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#(i actually haven't made that playlist yet. i know what I'm doing for the next hour)
runningfrom2am · 3 months
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cold nights // part six
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summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.7k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: i just finished writing s1, and we're halfway through! so in case anyone was wondering, s1 will have 12 parts :) i haven't started s2 yet but i am so excited to!!
series masterlist // playlist
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Days passed, no sign of Coryo. The only reason you know he isn't dead is because Sejanus came and told you he would be alright. That didn't do much to quell your worries.
Selfishly, you were scared you wouldn't get to see him again. You knew you wouldn't, actually. Now you were truly alone. Just you and his blanket, the book he gave you, and the dress your mother made. And Sejanus Plinth, you supposed. None of the surviving tributes would even talk to you- not that you really felt like talking. Just reading. You've read and re-read Romeo and Juliet no less than three times since Coriolanus passed the book through the bars to you the night before you went into the arena.
"I know you asked for this, and it's a little early, but happy birthday." Coryo whispers, smiling as the dark of night encases the two of you into your own little world.
He hands you a small box, wrapped in parcel paper and complete with a ribbon made of some kind of knitting thread. You grin, taking it from his hand and carefully untying the bow, delicately pulling the paper apart where it's taped together so as not to rip it. A copy of Romeo and Juliet. Old, tattered, falling apart; well-loved.
"Oh, Coryo, you didn't have to give me anything. That's too sweet." You grin, immediately flipping through the pages despite the dark preventing you from seeing a single word. "Thank you."
"Of course." He says, watching only you as your eyes flick over the pages. What little light falls from the moon is reflected in your eyes, and he wouldn't dare look away.
"My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite." You say softly, and at first, he thinks you're talking to yourself until you look up at him. A small, almost shy smile fit perfectly onto your lips.
"You like it?" He asks, the answer obvious even to him.
"I love it."
You were his tribute. Not a friend, certainly not more, but as he reaches through the bars to let his fingers brush over your cheek all rational thought means nothing. He doesn't realize he's staring at your lips until you comment on it.
"Is this why you asked if I have a boyfriend?" You whisper, your natural smile returns, and he's quickly looking anywhere else. Your eyes, your hair, the spot where his fingertips meet your cheekbone just below your hairline. Anywhere else. "Because I know it wasn't on that list of questions."
He's quickly backtracking, dropping his hand. This was wrong and he knew it. "I, uh, Tigris made you some cake. It's not good, but it's the best we could do." He says, redirecting his attention to his bag as he pulls out the small paper bag.
You sit back, blushing furiously. "I'm sure it's delicious." You smile, and it comes across more nervously than you intended.
"Here." He hands it to you, and you gently place the book next to you on the ground so you don't get any crumbs on it. "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow."
And just like that, he's gone.
You're grateful when you see Sejanus coming back with his bag of food and water. It had become some form of a routine, at this point. The citizens of the Capitol weren't allowed to bring you food anymore, he was the only one who did for you now that Coryo was gone, and now that his tribute had escaped as well.
"Sejanus." You smile, standing up as he gets closer.
"Y/N. Holding up okay?" He asks, a sad look behind his tired eyes. He looked almost as tired as you, you were sure, but you hadn't seen a mirror since you left your house before the reaping.
You sigh. "I'm holding up." You answer simply. Sejanus is the only person you feel comfortable being totally honest with, but at the same time, you don't want to because you know he already feels bad for what you're going through. He's the only one outside this cage who kind of understands. "How about you?"
"I'm alright." He shrugs, reaching into his bag and pulling out a sandwich for you. You could never get sick of these. "I also have salt, if it needs more of that." He hands you a small bag of table salt alongside it.
"Thank you." You grin, tucking the bag into your pocket incase you needed it. "Any news about Coryo?" You ask hopefully, taking a bite. You already feel your starvation-induced nausea fading away.
"Not really. He's recovering, though." Sejanus answers. "Are you ready for the interview tonight?"
"As ready as I'll ever be." You grin. "I was right, I didn't need the book. I already had the whole thing memorized, but it's been so lovely to get to read it again."
"It must be." He nods. "Gives you something to do."
You hum in agreement, looking around at the other tributes. No one is even moving much anymore. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
You look down at your sandwich while you think about how you want to word this. "Is Coryo..." No, that's not it. "I got the feeling that he actually cared for me. Is that true?"
"Coryo has never been one to tell anyone what he's thinking." Sejanus says, entirely unhelpfully. That's not his fault, though. "But if I had to guess, I would say yes."
"I'm just wondering because it's nice to have friends now. Here. At the end." You smile sadly before taking another bite. "And I was worried I had upset him."
"You? No." Sejanus shakes his head. "I don't think you could if you tried."
"Why's that?"
"Well... It's hard to explain. He's always been super focused on school, on the prize, but now, when it matters most, I feel like he's more focused on you and making sure you actually win." He tells you. "But, like I said, he wouldn't talk about it even if I asked him outright."
You nod. "Thank you, Sejanus. For always being honest with me."
"Of course. It's the very least I can do, all things considered."
"Can I ask you for one more favour?" You ask hopefully. "If not I understand, you must be quite busy."
"I have the rest of my life to be busy." He shakes his head. "What do you need?"
"Will you tell Coryo thank you, for me?"
"Yes. Of course." He agrees without hesitation.
"And do you have a pencil and paper?"
Sejanus headed home for a while and then back to the hospital after his visit with you, armed with your note in his pocket to pass on to Coryo. He was hoping he would be awake right now, he had been so on and off the last few days. More grumpy than normal, and Sejanus could tell it was driving him up the wall that he couldn't go see you. But the interviews had already started, so he would get to see you soon- even if it's just through the screen.
"Tigris." He whispers, pulling back the curtain as he sees the familiar girl sitting at his friend's side. She hadn't left her cousin most of the time he'd been bedridden, she was there every time Sejanus checked in.
"Oh, hello." She whispers, smiling at him. "He's still resting, but he's feeling a bit better today I think."
"That's good. I'm glad to hear it." Sejanus agrees, taking the seat next to her. "I went to see Y/N. She's eaten. She doesn't look good, though."
Tigris nods, returning her gaze to her sleeping cousin and pushing his hair away from his eyes. It's not like he needs to see, but she would do it anyway. Just to make sure he wouldn't be annoyed when he woke up. "He's been worrying about her. I can tell."
"She asked me if she did something to upset him. Has he said anything to you?"
"No, nothing." She shakes her head, lip jutting out at the confusing statement. Nothing at all would indicate to her that he was upset with you, but it's entirely possible that stuck in that cage day in and day out you could quickly become paranoid about who you could trust.
"Okay, good. That's what I told her anyway." He tries to be quiet as he speaks, but the whispering wakes his friend anyway.
Coryo's eyes fly open and he gasps, eyes landing on the two of them sitting in front of him.
"Coryo," Tigris says softly, a small, worried smile on her face.
"Y/N?" He asks, his voice husky from sleep. "Is she-"
"She's alive," Tigris promises, gently rubbing his arm, landing her hand on his and squeezing it gently.
"Is she hurt?"
"Not badly." Sejanus shakes his head. "A few decent cuts and bruises, but she'll be okay. I brought her some antibiotics the other day so nothing will get infected." You won't be okay, they both know that, but you certainly wouldn't be dying from the minor injuries you sustained in the rebel bombing.
He nods, slightly, trying to sit up. "How long was I sleeping? What did I miss?"
"Another tribute died from injuries," Sejanus replies. "Everyone is still scared. No one will go see them anymore, I haven't seen any of the other mentors there either. But I've been feeding her. She's okay."
Coryo nods, wincing at the pain in his back as he moves. The burn was bad, but apparently, it was healing well.
"Marcus is still missing. I haven't heard anything about him. They're hunting him but I still think he has a better chance out there than he would tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Coryo asks, rubbing his head with his free hand, Tigris still holding his other one. "They're still going ahead with the games?"
Sejanus just slightly shakes his head, looking away. Coryo knows that that is a yes.
"Oh no... Y/N.... She could've run," He mumbles. "But she saved me."
"I tried to convince her to. I did." Sejanus reminds him. "She wouldn't budge."
All heads turn as Lucky's voice on the TV catches their attention. "And now, our final tribute. I first met this young lady in the zoo not too long ago. From District Twelve, Y/N Y/L/N. Come on out here!"
Lucretius motions for you to step out onto the stage and you do, gently placing the book and the blanket you had brought with you on the floor in a neat pile before joining him.
"Lucretius." You smile. "It's good to see you." You're nervous in front of so many people, the audience in front of you is much larger than the small one you spoke in front of at the reaping, and being in front of a camera without Coryo by your side made you antsy.
"You as well, Darling. Now, I was told you had something you wanted to do for us so I'll just leave you to that. Charm us! Remember, the world is watching." He smiles, gently patting your shoulder before walking just out of view of the cameras. His statement was far from reassuring.
"Uhm..." You stare out at the audience, and suddenly you're scared you've forgotten the entire thing. You had to do well. For Coryo and his prize. He needed this. "I've become aware that not many people know this play." You chuckle, trying to hide your nervousness behind it. "But Romeo and Juliet has always held a special place in my heart and I want to share that with the world, before I go."
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. You wonder if Coryo is watching. He's not here, you're sure of that, but you do hope he gets to see. And he does.
He stands up as soon as your face first appears on the screen, declining help from both Tigris and Sejanus as he limps over to the TV, cranking up the volume. Your fate depends on this, he knows it, but he can't look past the blue tint under your eyes and the bruises that litter almost every part of your exposed skin. The cuts are what get him the most. Your knuckles are cleaned up, mostly, but red and irritated as you twist your hands together nervously in front of you. Same with the crude black stitches on your upper arm. Irritated, neglected by professionals, but at least it wasn't serious.
"Come on... You can do it." He mumbles mostly to himself, and Tigris reaches up to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder as the three of them watch.
"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" Immediately, he is confused. He expected to be, of course, but he could also tell as soon as you started reciting it, after the first line, your confidence was coming back to you. This play was your safe space.
"Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love; and I'll no longer be a Capulet." You look out at the silent audience as you speak, a smile forming on your lips. They're listening. "'Tis but thy name that is my enemy: Thou art thyself, though not a Montague."
Coryo is wishing you had explained more to him about what this play is about. "What's Montague? It is nor hand nor foot, nor arm nor face nor any other part belonging to a man. Oh, be some other name." He should have asked. Why didn't he ask? You told him yourself that you could talk about it for hours. Why didn't he take advantage of that when he had the chance?
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title." A rose. Of course a rose, was this for him? He longed to understand it better as he watched the donations tracker tick up and up toward the thousands.
"Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name, which is no part of thee," You take a deep breath for the first time since you started speaking. "Take all myself."
It was a beat or two before the audience clued in that you were done, and then the cheers started. A standing ovation, people wiping their eyes and clapping for you like you had changed their lives.
"Wow! Now wasn't that something, everyone!" Lucky laughs, coming back into the frame of Coryo's view from the camera. Tigris was in tears. The continual uptick of the donations counter was reassuring to him. As you smiled, cheeks flushing red. "The donations are just flooding in with a record high! That must feel good."
"Thank you, it does." You nod at Lucky, trying to place all your focus on him so you don't get too embarrassed in front of the crowd. At least you knew Coryo would be pleased. If you understood his prize situation as well as you thought you did, this was very good for him. "I just want to make my family and my mentor proud."
"You have a real talent. It's such a shame." The host says to you and you laugh awkwardly.
"Well, everyone loves something. I just loved books."
You continually referring to yourself in the past tense makes Coryo want to puke, looking away from the screen only briefly to take in the other nurses and patients watching too.
"We have just a few moments left, but I need to know, what is that about?"
"Oh! Well, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy." You explain, back to yourself again. "It's about two star-crossed lovers from feuding families. So, what Juliet was talking about, to put it very simply because I could go on and on about this, was that she loved Romeo for who he was- not just his name or his family. It didn't matter to her that they came from different places. She loves him anyway, and if he couldn't let go of his family, she would give up her own life for him."
Coryo's eyes widen. So it was about him. He can't help the tug on his lips that threatens to form a smile.
"Alrighty then, that's very sweet." Lucky replies. "Now, you said it's a tragedy. What is so tragic about a love story?"
"Well," You chuckle nervously. "They both die at the end."
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nwjws · 5 months
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while you were sleeping - pjs
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; PAIRING - jay x gn!reader
; SYNOPSIS - in which you’ve had the same album on repeat, unable to get it out of your mind. just like how jay, your roommate, can’t seem to get you out of his.
; WC - 1.4k (minus the lyrics)
; TAGS - college roommates au, fluff, from jay's pov, based off laufey's 'while you were sleeping' ; WARNINGS - not proofread
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i still can't believe that you noticed me
mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you patiently wait for your roommate, park jay, to finish cooking up some breakfast. a comfortable silence has settled between you two, with the only sounds being the sizzling oil on the pan and your humming.
"you've been listening to the same 14 songs for the past week."
"what?" you ask, looking up at him. you stare at his back, broad shoulders exposed by his tank top.
he turns his head to look back at you over his shoulder, raising a perfect eyebrow. you realise then what he's saying.
laufey had released a new album last week, and you literally haven't played any other song outside of it since it dropped. you can feel jay judging you, but you just shrug at him. you were definitely not stopping.
"so what if i've had bewitched on repeat? can you deny that they're good?" you challenged him.
"no, of course not," he chuckled to himself, turning back to the pan. "i'm just surprised you haven't gotten sick of it yet."
"i would never get sick of laufey," you say with mock offence.
"alright, then," he said with a teasing undertone.
you wanted to retort, but he placed a plate in front of you, making you forget what you were going to say.
"hey, you have a later clinical today, right?" he asked as you two dug in.
"mhm."
"take the box i left in the fridge with you before you go then. its some extra lunch i made so you'd have enough energy to get through the day."
"thank you," you say appreciatively. "you really don't have to do that every time i have a heavier day."
"well, if i have time to, then i don't see why i shouldn't."
"what about you? what are you doing today?"
"my professor cancelled class today, so i'll go check out if i can bother heeseung or jake."
"i'll pray for whichever victim you choose, then," you joke.
"maybe i won't make you extra lunch next time," he pouted playfully.
"no, no. those actually really help me. god knows if i didn't score you as my roommate, i would have passed out several times by now."
"grateful to be of service"
after breakfast, jay lounges around the apartment as you're getting ready. some show plays on the tv, but it doesn't drown out the sound of must be love playing from your speakers.
you shout your leaving when you exit the shared apartment, and jay wishes you a good day. he watches you close the door, leaving him completely alone.
i'll never forget the first time i saw you then
when he drives to the shopping centre with jake later that day, he pauses mid-sentence when he realises something.
"is everything good?" his friend asks.
"yeah, i just recognised the song playing."
"really? you listen to from the start by laufey?" jake asks. he had decided to connect his phone to jay's carplay, and had been in the one in control of the playlist.
"not really, but my roommate does."
"y/n? that's pretty cool. they've got good music taste," he replies.
"they've had her newest album on repeat since she dropped it," jay laughs, eyes on the road.
"do you find that annoying?"
"of course not, it's funny seeing them prance around the apartment, belting their heart out," he laughs at a memory of you singing at the top of your lungs. "i guess i'm more of a second-hand listener now? if that's even a thing."
"probably," jake shrugs.
a light pink bouquet, a promise you'll stay and i start to believe
the two had decided to eat out at wagamama's first, before anything else.
"i think i'll get the pad thai," tells the waitor, who nods and notes it on his ipad.
"hm, i'm feeling like trying the grilled chicken ramen," jay says. "oh, could i also get the miso mixed vegetable salad to-go?"
"sure," the waitor replies. he pockets the small device in his apron, and leaves for the kitchen.
"you ordered another meal?" the younger asks curiously.
"me and y/n go here often. of course, i had to get them something. usually, they'll go for the typical miso salad, or some curry, but they've decided they wanted to try being vegan recently. so i got the vegan one," jay explains nonchalantly.
"wow, you really care a lot about them, huh?"
"of course, we're sharing the rent, after all. have to be a good roommate, otherwise they'll leave and i'll have to pay the bills on my own."
"maybe i should get a roommate," jake chuckles. "but i don't think i'd be able to get someone like you."
"i'd feel sorry for whoever ends up with you," jay teases him. "and anyway, they're a good roommate. they do the laundry for the both of us, and we usually spend the weekends cleaning together."
"you guys are so lucky," is all jake says.
i don't recognise myself ; who've i become?
jake dragged jay into their third clothing shop that day, despite jay's protests. in self-defence, jake whines about needing some new shoes.
"don't you have like, thirty pairs? what could you possibly need another one for?"
"actually, i only have twenty-eight. and i need one for graduation, of course."
"right, because none of your almost-thirty pairs suffice," jay rolls his eyes.
"don't act like you dont have seventy pairs of the same polo shirt."
"i don't!"
"i've seen your closet, don't lie to me."
jay sighs and leaves jake to wander around the shop on his own.
"there you go again, buying another shirt," jake's voice sighs from behind jay fifteen minutes later.
"not for me," jay shakes his head. he turns to show the clothing piece to his friend. "for y/n. this is definitely their style, and it'll fit them so well. they have a pair of shoes that are this exact colour, so it would be good outfit if they sandwhich it with any bottom piece they choose."
"you think a lot about your roommate," jake raises his eyebrow at him.
"i see them all the time, why wouldn't i?" jay asks.
"no, like, you think too much about y/n considering you're 'only roommates'," he says with a quote gesture.
"stop suggesting weird things," jay walks ahead to the counter, leaving jake to follow behind.
"is it really so weird, though? if you like y/n like that?"
jay just ignores him, and pays for the shirt. it's not, he thinks to himself, because it's not a new thought either.
i trace it all back, 3:30 am that night something turned in my heart
"thank you, jay," you hug him when he shows you what he got. "you really need to stop buying me things."
"i can't help it," he smiles. "when i see something that reminds me of you, i just feel like i have to get it."
"with how often you buy me things, i'd say a lot of things remind you of me, huh?"
"seems like it..." he scratches his nape, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with you. thanks jake, he scowls in his mind. now he can't stop thinking about what he said earlier.
you and jay decide to watch a movie the next night, since it was a friday, and neither of you had to be up early the next day.
but jay couldn't focus on the tv when you two were basically cuddling under the shared blanket on the sofa. his skin prickled where his arm hung around your shoulder, and the weight of your head on his made him feel light and airy.
the warmth of your body seeped through your clothes, and brought him immense comfort. your sweet scent filled his nose, subconsciously recognising it to be one of the perfumes he'd bought you.
it was only when the movie ended he realised he hadn't been watching at all. and neither were you, if your light snores were any indication.
he huffed amusedly to himself, and shifted on the sofa to get you two in a more comfortable position, actually lying down. reaching for the remote, he carefully switched off the tv, leaving the only source of light to be a soft, warm yellow coming from a corner lamp.
jay stared at your features, illuminated by the dim light. he realised right then, in the comfort of your arms, far into the night, what he felt for you.
while you were sleeping, i fell in love.
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; AUTHOR'S CORNER! do u guys ever feel like throwing up at your own work? ALSO THANK YOU FOR 200 this is my offer of thanks 🤭
; TAGLIST - @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii
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peeterparkr · 1 month
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thus, with a kiss, i die| tom holland| 1.
chapter 1: strangers.
romeo & juliet modern au.
summary: the well known story of star-crossed lovers. Your local bar has two spots for bands, but only one spot for an opportunity to get a record deal. Your band, the Capulets and his band, the Montagues have been rivals long enough. But what happens after a night when you get to know their lead singer?
chapter summary: two strangers who have no expectations.
pairing: singer!tom holland x guitarrist!reder
warnings: swearing, alcohol mention
word count: 3.8k
this is literally romeo and juliet, it's one of my favorite stories, if you've read my other works you KNOW I love to quote it, and reference and eveyrhting. Anyway, this is my take on it. Modern world, hope you like it. I haven't written anything in ages so here goes.
character glossary prologue next chapter masterlist
wanna be tagged?
so, first chapter is finally here! I highly thank everyone who's been supportive of this :) i'm really happy to be writing again and to see people actually reading is making me go insane. Well, I hope you like it, I highly encourage to read the prologue to understand a bit more of the capulets and the montagues. This chapter is heavily focused on Tom and y/n separately. Again, this is my take on Romeo and Juliet, it's literally based on it with my modern twist but yes :) hope you like it, send feedback. Also, I have a playlist on apple music, I'm going to get it on spotify as well so I'll share that later.
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The night seemed either too old or the light too young. Blurry, and messy seemed the evening before, a couple of drinks, two songs too many, and a gathering crowd that was too delighted. For his own good. 
Tom couldn’t recall what had been said, or done. Last thing he knew was he’d shown up, his bleeding heart puffing out of his chest as he continued to stab it under the spotlight. Making a show out of his broken heart.
Only Ben had asked if he could do it. 
“Yeah, yeah, I can do it with a broken heart,” he had pleaded. But could he? 
“Enjoy the spotlight,” had been the advice he had received from Monty. And although he wasn’t referring to the light, Tom later understood it meant the several attempts that were made to flirt with him.
He had given in, eventually. What else can you do with a broken heart? 
And as he woke up early from a cold bed, slightly too crowded, with a hand up on his chest he growled, leaving an empty trail behind him and a headache that would last. 
He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t have to. The poor girl had probably just been a victim of his attempt to forget a broken heart. 
He’d left his motorbike at the bar so he had to clumsily and shamefully walk back to Verona. Thankfully he was now alone with his melancholic thoughts, an endless path full of misery and tears that were waiting to trace a map back to his pain. An unfurnished heart and his sudden questioning of what love was and if he’d truly felt it was going to keep him busy all day. If it hurt this much then he guessed he had felt it. But had he? 
He felt like he’d walked for hours. He wondered why it wasn’t raining yet he felt like it was pouring down on him. 
He’d heard much about love. How wonderful, a very splendid thing. Butterflies and unusual symphonies. He’d heard about love. But he didn’t know much about it. 
He’d heard little about love. 
Falling in and and falling out. He’d heard about hate, too. And how it was the absence of love. He disagreed much with it. For what he was feeling right now wasn’t hate. He felt empty. 
Falling out of love hadn’t made him turn towards hatred. Falling out of love was like losing air, like the sun wasn’t coming out, life didn’t continue and the whole world was meant to stop.  And the worst part of it was it didn’t. The sun came out, the birds were chirping and no one saw or cared he hurt. How dare the world continue when it had stopped for him? 
Maybe it was hate. Though, he didn’t know much about hate either.
 He’d searched for more love the night before or whatever was similar to it, perhaps that’s why he’d searched for some other lips for him. 
“Tom,” someone had interrupted his current inner monologue. His mind wandering had been brought back to reality all of sudden. Tom turned around to find Ben. 
Tom only raised his eyebrows  as he walked to his helmet. “Ben.” 
“You’re here early.” Ben commented. 
“It’s not early.” But it probably was. 
“It’s barely 9,” Ben declared as he stared at his watch. Ben worked the early shift at Verona, cleaning tables and getting ready for the day, so it was early. 
Tom groaned , “fuck.” Barely 9 and he had already died 7 times. 
He looked back at Verona that kindly had a sign which read ‘NO MONTAGUES ALLOWED TONIGHT.’ 
“What?” Ben questioned. “A few days ago you were in pain because you were falling in love.” 
“Out of love,” Tom corrected. “What happened last night?” He asked. 
Ben amused, chuckled. “Oh, darling,” he mocked his accent.. “You don’t remember?”
Tom rolled his eyes. “I know, I meant before,” he pointed at the sign. “Where the fuck am I supposed to drown this sorrow in alcohol instead?” 
“Ah,” Ben pressed his lips in a thin, thin line. “Well, the Capulets—“
“Piss off, I’m tired of that,” Tom rolled his eyes. “I have enough problems trying to understand why Rosie dumped me.” 
“And why did she?”
“Beats me,” Tom said. “She said I was too romantic. What the fuck does that mean? She said she didn’t want anything serious and that she wanted to have fun. Am I not fun?” 
Ben watched his friend with pity. “You know what?” He sighed, “I’ll take the day off, I’ll cheer you up.” 
Tom didn’t want that. 
But it didn’t matter. Not far from them Billie was cheering herself up, knowing that the night would be grand. It held the promise of the sun finally coming out for them. 
Billie had been waiting for a chance like this, and she knew her new friend Paris would help out. 
Paris, Billie thought his name to be ridiculous. For him only, ironically. Though it worked, she guessed. Cap had always thought they were meant for something greater than this. 
She often wondered what it could’ve been. 
She knew what they had set each other up, Capulets and Montagues. But she had her reasons. And her falling with Monty was something she often ignored and blamed him for. Monty was definitely at fault. He’d been the one to play with fire, he’d been the one to absolutely ruin everything. Which was a story for another time. Cap didn’t like to think about it so the reason will be kept secret. Let’s not get ahead. 
However Cap did like to think about how she’d ruined it herself. She had a marvelous time. 
People often called Cap a no brain woman. She took pride in that, although she didn’t agree. Although her last night with their initial band with Monty, “Shaken Spears”, was ine ti remember, she’d destroyed the whole place and humiliated him.  
It was fun. 
But now they were struggling because often bands are followed by popularity and Tom had given them just that. 
However she knew she was technically cheating. 
“So tonight’s your big night,” said Paris. Paris was more than just a bartender. His father owned Verona. And although Skylar owned the place she didn’t actually own it, and it was always Paris’ last call. 
So it did help that Paris had an infatuation with y/n, Cap’s younger sister, an incredible guitarist and a poet in her free time. Author of their best songs.
Or not really a poet, but someone who loved to poetize her sorrow. Same shit. 
“Yes, it is,” Cap smiled, “I’m glad we can prove we are better than the Montageeses.” 
Paris chuckled. “You are,” he agreed. “But they’ve got something.” 
“Yes, I know that British brainless brute,” she hissed. 
Paris nodded. “And he’s single now.” 
“Single now? Fuck,” Cap sighed. She thought Monty had probably something to do with it. Making the stupid hunk available would make them more appealing. 
“Yeah, and he already went home with someone,” Paris continued. 
Shit. This was even worse. 
“But I’m sure y/n will bring a lot of attention as well,” he cleared his throat. “I mean she’s incredibly talented.” 
“She is.” 
“Hope I get to—talk to her tonight.”
Although Cap was thrilled they’d be able to get more Saturday nights she wasn’t as fond for it to be at her sister’s expense. Although she knew she didn’t dislike Paris. 
Paris was a tall, handsome young guy. He had the brightest, bluest eyes. Y/N was fond of kind eyes. He was kinda cute, she guessed.
“Yeah,” Cap said. “I’m glad you want to befriend her.” 
Paris blushed. “I may—I may want more than befriending her.” 
Cap coughed, “you know, I’m not the one to make that decision for her. And if you want her to fall in love with you that’s your problem. You have to… woo her."
And she knew y/n to be sort of new to matters of love. Y/N was naive and stupid when it came to it. Her heart was an empty room ready to be filled. An open window letting the warm air in. Walls waiting to be painted. Her closet was full of dresses that were thrilled to be worn.  Y/N barely knew anything about it. She’d heard a lot about it, and spoke of it like a grand connoisseur. Words of someone who could imagine what it felt like. Romanticizing her lack of knowledge of love. 
“I know,” Paris said, “hopefully tonight I’ll get to talk to her, it’s the perfect setup.” He grinned to himself. “Besides, your idea to make it a theme night—“
“Shit!” Cap interrupted. “I haven’t given out these!” She took out a bunch of pink, blue and purple sheets, covered in constellations, stars, moons and suns which read: 
✨We are made of stardust✨ The Capulets invite you to celebrate the arrival of a new angel in their team.  Heaven, skies, signs and stars  mask themed party.  Greek goddesses, and mythic galaxies welcomed.   Costumes are encouraged. (Plus, you won’t have to pay cover if you’re dressed up )  Saturday 8 o’clock NO MONTAGUES ALLOWED.
Paris watched her. “I can get someone to hand them out.” 
And so he did, and before they knew it, a young boy was handing out the printed pamphlets. Nearby, some Montagues were sitting by. Getting a well deserved break. 
“You know the best cure for an old love is a new one,” Ben assured Tom, watching as the younger teenager who would earn a few bucks struggled to hand out the pamphlets. 
“I’d rather cut my own leg,” Tom rolled his eyes. “You know I just feel trapped it’s like this fucking emptiness is just spreading—Hello?” He turned to the kid who’d just interrupted them by approaching them. 
“Hi. Good heavens.” 
Ben and Tom shared a glance. 
“Can we help you?” Tom questioned. 
“Are you Montagues?” The kid questioned. 
“Who asks?” Tom raised his eyebrow, trying to get a glimpse of the pamphlet. 
“Ah, then you are,” the kid sighed and tried to keep his way. 
“No, we aren’t,” Tom grinned and then shot a death glare at Ben who frowned. “We aren’t, what’s that?” 
“The Capulets.” He handed it over so Tom could finally take a look. 
Tom smirked, “ah, their gig.” 
“You knew about it?” The kid asked. “You need the pamphlet thing to get in.” 
Tom glanced up. “If you didn’t want me to be a Montague I could only guess.” 
Ben glanced at Tom. “We can’t go.” 
“Sure we can!” Tom smirked. 
“I was told to encourage guys like you,” the kid admitted. He looked between them. “Apparently there will be a lot of pretty girls.”
“See? Didn’t you want me to get a new love?” Tom mocked his friend. “C’mon, let’s call Maverick, I’m sure he’ll be down.” 
“Didn’t you want to cut your leg?”
And someone else wanted to cut their own leg. Not too far from them, in an old apartment, full of vinyls, lipsticks, old bookds, half-written songs and stars, y/n was getting ready with her best friend, Nina, and Clara, Cap’s girlfriend. 
Nina was excellent at makeup and hair, even though she was just your usual case of a gril who dreamed with having her salon. Although, to be fair she mostly wanted it because she said it was the perfect place for other people’s gossip. 
“Can’t believe you’re finally joining the Capulets,” Nina commented as she was placing small stars and sparkles around y/n’s eyes. “Seems like only yesterday when you started playing guitar, and writing songs about books you read. ” 
“Why the hell are you being so emotional?” Laughed Clara, watching them, “you sound like a mom.” 
Y/N had always stayed far from the spotlight, she didn't like it. She didn't think she needed it for that matter. For her, she was just a wallflower, nothing too exceptional. No one really paid any attention to her so she didn't bother trying to get it.
“I am proud of my baby, that’s all, finally showing the world her talent!" Nina smirked, “you know she’s been begging Cap to join them since they were the Shaken Spears? And I was so sad when they split up.” 
“Why?” Clara frowned. 
“She had a crush on Monty,” explained y/n, and then nodded in agreement at Clara’s disgusted grin. “Uh-huh.” 
“We all have questionable crushes,” Nina defended herself. 
“Not me.” Y/N chuckled. But she'd never really liked anyone. Not that anyone fancied her.
Nina motioned a vomiting face. “Except y/n it seems, because she’s perfect,” she mocked, bringing her hands close to her heart. “She’s never dated someone who’s trouble.” 
“And I never will,” y/n laughed. 
“You’ve never had a boyfriend or girlfriend, have you?” Clara questioned. “At least I haven’t met anyone.” 
“Nope, not one!” Nina said. “Hopefully, someone will catch her eye and she can bring them home.” 
“I haven’t had the honor, or misfortune,” y/n answered Clara.. “However I don’t think bringing someone home implies a boyfriend.” 
“You know Paris likes you right?” Nina smirked. , blushing.
“I am aware,” y/n admitted. She knew partly his infatuation had given them the Saturday night gig. She smiled, for the first time she wasn't invisible as usual.
Clara laughed, “Oh, and do you like him?” 
“He’s easy on the eye,” y/n rolled her eyes, her cheeks were flustered. “But in all honesty, I don’t want to… I’m not looking for anything, you know, Nina here is the love of my life so I don’t need anyone else.” 
Nina grinned. “I am her soulmate, that’s true.” 
“Besides, I’m more worried about music, and music is my one true other love, I can’t focus on anything else.” 
And she really didn’t want to focus on anything else. Perhaps, it may have been because she’d never yearned for love. She’d never suffered a broken heart, and she’d never felt that spark. 
That was a lie. 
She could only imagine it. But she didn’t know how it felt. She had always wondered how it would feel, if there truly were butterflies and a tickle in your skin. She wondered if love sounded like a gentle guitar weeping. She wondered if the world actually stopped, all of sudden only with a smile. She wondered if time really stopped ticking when it was felt. Did it taste as sweet as honey? Did it taste bitter? What did love smell like? Was it soft? Was it rough? 
Y/N always questioned why love had always hidden from her. She wondered how long love would take, because it seemed late enough. She’d been asleep for too long. 
She always wanted to love, without thinking, that never ending, the kind of love that is brainless, that makes you foolish. Y/N wanted to laugh, to cry and to feel. 
She knew her heart was special enough. Did no one want it?
And she knew Paris liked her, but she knew he wasn’t love. And she wanted to have it, she didn’t want to imagine it anymore. She wanted to be proven wrong, or proven right. 
To feel naked and yet warmed with the sun. Y/N always thought love would feel like a sunset. To love so passionately. To feel like you might die if you’re not around. She wanted to give her heart, to wake up with the stars wrapping you around in a haze. 
She could only wish. But right now, she was no one. And she knew she'd stay like that.
Or would she? 
Later, when the shadows can no longer be seen as the moon is your only companion, Maverick, Ben and Tom waited outside Verona. A lavender smoke surrounded the air and it held a promise for luck. The gig was about to start, and it was a full house. 
Stardust was the correct theme for the night. People dressed in bright, nightly gowns, girls with stars around their eyes. Moons, stars, angels, devil and gods. Greek goddesses, euphoric galaxies. 
The three of them, dressed to the nines, with masks around their eyes, giving imagination a go. Maverick, one of Tom’s oldest friends, stood right beside him. A sturdy man, tall, and handsome. Blue eyed knight, some liked to call him. He’d dressed as a galaxy, a starry, blue, litmus shirt, and a black mask to accentuate the oceans in his eyes. 
Ben, on the other side, only wore a white blanket around, a greek god had been his inspiration. A golden mask posed on his nose. 
And then, Tom, who had decided to go for something completely different. He’d worn a black, satin buttoned up just halfway the chest. A black mask, with golden feathers on the corners, to combine with the golden, covered in dark ashed pair of wings on his back. 
He’d learned from Maverick that Rosie would be there, so eventually he had to show off. Icarus, he’d gone as Icarus. 
They’d blended in with another group, and were astounded by the transformation of the place. Stars and suns hanging from the city, glitter and stars on the floor. Pink, lavender and blue lights, as if stardust had really covered the place. 
A fortune teller on one corner, with a bright neon sign behind her. Wings, feathers, and fabrics. 
“Jesus,” Maverick said. “If they keep going like this, you guys are going to actually strip on stage next time to stay relevant.” 
Tom only glanced around. “This feels like a dream.” 
Maverick scrunched his nose at his comment and Ben only chuckled as he arrived with the drinks. Unfortunately they hadn’t recognized them so he could get a bucket of beer. 
“Just drink, buddy,” Maverick handed a beer. 
There was something in the air, Tom could feel it. “I’m serious,” he said 
“Oh yes, yes, the old dream fairy visited you and gave you a glimpse of your future.” 
“Fuck off.” 
Before he continued, they were interrupted. “Well, hello, hello! What a lovely scene!” Billie said into her mic,  her stand was covered with flowers. Everyone turned to the stage, a projection of stars fell on her face. She had a glass in her hand. “I’m so fucking happy everyone could make it, and y’all look so hot.” 
A few laughs, cheers, whistles and clapping. Tom watched her, she was dressed with a dark blue dress, covered in small, silver moons combining with her silver mask, with stars coming out of it, surrounding her head. 
“I’m so glad everyone stayed on theme, but I do see someone dressed as a ghost, not sure if it’s the right vibe, but you do you buddy,” she smirked. “Anyway, I’m so happy that you joined us tonight. So, some of you may already know us, you know the gist,  we will play fun tunes for you, while y’all enjoy a drink, and you can sing and dance along. Are y’all with a drink already?” 
A loud cheer. 
“Amazing, I have a drink here myself, so cheers,” she took a sip. “I’ll be joined by my beautiful comrades over here.” 
Louder cheer, claps and a room full of noise. Tom had never been to one of their gigs, and the vibe was different from theirs. Cap was better at crowd work than he was. Monty usually talked and turned on the audience, promising Tom would take off his clothes. He never did. 
Seemed, however, the Capulet’s fanbase was more intense and devoted, rather than thirsting for them. Although he could see some people in the crowd were certainly not complaining about Cap. 
“Alright, I’m so I see a few new faces over here, I’m glad to see you so I’ll introduce these beautiful ladies,” she smirked. “And tonight’s the first night one of them is joining so make sure y’all clap and have this loud ass cheer, okay? We want her to feel welcome, so I want you to fucking scream and lose your minds for her, okay? or else I’ll beat your asses.” Laughs. 
“So first, let’s welcome the love of my life, Clara, who’s on the bass,” Clara walked in to say hello. Cheers, claps. 
Maverick, Ben and Tom all stared at each other. They’d never seen this kind of crowd. 
The girls kept walking in, as the cheers got louder each time. “Amazing, then we have our sexy Georgia on the drums, our lovely cute Sam on the keyboard. We have this hot badass on the guitar, bass, and fuckin’ ell everything that we need her on, please welcome Theodora.” 
Tom bit his lip, expectant. Why were they leaving the last one for the end? 
The place was moving. 
“But we know why you all are here, tonight all of this is for our newest member. Who isn’t exactly new. She’s been behind the scenes this whole time, she’s written some of your favorites like… Milky Twilight,” Billie smirked. “Flowers for two… Table for one… Yeah, yeah I know, and so many more, like our fan favorite Star shaped heart.” 
Ben and Tom were panicking. They had efinitely heard those songs. One of them was even  recorded already, and they had heard a rumour that it would be on the radio. Star shaped heart was the Capulet’s song. They’d always believed that Cap had written them so to hear the actual mastermind behind those, was terrifying for them. 
“and I’m so fucking happy she finally is on stage,” Billie said. “Please, welcome my younger sister, the talented, beautiful and brilliant y/n!” 
And Tom felt like he had been hit by a car. The girl had walked into the stage to the warmest, loudest crowd. The entire room had gone absolutely crazy. 
Yet, Tom felt the most calm, as he laid eyes on her. The whole world had stopped. Like an angel had flown over. A golden, long gown, folded, falling down all the way. As if sun rays were coming out of her, she was the purest light,  brighter than the sun, prettier than any of the skies above. Like she was floating above them all, flying. She was the sun.
Tom held in his breath as he watched her. It was a dream, it had to be, what else could it be instead? Maybe a wish, of one of those you wish upon a star.
“Okay, okay, so you guys all know us,” Cap said. “I’m Billie, but y’all can call me Cap. We’re The Capulets!” 
And they started to play. And Tom’s eyes could only be on her, her. And her name was roaming in his mind, the sweetest melody. A diamond. With a guitar covered in star stickers
The played a few songs and Tom finally tried to approach the stage as soon as Billie announced they’d get a break. He had actively avoided and ignored Ben’s and Mavericks comments. They continued to drink. 
Tom was in awe,and he couldn’t even hide it. 
Someone had noticed it. 
Theodora approached Billie. “We seem to have a stowaway,” she warned Cap, motioning to the stupid kid. 
Cap turned and saw him, lost and confused, watching them with veneration. 
“I’ll beat the shit out of him if you need me to,” Theodora said.
“Is that Tom?” Cap questioned, she’d never seen him here before, and honestly, she was too happy to care. “Ah, don’t bother, he is no trouble.” 
“But--” 
“We can’t have trouble, Theo,” she warned. “If we cause any mess Skylar will kick us out, alright?” 
Theo wasn’t pleased with that answer. They both were left too busy to see Tom had finally approached the sunlight herself. Who was currently by the bar, attempting to get a drink.
And so Icarus made his way to the sun. 
He only knew he wanted something, one kiss. That’s all he needed. But he couldn’t start with that. But there she was, alone with what seemed all the spotlights and yet no one approached her. How could they not?
He followed after her, as she was making her way out the backdoor. He guessed she thought no one was following her.
“Hey," his voice was soft.
The girl turned around, slightly startled, and it had been as if she’d been hit by the same bus as him. “Oh, hi.”  
-
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begginmonty · 2 years
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best friends nick miller, winston schmidt and winston bishop 
idk if this fandom is alive anymore but i love these boys and i want to live with them so here's some really detailed headcanons - sorry its long lol. (nsfw mentions, mental health issues & fem!reader, lowercase intended btw)  i also made a playlist here
brief backstory - you move into the loft after jess offers you her old room as she's moving in with cece, you’ve known jess for a while as she comes into the coffee shop you work at everyday and has done for the past like three years. you take up the offer and that’s where the best part of your life starts.
let me emphasise that these boys love you so much and as much as they like jess, they like you a tiny bit more but will never say it.
these boys will defend and protect you till the day you die and they would do the same beyond death too - anyone bad mouths you and these boys are like who said it whos ass are we fighting (although none of them would actually beat anybody up, we all know what they’re like) 
nick always asks if you’ve eaten or taken your meds and when you say no this man glares at you until you move from your spot and go do so whilst you stare at him with a little scared
had a long day and just wanna lie down face first on the sofa? you can literally lay on top of these men and they're not bothered in the slightest 
if your head is on either winston or schmidt’s lap (and your hair is long enough) these boys will braid your hair subconsciously and sometimes schmidt does a really good job (not surprised tho)
(ignore if you don't smoke) you and nick have a guilty pleasure like every few nights going to the roof, dead in the night and sitting in lawn chairs sharing a cigarette together. it’s a bad habit but it’s something you two enjoy together.
going to parties and bars altogether and whilst everyone is making out with people or going home to sleep with people, you and winston are singing your hearts out, like you guys are brilliant at karaoke and you whip out all the old songs, any song. 
and then one of the rare times winston is actually making out with someone, you’re normally sitting at a table like : ( 
listen we all make mistakes right well, just if you’re heartbroken don't be sitting alone with schmidt because somehow you will kiss him and sleep with him and yeah. that happens one night.
and you wake up the next morning and schmidt is actually kinda cute cuddled up next to you and it does feel nice to be cuddled so you just kinda go back to sleep for a bit.
and i'm going to say this now, you do kiss all the guys at some point and/or sleep with them too.
one of them needs a fake girlfriend? you’re down. 
there’s one time you are Winston's fake girlfriend for when his family visits and at the end of the day you’re like, “that was fun, any girl would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend” and you give him one big kiss before going off to bed and he’s stood there dumbfounded. 
you know in that episode where they all admit they’ve thought about jess whilst getting off once? yeah well it’s the same for you. if not a little more. there’s no point denying it. 
dont u deny that you haven't thought of them too.
there’s a period where you’re very much suffering with your funky brain and you’re laying in bed a lot or laying on the floor of your bedroom staring at your ceiling with so many yet no thoughts.
and bless these boys my god, especially nick as he knows what it’s like. they’ll each come sit with you and talk about anything to distract you or just sit with you to keep you company. 
nick finds you sitting on the floor, back against your bed, head in your arms with your knees pulled up, sniffling away and he doesn’t say anything but sits next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. he pulls you close and just kinda crumble in his chest and this man does not judge you one tiny bit. he knows what it's like. so he doesn’t say anything but rubs your shoulders and gives you head kisses. you stay like that for a good hour.
later that night you finally emerge from your room and they’re all sitting on the sofa. it’s obvious you’ve been upset but no one says anything. you dont say anything as you make your way over and sit between winston and schmidt, and winston puts his arm around your shoulders, not in like an obvious comfort way but more in a platonic way?? (idk hopefully you understand)
for your birthday nick is broke and gives you a badly handmade card but dear god you get very emotional about it and he’s like, are you crying?? why?? what did i do i'm so sorry omg?? 
need someone to come to the doctors or the dentist with you and hold your hand? nick will. but don't squeeze his hand that hard cause he will scream. 
these guys support whatever you do. wanna game all night long? they dont care if you’re screaming at a 12 year old for killing you. play any instruments or sing? give them a concert (if you’re comfy). love art? they’ll commission you art (if you give them a friends and family discount). they’re very supportive, okay <3 
give them hugs. they might not act like they want hugs but from what i know about boys, they always want a big squeezy hug. so please give them hugs.
thing about schmidt tho is that if he finds you crying he’s not the best at dealing with it, “y/n have you seen- oh, oh no. NICK?? WINSTON?? HELP”
you guys of course fight and have silly arguments but sometimes they dont really have a filter and will say something unintentionally mean to you and then when they see your face fall they’re like oh god oh no i didnt mean i swear
you always forgive them though, it’s hard to stay mad at them <3
they love you as much as you love them <3
sorry it’s really long and detailed but there’s more if you want it and if you guys wanna send in headcanon requests im totally down to write them! < 3
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cryptic-tales · 9 months
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Infernal Me // Chapter II The Ghost in the Library
Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader
After your unfortunate meeting with the Cardinal, things only get weirder.
Content: Fluff, Dorky Copia, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers
A/N: I'm gonna post the rest of the chapter here since I forgot to do that. Playlist for this fic is coming, thanks everyone for reading <3
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A few uneventful weeks have passed since the incident. During that time, you've dedicated yourself to studying and completing your duties as a Sibling of Sin. From the job that you were assigned to by The Ministry's administration, to doing other minor tasks, like cleaning the chapel and organizing the books in the library, you barely had any time for other leisure activities. With the anticipated summer approaching, you only found yourself buried under the never-ending pile of assignments that you needed to finish before the end of your course. The Ministry was bustling with life. Everyone was in high spirits knowing that the Summer Solstice Festival was getting closer every day. You wished you could share their enthusiasm, but a memory of a certain event has haunted you for weeks.
Embarrassed and flabbergasted, you decided to not think about that strange Cardinal until the memories of the whole event would eventually disappear. For a while, it actually worked. Not even a week after the whole ordeal, you managed to stop thinking about it almost completely. You found yourself thinking about your Ancient Languages course. Even as you stayed up, studying for exams, the event completely dropped your mind.
Yet, every time you saw any figure in a black cassock, your memories would betray you all over again. Each time you would see one of them walking somewhere and minding their own business; not paying attention to you in the slightest, your whole body would freeze in fear. You either stood or sat in place, not moving a muscle until you could get a closer look at their face. So far, you've never run into that peculiar man again. All the Cardinals you've seen turned out to be people you've never met before. None of them had a white eye.
You could remember those mismatched eyes as they stared at you in shock - the mark of favour. You did your reading on the topic and found out the meaning of the eye. It's a gift from the Olde one himself, one that signified a high position in his ranks. Only granted to men chosen by Him. It was an obvious sign that the man whom you had trampled the other day wasn't any other worshipper of Satan. It made you feel even more humiliated. Why you, out of all people, had to be put in that situation?
Sometimes, you felt pathetic for even thinking about that event still. If the said Cardinal wanted to punish or humiliate you for what had happened, he would've done so already. He didn't seek you out, and neither were you trying to identify him, so it felt silly to worry about it. You couldn't help it though. Your anxiety told you that everybody knew what had happened and they all thought you were a disgrace. Maybe, the fact that you haven't made any close friends in the Ministry so far, was one of the factors that contributed to your current mindset. Even though you had a person or two that you would speak to semi-regularly, you would eat most of your meals alone in the dining hall and spend your time in the quiet solitude of the library.
On a positive note, things started getting better. After what felt like an eternity of trying to fit in The Ministry, you had finally found a routine that suit you. You attended the lectures and worked hard as an assistant to Sister Isabella. She was a kind older woman, who worked as a supervisor of Garden's Maintenance. You helped her with organizing the meetings and schedules for Siblings of Sin that were taking care of the Ministry's greenery. From tasks like cutting grass to maintaining the fountains and plants. It was no surprise that Sister Isabella was often booked and busy. Keeping up with her tight schedule would prove to be quite difficult. You were sitting by a small desk in her office, talking with a meek Brother of Sin named Cornelius. You knew him from your Demonology course. Cornelius was always nice to you but preferred to keep to himself. He was nervously gesticulating with his hands. Trying to explain why he wouldn't be able to attend to the greenhouse in the East Garden the following Monday. Then, a loud knocking on the office's doors paused the awkward conversation.
"Yes? You may come in." You called out. Brother Cornelius found himself at a loss of words as an imposingly tall, masked figure opened the door and walked towards you. Putting a letter on your desk before bowing, the Ghoul left as quickly as he had come in. You recognized him as a messenger Ghoul, one that many higher-ups would use to deliver important parcels and letters. After a quick look at the letter that he left on your desk, you recognized the red wax seal on it. It was a signature of your Ancient Languages professor, Sister Alya.
"What is it, something important?" Cornelius asked curiously, trying to take a look at the piece of paper in your hands.
You hid it from his view, "No, it's nothing important. When it comes to the greenhouse, you need to find a Sibling that will switch their schedule with you." You passed him a sheet of paper with a few names on it. "I suggest you do it yourself, as it would take a long time to do it through me or Sister Bella. I'm sure that would be no problem since you all work in the same groups, correct? When you find someone willing to do that, let me know."
Taken aback by your firm response, Cornelius nodded his head shyly. He looked like he was about to say something before the nerves got the best of him. You gave him a quick smile before putting a few sentences down in your notebook. After Brother Cornelius had bid you farewell and left the office, you found yourself alone again. In the quiet privacy of Sister Isabella's empty office, you pulled out the wax-sealed letter and looked at it for a while.
A million thoughts raced through your mind, making your head throb. You had no idea why Sister Alya would send you a letter, and why she would use a messenger Ghoul. You always assumed they were asked to deliver very urgent messages, you couldn't think of anything urgent that she would need to tell you.
Realizing that you couldn't keep looking at the letter and thinking about the worst-case scenarios, you decided to open it. With a quick move, you've broken the seal and opened the envelope. Taking out the sheet of paper that was inside and reading through it carefully.
Sister,
I would like to speak with you. There's an opportunity that recently presented itself, and I'm sure it will interest you. I'm sorry if this message seems a bit cryptic, but I'm in a hurry as I'm writing this. Please come to my office today after dinner, I want to discuss this with you.
Yours truly,
Sister Alya Clemmons.
The paper felt expensive to the touch, it smelled of Sisters Alya's signature perfume. You stared at the black letters for a long while. You thought about every word before neatly folding the letter and putting it back in the envelope. It didn't sound that bad. Actually, the letter sounded positive. At least you knew you weren't in trouble, but the 'opportunity' that Alya mentioned did indeed sound cryptic. With a more positive attitude, you decided that you couldn't wait to find out.
You managed to finish filling in the paperwork before noon. When Isabella came back from her morning meeting with Sister Imperator, she was in a wonderful mood. You knew it meant that she would let you leave early.
"Finished already?" She asked, surprised. Her bright green eyes shone with some indescribable energy, one that was hard to find in a person her age. "Alright dear, you may go now. Go for a walk, and drink some coffee. Do you have any chores yet to finish?"
It wasn't unusual for Sister Isabella to bombard you with questions. They were always sweet, almost in a concerned grandma kind of way. You found it comforting that she was so worried about your well-being. Making sure that you were eating, getting fresh air and drinking enough water.
"No Sister, I'm pretty sure I don't have any chores left to finish today. I think I'm just gonna head to my room and take a nap," you answered, giving her a brief smile.
She nodded, "Alrighty then, enjoy your free day."
With that, you turned and headed to the exit. The heavy, oak doors closed behind you. The corridor outside was empty except for a group of Siblings of Sin standing by the window. Paying no mind to them, you turned right and began walking to the living quarters. You thought briefly about going to the canteen first and getting a coffee but got a better idea. Stopping for a moment to think, you turned swiftly on your heel and went in the opposite direction.
The weather was chilly and cloudy, leaving everybody feeling a bit under the weather. You were no exception, yawning loudly while pulling your black cardigan tighter around yourself. You felt sleepy, even though you got a full night of rest. It seemed everything and everyone was a bit sluggish, Sister of Sin passing you slowly like barely-awake zombies. Strolling through the hallways, you finally found yourself outside of the library.
The huge archway that led inside was barely lit up by a small chandelier hanging high up above your head. As you stepped inside, you found yourself in the grand library. Looking ahead, you had a view of the labyrinth of bookshelves on the ground floor and no soul in sight. A faint clicking of a typing machine could be heard somewhere in the distance, piercing the silence. Above you, there was the second floor of bookshelves, a skylight above that let the natural sunlight in and a huge, heavy-looking chandelier.
You made your way deeper into the library, passing by study desks hidden between the shelves. You passed by countless shelves filled with religious texts before finding yourself in the secular section. Never-ending rows of books sorted by different categories and arranged alphabetically surrounded you. So far, there wasn't a book that you wouldn't be able to find there. In the small Abbey you grew up in, most of the library’s assortment consisted of books on Satanistic practices and rituals, severely lacking in any other genres. Here, you could finally enjoy some popular literature. That’s why, on slow days such as this, you would find yourself there more often than not.
Tucked away in the corner of the library, on a beautiful ruby rug, stood two armchairs. Both of them were big in size and covered in delicate, red fabric. Right behind them, there was a window draped in thick, brown curtains. The soft cushions of the chairs looked so inviting when they came into your view. You approached the shelves first before heading to your favourite reading spot. Slowly scanning over the titles displayed, your hand lingered over a mysterious book you’ve been eyeing for some time now. Right before grabbing it, you changed your mind and reached for a collection of Poe’s short stories you’d started reading a while back. With the current weather, some murder mystery seemed to be a perfect choice.
You were finally about to make your way to the reading nook. So far, you’ve never run into anybody in that particular spot. You had a few places where you would go to wind down after a day of hard work, this one, in particular, was your favourite. You would change locations often, especially if this one was already occupied by someone. You last wanted to impose and interrupt someone’s alone time. That’s why, when you peeked through the gap between the neatly organized tomes onto the next aisle and saw a figure moving soundlessly among the shelves, you stopped in your tracks. A man adorned in a traditional black cassock was a few feet away from you, yet he didn’t even notice your presence. He was mumbling to himself, looking over the titles on the shelves while rubbing his chin in concentration. You were surprised you didn’t hear from or see him earlier. About to back out slowly, trying your hardest not to turn his attention from the books, you froze. Like a bolt of lightning striking you, you were shocked by a sudden realization.
Your eyes were immediately drawn to black circles of makeup surrounding his eyes and leather gloves covering his hands. They creaked quietly when he moved to place his palm against his forehead, sighing heavily. He unexpectedly moved in your direction and you felt all your insides drop. He walked past the spot from which you were looking at him, and went further down the aisle, before stopping suddenly, clapping his hands and letting out an audible “Ah!”. You watched as he picked one of the books and quickly skimmed through the pages. As quietly as you could, you moved closer and saw his white ghoulish eye moving quickly over the text. The other one of his mismatched irises was so dark you could barely distinguish it from his black paint. Now, you felt the familiar burning of hot embarrassment under your skin. Making you want to shrivel up and die. There was no mistaking it. It wasn’t just some ordinary cardinal, but THE cardinal. You remembered all too well his little pencil moustache and sideburns, the pale white paint covering his face. Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, you began to back away, your eyes not leaving the figure. Despite your obvious staring, he didn’t seem to notice you, or maybe he was pretending to be oblivious. Either way, he was in his own headspace, moving towards the reading corner with a book in his hand.
You were about to disappear behind the nearest bookshelves and dash out of there, when your back collided with something hard. A sudden wave of pain shot through your body, making you yelp. The hard corner of one of the shelves hit you right between your shoulder blades, shaking the whole construction shake. The sound of man’s footsteps came to a halt. You didn’t want to look in the direction of where you assumed he was. You contemplated if making a run for it was worth making a fool of yourself in front of a higher-up. From where you were standing, there was no way he wouldn’t see you leaving towards the main hall. You held your breath and kept your eyes on the carpet, waiting for the worst to happen.
“Is someone there?” He called out, the sound of his voice immediately familiar to you. He sounded like he got a bit startled though, his voice shaking with an almost pathetic edge to it.
You stayed quiet, biting your tongue. Your right hand flew to your face, covering your mouth and nose to muffle the sound of your breathing. Praying to Satan that the Cardinal would decide not to investigate further and move on, you held your breath.
The Unholy One seemed to be having one hell of fun toying with you, though. Seconds felt like hours as you waited for anything to happen when ever so slowly, a head peeked at you from the other aisle. First, you noticed his biretta, and then the rest of his head appeared. His stark white eye looked right at you, the look in it completely undecipherable. You felt as if your whole body was burning, sweat covering your skin underneath the uniform.
He seemed to have relaxed at the sight of you, his features softening. The cardinal heaved a sigh of relief as he came out of his hiding fully. He laughed, waving his hands around as he spoke, “Sweet Satanas! You scared the living daylight out of me, signorina! I thought I ran into another spirit roaming the building…”.
He stopped in his tracks. His mark of favour looked like it was glowing, piercing right through you. You felt small under his watchful gaze.
“Hello, Uhm, Cardinal.” You finally spoke up, waiting for his reaction. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” your hand played nervously with the hem of your cardigan.
“Yes, uh” He began but stopped himself. You wondered if he remembered you from that incident, causing him to act so uneasily. His eyes were now shifting all around the place, looking anywhere but you. He opened up his mouth, looking like he was about to say something, but no words left his mouth. His mannerism was nearly identical to what you saw all those weeks ago.
“So, what brings you here?” You inquired, albeit absent-mindedly. You immediately realised how stupid the question sounded, but you had to fill the awkward silence somehow. You watched as the man in front of you raised his eyebrows, his mouth agape.
“Of course, well, you see,” he stumbled with his own words, “I was sent here by Papa! Yes, Papa sent me here. To, uh, fetch him a book…”
You took a quick glance at the tome in his hands and realized it was one of those cheesy romance novels that were popular among the Siblings of Sin. There was a whole series of the said books by the same author in the library, and you often heard Sisters talking about them during lunch. As soon as he realized that you were looking at it, he hid it under his arm. You could swear his pale face got a bit darker in colour as his gaze shifted towards you.
“I didn’t know Papa enjoyed such literature,” you spoke, “I’m sorry for scaring you, Cardinal.”
He nodded, “No, I’m sorry for scaring you, Sister. I didn’t expect to find anyone here, heh.”
You only dreamed of leaving this place and going back to your dorm. Oh, how you wished you had gone back to your room when Sister Bella let you go. You waited for an opportunity to excuse yourself, but it seemed that Cardinal had other plans.
“I’m sorry Sister. I don’t think I got your name?” He asked politely, taking a cautious step towards you. As he got closer, you could now see that his dark eye was, in fact, a rich green colour. A detail that you seemed to forget about earlier.
You swallowed, about to introduce yourself, when a sound of laughter interrupted you. It was coming from somewhere in the library and getting closer, soon joined by the sound of voices and footsteps. There was a group of Sisters approaching, and for a moment you thought they sounded familiar. Cardinal clicked his tongue, “I think it’s my time to leave. It was wonderful seeing you here, Sister. I hope we’ll meet again soon, eh, see ya!”
“Yes, it was wonderful…” He didn’t even give you time to finish, giving you a quick smile before turning away from you and heading towards the main hall. He tripped on the edge of the carpet while doing so, almost falling face-first onto the floor. Miraculously, he regained his balance quickly enough to walk away. For a man as powerful as him, watching him act in such a dorky way was definitely endearing.
As he left, you heard brief pleasantries exchanged between him and the Sisters of Sin who were approaching. Soon enough, from between the tall bookshelves, emerged three girls. Among them, you recognized a familiar face.
“Oh! Hello!” Sister Erin called out to you, a warm smile gracing her features. “I would say I didn’t expect to see you here, but that would be a lie. How are you doing?”
You knew Sister Erin from your Ancient Languages lessons. In a way, she was the exact opposite of you. Extraverted, talkative and fearless, while you were too afraid to talk to people. Always afraid that you would make a fool of yourself. Also, while you were one of the best in the class, Erin would spend most of the lessons slacking off and doing anything but studying. You knew she didn’t care about her courses, only doing them to get a better position in the Ministry.
“I’m doing fine, thank you,” You answered, not looking at her face. Her curious brown eyes were slowly assessing you.
“You sure? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” She inquired, laughing quietly, “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be mean. By the way, I don’t think you guys know each other,” She said, gesturing towards her companions. This is Sister Marika and Sister Liza, they’re new here. Freshly transferred.”
You smiled politely, shaking their hands while giving them your name.
“By the way, there’s something I need to tell you,” Erin suddenly changed the subject, the tone of her voice getting serious.
Her words piqued your interest. You looked up, searching Erin’s face for any clues on what she was about to say, “What is it?”
“We saw Professor Alya on our way here, she was coming back to her office and she asked about you. I think she wants you to come to her office as soon as possible.” She explained, playing with a strand of her long, black hair. “I don’t know If you’re in trouble or not, but I’d hurry up If I were you,” As she finished, there was some playfulness to her voice.
Your whole face lit up at her words. She must’ve noticed it, “I assume it’s nothing bad then, right?”
You nodded, “Yes, thank you, Sister Erin. I’ll see you around.”
“Sure thing, bookworm. See ya.”
With newfound energy, you held the tome of Poe’s short stories under your arm while making your way out of the library. The corridors were empty as you made your way towards the East wing, your encounter with the mysterious Cardinal still fresh in your memory.
Your feet carried you towards your teacher’s office. The halls were quiet and empty on your way there, save for a few ghouls running around. Once you finally found yourself in front of the heavy, oak doors that led inside Sister Alya’s room, you stopped for a second. Sighing heavily, you tried to get your breathing under control before entering. You’d hate for her to figure out how nervous you were about seeing her. Not to mention you had giddily run almost all the way to the office wing, tiny droplets of sweat forming on your forehead. You hastily wiped them off and knocked on the door, awaiting the response.
Not even a few seconds later, the doors opened, and Sister Alya greeted you with a quick smile, “Sister, it’s good to see you. Please take a seat”.
She hurried you inside, motioning to an empty seat in front of her desk. You glanced at her workspace and realised how meticulously organized it was. Despite being so small and cramped. It was nothing like the mess in Sister Isabella’s office, or as she liked to call it; “controlled chaos”. You sat down in the chair, feeling Alya’s piercing gaze on you as she moved to the opposite side of the desk. The soft, velvety fabric of her office chairs felt pleasant under your palms. You watched as she sat down with a loud sigh.
“The weather is awful today, isn’t it?” She started, taking a cigarette out of a fancy dispenser standing on her desk. With delicate hands, she placed it between her black lips before lighting it. “I swear everyone is acting off because of it, haven’t you noticed?”
It took you a few seconds to realise that she was expecting you to answer, “Yes, Sister. I mean, Professor. I noticed everyone is a bit under the weather today,” You nodded sheepishly.
“Hmm.” she took a drag of the cigarette and exhaled the smoke. Looking at you with her green eyes, she inquired “Say, Sister, do you like when it’s gloomy outside?”
Surprised by her question, you took some time to answer, “Yes, I think so. I like it when it rains.”
In your head, you wondered what it was all about. You came here anticipating some news about this opportunity she mentioned in the letter. So far you’ve been greeted with awkward small talk about the most trivial and unimportant things. You answered politely, but deep down you couldn’t wait to get to the point. Growing frustrated, you moved around in your seat anxiously. Sister Alya seemed to catch up on your very subtle body language. She exhaled the grey cloud of smoke before sitting up straight and putting her elbows on the desk.
“I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark about the nature of our meeting, but you’ll be happy with what I’m about to tell you." Now, that piqued your interest, “Are you familiar with any high-standing clergy members? Cardinals, to be exact?”
“What do you mean by that?” You spoke without thinking, flabbergasted by her question.
“Do you know any of them, not personally of course? Are you aware of the amount of responsibility that comes with this position?”
You stared at her, mind going completely blank. Of course, you knew some of the most popular Cardinals. They would lead the Dark Masses more often than not. Aside from that, some of your fellow Siblings of Sin would gossip about them. Your mind conjured up the image of the Cardinal you ran into on two separate occasions. Immediately, you remembered his shocked face and funny pencil moustache. Shaking those thoughts away, you
“Yes, I believe I do recognize a few of them. I am also aware of their responsibilities. I know they take care of Dark Rituals. Depending on their positions they either work in archives or assist Papa in his duties." you said, your hands mingling with the hem of your habit in your lap as you spoke. Sister Alya seemed satisfied with your answer, distinguishing her cigarette in an ashtray before readjusting her short, brown hair and looking at you.
“I’m glad to hear that. Now tell me, Sister, have you heard of Cardinal Copia?”
You shook your head, “No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him or had the pleasure to meet him,”.
“I’m not surprised to hear that. He’s a senior member of the Clergy, been here for many years. He’s not a very… public person, so to say. Not popular amongst the Congregation, but he’s well respected in his own circles,” she took out another cigarette and lit it up. You recalled that during her Latin lectures, she would often take cigarette breaks. You wondered, how did she manage to keep her voice healthy enough to teach Siblings of Sin, “He hasn’t given a sermon in years. Cardinal is a very unusual person, keeping to himself and all. Yet, he is still a brilliant scholar and very successful in what he does. He used to be a Latin teacher, too. For many years, actually, before he climbed up in the hierarchy and gave up on the position. He translated many ancient texts and sermons,”
You listened patiently, wondering what it all had to do with you. You watched as rings on Alya’s fingers glimmered, and then you looked behind her, outside her office window. You noticed that the sun had come out from behind the clouds.
“That’s very interesting, but what does it have to do with me?” you finally inquired when silence befell the room.
“There was a meeting today, of the whole Congregation. I don’t want to bore you with the details, but during the meeting, Cardinal Copia insinuated that he would like an assistant who would help him with the work. I told him you’ll be willing to take the position,” She finally said, waiting for your reaction.
“What? Why me?” You were shocked. It was absurd, how was getting new responsibilities thrown at you supposed to be exciting? You felt anxiety growing in you, slowly making you lose your head. All a sudden, the small space of Alya’s office felt almost claustrophobic.
“Calm down, Sister. I only did this because working directly under a Cardinal is a wonderful opportunity. He can help you learn things that you could never learn during the lectures. Think of it as an apprenticeship.”
You doubted that. The prospect of giving up on your current job for Sister Isabella, and diving head-first into the unknown, was horrifying. Especially now, that you finally got comfortable with your routine. You felt like things were finally getting better. But, the things that she had told you about Cardinal Copia made you stop and think. If he was so respected and such a gifted scholar, then maybe you could learn from him. You heard about Siblings of Sin who had no trouble getting the best jobs in the Ministry after working as assistants for senior Clergy members. Not to mention, the whole purpose of your relocation to the Ministry was for the sake of gaining experience as a future scholar. Almost as if she could see the gears turning in your head, Professor Alya sat back and smiled.
“I see you need to think about it. If I were you, though, I would take it. Of course, you would have to give up on working for Sister Isabella. I know it's hard considering how cosy your current position is, but I can assure you Cardinal Copia is no tyrant. I’ve spoken to him many times and he seems to be a very kind man, albeit a bit strange” She said.
You looked at her, thinking of something to say, “I’m beyond grateful for the opportunity you’ve presented me with. I need time to think about it,”
“Yes, I understand,” she hesitated a bit before, gathering her thoughts. For a brief moment, you thought she was going to say something.
“Yes, is there anything else you need my help with?”
“Oh, nothing. I'm wondering. You know you can always come and talk to me when you make up your mind, yes?”
“Yes, I know that. May I go now?”
As if taken aback by your sudden and firm response, Professor Alya sighed and sat back in her chair. Not taking her eyes off you, she spoke “Yes, Sister. You may go now, and enjoy your day off.”
Something deep inside you told you that you wouldn’t. You got up from the chair, almost knocking down a lamp that stood next to the desk. Embarrassed, you apologised before walking out of the office. Professor Alya shook her head in amusement as she watched you leave, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
“Now, this is gonna be interesting”.
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harryleatherfit · 9 months
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Upper East Side || A.U || Frankie Morales
Chapter 11: Opening Night
Frankie Morales x F!Reader
Word Count: 7.8K (i was gonna keep going but Warnings: mentions of fucking bad family, unprotected p in v (um), oral f receiving, mentions of sub space (when you squint at the end), spanking, hard fucking, tit sucking, some fluff, performance on stage, lmk if i’ve missed any
Authors Notes: let me know what you guys think! genuinely this is the longest thing i’ve written but i fear i’ll be hated for the next few chapters 😵‍💫 i love you guys ♾️
Chapter Playlist
Jungle Fever- The Chakachas
Somebody Like You- Bree Runway
Lust For Life- Lana Del Ray
🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩
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Opening night, electricity filled your body. You woke up with light peeking through your window, you stared at the dust particles floating around, you wish you could stay here forever. Both nights were sold out, your heart racing thinking you had to be on stage tonight. Performing in front of thousands excited you on second thought. You loved the crowd, the air, the excitement as you smiled. You had gotten leads at UNCSA, but nothing could compare to this. You didn’t know where you lay in the acting world at all, but you had to remember that no matter what you would be yourself on the inside.
You had gotten up before Laylah, Rose, and Hannah, making coffee and staring at the sun. You were hoping Frankie was up looking at the same sun. You did breath exercises, prepping your lungs for the amount of talking you had to do for the next few days. Setting your headspace was most important to you. You were scrolling on your phone and Frankies name popped up in the corner of the screen.
New Message:
Frankie: Can you come early to the theater? Somethin I wanna show you.
You: My call times at 3, want me to come at 12?
Frankie: 11.
You: Okayyy, need me to bring food?
Frankie: No, assistants already brought a shit load, I need to see you.
You: Packing my bags as we speak🥱
“Hey hotstuff,” Laylah walks out of your room, yawning, “Smells good. Ready for your big day?”
“Ready as I can ever be.” You shrug, embracing the heat of your coffee cup. The mornings were always so cold.
“Anything planned for the morning?”
“Well, he asked me to come in early, something to show me.” You whisper.
“Oh shit, damn ok,” They get excited, “Have fun gettin old man dick.”
“Laylah!” You laugh.
“Nah, I bet it’s good. Look at him.”
“Believe me I know.”
“Have you guys fucked yet?” They nudge.
“No, but I'm not even sad. So many times guys just want to immediately fuck and it’s such a massive turn off.” You explain, “He’s soft and gentle with me, never in a rush.”
“Yeah me and Bryce haven't done the deed yet. Have high hopes for him. And he also uses my correct pronouns so yay men!” They cheer.
“Well here’s to fucking men I guess.” You click your coffee in the air, “Is he treating you right?”
“We haven’t done much aside from hangout during rehearsals and stuff, so after we’ll actually have time to be with each other.”
“You should go with him after the show tonight, get dinner and walk around the city.” You suggest.
“I think that’s what I’ll do.” They hug you, “My beautiful astonishing Lady Macbeth, I’ll see you tonight.”
-----
You arrive at the theater, New York Streets bustling with people at this hour. Broadway never fails to have thousands of people in and out. Tonight was going to be a big one. Book of Mormon was on, but that show was always on broadway and Macbeth was only on for two nights.
You wondered how many stars were going to come, how many people you loved that would come to see your show. How many playbills you were going to get to sign.
Your interaction with Wes Anderson made you think about your spine, your eyebrow conjecture, the way you present yourself and your character on stage. Everything had to be different. Mattias had a pep talk with you before you left the theater, no matter what happens on this stage, we both know we have put our souls into this show.
It was true, there’s no need to stress about impressing people.
You set your bad down at the entrance, seats already blocked off, ushers clocking in their hours.
“Hey, up here.” Frankie calls up from the theater's booth, “It’s set up a little differently here, Broadway has way more money than our school could ever imagine,” You walk up the steps, “I know so much bigger than our little shabby room at the school.” You take in the scenery of the room.
“I bet you’ve worked here a lot though, right? I mean this is like your job, to do shows for the college, teach the building basics of theater, and fucking work Broadway shows.” How could he act like this wasn’t a big deal.
“Honey, my job is cool and all but doesn't mean I enjoy it. Long hours, having to meet people's demands, spicy celebrities, whiney actors.” He purrs.
“Hey! I’m not whiney, you’re the whiney one, arguing with everyone who pisses you off.”
You hug him, he’s sitting on a stool in front of the lighting board, “I wanted to be an actor actually, but never went through. I never had the courage to do bigger roles and my dad was always focused on my brother. So I just went into tech, it’s easier anyways.” He mumbles.
“Sometimes I wish I went into tech, being an actor is fucking hard,” You stare at him, “Why’d you quit acting? You could never be second to anyone.” You rub his face, hands lingering on his porno stash, his scruff felt like lightening under your fingers.
“When we were in our twenties, he’s a little bit older than I am, he was breaking through the stock market and everyone was shocked. I mean he broke through after 9/11 so he was everywhere.
My dad was disappointed that I wanted to do theater and acting and not anything business related. I was doing mini side jobs for Broadway and small film roles. I went to Spain for some time. Until I started doing this I was finally important to my family.” You back off from him, circling the room.
He hasn’t talked to you about his family too much, he said he’s an open book but you didn’t want to push him too much.
“Sad boring people want to go into the stock market. Margot Robbie was the only interesting thing about Wolf of Wall Street by the way,” You chide, “You're not a fucking disappointment, you’re motivated. You create worlds for people to see, you have so much passion. I wish I was you.”
He moves from his chair, standing up, he’s way taller than you
“Smart girl, go turn off the lights.”
“Frankie,” You stare at him, “We can’t, you know we can’t.” Even though you fucking want to.
“We’re not,” He laughs, “Just go turn them off, I want you to see this.”
You do as told, flipping the switch and returning to your sanctuary.
“Lay down and look up, cmon I’ll do it with you.” He instructs.
You find your way in the dark, glimmer from the ceiling illuminating the room. You lay down as you feel his body next to yours.
“See the ceiling? It’s stars, they painted stars in here for the actors to relax before shows. I’ve done shows here before and they always help me even before a long tech run.” He whispers, the ceiling reminds you of a galaxy, calming and beautiful. He moves to your neck, smelling your hair. You could bathe in his after shave, bask his cologne. He always smelled so expensive.
“Don’t get too comfortable pretty girl, someone could walk in.”
“Then don’t smell so fucking good.” You shove him away, laughing to your side. The pain in your lower abdomen could never subside when you were around him.
“I have something to give to you now, but would you wanna come over to my place later? We could get food, or walk around, or if you want to go back to your place after the show home then we can go there, orwecanjustleave-”
“Shhh,” You shove your finger to his lips, “I would love to go to your place tonight, please. We can finally be alone. Finally be with each other without anyone interrupting us.”
“Ok, ok.” He shakes his head like a giddy boy, “ Oh baby you’re gonna do amazing tonight.,” He kisses you quickly “Before I set up, I wanted to give you these.” He fumbles into his jeans pocket, pulling out two VIP Caroline Polachek tickets.
“No fucking way, you did not do this. Frankie, you did not spend this money.” You squeal.
“Stop, I didn’t spend any money gorgeous. I pulled some strings and magically got them.”
He hands them to you, they were metallic with black printing of the venue and time, with her name in this beautiful ceryllic, you couldn't imagine being in her presence. You’ve wanted to see her since the beginning of college, but you never had the money to go. Since her breakup from Chairlift, you fell in love with her artistry. She was meticulous about what she exposed to the world and you wanted to be like her.
“A little something for an opening night present, and the concert’s before your recital. A win-win.”He looks at you, “I know her new album came out and I know her producer, maybe you’ll get to meet her.” He winks. Get to meet your fucking idol? You were shocked but it was Frankie, of course he would do something like this.
“Don’t worry about tonight darlin,” He holds you, “This weekend is gonna be amazing.”
------
Is this the real life, is this just fantasy caught in a landslide. No escape from reality.
Bohemian Rhapsody was blaring throughout the dressing rooms, never able to run away from Freddie Mercury.
After your soiree with Frankie, you had gone to freshen up, prep your hair and skin. Ate a protein bar and met with Mattias. You blindly went over your scenes, and then he offered some cigarettes You shouldn’t have, but you did.
You fled out the back, door checking to see if anyone would see you. Not that it would matter but felt too familiar. You found a cozy spot, wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket the team gave you and lit one up with him. You felt like you were a teenager in high school again, smoking before a show to ease the nerves.
Passing on local tradition.
“You’ve got any family coming tonight?” He opens his zippo lighter.
“Nah, just my friends, I don’t have family up here. You?”
“Mom and dad, they weren’t too happy I came to this school but it’s starting to grow on them” He taps his cigarette, “Anyone special coming tonight?”
“Something like that. It’s recently new with him and I, but he’ll be here.” You blow smoke,“You?”
“I just broke up with my boyfriend so probably not. We’ll see.”
“Ahh Mattias, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay, just means I’ll be clubbing fucking extra tomorrow night at the afterparty, are you excited?”
“Fuck I forgot about that, I haven’t clubbed in years.”
“It’s at this hoity toity place in the Upper East Side, not The Box I promise but it’ll be fun as fuck. The directors are supposed to come, like the whole school is going to show up.”
The fucking Box. Frankie being there.
Flashbacks of Frankie fingerfucking you agasint the bathroom counter race through your mind, you couldn’t understand how bad you wanted him. The one person in your life that has changed your entire being.
You guys finish your cigarettes, small talk with him was so easy. Giggling about the shit you’ve seen in high school and college as theater majors. Mattias knew what the struggle was like, he knew the difference between stage anxiety and general anxiety. You guys were the perfect pair on stage.
“You go head on in Ms. Macbeth, get your shit done and I’ll see you soon sweet cheeks.”
-------
“So at 3 tomorrow the whole cast has an interview with The New Yorker.” Ms. Roylance announces, it’s an hour before show.
“And the main 2 have an interview with Vogue at 5.”
Vogue, what the shit.
Tech crew, all the actors and directors were in a circle, saying a couple final words before curtains would go up.
Across from you, Laylah and Bryce are holding hands and Frankie is talking to Mr Miller.
You were trying to calm your heart rate, you felt comfortable with everyone around you, but if you sit in a dark closet and rehearse for the last hour you would.
“I want us to hold hands, close our eyes and say one word we're feeling, and the last 30 minutes before show we can just roam in the back, hows that sound?” Roylace gages the group. Everyone agrees, clasping hands, shutting eyes and embracing each other's energy. It’s the best you can do.
“I’ll start, pleased.” She finishes.
“Happy.”
“Elated.”
“Horrified.”
“Worried.”
“Terrified.”
“Thrilled.” Bryce bellows.
“Overjoyed.” Laylah says.
“Light.”
“Captivated.” You immediately knew that was Frankie, his voice, the utmost bass in his voice. Shakes you alive. You open your eyes, looking at everyone around you, soaking up your last minutes with everyone before you break apart.
“Wondrous.”
“Flamboyant.”
“Flustered.”
“Scared.”
It’s your turn, you’ve had the whole circle to think about this, “Content.” Your eyes closed, the mid stage lights shining on you, the murmurs from the full crowd behind the red curtain, the smiles on all your faces, you’re ready.
“Happy.”
“Petrified.”
“Euphoric.”
The last words slip into the air, opening your eyes exasperated.
“Places in 40.” Frankie says.
Everyone separates, straggling across the stage, getting to their righteous spots but you stay. It only feels right and you know he will stay with you.
As soon as everyone is out of sight, he gets closer to you, but not daring to touch your hand. You watch him go to the middle of the curtain, he opens it slyly only to peek through to the crowd.
“Wanna come see?” He asks.
You walk downstage to him, setting in stone to his exact steps, letting one eye peek through the red fabrics and the whole crowd is lively, everyone is dressed so elegantly. The laughs, the people finding their seats. Ushers smiling. House lights dimmed sensually. This is what Broadway is about. Your jaw drops, but you wouldn’t let this dare scare your heart, you’re fucking ready for this.
“See, they are all here for you and Mattias, they are here to see the most wonderful production of the year and because of you, you bring the feisty energy they need.” He whispers into your ear. You shudder, almost tears of happiness, you had no stage fright anymore. “Now fucking blow there minds away baby.”
-------
The raven himself is hoarse, that croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan, under my battlements. Come, you spirits, that tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
Of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood, stop up th’ access and passage to remorse, that no compunctious visitings of nature, shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between, th’ effect and it. Come to my woman’s breasts
And take my milk for gall, you murd’ring ministers, wherever in your sightless substances, you wait on nature’s mischief. Come, thick night, and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, that my keen knife see not the wound it makes, nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark
To cry “Hold, hold!”
Make me fucking human.
For more or less, there was no crowd in front of you. Just Mattias holding your hand. Rebirth. Refinery. Frankie watching you from the booth, admiring every step you take. Acting is simple, people pleasing is simple, it’s melodic from making up the emotions on the spot and zoning through the waves of the artistry. It’s for the people, acting is a service. You’re giving your heart out to the world.
You follow your footwork with Mattias, Macbeth and Lady Macbeth, husband and wife. Forcing your husband to follow through with your plan, killing the king. So detrimental.
You rush to the wings, dipping your newest costume with blood. Lady Macbeth is a woman of thrill and duty, she would do anything for her husband, and you know how that feels. You soak yourself with the sticky substance, getting it all over your face, fingerprints of deadly sins.
Hands so poignant with red, your heart could be falling out and no one would notice. Cue.
My hands are of your color, but I shame, to wear a heart so white, I hear a knocking
At the south entry, retire we to our chamber, a little water clears us of this deed, how easy is it, then! Your constancy, hath left you unattended, hark, more knocking, get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us, and show us to be watchers, be not lost so poorly in your thoughts.
You move the rest of the act, sit down through act 4, nothing involving you and finally act 5.
You mess around your hair, flick blood on your lips and action.
Out, damned spot, out, I say! One. Two. Why then, ‘tis time to do’t. Hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?
Instantaneously you have flashbacks when you were a child. In your cold room alone, dad and mom are fighting. This always fucking happened. The yelling would make you cry, but you learned how to get over it, you accepted that was your life. But now you’re safe, now you’re with people who love you and want the best for you. Men could never have control over you, ever again.
Do you mark that?
The Thane of Fife had a wife. Where is she now? What, will these hands ne’er be clean? No more o’that, my lord, no more o’that. You mar all with this starting.
Go to, go to. You have known what you should not.
She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that. Heaven knows what she has know.
The moment you’ve been waiting for,
Here’s the smell of blood still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand-
You don’t hold back, you dig into the crevices of your voice box, finding every follicle in your body to scream. To scare this crowd. You aren’t a little girl. Lady Macbeth is a story to never be let down. You drop to the floor, shrieking your mind away, begging for air and life. Letting the blood on you trickle with slobber and tears.
The exhaustion mixed with the heat of your scream made your head spin, but the crowd was silent- you lay there hiccuping for a minute, letting the waves of grief pass by.
What a sigh there! The heart is sorely charged.
I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whale body.
Well, well, well.
Pray God it be, sir.
The disease is beyond my practice. Yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds.
You shiver, shaking over to the edge of the stage,
To bed, to bed. There’s knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come. Give me your hand. What’s done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.
You exit, and the audience erupts in roars. They quickly sit back down, as there’s more dialogue with the doctor and gentlewoman, but not one moment did you hesitate to throw yourself into your monologue. It felt so powerful, unbelievably life changing.
The show finishes, sitting in the wing as your castmates finish the last monologue. Opening night was one for the books. You all line up for bows, tech right behind you, the curtain opens up and finally the moment you’ve wanted. Not the applause, but able to see Frankie in that chair, just staring at you. All you’ve wanted today is to be with him, but your performance was truly dedicated to him, he was the one that shocked your headspace, he’s the one that makes you want this all. You each take your singular bow, your feet wobbling, walking to the end, tearing up with this crowd, the graciousness you felt.
The standing ovation of the crowd was magnificent, every section clapping for minutes, no soul daring to leave their seats. New York, what a beautiful city. The strong whistles, the numerous claps, the chatter warmed your heart. Roses being sent your direction, hearts shown with hands.
Your crew was instructed to go back to your dressing rooms, clean up, hang your costumes and prepare everything the same for tomorrow, then you could go greet people if you wanted to.
Before you knew it, Mattias was dragging you out to the street, to see all the fans lining up on the street waiting to get their playbills signed.
You only wanted to find Frankie and Laylah, but you didn’t have one second to revive for yourself.
Mattias thrashes with your hand, opening the back door to the cold howling air, embraced by cheers,
“We love you guys.”
“I cried at your performance.”
“We’re coming tomorrow night”
“Lady Macbeth saved me.”
“I love you.”
Screams and shrieks were surrounding you, it’s not that you couldn’t believe it, but your heart was overpowered and overjoyed. So much in one sitting, your head turning in every which way, grabbing sharpies and scribbling your name as fast as possible.
One lady stands out, she’s quiet but vigilant, waiting for it to be her turn, and the closer you get you notice,
“Ms. Kim?” You could barely recognize her, it’s only been 4 months.
“My honey sugar, look at you!” She hugs you, tighter than a mothers hold, “Your teacher Mr.Miller gave me a shout and I booked my flight immediately, I couldn’t miss your Broadway performance.” She shakes her head.
“Ms. Kim, you didn’t have to do this, I could’ve sent you a picture, or a notecard, or a playbill.”
“Now that’s nonsense honey and you know that,” She swats your shoulder with her playbill copy, “Besides I know the whole team here, no need to worry I’m here for a week, so a coffee catch up is on your list after this weekend.”
The things that you could tell her.
“I miss you, I miss North Carolina.” You hug her again, breathing down her back, trying to not let people see your tears. She was there for you when you missed your mom, she was North Carolina in a summary, and you missed it so much.
“It’s okay sweetie, you were meant to leave that state it had nothing to offer, look at this,” She pointed at all the people, “This was your destiny.” She kisses you on the cheek, “I’ll text you for a coffee date, but go spend the night away.” She smiles.
“I love you!”
“I love you too honey.”
You leave her in the crowd, finding Mattias taking a picture with a group of girls. You tell him you’re gonna head back in to get your bag, to check your phone and possibly run into Laylah, find Frankie. Unlatching the door, the air rushing in your face, Laylah was already there with Bryce waiting for you.
“You did amazing! These flowers are for you,” They smother you, “The shock in the audience when you dropped to the floor, you stretched all of their hearts out.”
“Thank you.” You laugh, holding their hands, best friends working on Broadway together, your 16 year old selves would be thrashing down right now.
“My guys in the booth couldn’t believe they were at a college show, you and Mattias rocked it.” Bryce says.
“Thank you, that means the world. Seeing all the full seats was just fucking mind blowing and I’ll have to say that a million times to process.”
“We love you, were gonna get dinner now,” They wink, “See you tomorrow? Same time, same place?”
“Same time, same place.” You agree.
They grab your arm, pulling you close, “Get that dick tonight.”
You laugh so loud it refracts around you, we’ll see.
They leave you, content with the night. Smiling dumb because now finally you get to be with the man you’ve been itching to see.
You call him,
“Hey pretty girl, I was waiting to hear from you.”
“Sorry I was out signing playbills with Mattias. Working the night off.” You respond.
“Don’t be sorry, s’busy night for you. How d’you feel?”
“Good, Frankie, I feel amazing.” Seducing him over the phone, itching for him.
“That’s my star girl, shining so bright on that stage.” He smiles in the phone, you can feel it.
“Where are you right now?” You ask.
“In my car, just watching the sky.”
“And where would that be?”
“Behind the theater and the crowd, come find me princess.”
“Ok Playboy, I’ll see you in a second.”
You end the call, chucking your bag behind your back. You slowly walk to the door, finally entering a world you can’t step back out of. Reminiscing when you had no idea what the fuck you two were.
You sprawl out, no one would be here at this time of night. He’s smoking a cigarette, convertible top down. Collar open and his hat is off, puffed locks chasing every direction. He looks up to you.
“Frankie, an Ashton Martin Convertible?”
“Yeah.”
You stare at him, some fucking longer. “I don’t know, just an Ashton Martin roaming the streets, a really nice car I’ve only heard in books.”
“Would you feel better if you knew I saved a couple paychecks for this.” He raises his eyebrows.
“Sure.” So he had money, money. Double shit.
You get in and he stares at you, flickering between your lips and eyes. You could jump him now, but you had to wait. You liked the game.
“Food, bar, coffee, books, my house? What’s your wish tonight?” He holds your hand.
“Hmmm your house remember? Wouldn’t pass that up for a lifetime.” You remark.
He nods, setting the car in gear. You flicker your hands to his cigarette, he lets you take it and the drag of his menthol cigs felt smooth on your throat. Menthol and Frankie just make sense.
He’s playing Pink Floyd, blasting it through the dark streets of the city, and all you can do is smile stupidly. Your hair flying everywhere, hands perpetually finding the power of the wind, eyes closed.
You feel his hand sneak to your thigh, creeping to your body. Speaking to you through your mind. If his hand could do that now, what else would happen tonight? He moves further and further up your leg, eyes shooting open at him.
“What?” He turns to you, stopped at a light.
You grind your teeth, his hand was big enough to almost cover your whole thigh.
“You say something?” He smirks.
You wince as his hand lays on your skin, never moving but lingering so close where you crave his fingers.
A guitar ripple catches your attention from the speakers, he’s strumming to the beat on your thigh, and you can’t move.
“And we’re here darlin, what do you think?”
He parks in front of a modern brownstone, pillars glossing the entrance like a greek house. Bigger brownstone than usual. Everything about him makes sense, the expensive taste made sense, but this house was beautiful.
You take a breath, “It’s beautiful, Frankie. I couldn’t imagine anything different.” You’re scared to get out, but you itch to find what’s inside. He closes the top to the car, running around to open your door.
“Cmon pretty girl, don’t be shy.” He holds your hand out, he walks behind you up the stairs, punching in a code you looked away for.
“3570, didn’t need to look away baby, that codes yours.” He whispers to you, walking into his house.
Your first steps are met with roses, sprawled on the outskirts of the floor. His first floor, open for the world to see. Piles of roses, rose petals begging for your touch, he grabs your hips pulling you to him. “This is all for you.” You stand there with him, holding you. No man has ever gone this far to express something for you.
Grand piano deep into the room, kitchen with a marble island, champagne with two glasses full for you both, one staircase with golden spiraling leading to the top on the side. White columns and archways holding the house.
“And one person lives here?” You poke.
“Yes, but I quite enjoy it,” He lugs you closer to the kitchen to set your stuff down, “This is the house I dreamed of as a boy.”
“Well, it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like this.” You ponder around like a child lost at Disney.
The back archway was all glass, you could see a light on outside to his backyard. His dining table to the wall of glass, next to the greenery. He had a conversational pit as his couch, dark green leather with faux fur overthrows. His TV was massive, and next to it were beautiful oil paintings.
He had shelves as a wall, lined with books and vinyls. Years of purchasing and collecting.
You take a peak, letting your hands run across the dusty spines.
“The Chakachas, João Gilberto…hmm Gerry Rafferty” You laugh, “Your music taste…is sexy Francisco.” He’s watching your every move.
“What can I say, I’m a cultured man.” He smugs a smile. He’s behind you, raining his fingers around your waist, you take Jungle Fever out of its sleeve, placing it on his record player.
“Just to set the mood don’t you think?” You snicker, “Have you seen Boogie Nights? You do look like a young Burt Renolds, scary kinda.”
“I get that sometimes, you like that darlin? Like broad-“ Kiss, “Hairy men?”
You dance with him to the music, listening to the women's moans of the song. Letting the dim lights glisten around his living room.
Moaning in his ear, grinding against him. Melting into his body.
“I love it.” You purr, “He was so sexy, don’t you think? That playboy pose he did made everyone in the seventies go crazy. I’d let him fuck me on spot if I was alive back then-”
He laughs, “Hmp, you wanna get fucked?” His head turns to the side, mouth curving open, with his eyebrows falling inward.
Your mouth falls, drooling over his voice. You hold onto his hair, sheething his body into yours, “Fuck me tonight Frankie, fuck me hard.” You whisper.
A lion raptures through his physicality, lifting you up to the closest thing, the Grand Piano.
“Frankie, we can't do anything here, I’ll break it!”
“I don’t care princesa, I don’t care, I’ll eat you out for hours and it could break, I’ll pay for another one.” He growls, “I need to taste this pussy now.” He set you down, looking you in the eyes as a rabid beast. His eyes were blown black, glaring at you for more.
He pulls your shorts down leaving you in just your shirt, your bottom half bare in front of him. “Mmh, no panties,” He chuckles, “What brought you to do this miel?”
“I figured there's no point, you’d rip them off anyway.” You shrug, head slating on the lid of the piano. Goosebumps rising on your body, the cold of the instrument touching your ass, air meeting the gloss of your entrance.
“Perfect fucking pussy, perfect fucking body. My girls so fucking perfect.” He spreads kisses down to your stomach, leaning when he reaches your mound. You grimace, you haven’t shaved in a long time.
“It’s okay baby, see?” He presses his hand on top of your sex, “Hair doesn’t change a thing how I feel about you. Hair doesn’t change a thing about how I want to fuck your brains out, okay?.” He kisses on top of your bush, shivering when you feel the wet of his lips with his mustache, nose bracing your clit. “I’m the only one that gets to touch your pussy like this, understand?”
You shake your head yes, “Only you can touch me.”
“Look at me, look at me while I destory your fuckin pussy.” He pushes your legs closer to him, eye level with your pussy. You wouldn't believe you’ve gone hours without this, without his tongue. He adamantly drives into your cunt, moaning as he shoves his tongue inside you.
He moans, the usual vibrations of his mouth floating through your lower abdomen. Cells inside your pussy sensationally fucked up from his mouth.
The tip of his nose would rub against your clit, he always managed to do it, but this time he was moving his face. His nose was creating circles against your nub, tongue squeezing the life out of you.
“Frankie- ngh- baby- feels so good- keep going-” You plead. Instead of grabbing his hair, you wrapped your hands around the edges of the piano, keeping your body from contorting due to the immense pleasure.
Your request followed through, he kept circling, shaking his head between your thighs. He would never let up, swallowing everything your cunt had for him.
“Pussy on my tongue, so tight. Pussy walls are quiverin for me baby.” He groans, dancing his hands to your stomach, legs dangling over his shoulders.
“Hold onto my hands dirty girl, I know you’re strong, cum in mouth.”
He raffles inside you more, squeezing his hands so your body doesn’t escape from his touch. Your clit suddenly buzzes, repeatedly shaking. Your walls come crashing on his tongue, he doesn’t stop pushing into you.
You scream for help, violently shaking against his hold. You couldn’t control your voice, begging for more. You can’t do anything other than yell because the movement form his tongue
“I’m gonna cum Frankie, I’m gonna cum on your tongue-” You cry.
“Give it to me, drip into my mouth.” His sinister base flows through your pussy, the room spins and you shriek against the piano. He sucks you clean from your orgasm, releasing his hold from you.
“Breathe baby, breathe.” The fuzziness of the lights die down, and his face comes in contact again.
“Your tongue- is fucking magical.” You drunkenly smile, “But I want more tonight. Please.” He pulls you off the piano, leaving a sweat mark on the top. You plant your feet to the ground, he holds your body up.
He chuckles, “Tell me what you want mi amour, what is it that you want?” He taunts.
“Fuck you, you know what I want.” You seethe.
“Ok,” He nods his head, “If you think I know, then fuck yourself for me. Go down to the couch, take your shirt off, and fuck yourself with your fingers.”
He had your full attention and you feel small, you’ve never done anything like this in front of a man.
“Go on princess, I’ll be right here.”
You faintly walk to his couch, slipping past the steps. You sit down at the edge of the couch, taking your shirt and shifting your bra off your chest. You’re completely naked in front of him, nipples begging for his touch.
“Play with yourself for me, pretty girl.”
You snake your hands down to your entrance, fiddling with your slick. You touch your clit, but it feels nothing like his hands.
“Frankie please, I need your cock.” You whine.
“You should’ve just said that, now look at you, yeah?” He walks to the steps, sitting down, “I need to you to cum on your fingers before I fuck you, I wanna see it.”
You hum, discoing your fingers on your clit, you imagine his cock finally slipping inside of you. What you’ve wanted since you’ve laid eyes on him.
“Push those fingers inside, think of my cock dirty girl.” He growls, looking you up and down.
You plunge your fingers inside, moving your hips against your hand. Wishing to have his thick cock inside you.
“Frankie, I’ll be so good, please. I want you inside me. I want you holding me down, I wanna be filled with you.” You mumble, terrorizing your hand.
“Wanna be a good girl for me? Fuckin tie you down, fuck you until soak me.” You shovel your fingers inside your cunt faster, imagining yourself restrained against his bed. His cock pushing into you at an unforgivable speed. “You’d like that huh dirty fuckin girl. Not able to move while I fuck your cunt, fillin you up til you feel it in your stomach.”
You slant your eyes open,” I want you to tie me up one night Frankie, be your-fucking rope bunny. Want you to use my pussy.”
“I wanna do everything with you, dirty girl, so perfect.”
You feel yourself tightening around your hand, his words making you interclose on your hand.
You would never be able to make yourself cum this fast because of your fingers, but because of him, because of his coaxing words, your own orgasm felt stronger.
“I can it hear baby, I see you leakin, cum for me, let go. Then I’ll give you my cock for as long as you want. Shove those fingers in for me.” He purrs.
You fall back on his couch, wavering your body to your orgasm. You gave a final push, laying stagnant from your orgasm. You watch him stroll to you from his steps.
He’s hungry.
“So gorgeous, so wet for me.” He smirks, “Now what do you want, so perfect and plump for me.”
“I want your fucking cock, I need you inside me Frankie.” You tremble.
He licks his lips, sitting down on the couch, “Don’t wanna do anything you’re not comfortable with pretty girl,” He moves your hair behind your ears, “Is this how you want me? Let me get a condom.”
You push him down, you should use a condom but you couldn’t be less botherd, “You could’ve fucked me in that bathroom and I would’ve cared less Frankie, fucking on this couch will be more than heaven,” And it is, “Don’t worry about a condom, I need to feel you bare.” He goes to object, but you shove your fingers to close his mouth.
Your eyes linger on his cock, he’s already swelling, “I wanna do everything with you Frankie, you could never make me uncomfortable.”
You close in to the crook of his neck, kissing him everywhere, praising him for making you feel so good, “I need you to fuck my brains out, make it hurt Frankie.”
Without blinking, he lifts you to his lap, placing your naked pussy on him. He kisses you sloppily on the lips, holding you close so you don’t fall, he growls possessing more of you.
“My beautiful girl, I’ve been waitin for this to happen, been dreamin of you sitting on my cock. I’m so glad we’ve waited, it’s gonna feel so good baby.”
You rub against him, letting your liquid leak all over him.
“I’ve been so good Frankie, I’ve been trying so hard not to think about your cock, when you were down my throat all I wanted was to be full of you everywhere.” And now-” You shimmy his shirt off, kissing his collar bones, rushing to his belt.
He flings it off slamming it to the ground, you look past it as it impacts the floor, making a hard whipping sound.
“Bet you’d like that naughty girl, fucking whip until you’re red. Tie you up with my belt.” You squirm against him, humping his bulge.
Images of Frankie whipping your ass with his belt, slapping your pussy, makes your brain short circuit.
He pulls his pants down with his boxers, flinging his cock out. You don’t remember it being this big. He was uncut and at least 8 inches. How could he fit inside you? The sight already making your pussy leak.
You rush your hands to his head, dangling your legs on his lap, pussy out for the world to see. You pull his foreskin back letting his precum bead down to your fingers.
“Feel s’good baby, fingers feel so good wrapped around my cock.” He grimaces.
You pump his dick, letting him grow against you, he keeps getting bigger and bigger. His tip was so pink, you wanted to suck him off like a lollipop. You wanted his dick down your throat. Embellishing in every way he can fill you up.
You lick his precum off your fingers, and he shoves his thumb in your mouth, “Suck.” He demands.
You enclose, treating his thumb like his cock. Swirling, letting every part of your saliva coat it.
He parts from you, soon attaching it to your pussy to moisten you up. He was going to stretch you so wide.
“Tell me if it hurts baby, please, I don’t want you to hurt.” He requests.
“I don’t care if it hurts Frankie, I need you to push me open. I need your cock.”
You shift until your lips are hovering over the head of his dick, waiting for him to pump into you. The tension was so thick you could barely breathe.
He carnally anchors into you, his cock magnetizing inside your cunt, the moment he surges into you, holding onto his shoulders stronger, you both gasp from feeling each other for the first time.
“Holy fuck, princesa you’re so tight.” He braces.
You try to move up from him but he attaches his hands to your hips and pushes you up and down. The air is eccentric and you’re so grateful you get to be so close to him, clasping on to his figure as he fucks into you.
He nips at your collar bone, lazily kissing you. Your hair disheveled from your body shaking.
“I love your cock, I love your cock. Oh my god- FuFuFuFuck.” You chant in his ear. The simplicity of having sex made you feel safe, this was more than magical. He was almost fucking your heart. He was so deep inside you, your mound was connecting to his base.
You loved when he was so dominant with you, you loved when he was in control, you loved Frankie.
“Fuck me- as hard as- you can. Use- my pussy.” You yelp.
The more you felt your pussy lips gripping onto his cock, the more you seized. The connection was beyond powerful. He aggressively slips into you, his tip touching that perfect spongy wall that would make you lose all will power.
“God darlin, love watchin those eyes roll back. Didn’t know you’d get this cock drunk baby. You love my cock so much?” He rasps.
“Spank me, please, slap my ass and fucking mark me.” You whine.
He lifts his hand, slapping your ass. He grabs onto your love handles, pulling you onto his dick harder.
“You like that? When my handprints on your ass? You want more?” He grunts.
You shake your head, and he continues, the sting firing your pussy up. His animalistic movements make you worship his soul, he matched your sex energy and you couldn’t be more thankful. You relished this moment, so grateful for Frankie.
He lusted over your tits, he slowed to kiss them, suck your nipples to hardened peaks. Somehow your heart hammered, watching him take care of every need your body craved, made you pussy twitch with his cock inside you. Watching his mouth wrap about your tits intensified your lust for him.
“I want you to do something for me,” He releases, “I want you to spell my name.”
“How-”
“Move your hips, move your hips with my cock still inside, ride me.” He stirs.
He intertwined his hands with yours, you back up from his chest preparing. He doesn’t lose your eyes for one second.
“F” You shake, his dick is everywhere inside your walls.
“R” You whine, the contact so slow and vivid, you could almost hear the colors off the walls.
“Keep going, that's it, just use that dick.” He coaxes.
“A” The tip of the A making his cock arch into you deeper than you could have ever imagined, you yell, soliciting for neighbors to hear.
“N”
“K” The ache in your pussy crying to cum, but you weren’t done. You knew you had to finish.
“I”
“E” You whimper, not able to sit straight any longer.
“Such a good girl, knew you could do it. My good fucking girl.” He kisses you, “I know what that pussy wants, I know she needs to cum. Wanna cum pretty girl?”
“Mhm, please Frankie. I-I was so good. I wanna cum on your cock. I’ll do anything, I’ll be so so good.” You plead.
His cock was intoxicating your brain, oxytocin so high you couldn’t think about where you were, only that Frankie was all you cared about in your life right now.
He aggressively hurls into you again, pinning your hands behind your back as he holds them in place. You couldn’t do anything but take his cock, you had to accept that he was gonna fuck you til you saw stars.
“You can do it baby, pussy’s already leakin all over me and the floor. She’s clamping around me. I wanna see that pretty face when you cum.” He finalized.
“Fran-Frankie keep going, I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum,” You praise.
You couldn’t even process his words, half-lidded and half dazed, all you could focus on was your pussy devouring his cock. Him driving past you until you couldn’t hear. The power to force you knew your voice was giving out. You couldn’t touch him, but him holding your hands back made you grateful, your orgasm so powerful you felt as if you were gonna break his cock.
Your voice box cracks, you immediately fall against his chest, stagnant from movement with the only action you could do was breathe.
He lays there will you, wrestling his heart from fucking you so fast. You couldn’t open your heart, let alone walk.
He picks you up, he leaves his couch area and you sense he’s taking you upstairs. He saunters into a dark room, placing you on top of his duvet cover keeping the lights off. You couldn’t tell what his room looked like, but you felt like a vegetable. He came back to you, cleaning your entrance with a baby soft towel. He has to move your legs, you were unresponsive with the widest smile on your face, eyes slanted to only see that he was getting in bed with you.
He lifts the cover, tucking you in next to him. You snuggle against his chest, embracing your body heat, spooning into him. Your breathing falters, in sync with his.
He rubs his hands through your hair, making you fall asleep faster.
“I love you, mi amor.”
And that's the last thing you remember before sleeping off the best night of your life.
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i love lady macbeth soooo much. looking into the meaning of her monologues are so powerful and she changed my thoughts on shakespeare 🔁🔁
previous || next
taglist: @pastelnap
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hellebore-petall · 1 year
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I haven't been able to share much of my thoughts on arc 11 yet because I've been busy with a number of things this past week that take up a lot of brain space (working in a youth shelter as my actual job is sometimes the most chill thing and sometimes chaos and this week has been a peak chaos week), but I have been Ruminating™️ in the background like a gently simmering stew and I have finally put into words what I found so profound.
There are a lot of big obvious metaphors and plotlines that struck me (fuck capitalism and unionize are always my mottos, and any story of positive religious faith does something to my religiously traumatized ass), and the PCs of course are an absolute delight and I could wax poetic on them forever (and I will do that, when I have time to finish my arc 11 playlist and Uquiz. Thank you Haley and Gus for the extended break between arcs it gives me more time to work on them before the next arc brainrot sets in).
But what really struck me was just the simplicity of Scenda's rise to godhood. I mean, the process itself, the plane jumping and all that, was incredibly difficult. But the way it all boils down to the fact that Scenda, at her core, is an "inanimate" (and I mean that loosely because she was made to "think") object who was loved so much she became "real." She ascended (pun absolutely intended) beyond her purpose and became so much more. It brings to mind stories from childhood (because that is an incredibly common trope in kids stories), like The Velveteen Rabbit. It is a story I have told in my own writing. In the story I am currently writing, there are a number of characters who started out as enchanted inanimate objects (such as dolls or statues) who become increasingly more sentient and independent through the love and help of those who care about them.
Back to The Velveteen Rabbit, this quote in particular seems appropriate:
“Real isn't how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”
As a person who finds a lot of sentimentality in objects, it's a story I can relate to a lot, a story that touches me in a very particular way. Scenda becomes "real", becomes her own being, because of the belief and devotion of her acolytes, and because of Suds' love and soul most of all. Suds LITERALLY loved Scenda so much he poured his soul into her, and if that's not a metaphor, I don't know what is.
The point is, it's a comforting story. Maybe it's the callback to childhood, maybe it's my attachment to various sentimental objects in my life currently, but it does something to me. I went through the entire arc thinking what Scenda was trying to do was some evil capitalist thing Albion Rail was attempting, like carving a country sized spell circle or rune that would ensure their evil grip on the country grew ever tighter, but it was so much more wholesome than that. Scenda wanted to become more fully herself, she wanted to be free of the restraints Albion Rail put on her and become who her acolytes have always believed her to be, who she knows she is meant to be. (That can also be a whole metaphor for queerness, now that I think of it, but that would be a whole other post).
I know I am going to be thinking about this for a long time, and it makes it all the more striking that I decided to name my new car after Scenda. So I'm going to end this unintentional essay by thanking Haley and Gus and the cast of arc 11 for crafting such a beautiful and profound story. Every arc blows it out of the park, and this is absolutely no exception.
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oven-thermometer · 1 year
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Hello again, anon that asked for the Samael sfw ABC's. That was great, really loved it. Thought you hit the nail on the head. I don't know if you have head cannons for him with an s/o but if you do, what are they? How would he attempt to win the s/o over if they came with and relied on the Horsemen? I was just curious, your ABC's was so good it got me thinking.
a/n: hello again samael anon! im sorry this took me so long, i haven't gotten back into my writing groove yet and I'm having a tough time in my life rn, but I miss writing so thank you for requesting :))
Also! I made a small, very inaccurate Samael playlist on Spotify!
warnings: none rlly, not betad and I rushed this
when Samael wants something, he's going to get it regardless of the cost. whether he needs to court you with honeyed words or beautiful gifts he's going to lay down his best cards to win you over.
only later in the relationship does he realise he likes your personality, your eyes, your laugh and...when did your smile get so dazzling dammit?
and the thing is, like I said before, he will do anything to get what he wants - you smiling included.
your laugh, ringing as clear as bells along his castle's walls, wrings his nonexistent heart. he may be eternally naturally warm, but something about the way you actually tend to care about listening to him makes his chest bubble with warmth.
that's another thing - he does love when you talk, but he also loves it when you listen. everyday he has to give orders and speak to countless of his soldiers or allies or even enemies, although you are the only one he ever wants to speak to.
he could talk for hours about everything you're not necessarily supposed to know about and watch as your eyes light up as you actually take in what he has to say. that same damned fuzzy feeling is back.
similarly, he doesn't mind when you ramble on and on right next to his ear while sit on his shoulder. he could be trying to pour himself into his work and you'd be right there, speaking your mind.
he'll make noncommittal grunts or single-word comments along the lines of whatever you're talking about. When you quiet down he'll gladly nudge you with one of the horns protruding from the side of his face, encouraging you to continue.
he is bold and brash, so expects you to be the same :)
samael also loves it when you have to literally climb him like a jungle gym. it amuses him when you struggle to wiggle your way up his arm or around his head when you want to get somewhere.
he'll even purposely make it difficult for you by moving his arm over when you're trying to get a grip or shake his head a little too violently while you hang on for dear life.
although if you ever manage to fall off he'll catch you without a second thought, and scold you without one too.
if you found your way to samael while in the company of the horsemen, samael would be even more intrigued.
a human? with the horsemen? in his realm? and you haven't been eaten by a demon yet?? he's impressed.
he's incredibly curious and will interrogate the horsemen about why you're with them. when he learns from either them or you that you're one of the last living humans - his interest is piqued even more.
you are rare, and that makes you valuable. he has little want to kill you, but he would love to keep you around purely for the fact that you're one of the only humans that he's been interested in.
scared humans bore him, but you - you were confident in your protection and didn't seem to care that he was a demon king. how foolish.
if the horsemen need something from him, he'd probably trade it for conversations with you.
and that is largely how your relationship began! he would have you walk with him across his kingdom (with the horsemen nearby) and enquire about your life or humans in general.
he's naturally curious and wants to know all he can about a potential enemy or ally. that includes humans.
he doesn't feel remorseful when you tell him of how you came to be with the horsemen and how the apocalypse started - if his armies hadn't marched on earth, the angels would have taken over and likely stormed hell itself. and he couldn't have that.
when your voice cracks or the tears that threaten to spill cling to your lashes though, he remains quiet. if you start to resent him he's going to get nowhere.
from there your friendship grew and your time in his company multiplied.
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Hullo! I've been following you for quite some time, and a lot of your tips and tricks have been so helpful to me. I have completed a queer fantasy novel, but lately, my original plan of traditionally publishing it has been frightening me for numerous reasons. I know you've mentioned some online places to publish short stories before, but do you have some references/tips on how to self publish a novel? I really don't care about money or even fame - I just want to get my book out into the world so people can enjoy it. Thanks!
Thanks for asking, I really appreciate it!
It's interesting, over the years I become less inclined to answer questions from a position of authority, and more inclined to share my thoughts as a fellow student. The more I learn, the more I realize how little I know!
I have an approach to publishing that works really well for where I'm at currently: for my longer work (short stories, novellas, and articles) I most often publish traditionally, and for my very short work (micro and flash fiction, poems, very short prose, etc.) I most often self publish via social media or my personal blog.
I don't yet have any personal experience with publishing novels, traditionally or self-published, because I haven't done it yet! The longest work I published is a novella, which is longer than a typical short story but significantly shorter than a novel. I do have several novels that I'm "sitting on," because I haven't decided how I want to publish them yet.
I came close to traditionally publishing one, and actually signed a contract, only to realize that the publisher wasn't right for me; I asked for my rights back, and they were thankfully very nice about it. Even though I still love that book and intend to publish it, there's no doubt in my mind that I made the right decision, because the thought of publishing it "wrong" was nothing short of panic-inducing. Moreover, my writing and ability to portray characters has improved a lot since that attempt.
All this to say, I may have experience in publishing stories and articles, but when it comes to publishing novels, I'm very much in the same boat as you! I'm still feeling it out, and using my short story publication experiences as a way of gaining experience.
That being said, I will link you to someone who has been very successful with self-publishing, @jennamoreci, whose videos I often watch when contemplating if that path is right for some of my novels. Here is her playlist on publishing and marketing, which lays everything out very thoroughly.
I will likely put together a list of novel self-publishing resources sometime over the next couple of weeks, with the disclaimer that I can't yet personally attest to their efficacy. Nevertheless, it will probably also help me to have all the resources in one place as well!
In the meantime, here's to both of us learning what works for us, and how to share our characters with the world! Happy writing!
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regallibellbright · 3 months
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Update: I have SUCCESSFULLY MIGRATED MY MUSIC LIBRARY TO A NEW MP3 PLAYER AND PROGRAM! *Fweet*
Additionally, since I was doing a search for whether or not anyone had done English covers of the Professor Layton themes and, in the process of finding one for Time Travel, fell down a rabbit hole of an amateur video game symphony orchestra who clearly REALLY like covering DS games at the moment given their concerts in the last five years or so have included:
The aforementioned Time Travel, ending theme for Professor Layton and the Unwound Future. The Japanese versions of most of the Layton games had vocal tracks; rather than translate them or release them unchanged, Level-5 just made them instrumentals. Someone wrote English lyrics for this one that seem to have been at least partially derived from the original.
Lullaby For You, the original ending theme for The World Ends With You
N's Farewell from Pokemon Black and White
Two different arrangements from Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Explorers - one from the farewell sequence, one which seems to be either the theme or a more general medley.
Okay, they list Vector to the Heavens as specifically the KH 3 version, and they've done quite a few Kingdom Hearts tracks, but you see why I find it notable when someone did TIME TRAVEL of all things
My brother walks in and I explain this to him, listing all but the last, and Bro goes "This is the saddest playlist ever." I continue immediately with both Dragon Roost Island and Rito Village (one of my favorite Zelda leitmotifs.)
Bro, immediately: This is the most You Playlist ever.
Me: I haven't gotten to the kicker -
Bro: Vector to the Heavens.
Me: Yes, but that's still not it.
Bro:... Ghost Trick?
Me: Not yet, at least. (But given they've done Godot's theme in addition to the entirely-predictable Objection from Ace Attorney - that's like saying you're any gaming music cover artist and you've done Undertale, of course they've covered Undertale, of course they've got a ton of Final Fantasy - and as I've stated the clear Deep Cut DS Games, I wouldn't be shocked if there is one in the next year or so.)
Bro: *Pauses and thinks*
Me: What's the last game you would ever think someone would cover? *Bro starts going down a rabbit hole* The most ME last game you'd ever think of?
Bro:... Endless Ocean: Blue World?
Me: YES. And granted, it's Nella Fantasia, like, you get classical crossover singers doing it, but WHO WOULD /EVER/ DO IT AS PART OF A VIDEO GAME ORCHESTRA CONCERT?!
Bro: Yeah, I was thinking too many people like Style Savvy.
Me: Oh no it's super-niche, I'd be pleased to hear one of the idol songs from Styling Star but I'm still not over Ring A Ding getting into Smash and people being surprised it was good, that was more than I realistically expect from non-fashion game fans. BUT ENDLESS OCEAN BLUE WORLD SPECIFICALLY?! (Someday I will actually play the first one.)
Immediately below it, Musique pour la tristesse de Xion.
Bro:... Someone there is hooked DIRECTLY into your brain.
Me: I KNOW, RIGHT?
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rainia · 11 months
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Rain!!! I finally started jrwi and I am fully enjoying it (I haven't gotten super far but it's amazing). But also. I agreed to start DM'ing a campaign for some of my friends and I have next to no D&D experience. If I'm remembering correctly, you also did a similar thing where you started a campaign having never done it before—do you have any advice?? I think it'll be very fun (all of us just want to cause chaos with it) but also I am so scared please help
OFF!!!! I'm so glad you're enjoying it!! :DDD (apologies if I accidentally spoil you with all my posting hahah). I love jrwi so so much, it's unashamedly taken over my whole blog lmao. When will GIllion catch a break frfr
ooohhh that's so exciting!! :O Yeah, that's right - we've only done two actual sessions but it's been so, so fun. And DMing is such a blast heheh.
I also had never fucking done this before so yeaah. I'm actually running a little pre-written campaign, which you can get for free on dndbeyond: https://www.dndbeyond.com/sources/lmop (you can also get it as a pdf, from erm, places. on the internet. dm me if you want that lmao). I've also been getting a lot of inspiration from this youtuber's guide here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLmtuNGN3ZDJEFDhOcwfFc0-OpZ7omueRx (PLAYERS AVERT YOUR FUCKING EYES LIL SHITS DO NOT GET SPOILED)
I've actually changed the plot a bunch to fit all the backstories. It's almost completely different to the actual prewritten material, apart from a few key details. But I'm using the prepped combats/dungeons because I am not confident enough yet in that area lol. This has actually helped me a LOT because the skeleton of the campaign is there, but we have free creative reign yknow? I think there are bunch of similar pre-made campaigns if you um, look in the right places. yeah.
We're using dndbeyond for all the character sheets etc. It works pretty well!
I also binge-watched this interview series on youtube to get an idea of running campaigns: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhOoxQxz2yFN70xDSNNI8PKgxabBNvPhY And I found this youtuber pretty helpful: https://www.youtube.com/GinnyDi
But I think what's helped me the most, is how awesome my group has been! We're all absolute beginners so it's no stress to be like, yeah tell me what I'm doing right and wrong. Help me lmao. and then each time I'm trying to improve from there.
I do recommend having a session zero to talk about backstories/tone/setting/expectations/boundaries etc. Because after we had that conversation, I was super inspired by everyone's ideas and changed a FUCKton of the plot. So yeah! Also feel free to ask me for anything else. I'm still learning but I'd love to know how your campaign goes!! so fucking exciting!!
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sleepyjuniper · 2 years
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Got any good Spotify playlists? You’d seem like the type of person with good music taste.
Oh boy do I! This'll be fun. I'm also going to format this terribly.
I have a wide range of tastes, and I try to organize them into playlists, but I'm not very good at it. Either way, you'll find some bops in all of these, I can guarantee that.
Genre/Mood Playlists
Soft and Warm
This is a playlist full of songs that make me comfy/relaxed. They tend to have an airy, ethereal vibe to them.
Creeping Stalking
This playlist has songs with energy to them, mostly intense rock/indie music with angry or dark lyrics to them. The songs make me feel empowered so I usually use this playlist to drown out background sound and focus. "Killing Butterflies" by Lewis Blissett is my favorite, and an example of the type of music you'll find in there. I consider this playlist to be the most consistent in terms of genre.
Chill Drawing
It is what it sounds like. Songs I've found nice to listen to while drawing. Does depend on my mood though, and I haven't used it much lately.
6th grade field trip bus ride
Late 2000's and early 2010's songs lol. That's. All it is. Nostalgia playlist for zoomers and gen z's like me. Those songs that were always on the radio, that everybody knew, and that you'd hear on the bus all the time.
80's neon diner
Songs from the 60's to the 80's, nostalgia for people who deserve to have nostalgia. Imagine people dancing around a jukebox without a care in the world.
Character Playlists
Tip and Oh (Home)
This is a playlist I made back in 2021, about my comfort characters, Tip and Oh from the DreamWorks movie Home. (I was in the middle of a hyperfixation.) All the songs have a general theme of friendship, loyalty, and love. I listened to this playlist a LOT when I was writing for the characters last year.
Mai and 7 (Next Gen)
Also a friendship playlist, these songs fit the angsty personality of the main character from Next Gen, Mai Su, a very lonely little girl who's angry with the world and with robots.
Sun and Moon (And You)
This is also linked in my pinned post, but here it is again. This is a Sun/Moon & Reader playlist. A lot of these songs are from BamSara's playlist for Solar Lunacy, so they mainly apply to the fics I've read before. There's some angst, some fluff, some techno, it's not all that consistent. Varied playlist, much like people's varied interpretations of the characters.
Official Visions Playlist
Visions (Sun/Moon FNAF AU)
Another one from my pinned post, but I figured I'd share this too, since not everyone might know that I have a playlist for my fic. These mainly apply to Moon, and Moon and Gregory together (maybe I should start defining Visions as a DCA & Gregory fic, cause that's what it is now) and also vary in theme. Some of these are for existing chapters, and others are for chapters that have yet to be written. It's actually a bit hard to find good songs that fit my own perception of my characters, so this playlist is kind of a hodgepodge. I'm also still adding to it, so add it to your favorites if you wanna.
Those are all the playlists that I consider worth listening to, however I do have some playlists for my favorite bands (Mystery Skulls and Fleet Foxes) with all my favorite songs in them. I'd edit this post or add to it if people were interested lol. I'd also love to hear if anyone enjoyed these playlists!
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toastling · 1 year
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Hi so I made that Luz playlist after all. I wanted to include more songs in Spanish, but I don't know too many yet, and what I do doesn't fit her all that much. But maybe I'll add more in the future!
Because I'm a storyteller at heart this playlist kinda tells a story? It's broken up into Arcs.
Tracks 1-10 are the fundamentals, establishing Luz as a character and her situation.
Tracks 11-19 is what I call the Lumity Movement. All songs about Amity, as if they were from Luz's perspective.
Tracks 20-22 is the beginning of The Depression™️ we saw in Thanks to Them, though I'd say it actually started around Reaching Out (thus the next two songs). That sudden crash and questioning of herself.
Tracks 23-24 are about death, specifically the death of her father. I know the pronouns in the PXNDX song are female, but we're gay, we know what to do.
Tracks 25-27 are Luz's state of mind in The Depression™️.
Tracks 28-30 are the Light at the End of the Tunnel. A place we haven't *entirely* seen yet, but she will find it.
And Track 31 is the promise to keep going, and the return to the Demon Realm.
I hope you guys like it!
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devitalise · 1 year
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IMO CHEESEHAIR I still need to sit with my roundup but lest I make you wait any longer — January reads pls!!! 🤲 did you set out to read the specific books you read, or did it just kinda end up that way? & do you have a plan for this month's reads? 💭
CAS DJSERVO you'd think i'd be even a little bit prepped to do a book wrap up, but january was so long and so short! i didn't go in with any specifics, i went away on a work trip and was kind of just left with my kindle picks. got to say, can't do back to back to back kindle reads, i like to break it up with a physical book just for the act of reading but anyways here's my
january book wrap up
fight club by chuck palahniuk
entered the fight club universe. i still haven't watched the movie, so i was able to go into this completely unaware of anything to do with the plot. it was actually quite easy to get into this independent of the cult-classic-coming-of-age-must-watch surrounding the book and movie. palahniuk is a decent writer, the snapshot jumpiness of the prose paid off. neat.
podcasts: bookwasted. music: fight club original score
checkout 19 by claire-louise bennett
i almost put this one down due to a mix of me not being in the right headspace to really get into the book, and the rhythm of the book not fully settling for me until around the 30% mark. but i got through it, and once i got into it, i was in. stream of consciousness with a twist, as the narrator makes sense of her own memory through remembering reading, relationships, class and money. a lot of meat for a concept that seems pretty threadbare.
podcasts: shakespeare and company music: severance soundtrack
please look after mother by shin kyung-sook
not liking a book written in second person feels blasphemous for me, i love second person sooo much! but there was a real disconnect for me here. definitely in the story. struggled to stay engaged with this book, the realisations the characters were having felt so juvenile and very early-adulthood. some of the perspective and time changes were a bit confusing too.
couldn't find a podcast for this. music: pachinko soundtrack
just by looking at him by ryan o'connell
this book was just so raunchy and fun! one of my aims for the year is to seek out more disabled representation in the books i read, and this book was just so perfect. elliot is infallible, he's real, and being in his head and his world was so dramatic and true to life i feel. a time capsule of a read, so present without being cringy.
review: bookish magazine music: good with any kind of pop
their eyes were watching god by zora neale hurston
yeah. i haven't written a review on goodreads yet, just because i want to sit with this book for a bit longer. this is an incredible book, and i don't think i could have read it at any other time in my life. this is so ahead of its time, i can't believe it was published in the 30s. all it has to say on love and community and hurston's ability to capture a time on paper is so inspiring. i love janie as a heroine, as a woman, as someone who allows herself to change in her circumstances but always know who she is at heart. one of my top of the year (no it's not too early to say that!)
podcasts: novel pairings and black chick lit music: reader made playlist
feb reads: i have another country by james baldwin picked out as my next read! i'm honestly not too sure what's after that. my book ban is still going strong, i have 47 titles to pick from so i'll see where i end up!
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i-am-beckyu · 10 months
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MORE ASKS YOU SAY???? i can do that >:)
2, do you read/reread your own fics?
5, what's a fic idea you've had but will never write?
8, what project(s) are you currently working on?
11, do you have specific playlists for writing fics?
14, if you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?
16, at what point in the process do you come up with titles?
23, how do you choose where to end a chapter?
27, is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? why?
30, what's your favorite word?
THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!! QWQ I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BRICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
2, do you read/reread your own fics?
Sometimes. Mostly Jornos to get back into it again but its rare. And when I do, I realise that they're waaaaaaay better than I thought lol. Treat spiders the way you want to be treated was actually a surprise to me. I didn't think it was very good but was pleasantly surprised.
5, what's a fic idea you've had but will never write?
Okay. So this is kind of a fic idea for a fic that's not mine.
It's actually this idea for awesome-slime-lover we're family au where Tommy is a borrower adopted by royal sbi that don't really want him. And they have actually written a part 2 but I had this idea where it could time skip and basically sbi have come to accept tinies finally, unknowingly though because they take all their hate out on Tommy. And Tommy just tries to push through and be the perfect child, despite knowing he'll never be accepted. And basically something happens were sbi are called away and Tommy manages to be put in charge of the harvest, which has been terrible for years and actually improves it, yeilding the best crops in decades. Of course when sbi return they don't know it was tommy and wanna know who did such an amazing job, and when Tommy tries to tell them, they basically laugh in his face and ya know, put him down etc etc. And it continues on with guilty sbi, tommy getting kidnapped by the enemy as a revenge act or something and sbi saving him. I have literally imagined full blown scenes in my head but will never write it purely because its not my fic
8, what project(s) are you currently working on?
Mood board for the fic I'm working on here <3 I'll let it do the talikng ^v^
11, do you have specific playlists for writing fics?
Yes and no. I have a general playlist for writing which is my playlist for like everything, but when I'm writing something with a certain mood, I look up random playlists for that mood. (your serenity playlist has been played whilst writing jornos a many a times lol)
14, if you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?
OooO thats a hard one. Hmmmmmmm Either My monster to slay or that fic I haven't posted yet (the very first one I started writing). I think either of those would be really cool to see as a movie!
16, at what point in the process do you come up with titles?
already answered this one <3
23, how do you choose where to end a chapter?
Mmmmm I kinda just look at how long the chapter is, where a scene is and where the next scene starts and usually have a scene change a signal to the end of a chapter with a heavy hitting line. I love it when the last line hits hard. Sticks in the mind better :3
27, is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? why?
Probably that first fic. It's the first fic I tried writing after 5 years of no writing so I feel I've improved a lot since getting back into it, and I really really love it! Yet I don't wanna change it if I have to ya know? It's kind of my baby now lol.
30, what's your favorite word?
Meraki. It's a word I actually thought I'd made up as a kid but as google told me it actually means this:
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It has since become my favourite word <3
THANK YOU THANK YOU BRICKKKKKKKKKK! Really means a lot!!! <3
Ask game here :3
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mid-year book podcast freak out 2023
Got tagged by @allcountersarehipheight, which thank you so much for tagging me, I love to be tagged in things lol, but uh
I kinda realized that I haven't read enough books to actually do this lmfao. I did start reading Ancillary Justice this past week, and I read the book How to Keep House While Drowning (definitely recommend), and I've read a decent amount of fanfic.
But (as you know) I've had some Big Life Changes this year. Who knew, looking for apartments, packing, moving across the country, and starting a new job seriously eats up time and makes reading books difficult lol.
So anyway. The only media I've actually really consumed this year are podcasts, cause the move if anything only increased the time available for listening to podcasts. And this looked fun. So I'm gonna just. freak out about podcasts for a minute
Best book podcast you’ve read heard so far this year
The White Vault. Hooooly shit y'all. This show. I'm feeling so insane about it rn, and I am really looking forward to their next season whenever it releases and listening to their patreon-only miniseries in this world. I am just in awe of their entire production, the writing, the creeping dread and terror (my roommate laughed at me for my reactions), the fucking sound design!!!! lemme say, having Done sound design work myself, shit is hard and they really made this show next level real. And god it is impossible not to fall in love with the characters and sucked into the plot. If you hear it, it hears you too....
Best sequel you’ve read heard so far this year
The PALISADE season of Friends at the Table!! Another installment in their Divine Cycle stories and it continues to be my favorite podcast on the planet. It makes me feel so much I have trouble putting any of it into words. I can only scream incoherently and reblog the gorgeous wonderful fanart for this show. Everyone needs to listen to fatt right now immediately. This is not news to anyone who follows me lmfao
New release you haven’t read heard yet
The new season of Life with LEO(h)! I loved the first season, and I am really excited to listen to the second one that's releasing now. I haven't quite gotten around to it though, it's one of the shows where having both earbuds in helps me keep track of everything, and since I'm usually listening to stuff at work where I can't have both earbuds in, it's just been. Sitting in my playlist, waiting to be played.
Most anticipated release for the second half of the year
Within the Wires season 8, definitely. I've been listening to the show since the first episode released in 2016 and it has remained one of my all time favorite podcasts for that entire time. I have no idea what the next season's focus will be, it's always something different, and it always always wrecks me, and it is always rearranges my brain. October can't come soon enough.
Biggest disappointment
The Two Princes. I had listened to the first season whenever that came out, but didn't follow it when it went exclusive on spotify, cause fuck spotify, but this year they quietly gave up on making it spotify exclusive. And maybe the fact I had enjoyed but felt pretty meh about season one should've been a hint for my reaction, but hey, they autodownloaded, so I decided to listen to seasons 2 and 3. And y'know. It was fine. It just wasn't particularly good. Idk, maybe I'm not the target audience for that show.
Biggest surprise
Lost Hills: The Dark Prince. It's a surprise cause it's not something I would've sought or picked out to listen to on my own. But you know the thing some shows do, where they go "hey, we're promoting another podcast, so we're dropping their first episode in our feed, enjoy" and you just go along with it instead of skipping, and afterwards you go "hm well I haven't cared about malibu or surfing At All my whole life, but now i just Gotta know the fucked up history of this One Dickhead who had a huge influence on the surfing culture that extends into the present day." Well. Here we are.
Favorite new author (debut or new to you)
Fool & Scholar Productions! Not debut, but new to me. They're the team responsible for The White Vault (among other shows I am looking forward to listening to). Seriously, their writing and their audio production are so so so excellent and I really admire their dedication to Getting things Right, particularly in regards to how they write international characters and go to great lengths to cast people from those cultures and who speak those languages to act. And although I haven't had a chance to listen to their TWV patreon-miniseries Imperial, the whole thing about using an endangered language in it and working with speakers and scholars of that language to get things right is just. Wow. It's incredible and I am (again) so excited to listen to it and their other shows, this team really just makes the language nerd and audio nerd in me vibrate
Newest fictional crush/newest favorite character
This was so difficult but I gotta say, Vivian Exler from the Upstairs and Downstairs game of fatt Road to Palisade. Gardner/groundskeeper who gets the revolutionary zines and is constantly bickering with the mechanic. I am predictable and quickly become a fan of any Jack de Quidt character and Vivian was no exception.
Book Podcast that made you cry
Yet another win for The White Vault here. It made me cry multiple times, for sad reasons, and I mean this another glowing recommendation for this show. Love to be made to feel emotions
Book Podcast that made you happy
Ologies with Alie Ward!! Literally this podcast is just a constant source of joy and makes me so happy to be on this planet. Every single ologist Alie interviews is so genuinely excited about their subject and it is endlessly fascinating to learn more about the world around us. There's episodes that definitely can be bummers, but even the bummer episodes ultimately instill in me optimism and hope and appreciation. And also I get to leave every episode with a handful of fun facts I can bring out at parties when I'm anxious.
Alright, there we are! I'm gonna tag @housetalis (eternal thanks for introducing me to TWV) and @grand-magnificent. Feel free to do the original book freakout or do a podcast freakout or to not do it at all — no pressure either way!
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