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#so good but the full song is like. 2 minutes. I need more than that
cozystars · 2 months
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!!! BUILT LIKE BILBO BAGGINS !!!
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johnfdonovan · 2 years
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LEVIIII how was mcr i hope they were AMAZING :D
LITERALLY LIFE CHANGING i feel like a new man...... so so good thank you for asking!!!
#going to use this as an excuse to talk abt it ramble in the tags bc the stakes are low on here and i need to get it out of my system#absolutely no obligation for anyone to read this but#best night of my life ? i think#and definitely the best gig of my life bc it felt like so much more than just a concert. and how can any other gig compare to THAT#we had to travel up and stayed over night etc etc so it was a big thing bc of that but more so bc ITS MCR#very much part of the generation that was too young to see them when they were around and then they split#so i never thought i would get to experience this in my life#and they obviously mean so much to me / i've never stopped being emo / they're my fellow freaks#i always think about the time i was watching black parade is dead and my mum was like 'this is good bc you'll never be able to see them'#BUT THEN....#took a decade but WE DID SEE THEM WE HAVE SEEN THEM#we've seen gerard before and frank twice so its not even like a 'omg they're real' moment but it was still just. so overwhelming#(in the best way possible)#they started w foundations and it took about a minute before i started crying lol#and just continued to do so on and off for their entire set (2 hours!)#i just kept thinking abt how monumental it was to be seeing them and hearing these songs live#and hearing a whole stadium full of people singing along too. god#there's this video someone outside of the venue took where you can hear everyone singing along to wttbp and like. fuck man#my chemical romance#i just felt so appreciative and emotional i've never lived in the moment quite like that day and im trying really hard to carry on doing#that now and just living day to day#sounds so stupid but i don't care it genuinely made me want to be a better person and not want to wallow in my depression 24/7#the line in foundations when gerard says 'you must fix your heart and you must build an altar where it rests'#maybe i don't have to kill myself. maybe life can just be trivial and these small joys are enough. maybe
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kentosmoon · 1 month
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Husband Nanami headcanon Pt. 2
NSFW 18+ [minors DNI]
Nanami x fem!reader
tags: creampie, unprotected sex, dom Nanami, Nanami is 33, wrote this at 3am so if there are mistakes I’ll fix it later 🫠
Songs I listened to while writing this: Lucky Daye - Careful
Chris Grey - Prada & Versace
Husband Nanami pounding you in your room while your parents are downstairs.
"Kento let's do this quickly before dinner is ready. You know how my parents are...especially my mom.” You bit your lip and turned around to lock the door. He steps behind you, and you hear the rustle of fabric as he undoes his trousers. Nanami's calloused hands grip your waist, pulling you back and tilting your hips up to grant him the perfect angle. You feel the blunt head of his cock tease your slick entrance, running up and down your slit, coating himself in your wetness. The teasing elicits a needy soft whine from your lips, but you know better than to rush him. He's in control, and each drawn-out second is a reminder of his dominance. "Such a desperate little thing," he murmurs with a tinge of amusement in his voice. With a skilled touch, he parts your folds, finding your clit with an expertise that has you gasping. He circles it once, twice — a gentle warning before applying the perfect amount of pressure that has you arching into his touch, a broken moan spilling from your lips. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Nanami lifts you moving towards the bed, gently laying you down. His knees sink into the mattress. He positions himself between your spread legs, his large, veiny hands running up your thighs, pushing them apart further, exposing your wetness to his hungry gaze. "You're going to be good for me now, aren't you?" he murmurs, his voice a caress against your skin as he leans down to press a kiss to your inner thigh. Nanami's hazel eyes bore into yours warmly. He positions himself at your entrance, his tip teasing your sensitive folds, drawing out the moment, making you squirm with need. "Hurry Kento...please...need you to fill up my needy cunt."
Nanami groans at your words, and without another moment's hesitation, he grips your thighs and thrusts into you in one smooth, deep motion, filling you completely. Your breath catches in your throat at the sudden fullness, his powerful body driving into yours with a relentless rhythm, each thrust designed to remind you who you belong to. His thick cock hits all the right spots, and you can feel another climax building within you, fast and hard. Nanami leans forward, bracing himself with one hand beside your head, his other hand finding its way to your clit, circling it with deliberate precision. His hazel eyes lock onto yours, holding your gaze captive as he fucks you, his movements becoming more erratic as he chases his own release. "You’re so tight baby, taking me so well." his voice strained with the effort to maintain control. Your moans were getting a bit...too loud. Suddenly your mom was knocking on the door. Nanami leans against your ear. "Sounds like we got company...be a good girl and keep that pretty mouth shut for me."
"Dinner is ready you guys. Is everything ok?"
"We're fine. We'll be down in a minute...I promise we won't be long." As your pussy grips his cock, Nanami grits his teeth, almost teetering out of control. He pushes your head into the pillow, muffling your moans. “Keep quiet hun. Don’t want to let mommy know their daughter’s a dirty slut hm?” Your ears turn hot as he coos into them. It pushes you over the edge, and you cum hard, your body convulsing, your cries muffled by his strong hand. This triggers Nanami's own release, and with a series of deep, shuddering thrusts and groans, he fills you, his hot cum coating your insides white. He continues to move gently, riding out the waves of pleasure, before finally stilling. Nanami's hand remains on your mouth for a lingering moment before he slowly removes it, looking down at you with eyes softening with affection. "Are you alright darling?" he asks, his voice gentle. You nodded in response. "I'm fine Kento." Nanami leans in slowly to anticipate the press of his lips. His kiss is gentle and loving, deepening at a natural, unhurried pace. He breaks the kiss pulling back just enough to gaze into your eyes. With a gentle but deliberate motion, he eases himself out of you, his cum slowly leaking out of your pussy. Grabbing his handkerchief on the bedside table, he started to quickly clean you up.
"Dinner is probably cold. Oh, they are so going to kill us Kento." Nanami hugged you, rubbing circles onto your back and smirked against your skin.
"Let them."
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viaoverthemoon · 10 months
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Sugar daddy Leon...(death island Leon) 👀👀 like he definitely has the potential. Like one day reader has a bad day and he notices it.... Then takes her out for shopping and dining to help her feel better than late at night....... He has a personal way to make her feel really good while praising her all the time... Yk👀👀👀👀
I hear you, my love!
Sorry for the long wait, been busy, 0 Wi-Fi, yada yada.
Omg, y'all, pls forgive any old-timey speech ;-; I've been reading a lot of medieval stuff lately.
Death Island!Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader
Summary: You had a bad day and Leon makes it up to you <3
Tw: SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), teasing with cum, intoxication, mention of alcohol, Leon got bank, hallucinations??, PLOT TWIST
This wasn't thoroughly proofread, sorry! Lemme know if I missed anything!!
18+!! NSFW!! MDNI!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!!
Enjoy! <3
'Vivid~'
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The minute Leon walked through his door and heard the sound he recognized as your comfort show's theme song, he knew something was up.
He'd long ago given you the passcode to his private house, so it was never a surprise when you suddenly show up at his place.
He inhales a sharp breath, preparing for the worst, before approaching the couch.
He sits on the opposite side, away from your curled up figure.
He lets you be silent for a while, observing the extra water in your eyes and the frown on your lips. Eventually, he reaches a hand out and runs it along the blanket that covers your leg.
Not in a sexual matter, but in a way that comforts you.
Your body relaxes and the blanket that covered your face falls slightly as you peek at Leon.
He smiles sweetly at you, but you can't bring yourself to hold his gaze. So you look away, prepared to ignore him again but it looks like Leon has had enough of your silence.
He's suddenly in front of you, crouched on the floor and blocking your view of the tv. "I don't like being ignored, angel."
For some reason his voice nearly makes you break down in tears.
Your lips begin to tremble, and Leon realizes your about to have a breakdown a little too late.
Before he can even get any words out, the tears are flowing and quiet sobs and whimpers are leaving your lips.
Leon sighs and before you know it, your blanket wrapped body is placed on his lap.
Once your sniffles stop and all of your tears have been wiped away, Leon gently caresses your cheek. His blue eyes scan your face, so full of concern and sadness that you might just cry again.
"What makes you cry, sweet angel?"
You wipe your eyes one more time, avoiding eye contact with him. "Nothing... I've just had a bad day, Lee..."
He nudges your chin toward him with a finger, claiming your attention again. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
You gently place your hands on his chest. "Oh, Leon you don't have to-" He grabs your hands and places a kiss on your knuckles.
"You're right. I don't have to, but I want to." You feel your cheeks turn red at his words, albeit you should be used to them by now.
Leon always knew the words that would travel right into your heart.
He intertwines your hands. "Hey, how about we go to that store you like? Get a few things, then we can grab dinner at that one place?"
He's well aware that you won't be getting 'a few things', and that he'll buy you anything you set your eyes on for more than 2 seconds, but you both know that fact already, so you both say nothing about it.
Your eyes light up. "Oh! You mean the place that makes those delicious --?"
Leon is pleased to see that your mood has instantly brightened, quickly nodding his head.
Your arms find their way around his neck, hugging him as tight as possible. "Thank you, Leon! I really needed this..."
And he is more than happy to give you anything you need.
it's just past 1am when you stumble through the front door of Leon's house, singing an offkey version of the song that played on the radio.
Leon follows behind you, trying not to trip over his own two feet. He curses the damn alcohol in his system for his poor equilibrium.
You both had a splendid evening, shopping at multiple stores before going to your favorite restaurant. And maybe stopping by a small bar and having a couple of drinks.
Luckily, you hadn't consumed enough alcohol to get you drunk, only a little bit more than tipsy.
Your heels make walking a little harder, but you can't be bothered to take them off.
The alcohol in your blood relaxes your bones, making you feel like slush. Your body sways to an invisible tune, your lips humming along to it as you begin to remove your dress.
Leon, who is obviously a better drinker than you, sobers almost instantly at the sight.
He hurriedly closes the front door to keep any nosy neighbors from seeing you. "(Y/N)! The neighbors could have seen you!"
You hear his words but can't understand them, the volume of the invisible song too hard to ignore. You keep humming along, moving toward the bedroom as you continue to remove the dress.
You're so lost in the music that you don't realize Leon following you until you turn around, your song suddenly stopping short.
You gasp, looking up to see his face.
And in that moment, you're immediately sober.
Now, you're lost in a different type of music.
You stare into his eyes, a deep tide of roaring symphonies. A song so heart-breakingly beautiful that somehow, he's the only living thing in your world.
Wow. Okay. Maybe you are drunk.
Leon's soft touch to your cheek pulls you from your sappy thoughts. "You still with me, angel?"
Not entirely.
"Yes..." The answer comes out as a breathless whisper, words trembling as a shiver runs down your spine.
A sharp inhale sounds from your lips when Leon moves his hands to your bare waist. It's only then that you realize you're naked.
And so is he.
Your hands explore his chest as his map out your hips and stomach.
The atmosphere turns hot, heavy with tension so thick you can hardly breathe.
Your touches turn rough, desperate as you both claw at each other's skin. You throw your head back, allowing Leon more room as he litters your neck in love bites and kisses, hands skimming over your lower back.
A soft moan emits into the air, your back arching into him. He wastes no time in picking you up, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct.
Your lips land on his, hands resting on his jaw as you kiss him with eternal love. His tongue bypasses your lips, exploring every inch of you it can reach. You both battle for dominance and, in the short time it took him to walk the both of you to the bed, it would seem he won.
You flop on his blankets, cheeks warm and chest heaving.
You look up at him as he stands at the foot of the bed in-between your knees, rubbing the top of your thighs and peering down at you in wonder. "So beautiful..."
Your cheeks feel hotter, and before you can say anything in return, he grabs your ankles and throws them over his shoulder all while kneeling on the floor.
You yelp in surprise and notice that you're still wearing the white pearl covered Jimmy Choos that you wore to dinner.
Leon stares down at your weeping cunt, using two fingers to gently run them down your slit.
Your legs twitch, a short exhale heaving past your lips. You bite your lip, wishing he would stop playing with you and just fuck you already.
But it looks like you don't have to wait long.
"Are you still a little sad about earlier, sweetheart?"
To be honest, you couldn't remember what you were sad about. But just to entertain the idea, you pout your lip and give Leon a sad nod.
He sighs, nuzzling his face along your inner thigh. "Poor princess... let me make it up to you."
And, finally, he shoves his face right into your lower lips.
Your body jolts, back arching in a perfect c.
A strangled moan escapes you, hands reaching out to grip the blankets. He expertly sucks on your ball of nerves, tongue lapping every drop of liquid your pussy produces like a dehydrated man.
He feasts upon you like he hasn't eaten in ages, hands wrapped around your thighs and holding you in place.
Your body naturally writhes and wiggles in his grip, and yet, he doesn't let go.
The sensitivity is much too high, your body barely keeping up with the pleasure you're receiving. Instead of shivers of intensity, you get shockwaves. Your legs shake, lips trembling and uttering broken praise and pleas. "Fuck-! Ah- Yes, Leon..."
Your voice can hardly be anything more than a whisper, but he still hears you. He groans, pressing further into you.
The sounds of his mouth on your soaked pussy are borderline pornographic. Slurping, wet squelching, and groans of pleasure filling every corner of the room.
You can't even muster up any comprehendible sentences, only babbling incoherent words as your hands flutter around, trying to find something to do that wouldn't hurt Leon or tear his blankets.
Your hands clench into fists, you hold them in front of your mouth to keep from making any noises as your release quickly approaches. But, it appears Leon has other plans.
He reaches one hand up and shoves yours away from your mouth, all while lifting his other hand and inserting two of his digits into your cunt.
You can't control yourself this time, one of your hands flying down to his hair and tugging hard, your eyes as wide as saucers and your mouth even wider.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head, desperate moans and whimpers coming from you at loud volumes.
You hardly hear him over your own voice, but you catch bits and pieces of Leon's praise. "There you go, angel. That's right, cum on my tongue and forget every other thing that has ever hurt you. Be my good girl and-"
He doesn't need to say anything more.
With a loud and choked sob mixed with a scream, you curl in on his head and cum straight into his mouth.
Your grip isn't loosening, and it takes a full two minutes to come down from the high. You aren't even sure if Leon can breathe, but his thumbs stroke your thighs as a way to comfort you.
Your body slowly stops trembling and starts to relax. You release his hair and fall back on the bed, spent and breathing heavy, but nearly satisfied.
Leon stands, and you watch lustfully as his dick rises with him, slapping against his stomach.
And just like that, the fire in your belly that almost dwindled is lit once again.
"What is it, sweetheart? Like what you see?"
He smirks down at you, the lower half of his face dripping with your slick, leaning toward you and grabbing one of your hands.
Your heart nearly explodes and your breathing accelerates when he moves your hand to slide against his girth.
You don't take your eyes off of his, and vice-versa.
He hisses when the tip of your finger runs over the slit of his cock, gathering precum. You whimper softly at his reaction.
You pull away from him, scooting back on the bed and laying down. You eye him down with mischief and reach a hand down, spreading your cunt open for him and inserting the finger cover in his precum into yourself.
His eyes glaze over, blue oceans darkened with an insatiable lust.
You whine and call out his name.
Leon's eyes snap to your face, chest heaving with every breath.
Placing both hands on the bed, he crawls toward you. The way he approaches you sends shivers down your spine, slow and analytical, much like a predator stalking it's prey.
You spread your legs wider, and he settles right in-between them. He gets so close that your chests touch.
He hands scale along your sides, thumbs gently running over your nipples. "Jesus... You're gonna be the death of me. I swear it."
The tip of his cock nudges your clit and you gasp, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he guides himself into you. "Don't worry, sweet girl. I'll make you feel so good. Whenever you feel sad, you'll think about this moment. You'll think about me."
Still sensitive from your first orgasm, you sigh when he bottoms out.
He groans in relief, reaching up and intertwining your hands, placing them next to your head. Your foreheads touch, hot breaths mingling.
He takes his time, setting a slow pace that has your mouth open and soft moans emitting from it. You clench around him, wanting more.
He seems to get the messages, moaning as his hips stutter for a moment, before slightly picking up the pace.
In a way it's still excruciatingly slow, but it's deeper than before.
Your body feels like it's on fire, writhing and shaking as Leon's hips meet yours. You relish in the delicious feeling of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust.
"Fuck-. I can't get enough of you..."
"God you feel so fucking good."
"Jesus baby, keep squeezing me like that and I'm not gonna last long..."
The room get hotter, causing a thin layer of sweat to coat yours and his skin. He leans down and places his lips on your, swallowing your noises. It isn't long before the knot in your stomach threatens to snap.
Leon feels it too, unclasping your hands to reach down and grab hold of your hips, his pace suddenly speeding up to something somewhat brutal.
You cry out into the kiss, your hands reaching up and scratching down his back.
He only groans, pulling away from the kiss and shaking his head to rid of the hazy feeling, before desperately pounding into you like a maniac.
Your orgasm rips through you without warning.
Your back arches and your nails painfully scratch down Leon's abdomen, which seems to be the final push he needs, because he follows you right off the edge.
He pushes deep inside of you, cumming so deep his seed probably directly entered your womb.
You see stars, feeling so blissful that, all of a sudden, this feels too good to be true...
The stars in your vision get brighter and brighter, Leon's face fading away, until...
Your eyes open, instantly recognizing the theme song of your comfort show.
Sitting up, you look around at your surroundings before flopping right back down. Your mood instantly sours.
Of course, it was a fucking dream.
Leon has been gone on a job for 3 days, leaving you depressed and lonely.
You cuddle back into the blankets on his couch, eyes filling with tears. You missed him so much and to not even be able to tell if he's doing okay...
Suddenly, you hear beeping from the front door, and then the door opening.
It takes everything in you to not jump from the couch.
You feel him sit on the opposite end of the couch, waiting a few moments before placing a hand on your leg and caressing it over the blanket.
You don't acknowledge him. Instead, a mischievous smile appears on your face.
You suddenly know what you're gonna do today.
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Wow, I did not plan that ending.
Anyways! Sorry, my love :( I really didn't mean for this to take so long. So much stuff is going on in my life right now and BLAHHHH y'know?
But let me know what you think!!
Hope you enjoyed! ;)
Requests are open! <3
-V💕
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crplpunkklavier · 1 year
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idk. i read an article the other day about how the structure of pop songs is changing. how producers advise artists now to put the best part--choruses, hooks--right at the beginning, or at least within the first 30 seconds of the song, because otherwise people will scroll right past on tiktok and instagram.
idk. the same article explained that songs are getting shorter and shorter because you need people to loop you on spotify to make any money at all, and of course a 2 minute song is looped more than a 5 minute song, just sort of due to how time works.
idk. can i fault artists for wanting to make a living? but how dreadful to make art like this.
idk. i've always been a defender of pop music despite feeling at home in punk, because i don't think there's anything bad in humans sometimes wanting something simple, something easy to listen to, something immediately relatable. it's an idea that dates back all the way to romanticism. sometimes all we want is to dance and sing along and know that everyone everywhere feels heartbreak.
but idk! that's the consumer end of it. do we really want to be catered to like this? do we want to be presented with music that is cut and rearranged and bastardized and bastardized and bastardized all so it can catch our constantly waning attention? who needs to change first? one of us will have to.
and idk! the article somewhat nonchalantly ended by saying that "of course," there are some genres where people will still appreciate longer songs, "like rock and techno," as if rock artists aren't struggling to pay bills all the same.
idk, man. i'm old enough to remember hearing a song on the radio, or even fucking mtv, and going out the next day to buy the full album with my pocket money, just hoping it'll be as good as that one song. and if it wasn't, was that really so bad? i'd rip my favorites off the cd to burn my own mixtape, and then i'd sell the cd to someone else, for them to enjoy. but those were different times. sometimes i find artists that don't offer cds anymore at all.
idk. idk. i'm going to uninstall every app and handwrite a letter to sony to demand all songs be a minimum of 8 minutes long. figure it out.
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sports-on-sundays · 20 days
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hold you while you sleep / CL16 / Part 3
Summary: dad!Charles x French!reader - Now it's time to see how much louder Charles's actions speak louder than his words.
Warnings: 'Y/s/n' means 'your son's name,' you are free to imagine the son as whatever age he acts because I leave that unspecified, crying, kissing, implied sexual actions (seriously it's like two extremely vague small paragraphs), nervousness, censored curse, random name chosen for sister
Requested?: No.
Author's Note: @milenag2008 asked me to tag them, so thank you, and I hope you especially enjoy! Same song as inspiration. Link to part 1 / Link to part 2
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Even though you've been trying to go on dates with Charles now for over a month, every single time you sit across the table from him, both your hands folded on the table, you can't shake the thought of how much it looks like you're about to sit down and have a very serious business interview.
But Charles always gets too antsy, takes your hand, and starts rubbing it anxiously, until one of you starts talking.
And this time, it's you who decides to speak.
"I feel like we're two high school students dating, by the way we're carrying on like this," you say with a sigh.
His thumb gently kneads the back of your hand. "It just takes a few minutes for us to loosen up. It's okay."
"I feel like we went full circle."
He looks up, meeting your eyes. "Yeah?"
"We started out dating just like this. All nervous and awkward, until we both leaned into it and loosened up. And then... we got married, and it all happened."
"This time around, I'm going to do it right."
You nod, staring at your hands, eyes glazed over. "I think Y/s/n likes it."
"I know he likes it."
You nod again, gently entwining your fingers with his nervous ones. There's some silence, before you mutter, "You've been doing good, Charles."
He looks up. "I want to be perfect for you."
"Nobody is perfect, but you've been acting pretty damn close to it. But it's just the beginning."
He sighs, nodding. He doesn't like the negative connotation you seem to end every exchange like this with, and you both know it, but you don't intend to stop until he's really proven himself.
You don't know what that means, but...
Yeah.
You figure you'll know when you know.
"Want to come sit next to me?" Charles asks.
"That's awkward," you immediately say.
He frowns.
You stand up and walk around to sit next to him. His arm immediately pulls you into him, and he whispers, "Just want cuddles."
You smile a little as he strokes your hair.
He's so soft with you. He never pushes anything.
You sigh, and you don't know if it's a content one or not.
After another month, Charles has been hanging around a lot more at your house, and Y/s/n is loving it.
Today, as you sit at the table, playing Sorry! with Y/s/n as Charles straightens up a bit (only because he offered to, seeing how hard you were trying to balance giving your son attention and getting the cleaning done), Y/s/n suddenly says with a giggle as Charles dusts a shelf in that room, "I'm so happy Daddy is here, Mama."
You smile softly, ruffling his hair a bit. "Yeah. Daddy makes good company, huh?"
He grins, seeming to love those words coming from your lips. "Yeah! Come on, Daddy! Can Daddy play with us?"
Charles smiles and says, "I'm cleaning for your mama right now, buddy."
He frowns, pouting. "Daddy..."
He smiles and says gently, "I'll tell you a secret, Y/s/n."
You watch with an eyebrow cocked up as, of course, the young boy leans in closer to listen to his dad, who says softly, "Usually, Mama cleans, but sometimes, she gets tired. Sometimes, Mama needs to be taken care of, too."
You smile a little, perplexed, as Charles says this.
Your little son's eyes widen. "Really?"
"Yeah, really," Charles smiles, standing up straighter again to gently set his hand on your shoulder. "Your mama loves you, and it's important for you two to play together. So that's why I'm cleaning up for her."
"Daddy?" Y/s/n begins. "Do you ever have to be taken care of?"
Charles blinks at this question, and begins, "Oh, well, I usually can just take care of mys-"
Suddenly you interrupt, though, "No, Y/s/n. I think Daddy's a little confused." You grab his arm and pull him down to your seated level, saying softer, more to Charles himself than actually to your son, "Because even Daddy needs to be taken care of, sometimes, too."
You look at your blushing partner with a little smile, and gently give him a kiss on the cheek.
Often, date nights are when you lock up, and memories that make you uncomfortable to do anything come flooding back. But just spending time, doing the most mundane things- that's when your affection just seeps out.
And Charles seems to love it.
Later that night, after you and Charles put Y/s/n to bed together, you softly singing and Charles reading a story, you sit on the couch together. You were originally about to watch a show together, but that idea was soon lost when tactile Charles pulled you into his arms, letting you lean your head in his lap, and began stroking your hair.
After a while, though, you murmur, "It's probably so late. You need to be getting back to your house."
You look up at him to see him frown. "Can't I just stay here?" he asks, pulling you closer, like a teddy bear.
"For the night?"
He nods.
You swallow. That would be a step.
But all of this has been going to fast. Both of you were trying to take it slow and easy, but perhaps since years ago, you had a relationship like this, it's easy to head through it fast.
For instance, right now, you nod. "Okay. You can stay for the night."
He nods, and you sit up a bit.
He just pulls you onto his lap, earning a little mindless giggle from yourself. "You've always been so clingy and snuggly."
"You don't mind that, do you?"
You shake your head. "Out of all the things you could mess up with, you holding me close is the least of my worries."
He sighs. There's your negativity again.
"What you said earlier- about taking care of me, too. I liked that," he says, changing the conversation topic.
"Yeah, I'm sure you did, Daddy," you chuckle softly.
His nose scrunches up, but he blushes. "Don't say that..."
"Why do you blush, then?"
He groans, laughing a bit, leaning back his head.
And you're surprised to hear your lips utter, "You're good. You're a good Daddy."
"You think?" he says, his eyebrows shooting up.
"Well, you sure take care of Y/s/n well. You two are so sweet. He just adores you."
"Funny enough, I think the same thing about you and him when I watch you together."
You chuckle, "Do you?"
"Yeah," he grins. "And you know it's the best when it's all three of us."
You nod slowly, leaning your head into his chest. "Yeah. I think you're right about that."
You wake up to the shrill screaming of your son: "Mama! Daddy!" And suddenly, a little boy jumps on you.
"Huh-?" you blink groggily to see your son, sitting on your stomach, grinning.
He looks overjoyed.
"Hey- hey, love, what's up?"
He grins. "You and Daddy are cuddling! Does that mean Daddy doesn't miss you anymore?!"
"Hmmm...?" Charles puts in, his eyes fluttering open at the over-energetic boy's screaming in excitement.
But just those words from him seem to wrench your heart out, and in that moment, it hits you.
Charles can't mess this up, because it's not only about me, now. It would also break this little boy's heart.
You swallow. Sure enough, you fell asleep practically on top Charles, who has his arms wrapped around your body.
"Daddy? Are you happy now?"
He smiles sleepily, and you have to admit, it's adorable. "Yeah, I'm happy. You want to know why?"
"Why?" he asks, bouncing on your stomach a bit, which makes you go 'oof.'
"Hey, hey," Charles chuckles. "Don't hurt Mama!"
He stops, but asks again, "Why?"
"Because I've got your lovely mama sleeping here in my arms," he says softly near your ear, before kissing your cheek.
You constantly wonder if he's trying to charm you, or if he just is that charming.
"Yeah, Mama!" the energetic boy wholehearted agrees innocently. "You are lovely."
You chuckle a little, picking up the little boy and slipping out of Charles's lap, "Thank you. You're very handsome. Now, let's go get you dressed and ready for school."
Charles, whenever he's not racing, seems to make it to your house.
He's gone for a while, though, and after it being about four months, since you accepted to date him again, your head is spinning.
So after Y/s/n is in bed, and he reaches you from behind and wraps his arms around your waist, instead of leaning into it, you murmur, "Can you... not, right now?"
He immediately takes his hands away. "What's wrong?"
You shrug, going to plop down on the couch. "I'm just kind of... nervous."
His eyebrows crease together. "Why?"
You swallow. "Just thinking about us."
He frowns at this. "What about us?"
"Sometimes, I just get nervous. Uncomfortable with being held... Memories flood back... and I just don't feel very good."
He looks nervous himself now. "Baby," he says softly. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
"It's... okay. I honestly think I do believe you're better now."
This seems to reassure him a bit, but he murmurs, "I wish you never had to hurt again."
You sigh. "Everyone wishes that, Charles. No point spending time on something that is impossible."
He nods slowly. "But I just want us to be as comfortable as possible, together. As a family."
"I know," you sigh.
Suddenly you sigh, and flop your head into his lap. "I just want to feel safe! Secure! I want to trust... I don't want to remember what you did..."
He nods slowly, whispering, "I wish I could erase all of that."
"Me, too," you sniff a bit.
"Lovely, don't cry," he breathes, automatically wiping at your cheek as a tear falls down it.
You swallow, but tears keep coming. You're not even sure why.
Maybe there's just a lot left to work though.
Strangely enough, you and your son go to your first race together.
Years ago, you used to go to Charles's races, and you know Charles has set up to bring Y/s/n a few times, having other people take care of him.
But you two go together, to watch Charles.
It doesn't seem like it would be, but because it's such a huge part of his life, it's important to Charles. Really important. And important to your relationship, too.
Well, at five months of dating, you finally take it to the next level of intimacy with him. Let yourself trust him enough. And once his tongue is intertwined with yours, it's hard not to melt into him and let him have control- let him go as far as he wants.
And God, you forgot how good that feels.
Of course, he doesn't do anything, or take any step, without making sure it's okay with you first.
Charles, as you realize after, as he tenderly holds you and lavishes you with affection, can have his way with you, if he so desires.
You're not sure if this fact makes you excited or terrified.
Perhaps both.
And at six months of this, you have your first argument, merely days after Charles presented you with a lovely dinner at an expensive restaurant for your half-year anniversary.
You didn't even know that was a thing, let alone that Charles was going to celebrate it.
But he seems to celebrate just by the fact that all of this is actually happening.
Your head spins with you think about all this actually happening.
The argument starts when Charles flat out comes out saying, as you drive to one of Y/s/n school events, "On Saturday, we're going out on the boat."
"Who?" you ask, looking up at him.
"You, me, Arthur, Lorenzo, Y/s/n."
"No, we're not," you say, your eyebrows knitting together.
He frowns. "Why not?"
"You can go do that, but you can't just make plans so suddenly like that and expect I'll be available."
"What have you got going on, then?" he frowns deeper.
"I promised one of Y/s/n's friends' moms that I would watch her kid," you grumble.
Charles makes an annoyed little sound, saying, "Why can't you take him out on the boat?"
"Don't be ridiculous! There's no way I'm taking someone else's kid to Monaco to go on a boat ride with my boyfriend and his brothers!"
"Couldn't you ask?"
"No!" you glare. "That's so impolite! There's no way I'm asking that."
"Please?" he groans. "Can you just say something came up?"
"Charles, it's your fault for scheduling something so suddenly. I'm sorry; I can't go. Maybe you can just take Y/s/n."
"But I told them you would be there!"
"Told who?"
"My brothers! They haven't seen you in so long- they're so glad to hear we're back together. Come onnn."
Your jaw clenches in annoyance as Charles pulls into the parking lot. "Why would you say I'm going to be there before you've even told me about it?"
"I don't know!" he groans. "I wasn't thinking!"
"Clearly," you snort ruefully as he parks. "You know, I think it's obnoxious of you. You can't think you can just make plans for our whole family whenever you want. That's just not fair. You're not in charge here; you need to check with me, first."
"Sorry! I didn't know!" he complains.
You scoff a little, unbuckling your seat belt, "You sound like Y/s/n when he's in trouble. Grow up a little. You should know."
It makes it easier, still having everything in your mind of what this same man did to you years ago, to get mad at him, for little things.
And in that sixth month, things like this start happening more and more.
You lay in bed, alone, since Charles wasn't able to come over, staring up at the ceiling.
You're nervous. What if this wasn't the right thing, after all? What if you're just going to break up again in the end, and this whole thing will be a waste that just leaves things even more in shambles than they already were to begin with?
Your head pounds, and you start to sweat a bit as you think about this, running your hand through your hair as your breathing quickens.
So when you hear a knock on the door, already in your slightly panicked state, it feels terrifying to get out of bed and pad towards the door, trying to be silent, as to not wake your son up. You stand up on your tip toes to peek through the peephole, and sigh in relief when you see it's just Charles.
You grab the doorknob with your clammy hand and twist it open, whispering, "Charles, why are you here?"
His hands gently meet your waist as he walks in and shuts the door behind himself. "I missed you. I knew I wouldn't get here until late, but I wanted to see you."
You nod slowly, taking this in, "Oh- Okay."
He looks concerned, though. "I thought you would still be awake. I'm sorry. It looks like I woke you up."
But you shake your head 'no.' "I was just laying awake in bed."
"Mind if I lay with you?"
You shake your head again, and you head to the bedroom. Once you're both safe under the covers, laying side by side, Charles says, "You seem troubled. Is something wrong?"
You sigh, thinking for a few seconds, before saying, "Just thinking about us."
He looks slightly nervous, but nods. "I have been, too."
Your eyes meet, both of your heads turned to face each other. "Oh, yeah?"
He nods. "We've been arguing more. About silly things, but I've seen a common theme in all our arguments."
You swallow. "What's that?"
He finds your hand under the blankets. "It usually all starts with me, not being thoughtful enough. I'm sorry. And ever since I've realized this, I've been trying to think of your good and Y/s/n's good more often, instead of mine, and what I want to do. It's all a process, but I just wanted to let you know where I'm at... because I think we've both learned from experience that communication is key. And I know the right thing isn't to let this end. Okay?"
You nod, squeezing his hand, a certain relief filling your whole being. "Yeah. That sounds good. I'll try to give you the benefit of the doubt more often, and remember you're trying your best, and nobody is perfect. Even," you give him a tired but playful little smirk, "if sometimes, you sure do seem f*cking perfect."
He chuckles and comments, "Coming from the most drop dead gorgeous woman I've ever laid my eyes upon."
You giggle a little, cuddling closer to him. He wraps his arms around you, and you murmur, "Will you just stay awake for a bit? Just talk to me. I want to hear your voice."
He smiles softly, plants a kiss on your forehead and begins whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
The last thing you remember him murmuring before you drift off is: "I'm so glad we can be here, right now. Together. You feel like my dream, coming true. But you've had a long day, and you've worked hard. So you can go to sleep now, baby, and let me hold you while you sleep."
And you do just that.
You lean back, lounging next to Charles, looking up at the beautifully painted sky. As the sun sinks, it looks like the horizon has been painted with all different bright strokes of a brush. It casts a golden light on everything, and reflects on the bright blue expanse of water, lighting up your world.
Charles has been talking of you moving to Monte Carlo with him. Moving back to Monaco.
And this day sure makes the idea tempting. Driving around with Charles in his luxury car, with the wind in your hair, to meet Y/s/n, Pascale, Lorenzo, Arthur, and your older sister, Rebecca, at the boat. Then swimming a bit in the water when the sun was still high. And once it started sinking lower, to sit out on the water, back in the boat eating your dinner with your loved ones surrounding you.
You had started with simply, raising your glass to the sky, "Cheers to the beautiful evening!"
Pascale had put in, "Cheers to our lovely family!"
"Cheers to to the yummy food!" Y/s/n had squealed, stumbling over his words a bit as he copied you two and stuck up his cup of apple juice.
"Cheers to Y/s/n being my favorite nephew!" Arthur had laughed playfully, ruffling the boy's hair.
"Your only nephew," you had teased with a grin.
"Cheers to the young at heart!" your sister, Rebecca, put in with a grin, looking out at the lovely sea.
"And cheers to a good life, hm?" Lorenzo had added with a glimmer in his eyes.
Just as everyone was about to clink glasses and drink to it, Charles put in, looking at you straight in your eyes and wrapping his arm around you, "And cheers to forever."
Cheers to the young at heart, a good life,
And forever.
No one sees it, but for some reason, with all the loving people around you, all the laughter and joking and joy, that brings a tear to your eye.
Because this is what I want. This is want I want.
Forever.
So now you shut your eyes against Charles, feeling the warm sun on your body. You listen to Charles's heartbeat. You listen to Arthur playing with and chasing around Y/s/n. You listen to Pascale in the kitchen, humming as she gets the sweet desert ready. You listen to your sister and Lorenzo, standing at the railing, talking softly as they look out at this beautiful world.
And it is a beautiful world, isn't it?
Your eyes flutter as your heart feels whole.
Isn't that just part of this romance?
Nine months of this, now, and you don't want it to ever stop. You don't want to ever let go of it.
And you feel Charles's warm breath on your ear as he gently whispers, "Forever, Y/n, right?"
You grin, nuzzling into him, wrapping your arms around him. "Right. Forever."
Author's Note: I was thinking of writing an epilogue to this originally, but after how this ended, I don't know, because I might want to just leave it hanging like that. But what do you think? Because if you guys want an epilogue, I'll write one.
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ewanmitchelll · 4 months
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Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (XI): Haunted.
Imagine you are transported to the past… instants before the legendary battle between Aemond and his uncle Daemon Targaryen occurs. What will you do? Part II.
Warnings 1: smut, DRAMA, angst. But fluff endings of course.
Warnings 2: loosely based on “Outlander”.
Warnings 3: long post.
***
You and I walk a fragile line. I have known it all this time but I never thought I'd live to see it break. It's getting dark and it's all too quiet and I can't trust anything now…
You open your eyes and all you see is a different scenario. There are strange sounds in your surrounding, a mix of voices you cannot identify yet.
Nevertheless you take your time, pain reclaiming your body as you struggle to reclaim your conscience.
“Y/N! Oh my God, it’s really you! You have returned to us!”
You say nothing in turn, barely blinking. Just as you try to rise, you nearly drop again. Not because of the hurting in your lungs and ribs, but mainly due to the memories of happy days.
“She’s very disoriented”, perhaps it’s your friend saying, but you don’t recall it now, giving no importance as of yet to her.
“Can you actually blame her? She has been tossed in God knows what time and place in the past and here she is. One wonders what she went through.”
You remember his smile, the warmth of his body, and then… you recollect of your fall, of how you planned to tell him that you are pregnant. Now looking for signs that you may have miscarried, you somehow sense that you have not.
A brief relief that is, however, incapable of easing the pain you are now in.
“Margaery”, you say when recognizing the first voice. “Lyna.”
The two younger females, surrounded by two older women, breathe in relief and throw themselves around you. You cannot help but weep too, even though this meeting tastes bittersweet.
Keeping the heartbreaking ache for yourself, you try to concentrate in the present, paying no attention in the look of concern the elderly ladies give you.
But takes two minutes before you pull away from the embrace to throw up. Under the quizzical look of your friends, you dissimulate, saying:
“Time traveling does this to sensitive people.”
“Well, what do I know of the side effects of such a thing?”, says Margaery, pleased to make you smile.
“How long was I off?”, you ask as you finally stand and, to your surprise, there are but only your two closest friends and two old ladies.
“No more than a couple of days”, says Lina. “We told your aunt that you went traveling with that research group you were part of.”
“How convenient”, you say, appreciating their efforts. “But how did you…”
“She went after us”, says the elderly lady, who introduces herself as the Priestess of R’Hllor, an old and ancient faith of Westeros named Krysta. “Although there would little need to do so for we were informed of the awakening of the spell by the Lord of The Light.”
Her companion adds:
“The past is dark and full of terrors.”
“Full of terrors, indeed”, you remark without second thoughts. “But full of delights as well.”
At the memory of your beloved, his smile, his touch, his fierceness… your burst into tears.
***
It's getting dark and it's all too quiet and I can't trust anything now. And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake…
The rage Lord Aemond experiences is inexpressible. The one-eyed prince still rewinds in the back of his mind your fall, the fear and desperation in your gaze, how you cried out his name before disappearing out of his sight. What makes his good eye tear up is the memory of happiness in instances switched to the one of despair and desolation.
He lost you.
Because of his uncle, who, it seems, planned this vengeance for a long while.
The battle follows, despite your voice calling his name still howling in the back of his mind. His conscience subtly accuses him of letting you be taken away, in resulting in his early and unexpected widowhood.
Hatred thunders in his chest and Aemond screams against the storm. Vhagar’s follows, echoing her rider’s angst.
“Ah, nephew! One loss for another loss, is it not how it’s said? Or perhaps one eye for an eye? Which suits better?”, he can hear Daemon’s provocation through the electric curtain of air. “Lucerys shall be avenged! Likewise every family member your bloody house caused it!”
He doesn’t answer, instead pulling the reins of Vhagar, who now spit fire over Caraxes. But, faster in size and age, the red dragon flies away before diving to bite Vhagar once more.
“DRACARYS!”
Whoever cries out the order, matters not. Fire against fire results in blood. When a kin fights the other, they fall in disgrace before the Gods.
Dragons dance in a mortal beat. No good is found within the Prince’s heart. Both enemies are moved by vengeance, haunted by past mistakes, by wrong choices.
Can the situation be averted, though? The battle follows unpredictably, whirling violently around both princes.
But if Aemond cannot live with you, he will die dragging his beloved uncle down to the Seven Hells with him.
***
Carrying on like nothing has happened proves to be a really difficult task. The priestesses asked you many questions about the past and your interference in such events.
“If, however, R’Hollor wanted to send you there, a reason there is. Unknown is the purpose before our eyes, not least should it be questioned, though”, so you were told.
Your friends were eager to know about your adventures and you could only tell so far how it was to live amidst the royalty in the worst civil war Westeros went through.
However, the current days look terribly wrong to you. Everywhere you are reminded of him, your prince, the very one you’ve always disliked due to your historical studies at college and at school.
Here you are, driving to a lake house, accompanied by Margaery, who is, by all efforts, the one you’ve been the closest to… and who didn’t give you up during the moments you’ve been at your worse.
About a month has passed every since you fell back to your own days.
“By the melancholy you’ve been plagued to, I dare say this is more than living amidst the luxury and richness so characteristic of the nobility”, she says after a while.
From King’s Landing to the said lake house takes about three hours driving. But it’s been one since you both drove in silence.
“How obvious is that?”, you side smirk at Margaery, who smiles knowingly back.
“I just know you well, is all.”
Margaery waits. She gives you time, respecting your spiritual state at the moment, for which you are thankful for.
“You wouldn’t believe me…”
“My dear, I watched you disappear like wind blows away dust. You should by now I am not skeptical. Not anymore.”
Your fingers top at the driving wheel before you sigh. And then Margaery is told about the infamous rogue prince, Lord Aemond Targaryen.
***
Come on, come on, don't leave me like this. I thought I had you figured out. Something's gone terribly wrong. You're all I wanted…
Dragons dance still. Melody is painfully mixed to that sound of thunders. Eventually, however, one of the pair must fall. And all indicates that Lord Aemond is not getting his revenge this evening, which only fuels his anger.
Then a solution occurs him.
A mad one, perhaps, but his pride doesn’t wish to admit it. Like Vhagar, Aemond doesn’t leave a battle unless he’s the victor of it.
But now he’s losing, all he can think of is you. Haunted by memories that, until not so long ago, were the merriest he’s ever experienced, the silver haired male feels abandoned by all, a pawn of Gods to their disgraced game where he’s but a misfortuned man.
Aren’t we all?
A thought that occurs him when thinking of his mad sister and insane brother. His family, it appears, payed a high price for the crown. Now it costs all they have. And when remembering the hints you gave him…
Every hope dies. Agonizing, Lord Aemond regains his strength, but Daemon Targaryen outwits him. Therefore, the kinslayer is defeated.
***
Come on, come on, don't leave me like this. I thought I had you figured out. Can't breathe whenever you're gone. Can't turn back now, I'm haunted…
You stop driving in the road when an idea comes at you, that kind that doesn’t leave you rest easy unless you put it in practice.
“So you are telling me you are pregnant of a dead man?”, Margaery breaks the impulsivity that starts to rise in you when speaking after a long while in silence.
You laugh quietly.
“When you put things like that…”
“Well, this is a perspective one cannot unreason with”, she shrugs her shoulders, smiling at it. “But what then? This is a Targaryen child you are carrying in your belly. Do you consider the consequences of it?”
When seeing how pale you are, Margaery realizes that no, you haven’t considered that you are a carrying a pretender to the throne.
“No one needs to know, though”, she says. “The Queen has her heirs as you know.”
You turn at her, suddenly interested.
“I thought she was infertile? Has anything dramatically changed since I was tossed away?”
“No”, says Margaery. “I mean… Her nephew, son of the late prince Rhaegaer, is her husband. They are happily married, so it’s been said.”
You tilt your head, bearing a strange feeling.
“What prince Rhaegar’s son? His illegitimate son, a product of his liaison with Lady Lyanna of House Stark…?”
“Do you mean Jon Snow? Yes, he attends by Jaehaerys II now. He has a strong seed, so it’s been said, having given her some offspring.” And here she smirks in a gossiping manner.
“Ah”, you sigh in relief. “I thought something had been altered.”
But then you look miserable all the same because you know this means Aemond is dead. However… could have it been any different? It’s when you suddenly turn the wheel.
“Uh, my dear. What the hell do you think you are doing?”
You don’t tell her that you think you see him at times. That sometimes you have a glimpse of his face, an ethereal look of despair behind his one good eye as if he silently asks for help.
“Fuck it all”, you say. “I’m going back.”
“Going back where?”
“I cannot be haunted anymore”, you tell her and Margaery sees a mix of perseverance and stubbornness. “I will bring him here. I will bring him back.”
She shoots you a careful look.
“I admit I cannot fathom why on earth you’d do this to yourself, aware that modifying pieces of the past can alter the future. This is too dangerous. Think about your unborn child!”
This has the effect your friend desires, but you are still driving back on the road.
“I cannot give up on him, Margaery. I do not expect you to understand, but I know in my heart he’d not give up on me either.”
And we all know there is no remedy to stubbornness…
***
This is a race against the time. You come to figure it out that, funny as it may be, time works differently in past and present, mostly because Earth’s time works differently. Therefore, months you spent there by Aemond’s side meant you spent no more than a week or two disappeared.
Some part of you admonishes you for being reckless. You cannot simply take in consideration your desires, but the child whose life you must protect. The inheritance of Aemond’s love that will eventually grow and probably forced to live in secrecy, hiding away his legacy—even though with Aegon IV’s renowned productions of tons of illegitimate lines, nearly 90% of King Landing’s population bears some Targaryen blood.
But you want to save him. Like he saved you. Perhaps this is madness, but going back in time was an impossibility never before credited.
“I must try”, you tell her, or perhaps to convince yourself. “I just… must try.”
Margaery doesn’t say a word, rather instead supporting you, which you deeply appreciate.
“I’ll be here for you, regardless of your choices”, she says gently.
“I appreciate it”, you shoot her a thankful glance. “Truthfully I do.”
***
Oh, holding my breath. Won't see you again. Something keeps me holding on to nothing…
It’s cloudy and cold. Although it’s hardly compared to Winterfell’s winter or even that last winter whose scars are still there within you, it’s not warm nevertheless.
Wind howls as if it’s disdaining your attempts in doing what is out of your control. Your curls are a mess as you climb the hill with Margaery behind you, telling you to be careful.
As you turn at her, you realize that this is not only about you.
“Marg”, you stop half the way to put her in a hug. “I’m sorry for involving you in this. I’m sorry for not being the one person I was before.”
“You don’t have to apologize for being who you are. We are all survivors, haunted by the past in many ways. Fighting for love is not something most are willing to do this day”, she tells you. “You know I’m here for you, no matter what. I’m just protective over you.”
“I know. So am I to you, I hope you know that.”
When a bond like this is formed, no bad weather, no conjecture can break. Such friendship is rare to see, but existing nevertheless. Both you and Margaery know that.
And now you part, leaving her to wait, prompted to go back to prayers for your safety. However, as you stand high at the Aegon’s Hill, between the stones, the spell doesn’t work.
“No”, you mumble, trying not to be surrendered by despair at the first try. “No, no. Come on!”
You try to recollect mystic words you believe you’ve heard, but to no avail. You cling onto a stone nearby, eyes closing, however, it doesn’t work either.
Wind howls louder, as if it laughs, and yet it appears you spot ethereal creatures not too far.
You try to hold onto this hope, but maybe this is a trick of nature. No matter what you do, you remain where you are.
“Aemond…”
Your eyes are blurred by tears.
I know. I know. I just know. You're not gone, you can't be gone, no…
You don’t realize you are sobbing until your knees go weak and they collide against the grass. Rain thus starts to pour and your reason cannot conceive the obvious.
Aemond is gone. Past is unreached. You are where you should be… and had it not been for your unborn child, you’d believe all had nothing but a dream.
“Y/N!”, Margaery cries out your name. “Come on! Rain is about to fall!”
You know the wind is too strong for her to face it. Therefore you recollect your dignity and stand.
“I’ll be on my way”, you yell back.
But your voice dies as rain finally drops. It falls violently over you and with the wind, it is as if you’ve been trapped in a storm.
“Oh”, you are now scared when struggling to go back. “What have I done?”
The more you walk, the more difficult it is to leave the circle of stones. To some believers, they’d tell you that you are being punished by the Gods for meddling where you should not be.
However, what if they are playing with you? The Targaryens answer to no men nor gods, but you are no Targaryen. You are a common lass, tossed away in the past to serve some mysterious God a wicked purpose.
These are not your thoughts, though. As a mother-to-be, you realize you must protect your child at all costs. It’s when the unexpected happens.
Right when Margaery is decided to push you out of those bloody stones back to the safety of the car, is when you disappear before her eyes.
“Y/N!”
But you never hear her calling your name.
***
Aemond is not lifeless under water. He’s been rescued by a soldier, loyal to the green house. A few months have passed since this soldier, who happens to be familiar with a priest of the Lord of the Light, was instrumental in getting him back.
When being told of how close to death he was, Aemond says nothing.
“You must not be a ghost in living flesh, lord”, insists the said soldier. “We must get back to our cause at once. The Lord of Light demands it to be so, having impeded you to go to the dark lands of death. He has a purpose to which you now must serve.”
“Targaryens bend to no deity nor men”, he retorts, standing and making his own path.
But reality is worse than he thought. Under a dark cape, he mixes with the populace and there he is informed that the Good Queen Helaena has committed suicide and that Aegon is close to death.
Some say he’s the victim of slow poisoning.
Whatever it is, bells ring that day to announce old king Aegon, Second of His Name, usurper to many and kinslayer to others, has died. His successor is, to Aemond’s consternation, Aegon III.
“The son of the Rhaenyra, the Proud”, so he is told by a peasant. “But it’s how the wheel of fortune is, very fair if you ask me. However the new king is a child, therefore a council must be formed.”
And here he is informed how Daemon Targaryen lives and is the chief of the said council on behalf of his only surviving son.
Whatever truth there is in such informations, Aemond feels desolated. Haunted by what cannot return, orphaned of a family that, for better or worse, put him in this violent path, he is like an errant knight with no cause to fight for.
Hopelessness moves his steps and it’s when he spots Aegon’s Hill and its mystical stones.
Can't breathe whenever you're gone. Can't go back, I'm haunted
“Y/N”, he calls your name.
The rogue prince is tempted to turn his back. There’s nothing for him now. He has no dragon, and is as vulnerable now as he was as a child. Indeed, as he’s been told, he’s now a ghost in living flesh.
Even so, what’s there to lose by going there?
Perhaps a spark of hope in seeing you again leads his steps, crossing discreetly, invisibly even, all those strange faces that carry on with their insignificant lives all the whilst the wheel of fortune turns again.
It’s when he sees you.
“This cannot be…” he mutters, perplexed. “I am seeing a phantom! This is only the plausible explanation…”
But when you see him too, every pain and angst are finally put to the past. One runs to the other, finding in a warm embrace the peace both of you needed.
“I am no phantom, my darling! No spectrum of time.”
“Oh, wife! Don’t leave me like this ever again!”
“Husband”, you sniff, forehead rested against forehead, hands cupping his face. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know. But you came back to me”, says he, his voice embargoed.
“I would never leave you.”
Words are dismissed when he grabs your waist and then holding your face as if to ensure you are real, not a ghost haunting him indeed, he pursuits your lips like a famine man.
There, in the streets, post chaos of civil war, two strangers embrace like peasants and kiss hungrily like commoners.
***
“Come back with me”, you tell him anxiously, dragging him back to Aegon’s Hill. “This is too much to ask, I know…”
“No”, he cuts you gently. “I have nothing holding me here, lady. Not anymore. No family or friends, but foes who hold victory like you said.”
“I am sorry”, but before you could tell him he’s not lost his family, Aemond smiles at you and says:
“Do not be. It is what it is. Destiny is all.”
Locking hands with you, he takes one last challenge. For a purpose unknown, Aemond Targaryen not only lives… but outlives his days, his relatives and, mostly important, his enemies.
***
You still wait for the right moment to tell him you carry his child. There is too much going on. Like when it happened with you in his days, you make up a new background for him, especially when you introduced him to your aunt and uncle.
“His name is Aemon”, you purposely cut the “d” off his name. “He’s just started at Westeros university as a student of political sciences.”
Aemond holds back a snort, finding all of this very interesting. Thankfully, he’s still got some good gold with him so he’s not poor in this new existence.
Leaving aside matters of money, Aemond was shocked at how modern King’s Landing now is. The grand port in other days received products of Essos and the other Free Cities for trade and other purposes, has shrink in size and is now smaller than in his days.
There are now airports, better schools, places of knowledge like universities.
“Daeron would have liked that”, he once shared with you in a rather melancholic tone.
In these colleges, he comes to see that knowledge is no longer a privilege of maesters, but to all those who want to know better. There, rich and poor study with no distinctions. At least, in theory.
He’s also informed of other technologies and modern activities, before getting to know the most important matter of all: the rise of Queen Daenerys and her consort, King Jaehaerys.
“Bloody seven hells”, Aemond snorted. “Had Aegon seen this… not only he was succeeded by Rhaenyra’s son, but her lineage remains on the throne.”
“In these days women can rule just fine”, you told him then.
He still has some mindset to change, to which you give him time to get himself accostumed. And then he was told of the usurpation coming from the Lannisters, the almost break of the North and the subsequent mess coming from evil creatures that, once thought as mythical, proved to be very real. These were known as the Others, who followed a certain Night King.
It took Aemond several weeks to absorve all of this information, and once he considered that he could get used to this, he sought a home for you two to live lawfully as husband and wife after beginning his studies in the said course of political sciences.
Yet, before you two truly began living your lives as a married couple, he had to meet your family, of course.
“My mother and dad, along with my younger siblings, are living in Sunspear, now. Who’d ever thought, right? A northern family living all good in the South…”
And then you introduced Aemond to cellphone, video-calls and other brand new technologies that almost drove him to the insanity.
Nevertheless here you two are. Once acquainted with your family and friends, and married in civil ceremony—he still wants to go on with a religious one, and you gladly comply with his wishes, it’s just you are still “I cannot believe this is really happening” mood.
So now you two are in bed. You watch as Aemond, short-haired, partially nude, is wearing glasses as he reads the history of Westeros. He’s so concentrated that it begins to arouse you.
It’s been two months since the marriage, at least in its medieval form, has been consumed. Now every obstacle has been knocked down, you realize how much you have missed him… carnally, speaking.
Perhaps it’s just your hormones speaking, but you let your hair loose and adjust your modern nightgown so it shows some skin. And then you crawl to his side.
“Mm, honey. What are you reading?”, you whisper in his ear, a hand playing with his short, messy hair all the whilst another rests in his belly.
Distracted at first, for he’s always been one to sharp his wit—despite not being considerate the brightest of the family, that title passed to his younger brother, Daeron—, he takes a few seconds to answer you.
“Uh? Oh, yes, I’m reading about the history of my family. For better or worse, we are all related”, he grumbles under his breath. “Have you read about…?”
His words die interrupted when you start kissing his neck and your hand slides below his belly, resting over his manhood, quietly hidden underneath his garments.
“Lady…”, he groans, eyes fluttering.
“Yes, my lord husband?”, you slowly move closer, your eager fingertips pulling down his garments and then…
And then Aemond puts his book aside, finally paying attention in you.
It’s when he notices your boobs are bigger than last time he saw them denuded, to the point they are almost dropping out the cloth of your nightgown.
“Oh, it’s been so long”, he groans, breath cut short the moment you begin to stroke him up and down, teasing the tip of it with your thumb. “My lady wife…”
“Yes?”, you turn at him, pursuing his lips sensually.
“Let me put away these…”, he chuckles before putting away his glasses. “Aren’t you a little on fire today?”
“Mmm”, you kiss his neck now, stroking him intently, aroused in turn at his sounds.
“Oh Lords!”, the former prince groans louder.
It’s when the dragon awakes and he kisses you just as hungrily, rolling his body over yours as he removes your hands, locking them above your head.
Watching as you rub one leg to the other, he doesn’t take long before lifting your nightgown and then… dropping his head to your nipples all the whilst his fingertips move to your core, pleased to find your womanhood wet.
As he teases you, though, Aemond’s eyes search for yours, finding in them the same fire that burns him. He raises his head to whisper some unspeakable things in your ear and right before you come undone, he lifts his hips and…
“Fuck, Aemond!”, you curse loudly upon his thrust.
“Ah, Gods. This is so good!”, he moves slowly with you first. “I missed you, my lady! I have longed for this!”
Your hands now wrapped around his neck, you put him closer to you.
“I love you, my lord husband”, you moan sensually when your lips collide in a hungry kiss.
“As do I, my gorgeous wife!”
He notices, though, how different you look. And when you turn over him, surprising at how horny you are this day, he smirks:
“What have I done to my lady?”
“Oh you have made me a dragon rider, have you forgotten?”, you smirk, pleased to make him blush.
His hands going from your breasts to your waist, Aemond can see your belly is slightly bigger than last time he saw you nude. And if he’s good in math…
But he is too distracted by your ride to do it now, so the prince rises and, locking his body to yours, little wonder why you two come together at last.
“How synchronized are we”, you paint, refusing to let him go of you.
Aemond chuckles, putting you down to him, stroking your long y/c locks, admiring your y/c eyes as he peppers your face with gentle kisses.
“We are, my dearest. And it comes to my eyes, as well as my mouth, that your breasts are not only bigger, but more sensitive too.”
You blush deeply at his remark, a sight pleasant to his sight. He crawls over you, saying:
“There should be no embarrassment, lady, when we are lawfully married. You thought I’d not notice the changes in your body?”
“Aemond…”, your face is now bright red as he smiles warmly at you.
“And how you sang my name louder than the first time we copulated the moment I sucked it with my mouth?”, he smirks when spotting signs his words are arousing you. “How easier now you are, what’s the word for it again? Oh yes, horny.”
You bury your face in his shoulder, giggling like a little girl. But when his hand cups your left boob, you fear you might lose your self control. Sighing impatiently, you lean backwards and cupping his face you say what he wants to hear:
“I am carrying your child.”
Aemond beams, in complete delight.
“How dare you to keep these news out of me?”, says he in between chuckles.
“Well, I wanted to tell you in a better occasion”, you say, in reference to that fatidic evening. “But time parted us.”
Understanding what’s subtly said, Aemond nods. But sadness is a brief shadow that is instantly dismissed when his hand rests on your belly.
“Whether it’s a boy or a girl, I will love the same. However, they ought to bear a Targaryen name.”
“I thought we agreed to live discreetly, my love?”
“What’s the problem in naming a daughter Visenya Hightower?”
You laugh quietly.
“I doubt anyone bought that you are a distant Hightower.”
“But I am”, he insists.
“Yeah, right, but you have Targaryen looks, handsome. Look at these purple irises of yours for an instance.”
“If anything I have a Dornish ancestral. Those of Starfall have purple eyes. The Danes, to be fair.”
You stroke his cheek, caressing it gently, watching as he rests his head in your hand, locking gazes with you.
“A family to call your own”, you whisper.
“Indeed, and for that I am more than thankful”.
Saying so he kisses your lips slowly.
***
• Epilogue. Two years later..
A fragile line that is not so fragile anymore. All seems well that ends well.
You watch as Aemond runs with the twins, named Helaena, to honour his sister, and Visenya, his ancestress whom he’s very fond of. As you pat your belly, pregnant for the second time, you watch the beautiful scenario, very content for living it in peace.
It’s when you notice a woman, apparently the same age as Aemond, cast him and the children a glance. She has a shade of silver in her reddish hair. Something about her makes you stand and promptly move after him.
But before you get to Aemond and share with him your twisted sentiments, the girl herself says:
“I have a feeling we’ve known before”, she smiles gently.
To you, the same sentiment is there. You are baffled by it, unsure where it comes from.
“I’m sorry, have we met?”, Aemond inquires, puzzled, as he holds both twins in his arms.
“Not exactly in this lifetime, I’m afraid”, and turning at you, she smiles. “My darling sister Y/N, so we meet again.”
You and your husband exchange looks. What is this?
“I’ve taken the name of Sarah, but in truth I am the reincarnation of your sister Helaena.”
Couldn’t things get any more complicated?
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bettyfrommars · 1 year
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Stop the World and Melt with You//Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
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✨One minute, you're bawling your eyes out in 2023, and the next thing you know--you're at a gas station with guy named Eddie, in a town that feels stuck in the 80's. The thought of traveling back in time hasn't occurred to you yet; maybe because it's way more than that.
Series Masterlist
✨Based in an alternative universe, I think the only triggers are that reader is terribly sad in the beginning and is having a hard time remembering things. Slow build. Mention of dad passing away. Word count: 2.9k
A/N: I'm not sure if I will turn this into a series, or if it will stay as a little weird piece floating in the ether 💕 (update: link to part 2 above)
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So, there you are, crying in your truck. Not that pretty kind of sniffling where a single tear runs down your cheek and your eyes glisten, but massive, snotty, choking sobs. Gasping, wailing, shoulders bouncing, wringing your hands on the steering wheel. You were crying so hard, you missed your exit. At least, you must have, because the exit numbers jumped from 12 to 14 in the time it took for you to wipe your eyes, mascara stinging, your throat raw. The song playing is full of hopeful love (Melt with You by Modern English) and you scream at the radio like a banshee, scrambling to turn it off.
You slow down and get over to the furthest lane, hands at 10 and 2, eyes squinting, ready to take that exit 15 to Empress Landing Road that your GPS keeps squawking about. The rain is coming down in sheets now, mirroring the tears that have run down your neck and soaked the collar of your gray sweatshirt. You approach the bend and take the exit, winding your way around to a two-way stop sign, and that’s when you lose all of the bars on your phone and a flat message cross the screen says: NO SIGNAL.
“What the hell,” you mutter to yourself, making sure no one is behind you before you reach over to grab your phone and bring it to your face for a closer look. No cell service and no wifi; perfect. Just what you were hoping for on this day of our lord, the worst day of your life. Not the actual worst, but close: when you lost your dad six months ago to cancer, that was the worst. It would all be a walk in the park from there for the rest of your life as far as bad days went.
You keep waiting for your phone to find it’s way back to the network, but you drive a couple miles and still nothing. The windshield wipers are flapping, and your head is throbbing to the beat. It doesn’t make you feel any better to look down and realize you’re almost out of gas and are about two minutes from coasting on Empty. You’ve got seven dollars in your wallet, but then there’s a couple hundred in your checking, and also the emergency credit card with an impressive $500 limit. All of that needs to be stretched out for another week until next payday.
Coming up on your left, you see a sign for “Gary’s Garage” right next to a double garage mechanics shop and a two pump gas station. You’re not sure if you have the luxury of pricing gallons of gas right now, with the way you’re about to be stuck on the side of the road, but out of habit, you check the prices on the sign anyway.
Wait...you try to focus your eyes, thinking maybe you’re seeing things, or perhaps one of the numbers on the sign had fallen off. There is no way gas is 5.7 cents a gallon, that’s insane. You figure maybe someone just put and extra zero in the front, so you hit your blinker and pull over your old truck bouncing down through a large puddle.
The rain shower lets up, thankfully, because there is no awning over where you need to pump your gas. You get out and pause at how old the gas tanks are. Nothing digital, all black and white flip numbers like on those old alarm clocks, and no where to pay outside. After looking at both of the tanks and scratching your head for a good minute or so, you turn to go inside when you see someone walking over from the garage.
He’s about your age, wearing dark gray coveralls that match the color of the overcast sky, long, curly dark hair tied back in a ponytail, and a blue banana on his head. He’s wiping is hands on a rag as his eyes widen at you, getting closer, close enough for you to see that his lips are soft and full, and his eyes are dark but kind.
“This way, follow me,” He tells you, motioning with a twitch of his head, cleaning down between the webs of his fingers as he goes.
You do as he says, in through the glass doors to a small space with two vending machines and a desk with an old fashioned cash register. You notice that the soda machine offers the drink TAB, which is a diet drink you haven’t seen around since you were just a kid. On the window sill behind him, there is a tiny black and white TV the size of a toaster with a vintage daytime soap opera on.
He reaches into a brown lunch sack on the window sill and puts a pretzel into his mouth. “How much do you want?” He asks, the pretzel drying up his mouth so he can’t enunciate as well. He grabs for an open can of Pepsi sitting near the TV to wash it down, and you can see that the creases on the skin of his hands seem to be stained with grease and dirt. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “I forgot to eat today.”
“It’s alright,” you see that the name on his coveralls reads: Eddie. “I just realized that I forgot to eat today, too,” you say, putting a hand on your stomach.
His tongue slips along his teeth under his lips to make sure there is no pretzel goo stuck behind as he looks at you, waiting for an answer to his question, but then he pulls a box of tissues out from under the counter and passes it to you.
“You’ve got…” he points to his eyes and makes a circle around one of them, and then points to you. “...from the rain probably but…”
Oh god, no. You realize that you never took a look at your face in the rear view before you got out of the truck. You’re so used to paying at the pump and getting the hell out of there without having to talk to anyone, you weren’t prepared to meet a cute guy in overalls.
“Um, thank you,” you say, self-consciously, sticking the tip of your tongue out to moisten the tissue so that you can wipe under your eyes. You look around and don’t see any type of reflective service to check and see if you got it all, but Eddie assures you:
“You got it,” he says with a wink. And then he stands there waiting, and you forgot what he asked you again, but finally…
“Gas! Right,” you look out at your truck, knowing what a gas guzzler she is. “Do you take debit cards?”
His forehead tightens, not sure he heard you correctly. “We take credit cards, sure.”
He reaches down to the same shelf where the tissue box had been and pulls out an archaic credit card machine that presses the credit card numbers onto the receipt with carbon paper. They haven’t been around in...20 years? Maybe more?
You wonder how this mom and pop, completely analogue service station, has been able to stay in business by keeping everything so simple. He sees that your hand trembles as you look through your wallet, realizing you don’t have the cash you thought you had, and then touching the credit card, trying to do the math in your head.
“We also take trade,” he tells you, matter-of-fact, tapping his finger on the wood table top, as if that’s another world wide form of modern currency.
“Trade?” Your mouth drops open a bit, your eyes shifting around, hoping he doesn’t mean sexual favors. But for him in particular, though, you might consider it.
“If...if you don’t have cash, I mean. You can just give me something in trade for the gas.”
You can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “I’m sure your boss wouldn’t like that.”
“How do you know I’m not the boss?” He asks, squaring his shoulders, crossing his arms at his chest, but then a little smirk pulls up one side of his mouth. Slowly, his smile widens, disarmingly, and it helps you to drop your guard.
“God, I’m having the worst day,” you confess to him on an exhale, your shoulders sinking, angry at yourself for feeling tears building in your eyes again. “You ever have one of those days when everything feels off and everything goes wrong?”
“Yeah,” he scoffs. “I’d say that’s pretty much every other day for me,” he gestures around with his free hand, and then he steadies his eyes on you and nibbles at his lip.
You choke back a sob that is lingering in your throat.
“Listen, what about this,” he is making a little circle on the table with his finger as he talks. “What if I get your gas for you, and then you let me take you to dinner?”
Your head snaps up, your bloodshot eyes meeting his. “Like...a date?”
He shrugs. “Or, just two people eating together. Whichever sounds better to you, princess.”
You inadvertently make a sloshing sound in your throat, jerking back a small spasm of tears. “I have to...I have get back home.”
Eddie’s eyes look momentarily set with sadness, but then he blinks, wetting his lips with his tongue.
“Where...where is home?” He asks you
You tilt your head as you try to remember, and it feels like trying to recall the colors of a marble lost down a dark well, never to be seen again. Was it red and green or blue and yellow? Did it have sparkles or was it clear with yellow speckles? You know there are so many possibilities in your brain somewhere, but you can’t find it.
“I..I don’t remember,” you cringe as you say it, placing your hand on your forehead to see if you have a temperature.
You snap your eyes up to his. “Hold on, just a second,” and then you pop open the snap on your wallet, your eyebrows knitting together as you turn it horizontally to grab your driver’s license.
“Wait, it should be right here,” you realize that that your ID isn’t in your wallet, neither are your credit cards or your cash. You spread the folds of your wallet open and shake it out on top of the counter, waiting for things to fall out.
Something yellow softly trembles from one of the slits in your wallet folds, and then flutters to the desk, landing between you and Eddie:
It’s the flattened flower from a daffodil; its the only thing in your wallet.
You and Eddie both stare at the flattened flower, and then Eddie picks it up, bringing it to his nose:
“This,” he raises his eyebrow, pinching it delicately, presenting it out like a prize. “This we can trade for. Daffodils don’t grow here this time of the year. This will get you a full tank.”
***
When you open the door to return to your truck, there are little kids scampering away, and one has your license plates clutched to their chest. All of them have long hair and over sized clothes that don’t fit, and the one with the dirty Hawkins basketball jersey seems to growl at you as they scamper across the road.
“Hey!” You scream. “Give that back!”
You start to head after them, but they are already disappearing into the corn fields and Eddie puts his hand on your arm. “Foreigner plates are always the first to go, sweetheart,” he tells you, as if it should be obvious. “They are worth a lot in trade. I thought I would have time to warn you.”
As your brain is trying to assess the situation, you come back to something he said. “Um...foreigner? Is that what you call someone who lives one state away?”
Eddie opens your gas cap and sticks the nozzle into your tank, and then he gives you a smile that you can’t read. “Which state are you in now, princess?”
“Well,” you rest your thigh against the bumper, forehead creased in thought, reaching one finger up to press thoughtfully against your mouth. There is a huge chunk of your memory, of the past 24 years of your life that you simply cannot recall.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie reaches out and squeezes your arm. He ducks his head down to try and get you to meet his eyes. “I’m sure it will all come back to you.”
“I feel like…” you search his face; it’s familiar in a way that makes you feel comforted, even though he is a stranger. “...like I was upset about something, but now I can’t remember what it was.”
He releases your arm, lifting his chin with a grin. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it? You just need some food and some rest.”
“Sure, if you say so.” you are bothered, but you also like the feeling of not having anything weigh on your mind. You’re just in this moment, here with Eddie, in this strange place, without any plates on your vehicle.
Eddie pumps your gas for you while you sit with your legs dangling out of the passenger seat to talk to him.
“When you check in at the motel, let Claudia know that you’re a friend of mine, hopefully she’ll give you a deal,” Eddie tells you. But, then he squints, “Mmmmh, or she also might charge you more, depends on her mood.”
“Motel?” You cock you head, confused.
“Oh, well,” Eddie sticks his free hand in his pocket. “I figured you’d be staying at The Grove because it’s the only motel in town.”
You remember a motel, that rings a bell. “Yeah,” you tell him, feeling a little better, like maybe things were coming back to you. “I am staying at a motel. I just forgot the name.”
You reach over to grab your phone so that you can put The Grove Motel into your GPS when you realize it’s not on the dash mount, and you can’t find it anywhere. With a curse, you realize that those kids must’ve taken it. Next to you on the seat is your suitcase, and your overnight back with toiletries and snacks is on the floorboard, and you are grateful they didn’t have time to take those. Your phone was insured for theft, and so you figured you’d just deal with that back at the motel.
“Okay, well, thank you,” you say to Eddie as you shut the heavy metal door to your truck, manually rolling your window down to continue talking with him. “I guess I’ll...see you later? You said that the diner is next door to the motel?”
Eddie nods, wiping his hands again. “It’s just a block away, connected to the bowling alley with the big, neon sign. You can’t miss it.”
He also said he would keep an eye out for your phone (in his head, he’s picturing a handheld landline with a cord, and doesn’t know why you had one in your truck) and your plates, in case anyone tries to trade them for gas or garage services; this happens a lot, apparently. Eddie gave you directions to the motel, which was basically a straight shot a couple miles down the road, and then you waved goodbye out the window as you pulled back onto the highway. You swore you turned the radio off earlier, but the same song Melt with You by Modern English is playing again, and you give it a curious look before turning the dial to find another station. Static and then...Master of Puppets by Metallica...a news story quoting Chief Jim Hopper...strange electric buzzing...the song Running up that hill (make a deal with god) by Kate Bush….more static...and then what sounds like two young kids talking back and forth on their walkie-talkies.
You snap the radio off just in time to make room to pass by 4 young kids hurrying along on their bikes. Ahead of you on the horizon, the sunset glows pink, purple, and orange, and a strange certainty washes over you, assuring you that you’ve been here before.
Eddie stands in the same place, watching you go, excitement and fear gripping his heart. He stuffs the rag into his back pocket and goes to twirl one of the rings on his hand like he normally does, but then he remembers they are all in a dish inside the shop.
A tall, scruffy, older man with a full head of gray hair and a mustache walks over from the garage to stand next to him. He’s in a pair of jeans with a dark blue, button-down shirt that has “Gary” embroidered on the pocket.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Another one,” Gary says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Eddie nods his head, silently, squinting as tiny flecks of raindrops hit his face, watching your brake lights tap as you pass a group of kids.
“She doesn’t remember anything,” Eddie says, biting his cheek in thought. “Just like the others.”
“She will,” Gary assures him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “When the time is right, it will all come back to her. Poor thing.”
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merrybloomwrites · 10 months
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You Can Start a Family (Chapter 8)
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Summary: Y/N enjoys the first two nights at Wembley before her grief makes a reappearance. Luckily she has people there to help her.
Previous Chapters: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven
CW: Mentions of past family death, panic attacks, nightmares
AN: I've had this chapter planned since the day of Wembley Night 2. I was driving home from work thinking that I wanted another angsty chapter with Mitch and Sarah comforting Y/N, but wasn't sure what the trigger would be. Then I saw a Tik Tok of a moment between Anne and Gemma being adorable at the concert and literally said "Yup, that'll do"
Also I randomly drop Brad in without introducing him so if you don't know about Brad he's Harry's personal trainer who has been at, like, every show for months now and seems to be personal security as well sometimes
Okay, on with the chapter!
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Monday is busy, starting with the early flight to London followed by a full day of prep for a week of shows at Wembley. Everyone’s exhausted by the time they get back to the hotel that night and you, Sarah, and Mitch climb into bed almost immediately. You talk quietly for a little while before falling asleep.
You all sleep in late the next morning, which is wonderful, but means that once you do get up you only have enough time to shower and eat quickly before you have to head over to the stadium.
It’s an incredibly exciting day, and the energy is even crazier than Slane had been. You meet Harry’s mother, Anne, and his sister, Gemma, who are both so lovely and welcoming to you.
Madi is the first opener for the evening, and she does a wonderful job. You hadn’t listened to much of her music before, but you’re mesmerized by her voice.
Once she’s done the band all goes backstage to get ready. You stay outside and watch Wet Leg’s set, and once Harry is on stage Brad comes to find you.
He invites you to hang with him for the night and you accept, walking through different parts of the crowd throughout the show. He’s seen it dozens of times by now and points out some small details you hadn’t noticed before.
It’s another fantastic concert experience and you are buzzing with energy when you meet Mitch and Sarah backstage. They quickly change and you all load up to head back to the hotel.
You’re finally able to engage in some post-show fun with Mitch and Sarah, and you all end the night completely satisfied.
The three of you spend time in the city the next morning, Sarah showing you some of her favorite places before you all grab a bite to eat and once again head to Wembley for Night 2. You explore the empty stadium, running through the seats and checking the view from all over.
Shortly before the gates open you head backstage and hang with the band. You watch Elin and Ariza’s set and can’t help but sing along to your favorite songs and smile at their wonderful stage presence.
You end up staying in an open area near the stage for the rest of the night and are joined by more people by the end of the show. It’s nearly over when you look to your side and see Harry’s whole family next to you. You watch as Anne wraps her arms around her daughter, pulling her in tight and gently running her hands up and down Gemma’s arms.
Tears immediately start to spring to your eyes. Grief is strange, and you thought you had a pretty good handle on it, but some days are worse than others and your emotions can be easily triggered.
Anniversaries are especially hard, and you’ve been so busy that you hadn’t even realized what the date was, but watching the mother daughter duo next to you reminded you that the next day would be the anniversary of the accident that killed your mother and sister.
You keep a hold on your emotions and walk backstage before the show ends. You just need a minute to yourself to breathe. By the time the concert is over and everyone else is flooding backstage, you’ve choked back your tears and put a smile on your face.
As soon as Mitch and Sarah see you, they know something is wrong, but don’t push you at that moment. They can tell that you don’t want to talk about whatever it is and respect that, but they keep a close eye, Sarah sticking next to you.
You end up between Mitch and Sarah in the last row of the van back to the hotel, and you look through social media to distract yourself during the ride. You’re scrolling through Tik Tok and see a video of the moment between Anne and Gemma that originally set you off, and you can’t believe how quickly it was posted and made its way onto your for you page.
You stare at the muted video, not realizing you’re watching it on a loop, as you’re lost in the thoughts of your family. Mitch and Sarah glance at your phone and see the video that’s playing. Even though you’re not in it, they know you were standing in that area and likely watched it happen in real time. They share a look over you and know they’re on the same page, that your mood definitely has something to do with you watching this interaction.
Once back at the hotel, you quickly get changed and burrow into bed. Mitch and Sarah, still in their outfits from the day, sit next to you. They’re quiet for a few minutes, but soon Sarah slowly pulls the covers off your face.
“What’s wrong love?” she asks, hoping you’ll let them in. You just stare at her for a bit before sitting up and taking a deep breath, deciding to tell them everything. You drop your eyes to look at where your fingers are picking at the sheets, and quietly say, “Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day my mom and sister died. And then Harry’s whole family was there supporting him and like, I’ll never have that. No matter what I accomplish, I won’t have my parents there. And Anne was so sweet with Gemma, and I remember moments like that with my mom and I’ll never have that with her again and I just, I miss them all so much-” Your words are cut off when the tears you’ve been holding back finally start to fall.
Mitch pulls you onto his lap, tucking you close to him and rocking you back and forth. Sarah’s hands are rubbing your back. They’re both quiet, not sure what to say to help you in that moment.
You start to think back to that day, the phone call from the police telling you what happened, your best friend driving you back home while you call and break the news to your aunts and uncles and family friends. You’re so lost in these memories that you don’t hear the knock on the hotel room door or notice the moment Sarah gets up to see who it is.
Mitch continues to comfort and hold you as Sarah cracks the door open.
“Hey, Harry,” she says quietly through the small opening. “What’s up?”
“Mitch borrowed my phone charger earlier and I can’t find my backup. Any chance you could grab it for me?”
“Yea of course, just give me a second.” Sarah walks back in and grabs Mitch’s bag, digging through and quickly finding the charger.
She walks back and reopens the door, handing it over. She wants to get back to you but takes a moment to politely say good night to Harry. In that time, you notice she’s missing, and start to panic. You’ve been so absorbed thinking about losing the people you care about most, that when you realize Sarah isn’t next to you your brain starts to think the worst.
You begin to say her name so quietly that Mitch can’t make out what you’re saying at first. Your cries of her name get louder, and you break free from Mitch’s hold, looking around the room for her in a blind panic. The layout of the room means that the door isn’t visible from the bed, and when you can’t immediately see her, your heart rate increases, and your panic starts to grow.
Sarah hears your shouts and closes the door in Harry’s face to run back to you. He’s left in the hallway, confused and concerned, but he understands that whatever is going on is a private moment and heads back to his room, hoping that you’re okay.
As soon as you see Sarah you run to her, launching yourself into her arms and wrapping your limbs around her. She stands there holding you, swaying side to side.
“I thought you were gone,” you cry.
“I’m here, baby, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” she says.
“You can’t know that! Bad things happen. All the time. And people die. I can’t- I can’t do that again. You can’t die!” Mitch moves to wrap his arms tight around you and Sarah and they feel their hearts breaking at your pain.
“You’re right,” Mitch says quietly. “We can’t promise that nothing will happen. But we’ll always do everything we can to keep safe, and healthy, and be by your side as long as possible.”
You lift up your head and look at him, eyes swimming with more tears, and you reach out your arms to him. Sarah passes you over to Mitch and you once again wrap your legs and arms around him so he can hold you close. He begins to sway as Sarah had been, hoping the gentle motion would help to soothe you as it would a little one. After a few minutes of this movement mixed with quiet reassurances you finally start to calm down a little. You’re still upset but you’re no longer panicking.
Sarah brings over tissues and wipes away your tears and snot, her gentle touches so full of care and compassion that you almost begin to cry again. When that doesn’t happen you figure you’ve dried yourself out and all that’s left are tiny sniffles.
Mitch continues rocking you, singing softly, and your eyes grow heavy. Eventually you fall asleep, and he transfers you to the bed. He continues to hold you, only letting go once Sarah has finished changing and lays on your other side, immediately pulling you close to her. Mitch rushes through getting ready and quickly lays back down after checking the door is locked and flipping the lights off.
It's unfortunately a restless night, and you find yourself woken by nightmares more than once. The first is one you’ve had numerous times in the past, where you watch the accident that killed your mom and sister. It’s not a real memory, since you obviously weren’t there, but between the medical reports and everything you learned during the trial of the driver that killed them, you had pieced together enough of what happened to build a terrifying mental picture of the event.
You have two more bad dreams that you can’t quite follow. Nothing makes sense but they’re somehow ominous and leave you with a sense of dread.
Shortly before 9 A.M. you have another nightmare, this one as clear as the first. It’s almost exactly the same as the first, but instead of your mother and sister in the car, it’s Mitch and Sarah. You again wake up completely paralyzed, never one to move around or make noise in your sleep, even during terrible dreams. You’ve managed not to wake the other two up so far, and you’re happy that you haven’t disturbed their sleep, but this time you need to.
Even though they’re both next to you in bed and you can see them breathing, you need to make sure they’re okay. You’re trying to hold back another impending panic attack, but you know you won’t be able to unless Mitch and Sarah reassure you that you’re all safe.
You lay a hand on each of their arms, gently shaking them. You try to say their names, but your breaths are already coming in gasps, and you can’t get the words out. It only takes a few seconds for them to wake up and immediately be on alert, trying to figure out what happened.
“Love, what is it, can you talk to me?” Sarah asks. You shake your head no, still not able to speak.
“Okay, that’s okay, let’s just breathe, alright? Here,” she lifts your hand and places it on her chest. “Just follow my breaths, okay?” You try to do so. It takes some time, but finally you calm down. You slump against her, almost more exhausted now than when you went to sleep the night before.
Sarah continues to hold you, singing quietly as she had noticed Mitch’s singing the previous night had helped you. You suddenly say, “It was a nightmare.”
“What was that baby?” she asks, as you had been mumbling into you shoulder.
You lift up your head and meet her eyes and say more clearly, “I had a nightmare. Actually, I had a few last night. I have a recurring one about the accident but this time it was you guys who were killed. It was so vivid; I feel like I lost you both even though you’re right here with me.”
“We are here, love. We’re together, and we’re safe.”
“We’re safe. You’re both safe, and here with me,” you repeat, hoping the message gets through to your brain.
“Exactly. We’re in bed, in a hotel, in London,” Mitch adds, letting you hear his voice and helping to ground you to your current reality, not the reality of your nightmare.
You nod to show you understand, that you know where you are. You're much calmer now and you all lapse into a comfortable silence. After awhile your stomach starts to growl.
“I’m going to run downstairs and grab some breakfast to bring back here, is that ok with everyone?” Mitch asks. You nod, understanding that he’s really asking if you’ll be alright if he leaves the room or if you’ll panic again. You know you’ll be fine now. You’re feeling more centered than you have in the past 12 hours, all due to the ways they’ve found to comfort you and remind you of what’s real and what isn’t.
He leaves and you decide to take a shower. Sarah sits in the bathroom, telling you stories about growing up in England. Even though you feel better now, you’re still grateful for her company. Focusing on her voice means your mind doesn’t have a chance to wander to darker thoughts.
Meanwhile Mitch is in the lobby where he bumps into Harry. After greeting each other Harry can’t hold back any longer and asks, “Is Y/N okay? She seemed really upset last night when I came to grab my charger.”
Mitch takes a deep breath, then takes a sip of his coffee, buying time to decide how much to share. “She’s just been through a lot. She’s lost a lot of people and sometimes the grief hits her.” He figures that’s a safe answer, explaining enough without giving too many personal details.
Harry nods and then says, “I know you and Sarah have to rehearse this afternoon for tomorrow's show, I could keep Y/N company if she wants.”
“I’ll ask her, not sure what she’ll be up for today.”
“Yea, of course, whatever she wants is fine with me.”
“Thanks man. I’ll talk to her and let you know.”
“Okay, sounds good. I’ll see you later then.” With that Harry puts on his headphones and heads out for a run, and Mitch loads up a tray with food to bring back to his girls.
You’ve finished showering by the time Mitch gets back and the three of you dig into your breakfast.
“So, I saw Harry while I was down there.”
“Oh?” Sarah asks. “What was he up to?”
“Getting ready to go for a run I guess. He was asking about Y/N. I didn’t realize it was him at the door last night.”
“Yea he stopped by for a second-” Sarah cuts herself off. “Oh my gosh, I totally slammed the door in his face. I didn’t even realize I did that, I just needed to get back to Y/N.”
“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think he’s upset about that. He was just concerned about Y/N.”
“What did you tell him?” You ask. You can’t imagine the scene he witnessed last night. You don’t exactly remember everything, but you know you were crying and panicking so it must have been a lot to see.
“I just mentioned that you’d lost people in the past and the grief hit you last night. I hope that’s okay.”
“Yea, that’s fine, I don’t mind him knowing.”
“He also invited you to hang out with him today while Sarah and I are rehearsing. I wasn’t sure what you’d be up for, so I said we’d get back to him. If you want to come with us or stay here that’s fine too.”
“No, I think a distraction is probably best for me today. Hanging out with Harry could be fun.”
“Okay, I’ll let him know.”
The rest of the morning passes with lighter conversation, and by early afternoon you’re all heading out. After making sure you’re set with Harry, Mitch and Sarah head out.
It’s awkward for a moment, as you haven’t spent any one-on-one time with Harry before, and you’re somewhat relieved when Brad walks over and you realize he’ll be joining you two as security.
Harry leads you to some quieter areas of the city, where he somehow goes unnoticed. You’re fascinated by everything he shows you and love getting to learn the history. By mid-afternoon everyone is starting to feel a bit hungry, so you grab a bite to eat and go to a nearby park. You and Harry sit beneath one of the trees while Brad goes to a bench nearby. He’s close enough to keep an eye on everything but far enough to not hear any conversation.
“So uhm, Mitch kind of told me what’s going on, but I just wanted to ask, are you alright? You just- you seemed really upset last night.”
“Yea honestly last night was a bit rough. But I’m okay. I think he kept his explanation pretty vague right?”
“Just that you’d lost some people.”
“That’s kind of an understatement. Two of my grandparents passed away when I was young. Then my dad died when I was in high school, my mom and my sister were killed in an accident when I was in college, and my other grandparents died a bit after that. And today is the anniversary of my mom and sister dying so it kind of set me off.”
You’re both silent for a moment before you say, “Sorry, that was kind of a lot. Sometimes it’s just easier to throw all the information out there at once.”
“No, don’t apologize I’m just. Y/N, I had no idea. I’m so sorry you went through all of that.”
“Things kind of sucked for a while. Years really. But honestly, I’m doing much better now. I have Mitch and Sarah, and I’m close with the family I nanny for. Some days are just harder than others. Sometimes a lot harder.”
“You’ve got me now too, alright? Anything you need, I’m here for you.”
You smile at him, quietly thanking him before you both turn back to your food. It’s a beautiful afternoon and though your day started off pretty awful, the people around you had turned it around completely.
If you had been home, you probably would’ve been wallowing, unable to get out of bed. That’s how these days normally went. But instead, you’re walking through the quiet outskirts of London with Harry Styles, smiling, and sharing happy stories.
After a couple more stops you make your way back to the hotel. Harry walks you to the room and you find that Mitch and Sarah had gotten back shortly before you.
They invite Harry in and the four of you hang out for a while. You order food in and watch a couple of movies. It was easy to tell that everyone was pretty drained and just wanted to relax.
At one point the movie becomes background noise after you convinced everyone to share old tour stories. You’re especially interested in Live on Tour since you hadn’t been able to go to any of those shows.
They get lost in the memories, excitedly talking over each other every time they remember something else that had happened. Everyone has made themselves very comfortable at this point, Mitch and Harry on the couch while you and Sarah are on the bed. As you listen to the stories you subconsciously shift closer to her a little at a time until you’re completely resting against her.
Your previous sleepless night catches up to you, and you find it hard to keep your eyes open. Sarah notices and quietly asks, “Would you like us to wrap up here so you can sleep?”
 “No,” you reply. “I like hearing everyone. It’s comforting. I know I’m not alone.”
“Okay, love.” She holds you close, running her fingers soothingly through your hair, and you fall asleep listening to the gentle conversation around you.
It’s not much later that Harry decides to head back to his room for the night. While he’s getting ready for bed he reflects on the day. He thought that spending more time with you would answer the questions he had about your relationship with Mitch and Sarah, but he’s only more lost. He decides that if there’s something going on then the group will share when they’re ready.
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AN: Thanks you so much for reading! If you have any thoughts (good, bad, you found a typo) let me know!
Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @theekyliepage @numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry @ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess @houseofdilfs @shaquille-0atmeal-1 @kissitnhekitchen
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sylvies-chen · 11 months
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okay I’ve refrained from posting my thoughts on the ted lasso finale until now in the interest of making sure they’re expressed properly so that people understand how correct my opinions actually are. but I’m here and I’m queer and LET’S DO IT FOLKS:
TED LASSO FINALE THOUGHTS
THE GOOD:
Nate!! Nate was a timid, sweet note in this episode. It was such a gentle little reintegration of his character back into the team and seeing him get a secure happy ending after all that time of insecurity was the part of the episode that provided the MOST payoff. Seeing Nick Mohammed’s post about Nate and his family life and understanding how much he put into that character was so beautiful to see too. I adore actors who very publicly (and in a nerdy way) love their craft!
His conversation with Ted also made me cry like I have never cried before.
COLIN KISSED HIS FELLA AFTER A WIN!! Ugh such a beautiful payoff and full circle moment for him, I was truly squealing with joy <3
The team’s rendition of So Long, Farewell had me GIGGLINGGG oh my god, I’m a die hard Sound of Music fan so I loved it! I would have maybe liked a little more emotion from Ted, I felt like his reaction was kind of… meh? meek? but other than that the song itself was FANTASTIC.
Obviously I love that they won the game, duh
They also had a lot of really amazing and thoughtful callbacks in this episode, like Keeley’s parallel to her entrance in the pilot was great, Ted’s bbq sauce mantra, Nate leaping into Ted’s arms, the ussie guy, the winning play being the play from season 1. All of those little moments showed a strong attention to detail I truly loved.
I love that Rupert made HIMSELF unlikeable in the end. Rebecca didn’t need to ruin his life; she stopped caring and soon saw he was doing a perfectly fine job of doing it himself. Karma truly is Rebecca Welton’s boyfriend!! Or is it?
Jake the motherfucking client seducer over here turning out to be a total dud like yesss!! I don’t want Ted and Michele back together by any means but fuck that guy lol, glad to see she and Henry were getting sick of him
BELIEVE. 😭
Which leads me to…
THE BAD:
I know you all know I ship Tedbecca, but this is truly not coming from a shipper standpoint when I say that that first scene of them was absolute BAIT. It was pretty disappointing because I know Ted Lasso’s been prone to red herrings and fakeouts every now and then but I didn’t take it as a show that would truly bait their fans with something like that??
I don’t care if I’m biased, I don’t care if the writers were trying to be avant-garde with their ending for rebecca, I’ll say what I’m about to say a million times: writing off 1 of your 2 most main characters into a happy ending with a man whose name the audience doesn’t even know is literally never a good writing decision. I think this should be obvious.
I have no hate to Boat Guy, Rebecca’s whole thing with him was basically the plot of Before Sunrise + Before Sunset (all hail Richard Lanklater) if someone watched those movies and then tried condensing them into fifteen accumulated minutes of television
Keeley, Roy, Jamie… they did you three so fucking dirty my babes. Keeley you especially. I’m beyond disappointed, bordering on genuinely hurt, by how much they screwed up Keeley and all of her adjacent storylines this season.
I loved RoyKeeley so much in seasons 1 and 2, they had such a sweetness and a magic to them. There were so many elements like that to season 1 and 2 that I feel the writers gave up on in the name of growth or… honestly, at this point, I don’t know why they did this. Roy was a little insecure in seasons 1 and 2, but I never felt like he was needy. It felt so cruel to have shown us RoyKeeley in all of these moments of such stability, such healthiness, and such genuine love for so long and then rip it away for some version of Roy Kent that felt hollow, twisted, and who just Did Not Get It. It makes me so sad.
It makes me sad for Jamie too. Him falling for Keeley again was like the last thing I needed to see from his character. There’s so much else they could have done with him, and instead they took that beautiful moment of him being accountable and respectful with Keeley and the tape, and they turned it into something ugly: they had him weaponize it as a bargaining chip against Roy.
I don’t understand why they thought having our favs engaged in this very sexist outdated convo with such possessive language in the name of comedy was a good idea. I get it was poking fun at them but it was the kind of fun that shouldn’t have to be poked at by now. They’re not these men, I don’t recognize this version of them. It’s such a regression.
speaking of weird and uncomfortable shit being played off for laughs… beard and jane got married! ted wasn’t even there! she shredded his passport to keep him in captivity! how creepy! (see the joke is that they’re crazy and do toxic things to each other. you’re supposed to laugh.)
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special-mooon · 8 months
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Random TWST hcs I have (Part 2 here)
(I need to write these down somewhere so enjoy)
(En español aquí)
One time Cater was working on a potion in class and dropped his phone down the cauldron, it completely melted away. Safe to say he never brings his phone to that class ever again. (Trey baked him goods to make him feel better about losing the phone)
Deuce’s mom got pregnant when she was young and still in Highschool. She became a single mother and had to drop out in order to support him. Deuce didn’t find out about this till way later in middle school and it became the main reason why he wants to become a better student.
He’s a mamas boy what can I say
Also in my mind Deuce is Mexican ☝️ (its true he was the chambelán at my cousins quince)
Ruggie is crazy good with kids, he basically became the neighborhoods permanent older brother.
The horror movies in twisted wonderland are actually a lot more tame than in the real world.
One time Yuu watched a scary movie with the 1st years and everyone was shitting their pants while Yuu just stood there like “🧍this is goosebumps level horror”
Yuu explained the plot to Hereditary once as an example of what type of horror movies their world had. The 1st years never want to watch a movie from their world. Like ever.
Also medical treatments in TWST are a lot nicer and painless. They use magic for a lot of injuries. Got a deep cut? Magic! You’re sick with some virus? Magic! Magic cures all! It even works on ppl who can’t use magic
Oh but it doesn’t work on Yuu since they’re from a different world
One time Yuu got a cut pretty deep and needed stitches
Having to explain what stitches were to the professors was a strange experience. The students thought it was some form of torture method.
“So you just get sewed up like some ripped teddy bear?!
Wait until you explain to them what Shots are. Or how getting blood samples work in your world.
Oh but the dentist treatment is fairly the same in both worlds.
No one in heartslabyul can handle spicy foods (except for Deuce)
While at Scarabia spicy food is like the main meal and everyone LOVES it.
One time Kalim invited Riddle, Trey, and Cater to come eat dinner at his dorm. Let’s just say some things happened and Jamil now learns to tame down the spice whenever anyone from Heartslabyul comes over.
Cater has photos of Trey and Riddle from that day. He was threaten to never share it with anyone. (He looks at them sometimes to get a good laugh even tho he was also dying that day from the spice)
Yuu once made an Ice Cream cake for Malleus birthday. At first he was a bit disappointed that Yuu brought him a cake since he’s not a big fan of them, but was absolute flabbergasted when he bit into it. He now demands Yuu to teach him the recipe.
Sometimes the Leech twins will have full on fist fights in the Dorms lounge area. Not cuz they hate eachother or anything, that’s just how they are. Everyone at the dorm is so used to seeing them fight to the point where people start betting on which brother would win. Yes Azul was behind this.
Listen Rook would absolutely love the “Masochism Tango” song
Idia helped build an AC unit at Ramshackle Dorm only because Yuu kept staying over at his dorm when it would get hot outside.
There’s a story that floats around the school about Sams shop. Apparently a student years ago tried stealing something from the store and the student ended up turning into a frog, they completely disappeared after that. No one knows if the story’s true or not. Still no one dares stealing from his shop.
Kalim is surprisingly really good at Slide puzzles. He was able to solve a 6x6 puzzle in under a minute.
When Malleus was a child a frog wrapped its tongue around his horn and it freaked him out. He tried grabbing the frog but it was too slimy. Lilia ended up finding him curled up in a ball outside his backyard with a frog sitting on his head. Yeah he HATES frogs now.
Silver likes frogs tho he thinks they’re cute. Once when he was a kid he brought a frog into the house when Malleus was visiting. Malleus out of instinct SMACKED the frog straight into the wall.
Silver didn’t talk to Malleus for like a week straight after that. (Sebek was not so pleased about it)
The only person higher than Malleus in Sebeks mind is his mother. He’s such a mamas boy and want’s to become strong enough to not only protect Malleus but also to protect her.
Listen Sebeks dad is literally just some guy. Imagine Allen from Barbie. He’s still a great dad and husband tho
That’s it for now I’ll probably make another post when my twst brain rot returns 🫡🫡🫡
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mofffun · 3 months
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King-Ohger Character Song memo
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link to streaming
Gira - Kind King
oooh rock! something Taisei himself likes? (Masashi mentioned they quickly became friends because they have football and rock bands in common)
the opening electric tunes is a consistent Dug motif
His voice is SO cute and the mismatch with the instrumetns XD
I like 'i gotta we gotta' part. catchy kinda slogan-y like self pep talk
Gira will stand up to unjustice and do it himself, but with the bonds with his friends too 😭😭
the longer I listen to it the less it sounds like Taisei?? and closer to sports anime freshman protag. I look forward to listening its live version.
Overall the song is very motivating and cheerful, let's just say it does sound like something Gira could write himself.
there's no beating INFERNO, but the lyrics is direct and cute, very fitting for Gira's character.
You get the chara song is how the character wants to express themselves and the image song is who they are from an outside perspective.
Yanma - Teppen Online
hmmm I'm surprised by the chorus? (+ve)
musically I don't find much surprise with this one but I like the chorus. Try & Fight and I'm still alive were just too impactful.
no wait it sounds like the most we learn about Prez?
In the lyrics he said, "some things don't need to be said (out loud)" and yeah, he's a bit shy in expressing affection huh? Or say, he believes in action more than words and he's the traditional manly type that's like, "hing1 dai6, sum ziu3 lah"
Himeno - Golden Garden
the "I wish" song in musicals
That's Erica's voice???
'K I can see the second verse as Hime singing to Rita.
ah no bridge (I think none of them have bridge? :(
A very beautiful song. Gives me a 2000s shojo amime ED vibe.
Rita - Moffun's Song
Yeah no, I don't like Rita's stuck being a Moffun fan in their character song. Can't say I'm more impressed by the full version as a Yuzuki fan either
The short version impressed me by showing Yuzuki's range in just under a minute. The high note is moved to the very end of the song from verse 2
Some rationalize it as Rita themself choosing to use this version to represent themself and I can see the reasoning behind Rita's caring interior should've be apparent by now and you have the contrast with Ignorantia but UGH I want the Chief Justice actually singing about their struggle and duty and YOU KNOW MAYBE TOUCH ON THEIR CONNECTION WITH GOKKAN????? IN HIRAKAWA'S LOW IKEMEN VOICE???
On the other hand did we ever get an explanation of why Rita likes Moffun in the first place? We know it's not some tragic backstory and honestly, they could've like it simply because it's cute. And yes, I can infer why someone like Rita would like something like Moffun but hnnnnn it's not canon
but another contradiction I'm facing is actually I was glad to see an adult character who's not afraid of showing their otaku passionate side, but Rita's not fully committed to that...
Kaguragi - 仰天珍道中
hohoho I so look forward to Kaku-san's singing.
oh my god that's really good???
i can see him on a showa TV show in a white suit
this is gonna be a brainworm
it's much faster than I expected too.
there's lore in this lyrics… (looks up japanese dictionary)
Jeramie - 線上のTrickster
Masashi's in the "singing voice close to speaking voice" group.
Jeramie, you're not beating the Noel allegations
has some early 2000s J-rock vibes I guess?
It's not a bad song ay any rate but again (like the perfume) doesn't feel very Jeramie to me?? Maybe I've been paying too little attention to him my interpretation deviation from official's for the second time?
(I like The Prophet better but maybe this will warm up to me)
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fairytale-poll · 6 months
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PRELIMINARY ROUND! MATCH 2 OUT OF 5 - BATTLE OF THE RODGERS & HAMMERSTEIN'S CINDERELLA ADAPTATIONS!
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Propaganda Under the Cut
Julie Andrews as Cinderella (1957 Movie):
((This movie is the Julie Andrew’s one.))
Lesley Ann Warrens as Cinderella (1965 Movie):
tbh I think that both other films for this version are superior to this one, but I want the full 128 bracket so I might as well submit this. Starring Lesley Ann Warren as Cinderella, it's a distinct remake of the Julie Andrews version (which was incredibly popular, but hadn't been filmed in color, thus the studio's decision to make a new one). It is admittedly more similar to the 1957 version than the 1997 version was, so if you don't want to accept it as its own story that's fine; but there *are* some differences in the script, songs, and acting choices for the characters. I haven't seen this version of the film since I was VERY young, so I can't speak on the quality or anything lol, but I remember that I really really liked it when I was five, before the 1997 version came out and consumed me lol. I had briefly considered submitting it earlier because it felt unfair to have Julie Andrews and Brandy Norwood both have a slot while poor Lesley Ann Warren was left out, but ultimately decided she probably wouldn't get very far. But now I'm reconsidering lol sooooo yeah. A third version of Rodger's and Hammerstein's Cinderella for your consideration XD
Brandy as Cinderella (1997 Movie):
Because she is so cute in this, I love her outfits before and after the transformation, and this movie is just such a good adaptation of Cinderella.
the 1997 cinderella movie is the best one ever to me like. you have whitney houston as the fairy godmother and brandy is so so so pretty and she's such an amazing cinderella. 10 minutes ago the best cinderella song of all time ever she sounded so good <3
does this movie even NEED propaganda?
Brandy Cinderella with Whitney Houston! Need I say more?
Brandy plays one of the best iterations of Cinderella actually.
I just think she's neat. Also she looked the best in the ball gown.
One of the most iconic Cinderellas of all time, Brandy brought tenderness, earnestness, and heartfelt poignancy that transformed the story and emphasized its humanity and themes of dreaming for the future. Her voice is celestial! The power of her performance is undeniable! As a lifelong Cinderella fan she was always one of my favorites.
A lot of children grew up watching this movie around the holidays.
This is my favorite version of Cinderella and Brandy absolutely KILLS IT as Cinderella!! Her voice is so sweet and beautiful. And her dress!! I love her peplum. ALSO HER BRAIDS MAKE A BUN AND ITS SO ADORABLE. just look up the soundtrack for this movie PLEASE.
Various Actresses as Cinderella in the 2015 Musical:
[No Propaganda Submitted]
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Butterflies
In honor of Channie’s 12 years worth of hard work and the amazing artist and human that he is, here is a little drabble (that ended up being not so little) for the rightfully acclaimed Mr. Steal Your Girl. hope you like it~
wc: 1.2k
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For the 2 chronically sleep deprived gremlins you and Chan were, it really hadn’t taken long for you to become each other’s human melatonin sources. Apart from the fact that no one could actually fix your sleep patterns given that you’d lost track of those long ago, the comfort that came along with the other’s presence was usually more than enough to knock you both out within 15 minutes, record time if you believed Changbin for that one time Chan hadn’t slept proper in 4 days and was snoring his exhaustion away after 10 minutes of cuddling you on the infamous leather couch. Which could explain your current situation, sitting atop your kitchen counter at god knows which hour, but it was certainly past midnight. You know better than to check the time, for it surely will stress you out to see the hours left till you eventually need to start getting ready for work, just hoping the night’s silence can calm you down enough for sleep to take over your body. Chan obviously hadn’t been home yet, he was working on the ‘butterflies’ demo after you had mentioned it in a not so deliberately placed comment about how you’d love to hear the full song. You’d definetly not been able to predict the outcome that was him spending the night till sunrise at the studio trying to finish the song or atleast a complete draft. Not checking the time had also meant for you to not see your phone, which was why you’d missed the text dear boyfriend had sent you half an hour ago, saying he'd be home in a bit.
The sound of the door keypad unlocking meant your boyfriend was finally home, exhausted out of his mind and looking forward to absolutely nothing other than dropping his stuff onto the couch and find you curled up in your bed, to dive under the covers and pull you flush against him to let sleep overtake his body too. What he hadn’t expected was to see you sitting on the kitchen counter, legs crossed as you sip on something from your mug of the cringy but awfully cute couple mug set you owned. He grabs himself a bottle of water from the fridge, unscrewing the cap as he wordlessly makes his way towards you, your legs detangling to hang off the countertop and make space for him to stand in between them, both of you silently sipping on your beverages till you finish yours and wrap your arms around his torso, probably looking like a lovesick puppy but you couldn’t really help it.
“Welcome home, Roo”
“Glad to be back princess, couldn’t sleep again hm?”
You silently nod against his shoulder, crossing your legs behind his, gesture enough to answer a question that had been rhetorical in the first place.
“Which tea was it? Lavender?” he asks as he pulls you closer to him by his gentle hold on your thighs, flush against him. You’d realized eventually that you could never physically be close enough to him, you could always be latched onto him like a koala and still want to be closer, to take in more of his vanilla scent and the faded fragrance of his cologne, just to bask in his existence on a whole.
Subconsciously enough you’d started nuzzling your nose against his neck, pulling him even closer with all your limbs, till his squeaky laugh had pulled you out of your little trance, as your arms loosen enough to let him breathe freely again.
“Could you tell I missed you today?” you look up at him, arms still lazily resting around him.
“Oh, I really couldn’t tell little one, I’m glad you told me. I thought you didn’t miss me at all love.” He spoke with all seriousness as he looked at you curling up against him again, eyes fond as he lets out another chuckle.
“Good. You should know your presence is extremely appreciated at all times” Chris swears he lives for the mumbling mess you become when its past 3 am and you finally get him to yourself because this, nothing in the world could beat this.
“Anyways, now that I presume you’re done talking like an executive, let’s get you to bed, shall we?” he’d already wrapped your legs around his body tight enough, waiting for your approval to take you up and away, when the whiny ‘no’ that escapes your mouth halts his actions.
“Why baby? What’s wrong?”
“thecounteriscoldanditfeelsreallynice”
“come again baby?” he’d clearly heard and understood you but would it really be him if he doesn’t tease you for your antics?
“You heard me I know” you mumbled against his chest again, shoving your face into it like one of those Felix posters he saw at the concert and smushed his face against his friend’s chest in a similar manner.
“Baby it is really late, you need to go sleep hm?”
“You don’t get to say that, you came home late too…”
“I don’t have to be up again for work in almost 3 hours now do I?”
“True. Fine, you win this time”
“Of course I do, now come on, let’s get this koala some sleep should we?” he finally lifts you off the counter, keeping you secure in his hold as all you find yourself capable of doing is nodding against him. He carries you to your bed, clearly showing signs of the tossing and turning he presumed to have happened earlier from the lack of sleep as he lays you down and tucks you in. Your eyes are barely open but you register the lack of warmth immediately, reaching out to make grabby hands as he strips himself of the minimal clothing he had on in the first place, muscle tee and basketball shorts. His eyes crinkle up again, voice serenading as ever, “let me change pretty, I promise I’ll be there in a minute yeah?”. Your hands slump down onto the duvet in defeat as you turn to face his side, patiently awaiting him as he finally slips under the covers. You presume your rightful position with your head against his naked chest, left leg sprawled against him as he hikes it up a little higher, arms wrapped around him as he justifies his title of your personal melatonin, sleep finding you almost immediately.
“I love you so much and you’re the best thing that happened to me and I love you, goodnight” Chan was now an expert when it came to comprehending your sleepy mumbles, and they all warmed his heart up in the best ways possible. He silently presses his cheek against the top of your head, dropping a few kisses against your crown as he feels you returning those with kisses against his chest in your sleepy state, and he suddenly can’t feel any of the day’s exhaustion anymore but only your tender love that surrounds him and wraps him up in a cocoon of warmth and safety. His adrenaline from working hadn’t really worn off yet, so he resorts to humming the melody he was working on earlier, noting it down in his head to show you the finished product later.
Baby you got me feeling butterflies..
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 a/n : CHAN PLEASE RELEASE THAT TRACK I BEG YOU I’M LITERALLY AHBDKNKKNKNKJNDDSKDKF
here’s the track for anyone wondering... 
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ninadove · 12 days
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hi hi again. been listening to warrior of the mind again - and i give this to you in a way to convince any one person to listen to any one song from the troy saga album. :)
use those persuasive skills to the test because i haven’t tried any of the other songs yet
Hi again Jay!!! 💚
First of all, you have excellent taste. Warrior of the Mind is a bop. In fact all of EPIC is a bop. But for tonight let’s stick to the Troy Saga, where the insanity began.
The Horse and the Infant 🐴
This musical opens IN THE LITERAL TROJAN HORSE. You don’t get more badass and in medias res than that. In only 1:33 minute, this song successfully establishes Odysseus’ key character traits: his terrifying intelligence is only matched by his undying love for his family. Then, in the remaining 2:20 minutes, it introduces us to the themes that drive the entirety of the story: the gods suck, and survival means getting your hands dirty.
Speaking of which…
Just a Man 😔
Possibly the most important song in the entire musical. At this point in the story, Odysseus is exhausted by the ravages of war, but still clings to his humanity for as long as he can, as desperately as he can. The very thing that makes him “just a man” is what will eventually turn him into a 🎶 MOOONSTEEERRR 🎶 : deep down, he would trade the world to see his son and wife.
Full Speed Ahead ⛵️
UNDERRATED. This song introduces us to Odysseus’ crew, namely his best friend Polites and his second-in-command Eurylochus, as well as the 600 men who will all die atrociously before the end of the story. And it just. Sounds so good. Argh.
Open Arms 🪷
Just 🥰 a chill song 🥰 nothing to see here 🥰 it’s not like this sweet summer child is going to die a painful death and haunt the narrative or anything 🥰 you can relax my friend 🥰
Warrior of the Mind 🦉
The one that got the most people into EPIC, I think, and for good reason. We love Athena, we love a bragging teenager, we love toxic friendships that will backfire later on in the story. Athena has an amazing arc of her own throughout EPIC, highlighting that even gods could stand to grow and better themselves.
And Jay. Jay. We haven’t even brushed Remember Them yet. We haven’t talked about Puppeteer and There Are Other Ways. We haven’t mentioned the upcoming Underworld Saga and its flagship song Monster. WE HAVEN’T TALKED ABOUT RUTHLESSNESS. WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT RUTHLESSNESS JAY
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alwaysvivid · 24 days
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𝐝 𝐮 𝐥 𝐜 𝐞 𝐭
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sweet and soothing in all aspects especially in regards to a voice. delightfully pleasant.
PLOT chan is beyond sweet, he’s everything sora has ever wanted and more. she can feel herself falling for him but that was never part of the plan.
CHARACTERS lee sora ˒ bang chan & im changkyun
﹙ mentions kelsey @inter-stellar-jyp.⠀﹚
WORD COUNT 3.7k
GENRE angst ft some smut
PLAYLIST s o r a.
﹙ send in songs that remind you of sora.⠀﹚
a/n i haven’t written in literally 2+ years & it’s unedited so please PLEASE be nice to me. i’m proud to finally be writing again and trust there’s many more wips to come !
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[ sept. ‘19 ]
sora needed a distraction and she needed it fast.
she hadn’t realised how far she had fallen until it was too late, until she found herself waking up in chans arms for the 9th consecutive morning. She had lived in chan’s dorm - and skin- for over a week , and yet she still wanted more. she could stay with him forever.
both vivid and stray kids were on vacation leaving chans dorm empty and sora available to keep him company. the vacant dorm allowed them to play house the full 2 weeks, ignoring the fact that they had barely even admitted having anything more than a sexual attraction to each other. within those walls they were soulmates who couldn’t be separated for even a second, she loved him and he loved her and they lived happily ever after.
they get to play pretend.
when it came to sora she had 1 golden rule that she made sure she never broke no matter what and that was don’t stay the night. waking up together was too intimate , that was how it started to get complicated. the domestic cuddles and sweet performing kisses always warped the boundaries of their relationship and sora did not have the energy for any of that. she just needed passion and attention then to be walked to the door and never spoken to until the next time she needed a warm body at night. she had become an expert in the game , and that was because she never broke her number 1 rule. but yet there she was day after day draped in one of chans oversized hoodies, hugging his back as he made her scrambled eggs just the way she liked them.
there werent words that could accurately explain how she felt about chan, the closest word she equated it to was obsessed, she was absolutely obsessed with every little detail about him. on the rare mornings that she woke up before him she found herself watching as the sun streamed through the miniscule gap between his curtains. she’d lie cramped into his bunk bed staring at him. she would watch the way his lashes fluttered ever so slightly against his soft pink cheeks. she should be embarrassed by how long she spent just looking at him, but to her own concern she did not care. she attempted to snuggle even closer to him as she connected every freckle on his face. his freckles were all faint and easily missed but sora noticed them early on. she would count every single one of his moles, they were only visible when she was this close to him. he had 7 scattered across his face. chan was a breath taking type of beauty, you don’t even realise you hadn’t taken a breath in 5 minutes until you’re passed out conveniently in his arms.
every time she’d sense him stirring beside her she’d act as if she had been asleep just like him, only to be ‘“woken up” by chans soft lips on her forehead and his rasp filled whisper of “good morning.”
every morning and every night she’d wait in anticipation for the gentle touches that always grew rougher , the sweet kisses that escalated until they were desperate and deep. she was obsessed with the way he’d look at her just before she came , like she was his absolute favourite thing to ever exist. her brain would fog as she begged for a kiss , his hands tightly gripping at the flesh of her thighs as he pulled her impossibly closer. He always whispered the prettiest words in that moment. sora sometimes felt like he kissed her like he actually was in love with her , like he was just as obsessed as she was
when people spoke about butterflies, sora never imagined them to be so overwhelming and nauseating. yet ,her heart never let her get up and leave thus stopping the weird stomach flutters. it all felt so real, she almost believed it too be real, almost. sora liked to believe she wasn’t delusional enough to think they actually were anything more than fuck buddies. but there she was lying awake almost every night hoping one day he’d roll over and say the words that scared her the most.
and that was delusional.
sora needed to feel grounded again, she had been floating for far too long she was losing herself. she had to get him off her mind and out of her system. she needed a distraction or maybe a reality check , whichever came first. bottom line was whatever she needed, she needed it immediately before her delusions lead to heartbreak and betrayal once again. which is all to explain how she found herself pressed against the door of a random club bathroom ,changkyun thrusting into her with the birthday dress he’d bought bunched at her waist.
the details of everything that lead to the current events hadnt yet registered in her brain. Somewhere between her tequila shots and martinis she found kelsey and asked for the tiny pill she knew she always had. honestly the details were lost in her brain but at least she wasn’t counting the moles on chan’s face.
“missed this. missed you.” changkyuns words came out choppy and muffled, his rambles almost incoherent due to his head being buried deep in her neck.his lips barely lifted from her skin as he spoke.but his words felt empty, he didn’t mean it and he didn’t bother trying to act like he did. at least chan felt genuine when he’d say the same thing , whether he actually was was a whole different story.
the bass boomed so loud that sora felt it against her back, the white wood doing very little to mute the music blasting on the other side nor was it any good muffling the obnoxious sound of skin slapping together. if anyone was within ear shot they knew exactly what was going on in the tiny-dirty- bathroom. it also didn’t help that changkyun decided to be particularly loud that day.
“you miss me too baby?” he lifted his head to make eye contact, his eyes dark and hooded. sora lifted a hand to brush the hairs sticking to his forehead to get a better look at him. he looked as good as she remembered. same sharp features she used to drool over, his stare just as hypnotizing as the last time, his dick filling her just the way it always did. there was a reason changkyun had sora under a spell for years, he was addictive.
sora nodded her head yes as her thumb dragged along his bottom lip pulling it down ever so slightly. changkyun had truthfully barely crossed her mind for the past 2 months but she agreed, hoping it would boost his ego and have him finish faster. changkyun chuckled as he nosed the strap of her dress until it fell off her shoulder, giving him just enough room to properly sink his teeth into her clavicle. “say it.” he demanded.
“missed you too.”
some twisted part of sora really did miss him. there really was something so familiar about the whole experience: the hollow feeling in her chest that she’d self medicate with alcohol and fickle relationships, the way every moment melted into each other as the bass of the speakers had her ears ringing, the way that changkyun looked at her and how their bodies moved together on the dance floor and the rushed kisses and movements against any surface they could find. even the emptiness of his words left some odd nostalgia in her.
she missed the way he would push her into the mattress till she felt like she disappeared, the shot of dopamine she’d get when he’d finally text her after disappearing for almost a month. changkyun kept her on her toes, had her wanting more every time. sora was never bored when it came to him, she never knew what to expect. the never ending excitement was also their downfall, the instability becoming all she knew.
sora wasn't stupid, she knew changkyun wasn’t good for her no matter how deeply in denial she was. she was aware it wasn't healthy to always leave his place feeling like a shell of herself, like it a piece of her was left behind . it left that ache in her chest that she grew accustomed to. but that was exactly what she needed, to be consumed by his meaningless touches, and let herself sink into the door. maybe then she’d wake up from the deluded dream she was living in with chan.
changkyun kissed up sora’s neck, pausing to bite into the flesh just under her jaw. chan usually sucked that spot. she couldn’t help but whimper ,slowly refocusing on the man in front of her. the tips of her long acrylic nails dug into his broad shoulders - chan was broader. she whimpered loudly as he started to suck on her neck harshly, definitely trying to leave a mark. he wanted everyone - chan - to know.
the words that changkyun whispered against the shell of soras ear didn’t register but she reacted by arching her back nonetheless. she used to fiend for moments where changkyun paid her this much attention but now all she could do was compare him. sora tried her hardest but she couldnt push away the sound of chans voice calling her pretty. she felt the ghost of his finger raking through her hair in the morning. she could feel him kissing her like he loved her. sora felt her eyes fill with tears as she forced them shut. trying to make the image of chan disappear. how did she let it get this far? why did she let anyone have this much of an effect on her. she hated it. she hated him and his stupid sweetness.
changkyun sped up at the sight of sora’s teary eyes , assuming it was his doing.
“feel that good baby ?”
sora didn’t reply just lulled her head back as the tears rolled down her cheeks taking her liner with it. it always smudged , it never lasted until the end of the evening.
she let out a small hum to appease him and it appeared to be exactly what he wanted.
“that’s right, better than that stupid boyfriend of yours?” he grumbled as he grabbed her jaw , his grip forcing her to face him. sora opened her eyes staring directly into his.
“i don’t have a boyfriend.”
her sentence came out short, her lack of breath abd already emotional state had her on edge. changkyun chuckled as his thumb pulled at her bottom lip jus as she had done earlier smudging her already messy lipstick. he pushed his thumb into her mouth slowly. “thought i lost you for a moment but you’re still mine. all mine.”
sora distracted him by sucking on his finger just as she’d always done. his eyes focused on her mouth as his thrusts sped up. she hated when changkyun said she was his. he’d go on and on about her being his but he was never hers. he made sure she knew that.
“i’ve never seen the point in exclusivity, no one keeps to it. someone always ends up lying to the other and cheating. just resentment and hatred everytime. why deal with all the rules and complications of relationships when you could just get what you want and leave.” the words once repeated to sora years ago rung loud in her ears as she tried willing away the tears.
changkyuns grip on her waist grew tighter as the strength that kept her up against the wall faltered slightly. “fuck, can i cum inside?”
“no.” she spoke quickly much to changkyuns surprise, she always let him cum inside.
sora tapped on his arm signaling for him to let her down. changkyuns face remained puzzled as he lowered her to her feet, the jelly state of her legs was the last thing on her mind. sora fell to her knees in the least elegant way possible, a bruise was sure to blossom in the morning. she tucked her hair behind her multi-pierced ear before opening her mouth slightly for changkyun to cum in. with a loud huff he tugged his fist up and down his shaft as he placed the salty tip on her tongue. his orgasm came in hot white spurts accompanied with changkyuns grunts. sora was thankful only a little bit got on her cheek, she really wasn’t in the mood for a full facial.
changkyun let out a soft sigh as he attempted to level his breathing. he watched as she crawled on the floor towards to roll of toilet paper, taking a bit and wiping at the sides of her mouth in an attempt to look presentable again. changkyun took note that she used to lick it up and open her mouth to prove she swallowed it all.
the tiny bathroom fell silent in a way that wasn't comfortable, it was agonizing. the sound of changkyuns zipper was all that could be heard in the small confines on the room. loud knocks filled the room as both their heads snon the door.
“just a minute.” sora yelled , surprised her voice wasn’t as horse as she thought it would be. she took a deep breath using one hand on the cool tiles of the wall and the other on the lid of the toilet for leverage to lift her up to her feet. despite being slightly unstable she managed to get up and look at herself in the grimey mirror.
sora looked at her reflection for far too long , she could feel changkyun staring at her in confusion. she couldn’t look away , the girl in front of her felt almost foreign. she hadn’t felt or looked like this in months and she didn’t like it yet she felt she deserved it. this is what girls like sora do. they don’t play house with sweet boys. they get get fucked in disgusting club bathrooms.
sora never felt like anything. she was just hollow and destructive. everything she touched felt like it was destined to fall apart.everytime anything felt good it would end leaving sora even more empty than she was before. a fun time until they get bored and move on to the next one. the constant rotation taking a piece of her until she had nothing left. the girl in the reflection looked hollow even with tears stains she looked devoid of emotion, devoid of a heart.
chan was good and kind and sora didn’t deserve all the good he had in him. she would ruin him just like she ruined everything else in her life. she didn’t want to ruin him but she couldn’t imagine leaving him. the come down was always more intense than the high and sora was feeling it. it was like withdrawals but from a person. she couldn’t breathe. fucking changkyun didn’t even work. she couldn’t escape him, her old ways weren’t working. there was no escaping anymore she was too deep in and her heart was doomed.
the knocks against the door were louder the second time pulling sora out of her haze. with a huff she swung the door open not even warning changkyun as she stood staring blankly, “oh my fucking god, here have the bathroom! fuck!” she pushed past the girl as they exchanged looks. sora could tell that she said something back but she didn’t care, she needed to get out of there. changkyun followed behind her as she walked off. fixing his hair as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder forcing her to stop in her tracks.
“we off to my place then?” sora kept walking as she felt his words like a weight on her chest. she couldn’t do it.
nothing. sora felt, heard, smelt and had nothing. the loud beating of her heart was the only thing reassuring her that she was, in fact, alive. she didn’t feel alive, she hadn’t for a long time.
taking deep breaths in through her nose sora tried to shut her brain up. she was spiraling she could feel it, but no matter what exercise she did that her new psychiatrist had taught her she couldn’t shut up her brain. her thoughts growing louder as her breathing became more labored.
“wait sora-“
before she even processed anything sora was walking. there were indistinct voices as she moved. it was as if they were screaming after her trying to get her to stop as she exited the club. she couldn’t tell who it was specifically,everything was blurred. she didn’t listen to them all she cared about was that she had to get out. the smoke filled room was suffocating her.
sora blinked slowly to adjust her eyes from the red neon lights to the dim street lamps along the road as she walked down it. she barely knew where she was going or what she was planning to do when she got there but she was moving and there was no stopping her. only after walking for some time did sora register that she didn’t have shoes on. they were definitely left in the bathroom but she didn’t care, at least she was out.
sora’s feet moved on their own accord,her mind still foggy. she couldn’t process where she was but it was familiar enough that even her overwhelmed and high mind was directing her somewhere.
her breath was still shaky and uneven as she stared at the same door she had walked out of just hours before. with whatever energy she had left she lifted her hand to hit her knuckles against the wood.
“sora?” the voice was soft yet strong. chan. she walked back to his dorm. she knew she hadn’t gone far when she left for the club. sora felt so embarrassed her stomach turned, why did she study the route from the club? she paid so much attention that even as fucked up as she was she still managed to somehow get herself back to the person she was running away from.
she didn’t reply, she couldn’t. his face was painted with concern yet he looked just as beautiful as she remembered. her beautiful boy. “come on let’s get you back inside where it’s warm and dry,” he spoke softly and slowly, not wanting to cause anymore damage than what was already done.
sora hadn’t even realized that it had been raining. her mind was too busy to notice that her body was soaking wet. she must’ve looked a mess , the tear stained look she had early barely compared to the state she was in now.
she tried to focus on his words and process what he was saying but the sound of her own heart beating in her ears drowned out anything and everything around her. the silence that filled the dorm was so loud sora thought she might scream. it felt like it was crushing her . why of all places was she there, with chan in his arms shaking. chan’s hands softly stroked her hair bringing her back to him. her breathing mimicked his as he attempted to help her as best as he could.
sora took a deep breath and allowed herself for the first time in months to feel at ease. she could feel him press his lips on her cheek like he always did when he tried to soothe her. it worked. she couldn’t understand why or how but chan never failed to make her feel at ease.
“you’re okay .” chan repeated in a whisper, continuously stroking her hair soothingly. sora forced herself to believe it even just for the night
in that moment chan didn’t care to ask where she had been or who she was with or where her shoes were or why she walked in the rain at 4am. he had to help her. he gently removed her makeup and changed her out of her soaked dress, his large sweatshirt engulfing her and surrounding her with his comforting scent again.
sora held him tightly that night, she pushed away the thoughts that she needed to leave, run away before the inevitable heartbreak. her heart was swelling and thumping the way she knew was dangerous,she was in love. and for the first time in years sora let herself feel everything. every nauseating butterfly, sickeningly soothing kiss to her face and headache inducing heartbeat; all of it. she wanted it all.
sora was in love and it was terrifying.
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