, and he did do it, so it is difficult for him to understand why other people can't do the same. But he's a smart man, and his beliefs are evidence-based (his evidence in this case being himself) so the best way to combat his logical beliefs are with logic. He didn't understand why immigrants didn't just come in to the country legally, which is not a completely illogical thought. Due to many factors (he's white, he's not a reader, he's not super politically engaged, he's nice but not prone to giving people the benefit of the doubt) his mind does not go to looking for the barriers that would prevent people from applying legally. However, the fact that he doesn't look for these barriers isn't him not believing that these barriers exist, and as I said he's a logical man. I showed him the John Oliver video about how difficult it is for asylum seekers to even try to apply for asylum to the US, the way that they have to download apps and the apps don't work, and the way that the system is broken from the start. He saw the evidence-- people weren't applying legally because they couldn't apply legally. And so he changed his mind. He didn't like transgender athletes competing because he thought it was unfair. He thought he knew the evidence (boys are taller than girls, I guess was his evidence) and made his determination. I showed him the interviews of cis female athletes with high testosterone that were barred from running track events and the debunking of that one girl who claimed to be the fastest girl in Connecticut or what the fuck ever and he changed his mind.

You can't fight crazy with logic.

Some beliefs, however, are not based in logic. There's no logic to the q-annoners who think that JFK faked his death or that Trump is sending them mysterious messages to decode through his tweets (or whatever they call his not-twitter bigot platform messages). There is no number of interviews and well-researched articles I can show them that can make them change their mind. Their beliefs are rooted in this fear that they're losing the protection that their whiteness grants them, fear that progress is already happening and leaving them behind. Their fear is not valid but it is a real emotion.

Anyway, I hate when American leftists automatically write conservatives off as stupid or act like ignorance is a permanent state of being. Not only is it arrogant to think that leftists are the only people who are able to think critically about things, but it also isn't true and it's completely discounting the thought processes of approximately half the country (not even considering the thoughts of conservatives all over the world). There are a lot of people out there whose conservative beliefs stem from logic, and the best way to begin change is to fight their logic with more logic. Is showing my dad a video about how fucked up the asylum process is in the US going to make him share my beliefs about the fact that no human is illegal (especially on stolen land)? Maybe not, but it is the first step for sure. Not doing this first step because you believe that all conservatives are irredeemably stupid is not helping anyone or any cause.

I'm not saying that this will work with the q-annoners because you can't fight crazy with logic. They need something else, whether that's community or deprogramming, I'm genuinely not sure. But I think that thinking all people that don't share your viewpoints are automatically illogical isn't helping anything at all

[callmearcturus]

wait do we need to apply for the loan forgiveness? is there's a deadline?

Okay, anon.

One: It's not the best idea to ask a stranger on the internet about something this serious. You should wait for further instruction from the DOE and specifically the Student Aid government website. But do not wait on the instructions from a person on tumblr.

Two: okay but I have looked into this and what we currently know is

There will be more information in the coming weeks on the logistics of this.

If you are reporting your income information to the federal government, usually by doing your taxes, and they have that info on record, this may be automatic.

If you don't report that (as many poor people do not, especially unhoused and unemployed people who don't expect refunds) the DOE will set up an application specifically for this that allows you to report your income to them and indicate you want your loan forgiveness.

Note this only counts for federally-held loans. Biden can't really do anything from his desk about personal or third party loans (which is why IMO if a college tries to pressure you towards those you should fucking bail on them and go elsewhere), but if you are a low income borrower, you probably were using federally-held loans.

July 2022 is the cutoff for this forgiveness, so if you just started classes, this doesn't apply to you, but the changes to the payment system will and they will absolutely help you going forward.

Student Aid Dot Gov, bookmark it and keep checking there for details.

But yeah don't take anything I say as gospel and do your own research, especially if they affects you.

[dhaaruni]

Have you read Lockhart's Lament? It's a pretty thorough skewering of how we teach and conceive of math in our society that I thought was pretty interesting, and I was curious what you, as someone who enjoys math, would feel about it.

I will warn you that gets a little dismissive of people that find success in math in our current system, but I don't think you're quite what's being described there, and that's not the reason I'm asking you - just wanted to give you a heads up so you didn't feel attacked out of the blue.

No I haven't read it, and I won't do it because I think it'll just make me angry lol.

I've always been really annoyed by the western disdain for mathematics, and I'm renewedly angry about it due to the extreme and quite frankly racist backlash to Rishi Sunak's proposal to make mathematics mandatory through secondary school, and not just because I personally happen to be extremely good with numbers.

Not everybody is good at math and not everybody has to be, but the contemporary cultural zeitgeist is dominated by people who not only can't take an integral but have decided that their personal failure of not being able to take an integral means that anybody who can is automatically some pathetically boring automaton. I'm not very good at physics, but that doesn't mean that everybody who can correctly apply the right-hand rule is inferior to me, you know?

Another underdiscussed point to anti-math propaganda is also that people who are good at math often end up with more lucrative jobs than those who aren't good at math, and there's a lot of tension there. Plus, a lot of white liberals are REALLY mad that immigrants and the children of immigrants, namely Asian ones, are able to build successful lives for themselves and their families through working hard and well, being good at math, so that's why they're so hell bent on like, making it difficult to take calculus in public schools and abolishing standardized test requirements for college.

All I'm saying is that there's a reason that since 2016, Asian-Americans have shifted right (although most still vote Democrat) and this is exactly why.

[funkymbtifiction]

Hi Charity! I've been into Enneagram for a while and rn I'm second guessing if I'm really a 9 or a 6.

A lot of times my actions are driven by fear. Don't ask me to choose where we'll eat, what if everyone hates the place I pick and starts to hate me because of it? What if everyone thinks of me as someone with bad taste after it? When I wanted to switch majors in college I asked all my loved ones what they thought I should do, not because I was genuinely indecisive, but because I needed to know no one would hate me if I chose what I truly wanted. I don't really go out of my way to people please, like I would never choose a restaurant or a major I hate just to please someone else, but I often throw the responsibility into them (e.g making them choose the food and saying "I don't want that" if they choose something I don't like)...

All of this seems more 9 than 6. "What if people hate me" is 9. 6s are scrappier, and will cause trouble. They aren't as afraid of being disliked by their loved ones as a 9, who would consider that a horrible thing. (6s don't LIKE to be disliked, but they usually feel safe enough with loved ones to be super opinionated, questioning, suspicious, and somewhat assertive, even with a 9 fix.)

If someone like my dad didn't want me to switch majors, I still would do what I want (albeit I'd feel a little bad about it) because I know he wouldn't hate me for it. I think this fear of being hated stems from being a lonely kid and a bullying victim in my teenage years, but I also think I deal with it well. I don't let it take over my life and still do whatever I want to and whatever will be the best for me. This whole paragraph is the reason I think I might be a 6 core.

So 9. "Tell me what you think, but I'm gonna do what I want anyway. Just checking." You're not really indecisive, you just don't want conflict with those closest to you.

As for 9, I really relate to being numb. For me the best solution to a problem is to pretend it doesn't exist until I have to face it. I will think about it sometimes and dread the moment I will have to make a decision, but later I'll just bury it again and decide it is a problem for future me.

Yup, 9. 6s can't forget it exists. It looms in their mind until they deal with it, even if they can ignore it for a time. It nags at them.

I completely zone out when going through a tough time and start living in automatic mode, and how my primary coping mechanism for conflicts is ignoring it and never saying a thing because having an argument or a deep conversation would drain me too much.

Yup. 9. "Arguments are draining"... a 9 way of thinking.

(Just as an aside, I am a 9-fixed 6 and I start arguments all the time. So much so that my mother, who is a 1w9 and hates arguments, gets on me for "constantly causing trouble." Arguments are somewhat stimulating, lol.)

Sometimes I even start the conversation thinking "this time I'll be better and assertive so this person knows what I feel" but when then it takes more than 3 texts (can't bear to do it in person) and I'm like "oh god why did I even bother???".

9. Giving up too soon, it requires too much effort, etc.

The numbness also applies to physical situations. If I'm listening to music and doing another thing at the same time, my brain just turns the music off and I can't hear it anymore. I don't drive so if I'm in the passenger seat I usually have no idea where we are nor how did we get there nor how to go back because I didn't pay attention. Everyone says I have to build my sense of direction but I just can't. I also don't have many goals in life. I really wanted to be these digital influencers 3 stereotypes that thrive in social situations and glamour and parties but I have no energy for that. I just want to live my silly little life with my silly little things in the least draining way.

I want the least draining life possible, with no resistance - 9.

[timextoxhajima]

Nevertheless: Wishful Thinking [3]

[completed] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

synopsis: why would the college flirt want anything to do with the innocent heartbreaker? a [somewhat] nevertheless au featuring tbz's eric son young jae

genre [per chapter]: suggestive material, smut *this series is a smut series so* please don't read if you're uncomfy. if you're underaged and you still wanna read, i'm not stopping you. i don't care because that's your responsibility to know what's fiction and what's not.

word count: i genuinely don't fucking know i think it's at least 4k WHY THE FUCK IS IT GETTING LONG ERJSJSJSJDNAKD

taglist: @from-xero @taeyongandfree @ten-gift @louvyves @sweetutopia @yyyereum @jung-breadshop @sunwoowuvbot @mashedpotittiess

protip: links of BGM are linked~

{this is a work of fiction}

eric swipes his thumb across his bottom lip and drags his index finger over the tip of his nose, tongue still sucking on his teeth as if it hadn't already been a day.

he was sitting on the other side of the tutorial room and you just so happened sat in a spot where he was the first person in your view when you looked up.

stupid hexagonal tables.

the moisture in your mouth suddenly evaporates, leaving your tongue dry like sandpaper against the roof of your mouth.

the lustful blanket over his eyes threaten to rip your mentality apart, and even without him touching you, the heat in your abdomen starts to clench and throb.

the thought crosses your mind, just so you can convince yourself: if eric can associate himself with sex within your primal instincts then the brain that got you here can associate him with a big, fucking, red flag.

you suck in a deep breath and hold it for awhile, eyes plastered to the ipad under your palms. crossing your legs tightly, your jeans hug your hips and waist all too perfectly.

yujeong had smacked one of her baseball friends earlier that day for staring at your legs.

after the likes of wooseok's party and the incident yesterday, you made it an effort not to show up in dresses or skirts anymore. call it ptsd, call it trauma, call it not wanting to get into trouble.

whatever it was, you didn't want eric anywhere near you.

well, despite how good he mad-

"can you stop eye-fucking him from across the room?" yujeong harshly whispers at you, glaring at you from the corner of her eyes.

"what?" throwing your tied-up hair to your other shoulder, you tilt your face to her.

"what do you mean 'what'?" yujeong hisses, nodding to the boy across the room. "y'all are fucking in your heads!"

"yes, broadcast it to the entire class, would you, please?" the sarcasm drips off your tongue with a frown.

"I'm just saying if you want him so bad then just go get a room. fucks' sake, go find a practice room or something."

"i think I'll go with 'or something'."

and in that second, your iPad lights up with a notification from the school email account.

yujeong parts her lips with a retort, but you quickly shush her by pressing a finger to your lips when the professor seemed to glance over at the two of you.

she inhales a deep breath, spotting the notification pop up on her laptop screen too.

to: all students

from: the college union

title: dance union winter getaway

dear students,

every year, more than 200 students apply for the dance union but only 20 are accepted. thus, it is of high regard that the members of the dance union utilise the annual winter getaway to bond.

this year's event will be held at lake white. all students in the dance union with leadership positions are expected to be present and those with valid reasons of absence are required to fill up the form attached to this email.

if you're interested in joining the dance union, please apply in the first week of the new academic year. applications open first week of the semester.

regards,

the student union

staring wide-eyed at the email with your apple pencil trembling in your fingers, you gulp.

fuck.

yujeong's lowly snicker sounds from next to you, and you look to her, only to watch a bright smile stretch across her face.

"what?" she snorts, tears in her eyes. "don't look at me. look at your captain."

your neck snaps to the boy across the room, who's got his phone lifted with the screen displaying the email page. he waves it around a little, raising a brow with a menacing shimmer flashing across his eyes.

your blood begins to boil without reason.

why were you suddenly stuck to him? it's like the planets and stars aligned just so he glue himself to you; so he could ruin your title and rip you apart, inch by inch.

your fists clench around the apple pencil, and you're only snapped out of your inner rage when the professor calls on you.

yujeong leans into the lockers with her books against her chest, mindlessly scrolling through her phone as you go on incessantly about the student union's decision to make it mandatory.

you swing the locker door so hard that it bounces off its limit and nearly comes back down onto your hands, but you stop it before it does.

"how does the fucking winter getaway improve our bonds?" you hurl a textbook into the locker. "it's not like we're gonna sit in a circle and sing hallelujah, right?"

"you went for that getaway last year-"

"yeah, and we did nothing besides getting shitfaced! fuck this stupid winter getaway."

"sis, say that any louder and your 'innocent heartbreaker' image is gonna change into something more like 'brutal heartbreaker'."

"don't fucking call me that," you hurl another book into your locker. "and why does everybody talk like that nowadays? 'say that any louder'? where was that from? a movie? a tiktok?"

"why are you so on edge?" yujeong pushes herself off the metal doors and frowns. "you've been on edge ever since wooseok's party."

"i am always on edge."

"what?" yujeong pulls her lips up into a slight wince as her eyes half into squints. "bullshit. what happened to your little 'innocent heartbr-"

"don't," you lift a finger, shutting your eyes and stopping her. "say another word."

yujeong raises both her brows, smirk plastered to her face as she readjusts her bag. "don't worry."

you look up at her, placing the last item in your locker.

"i don't have to."

"what?"

"so," then that godforsaken voice rings from behind you, and all your physical senses start to shut down one by one.

yujeong sees right past it, smirk turning into something less devious as she puffs her cheeks.

"about the winter getaway."

"i'll leave the two of you at it."

"what? no-"

"bye!"

"yujeong-"

she turns and strides off, short hair lathered around her neck. she waves with a bright grin, leaving you to back face the vicious heartbreaker.

you remain rooted to the ground, locker door wide open and bag slung around your right shoulder. eric waits until yujeong disappears down the hall, leaving a few other students within the vicinity to turn and stare at the two infamous dance captains.

eric walks to your side, reaching out and resting his palm on the outer edge of your locker.

"we're in open space," he smiles, gradually pushing the locker door inwards and closing it for you. then he rests his palm against the metal door, sandwiching you again. "there's not much i can do to you."

a few students turn to stare.

"unless you want me to."

"stop it."

"stop what?" he smirks and buckles his arms, forcing you to lay your back flat against the metal surface. "I'm not doing anything."

"then what are you doing now?" you frown and look up at him, knuckles whitening around your bag straps.

"having a conversation."

someone fishes a phone out, and the flashlight flickers.

eric whirls around, keeping his arm anchored to the locker.

"stand down, kid."

"sorry," he fumbles with the phone, and now you'll never know if he actually took a picture.

"anyway-"

"look, i don't know what kind of game you're playing but this isn't healthy for us if we are supposed to work together. especially with the winter getaway coming up."

eric licks his lips and lowers his head, smiling at the sudden cast of professionalism.

"it flatters me that you don't care too much about having fucked outside of wooseok's garage-"

"eric-"

"nor getting fucked out in the practice room-"

"eric-"

"or even the fact that you tied up your hair today-"

"i tie up my hair whenever i fucking want to."

"ooh," eric winces at the snap, his pearly whites glimmering under the lighting. "the 'innocent heartbreaker' is angry!"

"will you shut the fuck up?"

"aw," he coos, leaning into you and breathing down your philtrum. "make me."

your fists finally clench, jaws locked and temples tightened.

"I'll rip off your dick if you touch me again. now, back off."

you press your palms flat into his chest and shove him away, breaking him into light chuckles as he stumbles back.

you pull your bag back onto your shoulder, turning sharply and stomping off.

"hey! we still need to meet up to discuss the plans for lake white!"

the scent of half-painted canvases with acrylic paint washes through your nose when you enter your room.

it's definitely bigger than what a normal room should look like, but it's not your fault that both your parents work under Lee Enterprises, the country's telemarketing company.

the studio corner of your room is in a mess, and you're just halfway done painting the edges of your mirror.

which for specific reasons, you can't really look at it anymore.

the peculiar object you chose to decorate the glass surface hang idly on the corner of the frame, reflecting the afternoon sun spilling into the room.

eric son: so when do we discuss the plans for lake white?

eric son: i don't like to procrastinate

"'discuss the plans for lake white'," mumbling under your breath, you dump your bag into the corner of your room, huffing and resting your hands on your hips. "he's the damn captain, isn't he? he can do it on his own."

notification: acrylic paint to be delivered today

your phone automatically links up with the bluetooth speaker in the room, and you mindlessly tap on the shuffle button before pulling off your shoes.

eric son: okay so I'm thinking groups of four

you pull off your jacket and let the ends of your ponytail brush across your back where the camisole doesn't cover, cool air rushing across the hairs on your skin.

eric son: we can play truth or dare

the bass rumbles through the flooring as you pull off your jeans, throwing on one of those open-holed shorts that no one was ever going to see you in - not even yujeong.

the doorbell rings, yanking you out of your mental rage session over eric son.

acrylic paint.

picking up a cardigan and tying it around your waist, you jog down the stairs and pull open the door without hesitation.

She's just that type of girl

"what. in the world. are you doing here?"

eric tilts his head to the side, his eyes running the length of your body - all the way down to your feet and back up.

"you weren't replying my texts so i thought-" then he raises both hands from his sides, taking a step back and gesturing to your front porch like he owned it. "what better way to have your presence than to go to you?"

"how do you know where i live?" a frown befalls your brows, and your grip tightens on the door handle.

"it's in the school records for student leaders," he offers you a smug shrug, taking a step back to where he was previously standing.

your lips part in an attempt to challenge his explanation, but then he waves it off with a cheeky snicker. "I'm joking. yujeong told me."

"now, why the fuck would she give you my address?"

"hey, captain to captain! plus she knows i won't hurt you."

a scoff runs off your tongue. "you want me to believe that you won't hurt me?"

eric's tongue darts across his lips as he leans on the door frame. "not in your house. oh, i wouldn't dare, princess."

with a huff, you blink away the eye contact first, taking a step back and tugging on the door. "don't fucking call me that."

but his hand flies out and thuds against the wood, keeping the door open. he slowly steps forward, letting himself in.

"then what should i call you?"

"names exist," you step back and grip onto the empty arms of your cardigan around your waist. he closes the door, pulling the chain to lock it.

"then do you prefer y/n or 'innocent heartbreaker'?"

you squint at him, cocking your face at an angle as you back up again.

the answer settles in your head, but you can't say it out loud.

because he's already debunked it.

She's just that type of girl

"fun playlist," eric nods up the stairs, arm stretching out to you and snaking around your waist.

"don't fucking touch me-"

then his other hand circles you as well, his arms around you as he holds you to him, lowering his face into yours. an arching back tries to keep his face off yours, but any more and your spine would've snapped into two.

his nose presses into your cheek as he slots his lips between yours, and the world goes into a muffled silence for a few seconds.

or maybe that was just your playlist moving on.

your nails dig the inside of your clenched palm, fists against his chest as he pulls you up to deepen the kiss, lips moving with yours in some intricate dance of dominance.

on beat with the distant bass coming from your room.

he lets out the first groan, his hands gradually sliding down your back and groping the flesh of your rear that's poking out from under your shorts.

the harsh grip squeezes a whimper out from you, your entire body cringing forward into him and closing the gap between you. with one palm still holding onto your ass, the other comes back up in between your shoulder blades, keeping your chest plastered to his.

eric turns you around, holding you against the wall that leads up to the stairs. your back is flat against the surface, hair stuck to the felt of the wall with your thigh being pulled up over his pelvis.

We should just calm down and fuck some time

then he pulls away and huffs, lips hung wide open and his eyes completely lost in yours. in a low growl, subtly shakes his head as if to disapprove your disobedience against the song lyrics.

"oh, we fucking should."

eric doesn't bother waiting for a response before dipping his nose into your jaw, lips latching onto the tender skin of your neck.

"you coming here-" a jolt of bliss rushes through you when he finds a tender spot, his arms tightening around your waist to keep you close and against the wall. "-was not an invitation-"

the cologne on his clothes starts to intoxicate you like alcohol does to any normal person, the scent of his hair and his clothes wafting and shuffling all around you.

"but you don't hate me being here, do you, princess?" he mumbles into your skin, nipping at the spot behind your lobe. your eyes flutter shut, fists clenching against his shoulder blades.

"come on," he whispers. "we've done it outside and in a practice room, surely you must feel more comfortable in your own bed?"

your eyes widen upon the suggestion, the thought of that cursed object hanging over the corner of your mirror in the room suddenly pulling your soul back into your body.

"no, we can't."

eric pulls away from you, lips reddened from the nipping. they are apart, and his breathing slows as he studies your face.

the panic in your eyes is far too grave for him to miss.

"why not?"

gulp.

"you don't happen to-"

"it's not a vibrator."

eric raises his brows, caging you between his arms as he corners you further, chest on yours and his lips right above your lashes.

"perhaps a-"

"it's not a dildo either."

he pouts in slight disappointment when he can hear the stark honesty in your voice.

his chest rises and lowers under his shirt, listening to your breathing that hitches in your throat every now and then; observing your discipline to keep your eyes away from him.

"you're not gonna tell me what it is?"

glaring at him through the corner of your eye, you shake your head with a resounding 'no'.

he pauses.

then he leans into your ear.

"you being scared is just making me a little more curious, princess."

"curiosity kills the cat."

eric pulls away and slides his arms off the wall. "cats have 9 lives."

the number of sirens that go off in your head spikes, and before you can process his words, he grabs your arm and pulls you onto his shoulder.

"oh my god!" his arm wraps around your lower back, knees against his chest and the world from your eyes upside down as he hoists you up the stairs. "put me down, jesus christ!"

"the more you yell, the more you're gonna regret it, princess," he warns while chuckling to himself. "what could it be, if it's not a dildo or a vibrator?"

then the warmth of his palm reaches up to your shorts, and his fingers dig under the cloth of your underwear.

"fuck, eric-"

all too easily, he pushes a finger into you, your entire body cringing from the sudden intrusion. your eyes blur out just as he makes it to the second floor, and he doesn't need to ask which door he should be heading to.

not when your door has a framed portrait of yourself from last year's concert.

the door creaks open when he pushes the two of you into your room, greeting the sunlight drawn across the floor and his finger still buried inside you.

you heave a sigh when he pulls his finger out and shoves it into his mouth, leaning over your bed to rest you into the cushion.

automatically, his eyes are on high alert, scanning your room. but by the time you've regained your senses and the blood's returned to the rest of your body from your head, he finds it.

resting on the back of your forearms, your breath turns shakey and your eyes twitching from the sight of it dangling off his fingers.

eric turns to look at the mirror, turning the item in his fingers to match the painting of it on the edges.

"so," he returns to you, raising a cocky brow and smirking. "you get high off painting handcuffs on your mirror?"

you tightly shut your eyes as the frown cements into your forehead.

"fuck."

eric scoffs, tongue dragging across his upper lip as he walks towards you and lifts a knee to your bed, the other following.

"this really makes me question how you even got your reputation," eric jingles it from his fingers, his free hand reaching down to draw circles on your right ankle.

"it's just acrylic paint. i paint something new every month-"

"and so your choice for november was... handcuffs?" he wraps his hot fingers around your ankle and yanks you downwards, your crotch nearly meeting his knees.

"it's not my fault you decided to play this game the month i decided to get something remotely inappropriate."

"'remotely inappropriate'," eric repeats, smiling as he lowers himself. the handcuff still within his right hand, his left draws trails up your right leg, playing with the rim of your shorts where they were already riled up enough to expose a bit of your underwear. "so, tell me princess. why did you choose this-"

he holds it up and jingles it over your nose. "to paint?"

"surely it's not because it's pretty."

"or maybe you think it'll look pretty around your wrists?"

eric reaches for your hands and you struggle upon instinct, he pins your dominant hand down first and clips the first cuff around your wrist.

"eric-"

he finds your free hand and connects both your wrists, clipping the other cuff despite your struggling.

eric sucks a deep breath, then parts his lips to exhale. pushing himself off you, he pulls your shorts off first, eyes trailing across every inch of your body with your wrists cuffed together.

the thoughts wash through you involuntarily.

the wooden planks. the dress. the torn underwear.

the mirror. the fogging. the skirt.

the tears collect in the corners of your eyes even before he can completely get it off your ankles.

then he pulls your legs apart for him to lock them in place with his own thighs, crouching over your body like a lion devouring his prey.

he pushes your arms up and above your head, making it difficult for you to bring them back down with your wrists bound together.

his breath is hot on your chest where he first dips his nose into, tongue swiping across the skin of your heaving ribs. hands coming up your waist and pushing them up your torso, it exposes your ribcage and bra.

inch by inch, he breaths down the length of your torso, from your chest and over to your stomach with your camisole rolled up messily over your bra.

upon reaching the rim of your underwear (and heaving stomach as you pant and huff in a bid to calm your nerves), he stops and looks up at you.

"thank god you rejected wooseok."

then both his hands come down to your chest to rip apart your camisole, pulling it out from under you before he unbuckles your bra.

you swallow the first whimper already on the tip of your tongue, but your stomach plunges and your back arches violently when he takes the tip of your breast between his lips.

left hand coming round to grip your other, his right travels down to play with your sensitivity, forcing your body into subtle jolts with the overwhelming sensation.

he tugs on your tip, grazing it between his teeth before releasing it and latching his lips onto the tender flesh in a bid to make his mark.

your brows finally furrow into a frown of bliss, jaw hung agape though struggling to contain the lewd noises prancing about in the back of your throat.

he rolls the other tip between his index finger and thumb, sucking and kissing the reddening flesh of your chest.

and down below, he's pushed your underwear aside, thumb abusing your sensitivity and buckling your hips upwards.

he provides you one sharp bite on your tip, earning a strained hiss from between your teeth. it feeds his pride, for he removes himself off you completely and stares down at you, admiring the painting he's made on your chest.

hickeys.

grip marks.

and the wet patch on your underwear between your legs.

he turns and shifts off the bed, leaving you to catch your breath and cross your legs over one another.

the clacking about in your studio corner drives the tears into your eyes, listening to the lid of the box where you keep your paint come off.

you shut your eyes, resigning to fate.

for your body is in burning need and the discipline to go against his word has betrayed you.

you hear his belt come undone, the weight of his clothes hitting the carpeted ground before the mattress around your legs sink again.

"oh... princess~" he sings, coaxing you out of your mental begging that this was just a nightmare.

a corner drags across your stomach, and your eyes fly open to see his fingers wrapped around a bottle of acrylic paint, completely oblivious to him pulling your underwear off your legs.

black.

the only color that was still relatively abundant.

then the sight of his nudity drives you up a wall inside your head; better yet, driving your resignation up against your own skull.

the lines of his pelvic bone leading down to his manhood all for your eyes to feast on, and even if you wanted to look away, you couldn't.

fuck.

"listen to me very carefully, princess..." he shakes the bottle, then proceeds to unscrew the cap. "I'm sure you don't want any of these on your bed, right?"

chills run through your body when he tilts the bottle over, squeezing the paint onto his palms.

"so," he blinks back to you, eyes wide and cautious. "my advice?"

and with that, he carefully caps the bottle, effortlessly tossing it over his shoulder and back into the box.

he presses his palms together, spreading the paint across his skin.

"don't move too much."

with a wide grin, he smudges the paint into your thighs and up your stomach, sliding the paint all the way to your breasts where he offers a harsh grip.

he doesn't give you a chance to respond to that before he slides himself into you, your neediness allowing him entrance far too easily.

by now, your body was somewhat conditioned to recognise his size, but the idea of him buried deep inside you and his groaning coating the room makes you a little more feral; a little more insane.

the whimper that runs off your tongue is mercilessly lapped up by him when he leans over to kiss you, tongue shoved into your mouth in a bid to shut you up.

he rolls his hips back and forth, unwilling to stop and definitely unwilling to give you any kind of mercy when it comes to making you lose your grip on reality.

he pulls away and resumes an upright position, abs flexed and his palms still gripping onto your chest like his life depended on it.

but eric seems to be a little on edge himself, for this was his first time seeing all of you under him, instead of your humility covered by a dress or a skirt and worrying about being caught in school.

no.

now, he can feast his eyes on you like the predator he is.

not only does he decide to leave his own marks, but marks that you gave him access to.

his handprints are black on your skin and the entire bed is jerking along with every thrust he's offering you.

you finally let out a strained cry, tears collecting in your eyes with the bliss rushing through you over and over again like a broken record. eric's breath turns shaky, and his grip on you begins to loosen when his thighs start to convulse.

by some miracle, the last thrust hits your climax and he pulls out almost immediately after to coat the paint on your stomach with himself.

cream on black.

eric huffs arrogantly, taking deep breaths to retain his breathing as he releases you, stepping back to take in the sight of you in your own bed, ruined by him.

"you definitely look pretty in cuffs."

[dreamii-yume]

I've had an idea in my head for quite a while! What about Cater using you all he can for his birthday? You can't deny him either! You don't want to make the birthday boy sad, do you? He'd film everything as well! Threatening to upload it to Magicam if you don't do as he says.

- 🍑

Let’s start off with some spicy blackmail for our birthday boi~ (ง ื▿ ื)ว

“Oh~ That’s good pose, (Y/N)-chan! Look a little more to the right, here!”

Holding his phone in a horizontal manner, Cater tilted his upper body to get that perfect angle he wanted. You awkwardly shifted from your position, waiting for him to get a shot as you looked away in embarrassment. “Ah! Come on, don’t look away all shy like that~! It’s cute though, but it doesn’t feel right~” You flinched as you quickly went back to glance at the lens of his phone, your face blooming redder by the second.

“T-Take the shot already…” You barely mumbled out with your voice coming out a lot weaker than you would’ve wanted. You knew he was utilizing his time here, trying to savor the moment, but resulting in you becoming more and more humiliated by the second…I mean, how could you not? When this birthday boy just ordered you to go down on your knees right between his legs, and basically gave you the permission to jerk him off. It’s his own perverted way of a gift, yet you could only puff your cheeks at it.

Cater gave nothing but a chuckle. “Now, now…It takes time to get that perfection, Cupcake~” He taunted, his eyes sparkling at the sight of you through his phone screen. His responses seemed distracted, you figured it must be because he’s so lost on his own world right now. Well, of course he’s applying this much focus on you right now; The way you nervously hold his cock in your hands and letting it poke against your warm cheeks, it’s simply enticing. No matter which place he holds the camera at, each angle is just unbearably adorable that it’s just impossible to take one shot. “Hey, why don’t you stick out your tongue for me, Darling?”

You let out a slight whine, keeping your mouth shut into a straight line as a form of rejection, stubborn as you can be. Still, it wasn’t enough for Cater to rethink his choice, having your tongue out just above his cock would definitely increase your cuteness level! “Hm~? Is that a no?” He hummed in a mocking manner; it made your stomach churn in response. The feeling of regret bubbles in. “That’s too bad…I guess we can still go with a livestream then! What do you say? Let’s livestream this event on Magicam!”

You gulped. “I just can’t decide on a good shot, you see! Maybe if I let everyone see your current state, they’ll be able to help me? Cay-kun is quite popular, you see~!” He said with a cheerful smile, but his eyes look down on you with dark intentions, making you feel as if there’s a loaded gun right at the back of your skull. His fingers began to fiddle with his phone screen, filling you with dread especially when you can’t see which buttons he was pressing. What if he was already livestreaming all this time and you just haven’t realized…!? “Let’s title this with…”The Prefect of Night Raven College’s Adorable Birthday Gift to Cay-kun”! Then-“

With a huffing whimper and frustrated tears building up on the side of your eyes, you opened your quavering mouth and stuck out your tongue like he asked. Cater stopped with a victorious smirk on his face before laughing, you felt his cock twitched in your hand. “Aw, you poor thing~! Getting all flustered like that…” He said, reaching out to your face to wipe away those tiny tears, before studying your facial features. “Hm…So cute…”

He slipped his thumb on the side of your mouth, widening the gap before a truly smug smile followed right after. You widened your eyes with a squeak as he moved his cock right at the entrance “…Now, I want you to take this all in your mouth. All of it.” He smiled sweetly with a small giggle.

There’s nothing that you could really do here, your words are useless against him when he literally has the power to ruin you with a click of a button. Covering it up as a birthday gift didn’t really mean anything at all, he could’ve done this at a normal day and he’d still have that power. After much mental deliberation with yourself, you eventually moved to lean in closer and do as he say, opening your mouth wider to accommodate his girth. “Mm…That’s a good girl…” He said in a gentle whisper, moving his hand to pat your head as a form of motivation. His breath seems shaky, now that he’s feeling all sensitive with how warm you feel on the inside. “…You can move now.”

And so, you did, not having any other choice in the matter. Your actions were a bit clumsy, but you provided a warm and comforting feeling every time you bobbed your head to swallow him whole. The way your tongue would slide up and down his shaft, your saliva sticking to his skin like a protective layer. Cater couldn’t help but be amused as he noticed that you were actually learning fast, curiously exploring your options to deliver pleasure without even noticing it yourself. Cater was glad that he decided to secretly record this whole event, not to livestream or to post anywhere, but for himself to daydream again and again in the near future.

He let out a slight breathy chuckle and kept the fact for himself, however he would be lying if he said that he expected you to adapt this quickly. Honestly, your hands would automatically pump his dick slightly while you nibble and suck on his head, your hot breathing lingering against him was enough to stimulate him faster than he would’ve liked. Before Cater knew it, he just found himself to be the one moaning out loud as you fastened your pace. He mentally cursed as he just overestimated his endurance and his hand, which was sitting on top of your head, was beginning to add pressure to have you engulf him deeper and longer. “Nngh…(Y/N)-chan…You’re really good at this, huh…” He giggled, like an intoxicated individual, a drool slipped out on the side of his mouth in process. “More…Cay-kun wants more, (Y/N)-chan…!”

You heard him and to your surprise, your body was more than willing to grant his request as you felt a surge of motivation flowing in you and you began to suck him faster. Throwing his head back, Cater was unable to hold himself back anymore and with a euphoric smile, he gripped your head and pulled you out. His thick, white semen came bursting out of his slit like that of a firework and landing everywhere, mainly on you. You closed your eyes, feeling some liquid all over your face and mouth, eventually dripping down your cheeks like slime. “A-Ah…” You moaned slightly, slowly opening your eyes only to shut them off immediately as bright white flash suddenly slipped into your vision. Clearing your mind soon took the realization in you that after so long, Cater finally took that one perfect photo he wanted, and you weren’t even ready! You wondered how it look but seeing how your senior stares at his phone with that lovesick look on his face made you rethink otherwise.

Maybe that picture should really just be for his eyes.

“Aah~! This is perfect! It’s a completely stolen shot and you still look so cute!” He admired the photo, exhaustion doesn’t seem to have any effect on him even after his initial release, but trails of sweat drops down from his forehead. “Plus, my cum makes you look like you’re covered in whip cream instead! I guess pulling out was really the correct choice, good job me~!”

Squealing like a little girl, Cater finally took noticed of your pouting self and merely smiled brightly at you. “And good job to you too, (Y/N)-chan! You’re such a Sweetheart!” He said as leaned forward and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. “You really made Cay-kun’s birthday so much fun! Thank you~!”

You averted your eyes to the side and gave him a twitching smile. “Uuh…Y-Yeah, whatever you say…” You said, paling at the thought that you actually wouldn’t have agreed to this if he hadn’t blackmailed you in the first place. The senior seemed to be too distracted with his own enthusiasm to notice your salty attitude, but you had an underlying that he does notice, he just doesn’t want to acknowledge it. You ended up sighing in depravity in the end whilst hugging him back, you quietly click your tongue as a plan to have your revenge later…When you’re sure that those pictures won’t accidentally fall to some shady website that is.

Cater melts a little long in your touch before forcing himself to pull away and flashed you a wide smile. “Well then, I’m expecting our date in that one super photogenic café this Saturday, yeah~?” He said as you looked back to him, blinking. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I don’t take my girlfriend out somewhere nice?”

Then it hits you like a truck. “Wait…G-Girlfriend…!? Boyfriend!?”

With your panicking self, Cater tilted his head to the side, feigning innocence. “Hm~? That’s right. I mean, it’s just common sense for us to be in a proper relationship after doing that, you know?” He said with a shy blush, but still gave an evil smile in the end, making you gulp down a very bad feeling. Especially as proceeded he pulled out his phone with the recent picture of you covered in his seed, making you squeak in fear. “After all, you wouldn’t want this coming out so soon, right?”

“So, you better bet that we’re going to be stepping up a higher level than this, Sweetheart~!”

[cambriancrew]

We Crew have depression, anxiety, and PTSD. All three are fairly well controlled now. But we still HAVE them. There's still tendencies we have to watch out for, triggers we need to make sure we don't expose ourselves to overmuch or when we're especially tired or emotional or otherwise in a vulnerable state of mind.

We have a good job, family and friends we care about and who care about us, we're in the process of applying for college now that we finally know what we want to do for a living for the rest of our lives and are again in a fairly stable living situation. Plenty of people see us and say things like, "You're such a happy, chill person, I can't see you as having depression."

We have to keep up with our self care. We choose to put on a cheery demeanor - acting happy makes us feel genuinely happier. We take care to avoid anxiety-inducing and triggery situations.

All that work makes us functional, but it's still work. It still takes effort to maintain. If we stop maintaining, everything goes downhill fairly quickly.

We are healthy and functional despite having several disabling conditions.

Not so with our plurality. We are healthy and functional AND plural, not despite being plural.

There's nothing with it that we have to work at, no more than the normal amount we have to work at maintaining and growing any healthy interpersonal relationship.

Being told we must be inherently dysfunctional and that we're just grossed out by the idea of being dysfunctional, is mind boggling. Is it dysfunctional to have external family and friends and coworkers and acquaintances you're friendly with? If not, why is it automatically so when those people share a body and brain with you?

We don't have any major upkeep we have to do, not aside from literally normal interpersonal things. With our depression, we have to do self-care above and beyond the normal amount of things people have to do to maintain their health and wellbeing. And it takes a significant amount of effort.

There's nothing out of the ordinary that we need to watch out for or avoid with our system. We don't have generally dissociative tendencies to watch out for, we don't have significant memory issues, we don't have major interpersonal issues among us, literally nothing that detracts from our mental and physical wellbeing beyond what's easily explainable by our depression, anxiety, and PTSD and taken care of by handling those.

If we had DID/OSDD, even if we had achieved a high level of functionality despite it, there would still be things we'd need to watch out for. Things we'd need to do to maintain our health and wellbeing. Just like we do with our depression, etc. Because that's what it's like to have a mental illness and still be able to function despite it.

But because we don't — and indeed rather the opposite: being plural makes it significantly easier to manage our depression, etc — it is therefore not a disorder for us.

To insist otherwise is just false.

Just as false as it would be to look at the normal amount of effort — actually probably significantly less than normal — amount of effort we put into maintaining our relationship with our partner, whose love and support and help also makes our depression, etc, easier to manage, and insisting that the relationship is inherently dysfunctional.

Our mental illnesses are challenges we have to overcome.

Our plurality is not a challenge. It's a large part of what enables us to handle the things that ARE challenges with confidence.

[virgilfingsanders]

3:38

TW: Death, Gore, mentions of getting stabbed.

Couple: Analogical

Prompt: Person B (Virgil) knowing they're going to die from blood lose thanks to the gaping wound they're bleeding from. They call Person A (Logan) and have a casual conversation, telling them they love them one last time, instead of calling for help.

~~~

To Virgil, there was something unGodly about the timeframe 2 to 4 am. There always had been, starting when he was a teenage who stayed up to late on Tumblr and Instagram, and, he assumed, their always would be. Now 26, Virgil had an valid reason to be up from 2 to 4 am: Plan B, the high end night club in the middle of the city, wasn't going to run itself, and Virgil would hardly let all his hard work be for nothing, regardless of how anxious he is. Sure, owning a Club wasn't a 'Picture Perfect' job, but if Virgil didn't do it, then who would?

Certainly not people like his husband, Logan, who was a College Professor. Not that Virgil minded his husbands Job, but it often made it a struggle to spend any time together. Virgil needed to be at Plan B on the weekends, when Logan was off, and Logan left for the day around the time Virgil got home. But they had a way of making it work. Logan didn't have classes on Monday, and Virgil never worked Wednesday's, somehow making their less than ideal schedules work perfectly.

Maybe that's why Virgil had been so eager to get home. It was 3:38am on a Monday morning. The sooner he got home and crawled into bed, the longer he'd get to cuddle with Logan. Virgil had been so eager, in fact, that he didn't hear the man walk up behind him.

He didn't hear him pull out the knife. He didn't see a face in the darkness. All he saw was the stars above him, and the empty parking lot in the back of the club. Plan B closed at 2, and Virgil had been the one to lock up today. The only car in the parking lot was his own.

He could feel the blood running out of his stomach onto the parking lot, and realized he probably wouldn't live. Instead he'd bleed out on the cold cement of his own property, behind his own club. No one would even find him until Joan or Roman came in tomorrow, which probably wouldn't be until 6 or 7.

Virgil fished for his phone, pulling it out of his pocket. 3:39 blinked up at him, the box letters somehow calming. It didn't take long to unlock the phone - the password being his and Logan's wedding date - and to get to contacts. What did seem to take forever, though, was waiting for Logan to pick up.

"G'mornin' love. When'll you b'home?" Logan asked, slurring his words together in his half asleep state. In the flat Virgil and him rented, he was laying the king sized bed, eyes closed, and barely awake enough to answer the phone. He wasn't necessarily concerned at the moment, Virgil called at 4 am all the time when he had to stay at club overnight to deal with paperwork and didn't want Logan to worry.

"I can't be home until tomorrow, Starlight. Probably not until tomorrow evening, or even Tuesday," Virgil said, trying to apply pressure to the stab wound in his stomach, knowing very well that it wasn't doing anything. Instead, he mainly focused on the stars he could see, unable to make out constellations due to the light pollution of the city.

"Should I be worried that you're cheating on me with Roman?" Logan asked, his voice sounding a little more awake, but not much. He was still tired, and slightly upset. Logan knew, rationally, the Club that Virgil owned and operated would take a lot of time, but staying their for 2 nights? That seemed a bit excessive.

"No, no, you're the only one for me Starlight. I just - uh, I just got super backed up on paperwork. I'm trying to set up a new Club in the next city over, and, uh," Virgil spoke rapidly, hating lying but thinking it was better than the truth. "I just got a stupid 'mounta paperwork to do."

"Are you lying to me?" Logan asked, jokingly, as he rolled out bed and made his way to the kitchen. Virgil had a of stuttering and rushing his words when lying, but he also did that when nervous or excited or tired, and was, generally, very straightforward.

"Never, Starlight. D'you remember our first date?" Virgil asked, catching his breathe at the end and hitting the mute button just in time for a coughing fit. He was now coughing up blood, how perfect.

"O'course I do, darling. You took me stargazing. We drove an hour and a half away from the city just so there wouldn't be any light pollution and we could name the constellations. We talked about the multidimensional theory and you sang Fall For You by Secondhand Serenade while we danced," Logan whispered breathlessly, remembering that day when he was barely 17 years old. He made his way to the kitchen, making a single cup of coffee using the Keurig.

Virgil clicked the unmute button, laughing breathlessly into the phone as he remembered the amount of panicking he'd done over that night. He'd swapped his usual Panic! At The Disco shirt for a blood red button-up, but kept the black ripped skinny jeans he still wore to this day, and converse.

"My favorite death theory is still the stars," Virgil said, grinning slightly in his weakened state as he counted the stars he could see. Logans laugh carried through the phone, making Virgil's body automatically relax.

"You always were found of that one, even though it's highly illogical."

"Do you remember, 3 years later, when I asked you to marry me?" Virgil asked, keeping his eyes open, on the twinkling stars. If he closed them he may never open them again, and dying without seeing Logan one last time was not something he wanted.

"Yes, I do," Logan said, taking a long sip of his coffee before closing his eyes as he leaned against the Island in their kitchen, reimagining that night. "We drove out to the same spot, but instead of staying on the little hill to stargaze we walked around the surrounding forest until it got dark. You managed to recreate the night of our first date perfectly. Same meal, same constellations, you were even in the same outfit. At the end of the dance, you asked me to marry you, and I couldn't help but say yes."

A small smile slipped onto both of their faces as they thought about that night, noth going silent for a few minutes. It had been magical in every sense of the word. They'd ended up falling asleep on the hill and driving back in to the small apartment they'd shared in the morning, planning on giving their family the news within the week.

"D'you remember the little cabin?" Virgil asked, his voice slowly getting weaker. He could taste the blood on his teeth, which was making him sick, and it was getting harder to hold the phone to his ear ad he spoke.

"Of course," Logan said, the memory of the Log Cabin in the woods and the idea of spending a summer there coming back to him. "There was a little walking path to a long cabin with a wrap around porch. The cabin seemed in perfect condition other than the fact that there wasn't anyone there. I'd love to go and stay there. Investigate the forest of the surrounding area and watch the stars every night."

"You're birthday's next week, Starlight. We're going to spend a week in that cabin. I already cleared it with you're boss. The key to the cabin is hiding in the glovebox of my car right now," Virgil slurred his words together, the stars losing their dimness as the pain began to take over. Logan rolled his eyes at Virgs confession, the boy never could keep secrets, even for the sake of someone's birthday. "I've gotta go now, love. I'll be home tomorrow, Logan, I'll be home tomorrow."

"I love you, Virgil, don't overwork yourself," Logan said softly, finishing his cup of coffee and putting the mug into the sink.

"And I love you, Logan. More than the moon and sun and all the stars. You're my Starlight."

Logan smiled at the slurred words, assuming his husband was exhausted from a long day. In Logans mind, Virgil would fall asleep on the couch in his office, forgetting to charge his phone. He'd probably wake up, make a cup of coffee, forget to eat, and get started right away on paperwork, not even thinking to charge his phone until his lunch break, which would last 20 minutes at most. He'd come home around 6ish, complaining about office work, and would try, and fail, to sneakily wrap his arms around Logan while he was cooking dinner. With those thoughts in mind, Logan hung up and made his way back to bed, curling up in the warm covers and falling peacefully asleep.

Virgil pulled the phone away from his ear, barely making out a blurry '4:16 am' before his world went black. He smiled slightly, Logans voice in his head repeatedly saying 'I love you, Virgil'.

~~~

One titled 4:16 about Logan finding out about it and grieving? Maybe.

[hms-tardimpala]

So it's France's National Day today, and I love having a day off, but there's one particular thought I need to get out of my system today.

Obviously, I love being French. We're the mean cunts of Europe, we're the rude lazy fucks, it's all good fun. But there's one (many, actually, but let's stick to one) thing in our culture that I hate.

French people are notoriously bad at learning other languages, it seems to be a running joke in Europe. And while our foreign languages classes are mostly at fault (they're not as bad as people say, but really why would you teach kids a language this way? It makes no sense), I think there is something else hindering us.

My college english teacher, a british who had emigrated to France some 20 years ago, told us about it one day. He said that often, he would ask us a question, stare at us, and that none of us would volunteer to answer although he could tell that we had the answer. And he knew why: because we were ashamed of our accents, or worried we might not get it entirely right, and thus we chose to shut up rather than risk being made fun of or corrected in front of everyone. And he said he had never experienced that with people from other countries.

And he was right. Let met assure you that if one of us answered with a bad accent, most of the class would exchange condescending looks and snigger, and we were adults. Because we were so afraid to be in that person's place! We are so self-conscious about our accent that we will often apologize about it in a self-deprecating way before telling you the title of our favorite song if it's in english.

There's this idea in French culture that if you can't express yourself perfectly (meaning with the right vocabulary, grammar and accent) you should just do everybody a favor and shut up. If you can't speak like a native, what you say will automatically have less value than what a native says. And people will poke fun at you rather than discuss the merits of what you've said.

Which is obviously hugely problematic because it's racist and classist! And it's not just something the French apply to foreigners speaking french, we apply it to ourselves when speaking english or whatever. I HATE IT!

So that's why I'm not ashamed of my accent anymore, and I love when I come across a French character in a movie/show who doesn't hide their accent. The faster we accept this difference, the faster we can stop looking like pretentious assholes and listen to others.

[pop-pop-pop-popculture]

If a genie appeared out of fucking nowhere and told you that you have three wishes, what would you wish for? (And you can't wish for more wishes!)

I wish I was 5'10.

I wish I played volleyball throughout middle and high school.

I wish I attended either FiDM or LIM College straight after high school (and actually got a salary paying job of my desired career job title (whatever that is) prior to graduating).

There are quite a lot of wishes I have, but these are my top if I'm being totally honest. Now for some stories!

#2: I really don't know why I didn't do volleyball in middle school, especially since because I played it in 2nd grade through 5th grade. All you had to do was walk up to the coach and tell her that you wanted to be on the team, and you were (more than likely) automatically on - no tryouts or anything. I don't recall if volleyball was an option in 6th grade, but it was in 7th and 8th. You had to tryout for 9th grade and going forward, though. Anyways, get this: I attended freshman orientation during the summer and everything went fine. Pretty big school. Well, as I was heading out, I passed the gym, and there was a sign on the gym. Fast forward to the first day of school -> I had 'VOLLEYBALL' written on my schedule, which totally excited me, and it was first period. As I was sitting in the gym with my mates listening to the coach talk about how the class will go, she asked all of us to turn in our forms. A confused me looked around at the other girls handing her the forms, wondering where it came from. I told the coach that I didn't get one, and she said she handed them out at tryouts. Um . . . "... When were tryouts," I asked her with slight anxiety. During the damn freshman orientation. After being told, I then remembered what the sign on the gym door read: VOLLEYBALL TRYOUTS. I saw the sign as I was heading out to the car to leave. Nobody told me the tryouts were during freshman orientation! So, due to not trying out, I had to get my schedule changed and ended up getting put in P.E. . Dude, I was so fucking pissed. #3: I took fashion marketing my junior year and fashion design my senior year in high school. One of the admission counselors from FiDM lives in a nearby city of the state I live in, and she came to visit my fashion design class to talk about FiDM. I've always been interested in fashion, and after taking these two classes and meeting her, I knew I wanted to go there. I had everything I needed in order to apply as well as got a letter of recommendation from each fashion teacher, so all I needed to do was complete a few more steps and then I was set. Well, I brought up wanting to apply to the parents, and instead of being supportive and excited for me, they chose to argue and made it clear that they were against me attending. Aside from tuition (and everything else that came with it regarding expenses), they did not want me to live in California by myself. There are four locations in California, by the way, and the main one is in Los Angeles, which is where I was wanting to go. I ended up not applying, and it really pissed me off. I was super depressed the rest of 2012, because, unlike most everyone else, I was not going straight to college after high school. As for LIM College, which is in New York, in 2013, my mum told me about their one week summer camp program and asked if I wanted to attend (she knew damn well that I was interested in fashion), so I happily signed up. I loved the experience as a fashion student and the institute itself! At that time, I attended a community college prior to graduating high school since I was now unsure of what I wanted to major in and where I wanted to attend after being told that FiDM was unacceptable. So ... this is totally my fault and I still don't understand why I didn't think of it at the time, but applying to LIM to start in the fall 2014 did not occur to me, and I have no excuse as to why it did not. Unless I'm just making this up, I could have sworn that the parents asked me if I wanted to apply (and attend), and I responded that I wasn't because I was more interested in the creative aspect of fashion rather than business side. If that did happen, then I absolutely 100% regret saying that and hate myself. Including the summer camp, I've been to New York twice (first time was my senior graduation gift), so it's not like I would have been a complete stranger to the state. To this day, I still wonder if the parents would have been okay with me attending if I got accepted. I mean, I know how classes work at the institute and I've been to New York more than once, so I don't really see what other argument they could have used against me.

Soooo yeah... that's my three wishes. Great question!

[jls-9]

Go Easy On Me - Breaking up with my BFF 😭😞😢

Dear Leah,

I feel as though our relationship is one-sided. It's been this way for a while, but I know that both of us have gone through phases in our lives where our character's were a little off but this is lasting way too long. It's one-sided in terms of forgiveness and acceptance specifically. You have hung up abruptly on me so many times because you couldn't talk because you were busy. I do it one time and you're offended. I don't always appreciate your tone of voice but you're my bff so you get automatic forgiveness. When you were hanging out with Chantel, you were treating me with HUGE disrespect that didn't go unnoticed. I just auto-forgive because you're my bff and I knew you were being influenced again. Whenever you encounter someone with even a remotely strong personality you start to adopt ALL of their beliefs however harmful they may be to yourself or your relationships (i.e., Ritchie and his opinions = risk on corrupting your worldview, Melissa/anit-vaxer/anti-Jenny = risk on Chase's life and risk on our friendship, Chantel and her toxic opinions and negativity = risk on your mental health and huge risk on our friendship and your opinions of me.

Examples of your harsh judgments:

1) I called you to chat one day. You told me not to call you anymore when I was drunk because I remind you of your Dad with my slurred speech and it triggers you. I totally understand this even though I was surprised at the way you spoke to me and hurt by it. I just felt like I was being spoken down to like an insect. Then you called ME to chat one day and I said, "I'm sorry I'm drunk I can't chat," trying to respect your boundaries. You said, "Oh no worries, you're a happy drunk anyway, plus I need to tell you something." So I realized then that this friendship is totally ALL on your terms! Also, a couple days later you called me drunk and high. It's SO not fair.

2) One day I called you to tell you how I experienced weird synchronicities on the purchase of a lottery ticket. The ticket was purchased through my payroll at work where they take a small incremental amount off of 5 paychecks which is why I was able to afford it. You interrupted me before I got to the end of my story/sentence and said, "So you spent $350 on lottery tickets? I have to go. Bye!" It's so rude to be cut off mid-sentence and then have a judgement being cast upon you when the person doesn't even know the full story. It was through my work and coming incrementally off my paycheck. But you wouldn't know that because you hung up. I barely ever buy lottery tickets because I think they're a waste of money, and the one time I buy them I get this extremely harsh judgement. And from my bff. It's fuckin' hurtful!

I really didn't like when you were doing the escort thing because it worried the shit out of me for the following reasons: 1) I was scared someone would hurt you; I was scared someone would get involved and find out where you live and hurt you and Chase; 3) I was scared you'd get in trouble with the police; 4) I was scared you'd get HIV or something life-threatening. I stayed by your side and made sure to keep in your ear, saying things like, "I'm worried for your health T, please make sure to wear condoms. I'm worried for your safety T, do you think you can clean houses for extra money instead?" Melissa cut you off. I didn't because firstly, I love you and I just couldn't do that. Secondly, if anything you might need my help and support so why would I abandon you? A real true friend doesn't do that. I get ZERO recognition for this!

Another thing I don't get recognition for is how I told you how to go about applying for a grant to get psychoanalytical testing done to get diagnosed with ADHD and an anxiety disorder so that you could get extra time on exams and extra help while at Humber College. Now that you're diagnosed you're able to get help in general too. I get zero recognition. One day we were even talking about it and you said,"Really? I don't remember that."

3) You pass poison onto me. Your Sister said, "I can't believe Jenny is STILL in school." You told me that and it made me cry, and then you even said, "I just didn't say anything to her." Basically, you didn't stick up for me. It hurts. I'm just trying to improve my life and my financial position and it's taking me a little while that's all. I don't have a lot of supports and you're one of my only supports, so that judgement hurt.

4) I was talking with you one day about how you and your family are my family because I choose it. A few days later, you call me and say that you were talking to Chantel and you guys were having a discussion saying, "Can you reaalllly choose your family? Can you? I don't think so." Completely devalidating my acceptance in your family. Being in and out of foster homes and having a Father who didn't want a relationship with me, this is a feeling that I'm way too familiar with. A feeling that I am always trying to get away from.

5) You told me one day that you and Chantel were talking and taking stalk of how much value your friends have. You were saying that physical help like taking care of Chase, helping you run errands, or providing financial assistance is of high value to you. The way you were wording it sounded like you were trying to tell me that you and Chantel decided that I'm a low value friend. I know I've struggled with money while out here in Alberta (and forever really), and I can't be there physically to help but these aren't things that I can't control. Also, I could use help too but I never devalued my friendship with you. The mentality is like, "What can Jenny do for ME?" It's just so one-sided.

For the LONGEST time that I can remember (which is back when I was working at the Regina Leader Post in 2010), I've had you listed as my main beneficiary if I die. And the only one on the list too. I don't know what higher position of importance I can give someone. I just feel like you have such a low value on me in return. Sometimes I even felt like you hated me, but I convinced myself that it's impossible and that I'm imagining things. It gets hard making excuses and lying to myself about the way you talk to me and the hurtful things you say in between the lines. It gets really really hard when it goes on for way to long.

Also, the silent treatment you give me sometimes is emotionally manipulative and anxiety provoking.

There is also MULTIPLE other times where you would just get off the phone with either Melissa or Chantel and then talk to me and take all these little jabs at me in between the lines. I'm done being judged by you! It ends NOW!!!

I love you Leah. That will never change and you'll always be in my heart and in my prayers. And I hope to see you on the other side one day when we are both healed and can see things clearly.

P.S. I had to hang up because I was on a phone call and accidentally hit "end and accept" instead of "decline." I was on a telephone interview for a job in Aurora, Ontario. Trying to get closer to you. That's what I called you about this morning. I was excited to tell you about it because she seemed so interested in me over email.

Love,

Jenny ❤