#I wish I had the drive to make armor

[aussied]

I'm cosplaying as Book!Percy Jackson at a con I'm going to soon and if people come up to me and call me Luke I'm gonna launch myself into the sun

[leofrith]

thinking about din djarin tonight :(

[necronomicorn]

Scorned Sympathy ( Aegon II Targaryen x Reader)

Fandom: House of the Dragon, Aegon II Targaryen x Fem! Hightower! Reader

Summary: Alicent Hightower's sister has always hated the King, and transversely, he has hated her back. But, that all changes after he returns from Rook's Rest.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: none? I think, I don't know, its HOTD but mostly hurt/comfort and fluff

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They say that burns are a sacred death. The death of  dragon riders, honoring them among the living, and the dead. In his history lessons, Aegon had heard it was peaceful. Yes, there was supposed to be a screaming,  agonizing pain, but as flesh burned away, it took nerve endings with it, leaving them to feel nothing, numb. 

But Aegon hadn't been so lucky, he had only wished he had died back on the battlefield, died on impact of the flames. Then he wouldn't have had to suffer through spiraling to the ground, snapping his bones, or feel his armor being peeled away after it had merged with his flesh. He wouldn't have had to sleep nearly every hour of the day, waking up only to experience excruciating pain, relearning to walk when every step made him cry out in agony. 

The once comforting walls of his bedroom had turned into a torture chamber as he was forced to his feet by the Maesters, only to hobble around the confinements of those walls, good hand gripping the cane with enough force to drive splinters in his hands and cause his knuckles to turn white.

He cried out as the Maester pushed him into another step, holding him upright as best he could. Larys Strong stood in the patch of sunlight in the room, giving him an angelic halo, ironic as it was his devilish idea to make Aegon start walking so soon, only weeks after he had returned to the Red Keep.  

"Impressive," the club-footed man says, heads turning in his direction, "But I'm afraid you must work harder."

Aegon screams as Larys reaches around his other arm, cries of pain sounding like twisted laughter as together, they move him another step. Burned tissue stretched as they did, a blinding pain seeping through his barely-healed broken leg. 

The men pause in their persistence as the large bedroom doors swing open, silver-draped guards pushing them back to reveal the figure of Y/N, the youngest Hightower daughter. Her frame was draped in a long black gown, tied around her center with a golden chain that stopped several inches above the hem of her skirts. Long copper hair draped down her back, just as her eldest sister, yet that was where the similarities stopped. 

While Alicent was looked up to, a regal Queen of the realm, her sister had all but denounced her high-blood status, working in the streets as a herbalist, giving medicine to the poor, healing wounds, and delivering children. It wasn't until Viserys had died that Alicent welcomed her into the castle, for her protection, she had explained, though no man nor woman would dare to touch the 'witch'.

"Return the King to his bed, my Lords," the woman says, striding into the room, hands folded neatly in front of her gown. 

"The King must regain his strength, my Lady, he must practice," Lord Larys calls over his shoulder, dismissing her command.

Y/N smiles curtly at his defiance, "How would you like to disfigure your other foot, Lord Layrs?"

The man stops, struggling out from underneath the King's arm, "The King-"

"The King is too busy moaning in agony to give a shit about what you think," the woman interrupts, a boldness frowned upon in the castle, "Return him to bed, and leave us. I'm sure there are whispers to attend to."

Reluctantly, the Maester carries Aegon to his bed, allowing him to fall back onto the sanction of his covers. The Maester moves to lift the King's legs, despite his protests, earning a painful cry as they hit his sheets.

Vhisrya watches as the King rolls to his untainted side, arms curled up against his chest in defeat, body trembling as whimpers escape his scarred lips. The Maester exits quickly, Lord Larys slowly following, glaring at her with every step. It is only when she hears the large doors latch shut behind the men that she makes her way over to the King's bedside. He resembled a small child more than a man, curled around himself in loosely fitted clothes, eyes squeezed shut as his body shook.

He takes a ragged breath as he senses her presence beside him, eyes opening just the slightest to glare at the black-clothed woman, "Come to finish me off, witch?"

The witch makes no remark against him, only motioning for the boy to sit upright in the bed. He does so, grunting in pain, bracing himself on his good arm as he slides up to prop his back against the headboard. 

Y/N makes note of his trembling hands, the way he still insisted on putting up a bitter front despite not being able to move even a foot without collapsing in pain. It reminded her of his father. 

Regardless, she reaches for the buttons of his nightgown, pulling them apart hastily till his chest was exposed. Blistering red wounds stretched across the expanse of his left side, charred and black in some places, while in others, the skin had been cut away in jagged marks from separating melted armor from the King's flesh. 

"What-what are you doing?" Aegon trembles, fear lacing his voice. 

The woman's eyes move from his chest, to his face. He watched as they drifted from his swollen eyelid, to the top of his head, where silvery-blonde hair parted from vibrant burns, to where his ear once was, reduced now to a small lump that opened into his eardrum. He knew it was hideous, he wouldn't lie to himself, trying to persuade his own mind that he was still the beautiful boy the kingdom worshiped. He knew that if he healed, he couldn't even be seen in a pleasure house, not even the whores wanting to be fucked by a monster such as himself.

"Your grace?"

A soft voice draws him out of his own mind, one that was nearly unrecognizable coming from the woman beside him, "I have an ointment, one that should assist in healing your burns. But, I require you to remove your sleeves."

"Can't", Aegon grunts, talking becoming an exhaustion.

"I can assist you," the woman cooes, dragging the soiled fabric down his good arm first.

Aegon whimpers as her hand moves to his burned side, gently peeling the fabric from his neck, then down his shoulder, drawing near his bicep. He could feel the fabric stick to his skin, the pus that leaked from his wounds drying, attaching itself to the coarse fabric.

"I'm going to lift your arm," the woman says, earning a series of pleading "no"'s as she does.

The prince groans in pain, feeling the blistering skin stretch, muscle burning as she peeled the fabric away from his body, letting it pool around his waist.

Y/N could see the King's murderous gaze as she finished, pulling his arm back immediately, heavy breaths filling his chest, followed by shaking exhales. 

She makes haste, placing a mortar on the nearby table, filling it with oils and herbs, grinding it till the scent fills the room, overwhelmed by lavender. The King watches as she pulls a small vial from the pocket of her dress, opening it to reveal a nearly clear, thick liquid.

"What is that?" the King asks, the filth of his mind overpowering common sense.

Y/N looks back to the burned man, unaware he was watching her, "It's dragon saliva. Something in it prevents the dragons from being burned when they breathe fire, and proves itself to assist the healing process quicker than the Maester's brew alone. It only took me so long to bring it to you as your brother won't let me near his dragon, Sunfyre has not returned from Rook's Rest, and Helaena won't speak to me as she thinks I had something to do with your son's beheading."

Her last words come out as an aggravated shout, making the boy flinch. With a deep breath, she regains herself, carrying the mortar to his bedside, black dress fanning out on the sheets beside him, "I apologize, your Grace. You all think of me as some plague here to ruin the sanction of your home, yet Alicent refuses to let me leave the castle walls."

It was strange, hearing his mother's name be used so plainly, everyone else referred to her as the Queen, even Aemond and him referred to her as  "your Grace". 

Aegon clears this throat as the woman begins to spread the paste across his chest. It burned at first, but not to the level of the Maester's concoction. Perhaps dragon saliva was the key.

"She believes you would flee to Rhaenyra, aid her conquest for the crown," he grunts, intently gazing at the greenish mixture spread across his skin.

"And she is right," Y/N states plainly, "Rhaenyra is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, and you have usurped her crown."

"I could have your head for that," Aegon jokes, a faint smile, one of the first since he had returned, spreading across his lips. 

The woman smiles back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she continues to coat his torso, " I could have already had yours."

"Why haven't you, then?"

The hand that holds the brush hesitates, as Y/N searches for an answer. In all honesty, she has had many opportunities to kill the man, yet the thought never truly crossed her mind. She takes a deep breath before continuing her strokes, "You may be a monster- the sins you have committed are so terrible that you'd burst into flames if you ever set foot in the Sept. But, I know you did not choose to be King, just as I did not choose to waste away in this castle. I do not wish to punish you for something you cannot control, you have suffered enough."

Aegon says nothing, only faint whimpers coming from his lips. His breathing stilled as the woman traced a line of ointment across his face, delicately placing it across the edge where untouched skin met charred flesh. His body jolts as she accidentally brushes over an open wound on his cheekbone, where his helmet had melted, merging itself with his flesh. Despite how careful the Maester had been when removing it, deep gashes still marred his face. 

The King yelps in pain, eyes shut as the oils burn their way through his open wound, sending a new wave of intense pain across his face. His body curls against itself, a position he found himself in more and more often these days. But rather than digging the nails of his good hand into the palm of his fist, he found a softer, more delicate hand in his , softly stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, "I'm sorry."

Aegon whimpers, the comfort of her touch calming the scarred boy. It was rare that he obtained touches like these, not even from his mother, despite how much she claimed she loved him. No, she was more focused on being Queen than being a mother.  His wife was the same way, more fascinated with her bugs than her husband, only laying with him when they were forced to produce an heir, before returning to her own quarters in solitude. He would watch Helaena with their own children, interacting with them, holding them, reading to them, only wishing that his mother had done the same. 

So Aegon welcomes the warmth of the witch, clutching her hand with the intention to never let go until his scars had healed and he could hold his head with as much dignity as a true king. "Tell me a story," Aegon whispers, distracting himself from the pain that stretched across his body with every breath.

Y/N smirks, placing the mortar between her legs so she could continue placing the ointment with his hand still clutching her own. 

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful Princess, who was locked away in a tower guarded by a fierce dragon. Her parents, the King and Queen, missed her dearly, and declared that any knight who were to rescue her from the dragon's keep, would marry the lovely Princess.

Not far from the kingdom lived a beast, alone. He was happy that way, till a power-hungry Lord wished to take the beast's land for himself. Upset, the beast made a deal with the Lord, in exchange for his land, the beast would rescue the Princess from her dragon's keep, so the Lord may marry her. True to his word, the beast saved the girl, yet as they traveled back to the Lord's castle, the beast found himself falling in love with the Princess."

Beside her, Aegon's breath slows, muscles relaxing against her grip, yet his violet eyes stay fixated on the woman. He listens to her intently, soft voice ringing through the silent room, as airy as wind blowing his curtains in the night. 

"One night," Y/N continues, brushing the ointment across his scarred forearm, "The beast sought to confront the Princess, yet when he came to her cabin, he heard vile words coming from her mouth, ones solely describing such a monster as the beast. Furious, he gave her to the Lord, returning to his swamp alone. Yet, he couldn't forget the Princess, as even if she despised him, he loved her. So, he returned to the Lord's castle the night of the wedding.

As the sun fell that night, the beast watched as the beloved Princess transformed before his eyes, to a beast herself. Cursed by a witch many years before, the Princess turned ugly, monstrous, every night, the curse only to be broken by true love's kiss.

Together, the beast and the Princess slayed the Lord, and wed that night. Yet, when she kissed the beast, her appearance remained disfigured. The Princess then realized, that love's truest form was not based in beauty, but in happiness. She returned to the swamp with her beloved beast, and the two lived happily ever after."

Vhisrya finished her story with a smile, placing the brush back in the mortar. She looks down at the King, whose eyes were shut. For a moment, she thinks he has fallen asleep, but Aegon grunts, indicating he is still conscious, "Was there a moral to that story?"

He had only thought of the question after listening to one of Jaehaerys's lessons, one of the few times he was sober while the sun was still high in the sky. It made him feel like a child himself, curled along his tutor's side as she read him tales of past Kings.

The woman beside him rolls her eyes, placing her hand atop his own, "The moral is that even though someone may appear hideous, it does not make them a beast."

A deep flush overtakes Aegon's body, understanding her words. Still, he purses his swollen lips, "What if one's insides are as hideous- as hideous as their outsides?"

"Then that is truly a monster," Y/N replies, watching as the boy's face turns to a scowl.

A few moments of silence pass before the woman lets out a heavy sigh, "The beast was known for killing villagers set foot near his swamp, yet after he rescued his bride, he never killed again. He changed, Aegon, and you can too."

A chill is sent up Aegon's spine when she says his name. Like the rest of his court, she only addressed him "your Grace", and even when she did refer to him indirectly as "King Aegon", spite laced her words, bitter as poison. In every sober moment he had believed that she had hated him, yet her presence and aid in his time of need dismissed the notion from his mind entirely. 

Not even his mother had looked at him for this long, or made conversation so kind. Aegon had seen her, several times, hovering behind the Maester's as they tended to his wounds, yet she never dared to approach him, so close to his gnarled flesh. He couldn't blame her, he knew it was hideous, and the Queen's stomach was not meant to see such obscenities. 

In all honestly, neither should Y/N, but her previous line of work made her accustomed to such sights. The King swallows thickly, pain stretching up the left side of his neck, causing him to let out a small whimper. 

He feels the woman's hand stroke through his matted hair, hair that hasn't been brushed, or even washed in days. It shamed him, that he was incapable of keeping up his own appearance, needing the hands of servants to take the place of his own in combing his hair, washing him, dressing him, feeding him. 

"Will you stay with me tonight?" he whispers, discarding the last bit of dignity he held.

Y/N looked to the boy below her. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that she had never seen before, a glisten of sadness, despair, hopelessness. "Of course."

Aegon grunts as the weight shifts on the bed as she lays beside him, on his good side, not wanting to damage him in his slumber. The tormented King watches as she discards her jewelry on the furthest bedside table before fluffing a pillow to join him in the bed. Her long hair splays across the pillow as she grasps his hand, leaving several inches between the two of them. 

"Come closer," Aegon pleads, pulling gently on her hand, as much as his muscles would allow without excruciating pain.

"I don't want to harm you," Y/N says quickly, concerned etched in her features. 

"You won't" Aegon replies, sinking into the warmth of her body pressed against his own.

His body aches from his burns, the ointment only soothing his pain so much. It was nights like this, when Aegon couldn't sleep, when his body caused him so much trouble that he trembled and moaned until the morning sun rose. But as he curled against the woman, his pain began to subdue. He knew it wasn't literal, that her presence made his hurt go away, but he wished to believe it that simple, that she was his cure.

Y/N listened to his wheezing breaths slow as she held him, hand tight in her own. She felt the King's nose bury itself against the nape of her neck, a small grunt escaping his lips. She could feel his  chest rise and fall against her own as the King falls into a dreamless slumber. 

Darkness fills the room as the final candle burns low, the witch finally closing her eyes for her own rest, holding the broken, tortured boy in her arms, keeping him safe through the night. 

[slasherscream]

I love your writing! And you just get my craziness and character obsessions. I was thinking what would happen if reader had a bruise cheek or lip, and refuse to tell them what happen. Then they discover that the reader was the one who beat the shit out of someone for saying something about their partner, and how proud yet pissed off they will be. I’m think Crazy Ass Girls Gang, need more possessive and protective FMC. Thank you!

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine - Tricks you into thinking she’s gonna be normal about it. She purses her lips when you won’t tell her anything, but quietly rushes off to get the first-aid kit. WATCH OUT! You have just activated a trap card: emotional manipulation. Her most powerful weapon. She’ll silently and dotingly take care of you. Disinfectant. Gentle Hands. Careful bandaging. Petulant silence. Painkillers lovingly dropped in your hand. Big sad eyes staring up at you. When you inevitably break and tell her what happened she could melt! She does melt, straight into your arms. You’re gonna be covered in lipstick by the time she’s through with you. Her hero. Don’t worry, she’ll help you clean up… eventually. Later, you’ll have to help her clean up too. It was so romantic of you to fight for her honor…. But she'd never let someone live after they hurt you, silly.

Jordan Li - Won’t drop the line of questioning until you’re damn near ready to fight her too. She hates that you’re hurt. She loves that you wanted to defend her. Jordan gets a lot of criticism, sometimes it seems never ending. The fact that you feel so strongly about protecting her, not because you think she can’t fight her own battles… but because she shouldn’t have to do it all alone? It means a lot. Still, she doesn’t want you getting into fights. Let alone fights over her. It doesn’t matter how badly you hurt the other person. If there are marks on you Jordan is going to go find them for round two. “You like to put hands on people?” Words spoken seconds before disaster (she’s ignoring the fact that you started the fight. Jordan could give a shit about semantics.)

Nancy Downs - Don’t wanna tell her? Cool! Get ready to experience her favorite couple’s activity besides shoplifting: abusing your coven bond to read your mind! Hooray! It will hurt badly. Because Nancy always makes it hurt when you keep her out on purpose, or hide things from her (or when she thinks you’re doing that.) But don’t worry, after she realizes how sweet you really were, she’ll make you feel all better. Cooing over you as much as she ever allows herself to coo. Cleaning your cuts. Healing you with her magic. Trying to ease the fever that always comes whenever she uses your bond in a way she shouldn’t. She thinks you’re the stupidest, sweetest thing. You’re witches. You don’t have to use your fists anymore to win fights. She leaves you with the coven and goes to enact a witch’s vengeance on whoever dared to lay a finger on you. 

Jennifer Check - You’ll try not to tell her but she immediately starts making such wild accusations you have to just come out and admit to why you’re injured. “I can smell someone on you. If you wanted to get beat up to get your rocks off you should’ve just told me, I’d happily beat the shit out of you.” Start talking quickly! She looks like she’s about to start fulfilling that nonexistent wish now. Once you tell her she has to suppress a smile. She’s a demon. She doesn’t need you playing knight in shining armor over what some jealous, mouth-breathing, loser is saying about her… but, it’s kinda hot that you did. She’ll show you just how hot she thinks it is. Then you two are gonna take a nice little drive, and you’re gonna point out the jackass who put bruises on you. She’ll fuck you again after she’s full. “Thanks for finding my next meal, baby.” 

Victoria Neuman - Victoria expects you to have better self control than this. Not telling her what happened isn’t an option. Ever. The look on her face when you first try and insist that nothing happened is enough for you to quietly admit you got into a fight. Her blood pressure sky-rockets. You two have an image to maintain. You’re her spouse. She has enough problems as it is. She’s thinking of viral videos, nightly news, seedy gossip magazines doing think-pieces: do we really want this person standing behind the president as first spouse? When you tell her you fought one of the Boys for trying to convince you she’s a monster? Well…. She goes a little softer. Victoria will pull you into the circle of her arms and thank you for being so loyal to her. She means it from the bottom of her heart. She’s also dreaming of the day she can pop their fucking heads. Touching you. Talking to you. Trying to turn you against her… they’ve crossed her last line. 

Carrie White - The moment she sees you she’s in hysterics: “Oh, Angel, what happened?!” You’re really gonna sit there and not tell her anything? She’s worked herself into an anxiety attack within seconds. She can hardly open the first aid kit, she’s shaking so bad. The sound of your voice is always so soothing for her that you’ll start telling her the story just to have something to say. She listens quietly while she cleans you up. You’ll have to pull her into your lap before long, and kiss her gently. You’re all she has in the world and it scares her to death to think of you putting yourself in unnecessary danger. You’ll fall asleep curled into each other’s arms. You whisper soft reassurances: “Nothing’s gonna happen to me / I’ll always be here.” Carrie tries her best to listen. You’ll wake up alone, but wander downstairs just as Carrie walks through the front door. She wanted to get her knight in shining armor some breakfast from your favorite diner down the street. She watches you eat with a big smile, and thinks about how she’ll have to burn those clothes in the trunk of the car. She couldn't risk them trying to hurt you again.

Ginger Fitzgerald - Don’t piss her off. If you don’t tell her exactly who touched you she’ll rip the entire city apart. Women, children, men, everyone. Anyone. “Do you want me to do that? Huh, baby? Is that what you want me to do?” No? Then start talking. She won’t be able to see through the blood-lust long enough to take care of you. As soon as you say a name Ginger’s out the door. She’ll only return once she’s thoroughly covered in viscera and gore. She’s still dripping with it when she crawls into bed with you, smearing the blood across your body. She’ll lick at any injury you have, until they’re clean and closed, your skin smooth and unblemished. She’s the only thing that can leave marks on you. She’ll kill anything else that tries. “You don’t have to lift a finger for me, baby. If you want someone hurt, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.” Just run your fingers through her hair and try not to cringe as your fingertips get stained red. 

Patricia (Split) - She’s devastated by the state you come home in after she allows you to go out on a walk all by yourself for the first time since you were…. taken. You’d been so good for her. So obedient. So sweet. She wanted to reward you. And now your eye is starting to bruise, and your clothes are all askew, and your knuckles are swollen. Her calm demeanor cracks, and it’s a struggle to stay in the light. She takes deep breaths, centers herself. None of the others are what you need, right now. You need her. She strips you down, runs you a bath, won’t even let you hold the washcloth. It’s only as she’s patting you dry that she can force out words, finally: “What happened to you, sweet thing, hmm?” The guilt nearly brings her to tears. Months of keeping you close and look at what just a pinch of negligence has done to you… You try to assuage her guilt. You tell her you ran into a neighbor, who’d seen the two of you out together once Patricia trusted you enough to accompany her for little things like grocery trips. You say it’s your fault you came back to her in this condition. That you just couldn’t stand the vile things they said about her. Her face drops into an expression you’ve never seen. It’s gone in an instant, replaced by that comforting, ever present smile she wears for you. She takes you by the chin and kisses your forehead: “My little sweet thing. Playing knight, are you?” You had her love before. Tentatively, you had something like trust. Now Patricia trusts you completely. Even so, you won’t be going out alone again. Patricia trusts you. But it’s clear she can’t trust the world to be gentle with you. Don’t worry, though. All you need to do is ask, when you want to feel the sun on your face. You never see that neighbor again, no matter what time of day you and Patricia go walking.

A/N: thank you!!! we need more batshit crazy women with something wrong with them! Batshit crazy women with something wrong with them unite! if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. Xoxoxo

[starlightsearches]

Yes, absolutely! So. Eddie x FemReader. They are best friends and have this special bond but all of a sudden Eddie pushes her aside for another girl he's dating or is interested in, letting her sit in the reader's seat, canceling traditions of years like movie night, etc. But somehow he wakes up and realizes he has been an ass to her (maybe because he actually wanted to get over his own feelings for her) but the reader isn't so quick to let it all go - she wants him to prove how sorry he is!

Jealousy, Jealousy

📼✨ mixtape milestone ✨📼 requests are open!

thanks for the request, bestie! and an even bigger thanks for your patience 😬 i hope you enjoy!

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Comments likes and reblogs are always appreciated, let me know what you think 💖

Warnings: mostly just language and a little drama and angst and then fluff I think but let me know if I missed anything. I've always wanted to play around with POV switches like this, which is probably why it's taken me so long to finish this one 🙄

You're fuming in the front seat.

Eddie keeps his eyes on the road—more than he probably ever has while driving—afraid that if he even glances in your direction all the smoke you're letting off will start to fog up the windshield. Like he's driving around with a forest fire in his van.

"Listen," he says, even though he's not sure what's going to come after, "it's not even a big deal."

They're the first words out of his mouth since he told you, and they're definitely the wrong ones. Your eyes flash, smoldering at the center like cigarette ends.

Your look may be fire, but your voice is all ice.

"To you."

"What?"

"It's not that big of a deal to you, Eddie," you tell him, shifting against the dirty leather seat like you can't even stand to be near him, "but it is a big deal to me."

Valerie fucking Reed—just thinking her name has you seeing blood. Everything about her puts the wrath of god in you, from the fake-ass pitch of her voice to the way she flips her hair over her shoulder whenever she thinks she's said something clever.

You'd hated her from the moment you'd met her, after the painfully cliche the freaks sit over there cafeteria routine she'd put on for you your very first day in Hawkins. You were more prepared for that shit now—had educated yourself in the art of biting comebacks and fought only with words even when you wanted nothing more than to bash her head into the linoleum tile.

But at a brand new school when you were desperate to make friends? Absolutely devastating.

If you were held at gunpoint and forced to say one honest, nice thing about her, there'd only be one you could offer up: it was her fault you'd met Eddie. With tears still stinging in your eyes, you'd carried your lunch tray in the direction of her pointed finger, falling into the nearest empty chair and tucking your chin into your chest so no one would see you cry.

That was when Eddie swooped in, big doe eyes and denim vest rattling with pins, and a thousand stupid jokes—not exactly a knight in shining armor but you'd never wanted one of those anyway.

Now Valerie wants to take him away from you, too.

Eddie drums his hands on the wheel, fidgeting with the volume on the tape he'd let you choose to soften the blow. He let's Fleetwood Mac fill the empty space between you, all the words he should say replaced with Stevie's soft vocals.

He's not used to fighting with you. Your friendship has always been as easy as breathing—except when it's not.

. . . But you really can't be blamed for that. It's not your fault he feels all weird inside every time you smile.

He wishes you'd smile at him now.

"You know," you say, feet planted on his dash and your chair pushed all the way back, "I didn't say shit when you started ditching me at lunch to deal to her and her friends, or when you skipped on movie nights for all those parties she threw because I get why you had to go, but a fucking date?"

"She just needs a place to smoke . . ." Eddie mumbles, skin hot at the word date.

You roll your eyes with enough bite he actually feels the sting.

"Right. She just needs to get high with you at your place, because she has nowhere else to go.”

Your lips drip with venomous sarcasm—absolutely soaked through with the belief that he couldn't possibly sit in the same room as Valerie and not touch her.

Do you really have so little faith in him? Eddie's got way more self-control than either of you would give him credit for. There's never been a moment he hasn't wanted his hands on you, and he's alone with you all the time.

“Come on,” he says, swallowing so his voice won't crack, “we do that.”

“It’s different," you snap back quickly.

Yeah it fucking is, he thinks, but Eddie doesn't say a word. Maybe the silence will speak for itself—or maybe it could, if you'd let it.

You carve a frustrated hand through your hair, staring him down. “Like, how do you think it would feel for you if I went out with fucking Jason Carver?"

He resists the urge to gag. "It's not like that."

It's really not like that. Just the thought of it has Eddie feeling both sick and violent, unsure if he was more likely to throw a punch or throw up.

He takes the turn into your driveway, watching you collect your stuff with a brutal speed.

"Yes it is, Eddie," you tell him as you slide from your seat before he's even fully hit the breaks, "actually, it's worse. Because Jason is a dick to everybody, and Valerie's got some fucking target on my back. I wouldn't be surprised if this was all part of some evil plan of hers to make me jealous because—"

You cut yourself off immediately, words stoppered by some invisible dam, eyes wide. Eddie's body goes cold when you slam the door without saying goodbye, stomping off to your doorstep.

He scrambles for his seat belt, practically falling out of the van in attempt to catch up to you before you get inside.

"Wait a second," Eddie says, holding the door open with his hand and trying to catch his breath, "why would that make you jealous?"

You scuff the toe of your boot against the step. "Nothing, it's stupid."

Eddie raises a brow, but you can’t look at his big, brown, beautiful eyes right now, tracing down along his leather sleeve to where his hand is planted against the door, black-painted nails splayed wide and already chipping, although you only did them a few nights ago.

Rude that the only time you get to hold him is when you're doing him a favor.

"Stupid how?" he asks.

You shrug. "I dunno . . . she just thinks I have a crush on you or something."

It's a surprise he hadn't already heard; about half of the girl's locker room were still stripping out of their gym clothes when Valerie had to bring everybody's attention to your black lace bra, before sharing a few theories on who you were wearing it for.

"Like I said, stupid." You ignore the heat in your cheeks, gripping the door again and trying to force it shut, but Eddie's not finished.

You wouldn’t notice, but his chest is heaving under his black t-shirt, palm sweating against the door. A crush? On him?

Is Valerie as delusional as he is?

"Wait," —his mouth is on a roll before his brain has caught up— "do- do you?"

Your eyes go wide with surprise, and then shrink into slits as you push him back from the door, one hot hand planted against his chest.

"Fuck you, Eddie," —he catches the words just before the slam— "fuck you for real."

It wasn't a no.

He repeats the words in his mind like he’s casting a protection spell. Like it’s some kind of ward against your anger as he scales the tree outside your window.

It’s harder than it looks, and he’s already making it look pretty difficult—but one hand’s busy clinging to the greasy paper bag packed full with burgers and those crispy tater tots you love. He manages to wiggle his way up to your window sill without losing his pants, even though the tears at his knees got caught on every twig and branch he passed.

Eddie steals a glance of you through the sheer curtains, holding back his fist from knocking. Just so he can look at you properly, without all the static of having you look back.

You're stretched out on your bed, feet in the air and headphones caught over your ears while you flip through the pages of a book. He hasn't seen these pajamas before—the little shorts that just cup the edge of your ass, and a sheer tank top. His nails are leaving little indents in his palm.

Eddie hasn't made a sound, but with the way his eyes are tracing over you, you gotta feel it. You find him at the window, and he panics, rapping his knuckles against the glass a second too late.

You roll you eyes at him, but at least you let him in.

There are honest-to-god butterflies in Eddie's stomach when he flops beside you on the bed. And he wouldn't lie—at least not to himself—but he'd tried to feel something like this before, when Valerie first started paying all that attention to him.

Her manicured hand would brush over the sleeve of his jacket while he'd be getting her product and he'd wait for this same feeling, hoping he had a weakness for all pretty girls, that any attention would him stumbling over his words and these feelings didn't have to be the end of the best friendship he'd ever had.

But it's you.

You cross your arms over your chest, frowning. "What are you doing here?"

Eddie's smile is sheepish, but not nearly apologetic enough for your taste. He holds up the paper bag in his hand, dotted with dark splotches where the grease leaked through. It lets out the heavenly scent of fried food.

"I brought dinner, you know, for movie night."

He slips a tray of tater tots from the bag, and you're resolve falters. You hold back your hand from reaching for one even though you already know how incredible it would taste, the little rivulets of salt and shining grease coating the golden skin.

"What about Valerie?" you ask, stealing your eyes away from the junk food. You hate how petulant your voice sounds.

He just shrugs, pouring out some ketchup onto the tray, licking the excess off of his pinky finger. "Told her I had other plans."

Eddie pops a tater tot into his mouth and bites down with a heavy crunch, but it feels like your heart's the thing being popped between his teeth.

And what more were you expecting? That he'd tell her to fuck off and take her money and friends with her? She's the queen of Hawkins, and you're . . . not.

Maybe you and Eddie are both delusional—or stubborn—enough to pretend like you don't care about the politics of high school, but people had abandoned their morals for less.

“So you blew both of us off, then?”

He pauses mid-bite, like a prey animal, like if he doesn’t move you can’t be mad at him.

“What?” he mumbles through a mouthful of chewed-up potatoes.

You snatch a tater tot from the tray, chewing and swallowing even though your stomach is starting to churn because something bad is going to happen and you can feel it coming like a storm in the air.

“Why are you here, Eddie?”

“I- uh, to say sorry,” he stutters.

The food's getting cold in his hands before you respond.

“What’re you sorry for?”

What’s he sorry for? Eddie has a whole list: sorry for making a fool of myself, sorry for hanging out with Valerie because I thought it might make you jealous, sorry sorry sorry for trying so hard to get over you and doing such a bad job at it.

“I, you know . . . I shouldn’t have made other plans on movie night.”

Those were the wrong words again. Crazy how easy it is for him to fuck this up—like it was something he was born with.

For a second, Eddie thinks you'll yell at him, and he's comforted by that. If you yell at him, you still care.

You take in a deep breath, and Eddie braces himself. He can take whatever you give him, will shoulder any insults you hurl and forgive you for it the second it's over.

But your shoulders slump. You let out a heavy sigh.

And he knows he can't take that.

"I'm really, really tired, Eddie," —you won't even look him in the eyes when you say it, sliding the window open again,—"see you tomorrow?"

But Eddie doesn't see you for two whole days.

That's a fucking record.

He thought you might need space, you know. So he gave you Saturday to cool off, kicked around at the trailer and gave Wayne vague answers about why you weren't around and ignoring the look in the old man's eyes. Listening to sad records and getting high and trying not to stare at your smile in all the photos plastered on his wall.

Sunday, Eddie drove by your house with the volume all the way up on your favorite Rolling Stones album, windows down while he idled at the curb. There was a twitch in the curtains, but you weren't there to shout at him for all the noise before climbing in on the passenger side.

Eddie knocked at your door this morning, hoping at least you’d want a ride to school. Your mom opened it with a sad little frown, telling him you’d already taken your bike.

And really, the two days have only ended on a technicality. Eddie sees you right now, reading a book with your head bent low, sitting at the far end of another table.

"Hey—" Eddie twitches when the flying french fry lands against his cheek with a wet slap— "are you gonna go talk to her, or did you just wanna stare?"

Mike laughs at his own joke, and the other guys giggles along.

Eddie's used to the ribbing. He's never minded it—when you're not around. Kind of enjoyed it a little. Even with his heated cheeks and stammered shut ups that completely gave him away, he needed somebody to acknowledge what he was feeling. It made it more real.

But Eddie's not in the mood for jokes today. And he doesn't need anybody to remind him that he's in way over his head with you.

He shoots the freshmen a look that works just as well as throwing a hand over their mouths—without the risk of being licked—and brushes the potato chunks from his hair while the rest of Hellfire pick timidly at their lunches.

And Eddie goes back to staring.

This time, though, you're staring back.

He meets your eyes. Just for a second, wide with surprise before you snap your head back in the direction of your book, tucking your nose between the pages. Doesn't matter how quick you were though. Eddie caught the look you were giving him.

And his heart is beating hard, like it did on the day he first met you. His limbs all staticky and weird, palms sweating because even from the first second he knew you existed he's wondered what kissing you would feel like and the question never left his head.

Eddie's on his feet before he can think about how bad of an idea this is.

"Hey," Dustin calls to him through a mouthful of square pizza, "what're you doing?"

Eddie just shrugs.

"Probably something stupid."

You can see Eddie's long legs moving in your direction from the corner of your eye, and your stomach drops out of your ass like a dip on a roller coaster in the dark and you can't see the end. He says something to the guys—his lips are moving—but you can't make it out over the sound of the cafeteria rumble, the chatter of the other girls sitting at the same table as you, talking animatedly about all the dates they went on over the weekend and completely ignoring your presence.

You dip your head closer to the pages of your book, so close all the words blur together, trying to hide from Eddie like you've been hiding the past few days. You shouldn't have even glanced in his direction, should have let the burn of his presence so close and still too far away swallow you up.

It’s getting hotter with every step he takes toward you, and you’re getting smaller, body tight and your lips caught between your teeth.

He slides quietly into the seat beside you, fingers drumming against the table, and the sound feels louder now that the girls have quieted down, not-so-sneakily listening in on whatever's about to go down between you and Eddie—hungry like sharks for any new gossip, ready to spread the nitty-gritty about why the freaks are fighting.

Eddie dips his head down, eyes big and already so sorry it feels like a punch to the gut.

"Hey," he whispers, trying to smile and failing miserably, "come here often?"

You try to smile back, but it's not much better. "Hey, Eds."

It's quiet, but not the comfortable kind of quiet you're used to around Eddie. It's a hot and sweaty quiet, a trapped-in-a-car kind of summer burn that makes your lungs go shallow.

Eddie perks up, the first words he can think of spilling out of his mouth.

"The guys were thinking about going to the record store after school. Would you wanna come?"

You wouldn't have thought for a second about refusing an invite like that a week ago. Heaven was nothing compared to wandering around a music store with Eddie.

"I don't know if I can today," you say instead, and then when you see the look of hurt on his face, you soften the blow with, "I gotta go to the library for some . . . stuff."

He hums. "Stuff?"

You shrug, playing with the pages of your book. If you're quiet enough, maybe he'll give up.

But he doesn't go anywhere. His hands stay planted on the table, silent and still for once. The black nail polish is almost completely chipped off his nails—probably picked off and littered all over the linoleum.

Eddie's voice is a whisper when he breaks the silence. "Are we gonna talk about it?"

"About what, Eds?"

"Why you're so mad at me . . ."

You've seen Eddie through a lot of shit, but you've never seen a look like this on him—eyes like saucers and brimming with shiny tears.

And you thought being in love with him was rough, but hurting him is a thousand times worse.

"I'm not mad at you, Eddie," you admit, hiding your eyes in the palms of your hands and pressing down until you see stars, "it's just . . ."

You don't get to finish your sentence.

Valerie's calling Eddie's name from across the whole fucking cafeteria. You watch her waving, standing on her tip-toes like she's not the only place in the room anybody can look, like every facet of her doesn't already scream give me attention!

Eddie sandwiches his lips together, pressing until they turn white. You're not going to like whatever he has to say next.

So you slip the dagger from his fingers, standing from the table. He can't hurt you if you hurt yourself first on his behalf.

"Actually, we can talk about this later," you tell him, slipping your bag on over your shoulder.

"Hey—"

There's sparks in your hand where he holds you, an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. It's just your hand in his, but that's all it takes for you to forget yourself, eyes caught on his soft mouth and pink tongue.

Valerie's approaching. You can see her stalking toward you over Eddie's shoulder. There's no room for vulnerability within a mile radius of her. You've got to get away before she sees all the softest parts of you exposed and decides to go for the jugular.

The door's within reach when the room goes quiet. Quiet enough Eddie doesn't even have to raise his voice when he says your name.

He's no stranger to standing on tables, but it's the first time you've seen him look so awkward, hands swinging at his sides in tight fists.

"I- I think I might be in love with you," Eddie says, "and I'm really, really sorry."

There's a chorus of ooooooooooohs from the audience, and maybe a few confused whispers from all the people who passively assumed you were already dating. Then all eyes are on you, waiting.

It's too fucking hot in this room, and your vision's starting to blur at the edges, feeling like you're on a stage and you can't remember the next line after Eddie's verbal punch to your gut.

You mumble a sound, falling backwards through the door and into the safety of the hallway.

Eddie's down off the table as soon as you disappear from the cafeteria, totally ignorant to the laughter and the jeers from all the dickheads watching.

Valerie's in his line of sight when he hits the ground.

"That was weird," she says, and Eddie can't tell if she's purposefully getting in his way, or if she's just got that aura of somebody who could tackle you to the ground but would never bother because she doesn't have to. "I mean I always knew she was a freak but—"

"Fuck off."

Eddie really would like to get into it more with her, maybe mention that he's been up-charging Valerie every time she mentioned your name, or that half the stuff he's been selling her was mixed with ten-year old spices from the cupboard above the oven.

There's more noise, but nobody else trying to get in his way, the path clear all the way to the door.

It's quiet in the hallway, and that alone leaves Eddie disoriented, swinging his head wildly, unsure which way you went.

"I'm down here."

You're on the floor a few feet away, head rested back against one of the lockers, and all of the bad shit goes away. It's that simple—like a light-switch—Eddie's panicked, and then he's not.

You're looking up at him with a soft kind of smile, despite the tight look in your eyes and sheen over your skin.

He slides down to the floor, long legs stretched out into the empty hall, shoes leaving little scuff marks across the linoleum.

"I'm sorry,"—you tell him as soon as he hits the ground, "about, you know. It was just, um, a lot."

"Don't be," he laughs, "that wasn't the smartest idea I've ever had."

The smartest idea he ever had was talking to you that first day, snatching you up before anybody else could.

Your tongue snakes out from between your lips, and Eddie has to physically hold himself back from tasting you. Your eyes dropped to his lap, your voice is small when you ask, "did you mean it?"

"Yeah, honey,"—probably should've kept the nickname to himself— "meant every word."

He's about to mumble something like, but if you don't feel the same it's totally fine, even though it definitely wouldn't be, when your head drops onto his shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know . . . just felt like a personal problem."

You laugh, and the sound shakes through him.

"I dunno, Eds. You being in love with me kinda sounds like something that I'd wanna know."

"I'll keep that in mind, for next time," he whispers. You're looking up at him with those big, soft eyes, breath pillowing against his face.

"It's the same for me," you tell him, "in case you were wondering."

In all the time Eddie's thought about kissing you, he never imagined it happening like this—on the floor with somebody's combination lock digging into his back. With your hands in his hair and the dull roar of the lunchroom somewhere nearby and his thumb tracing along your jaw and you smiling against his lips.

He was definitely missing out.

There's the metal clank of the door, and a chorus of footsteps somewhere down the hall. Eddie recognizes Dustin's voice.

"Oh my god, dude. Fucking finally."

[gladiatorcunt]

　 　╰ • ❀ - ❛happy birthday, mr. emperor!❜ ✦

cw: afab reader, daddy kink, pretend it’s april 19th, implied painal sorry for writing an anakin that would love jane eyre too much, bondage mention, dark themes, implied age gap, blowjob

“I wish you could see how the stars I made shine for you, angel.”

Last night Anakin had tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, silently chuckling when it sprung back to smack you in the face. Your nose scrunched in that bunny-esque way he loves, and he whispered against your cheek that he loved you before departing your home. As soon as you heard the door swoosh shut behind him, a bright smile beamed across your face as you sprung out of bed and began preparing. You’d gotten better at pretending to be asleep, or maybe he’s just humoring you.

It took you hours to set up your husband’s surprise stay at home birthday celebration. His job as the Emperor of the Galaxy drains the life out of him even on his good days, so you do what you can to ease the tension however possible. Today is the day in which you put your heart and soul into adoring the love of your life. It wasn’t hard to decide on this kind of party. You’re more of the long distance vacation person in the relationship, and Anakin would gently scold you about how it wouldn’t be safe to even leave the palace most of the time.

You hum a catchy tune, looking in the mirror to make sure that the bow in your hair is tied perfectly. You picked a satin fabric that matches the color of Ani’s eyes, and a part of you can’t deny that the decision was motivated by the desire to see his jaw clench in possessiveness. The little thrills you manage to witness get you through the days inside. You do some last minute twirls, glancing over your outfit and ignoring the slight discomfort of the silk ropes underneath.

Your slippers slap against the floor all the way to the dining room. The servants had already been dismissed for the day as soon as your husband had left, something else that you wouldn’t mind getting a ‘thorough scolding’ for. You know Anakin just doesn’t like for you to ever feel the need to lift a single finger if he can help it, but it’s only fair that you be the best spouse you can be on his special day.

All the food lining the long rectangle shaped table is Ani’s favorite, painstakingly put together and placed in an arrangement by your own hands. You haven’t slept in what feels like forever, but it’ll all be worth it to see how happy this will make him. Like always, you don’t care to delve into how slick your pussy gets at the thought of his approval. Even a small grunt of acknowledgement when he’s distracted drives you wild.

After making sure that absolutely everything is in the proper place, cheesy decorations strung up all over the place included, you smooth your clothes down with your palms flat and wait in the bedroom. You hope he appreciates how restrained you’ve been since he’s been gone, the tempatation to hump your puffy folds against the pillow he lays his head on is still on your mind. Anakin usually wakes you up by licking a flat stripe up your cunt under the covers and hooking his fingers in your hole to stretch it enough for him to spit in, always already naked from the night before. Like a cat kneading the surface it’s walking on, you could cry at being deprived of grounding yourself by burying your shaking hands in his soft hair.

Your excitement must bleed into the Force somehow, because you hear the heavy stomps of boots sooner than you thought. You scramble to meet your husband at the door, remembering how he once admitted that he likes to hear how happy you are to see him when he gets back. The cat never fails to return to check on the canary, and when it eats the stubbornly cheerful thing it doesn’t have to. It knows exactly where the bird is, and always will be.

You don’t even wait for him to get out of his armor and into his more casual attire that he likes to lounge around in at home. As soon as you see your favorite crow’s feet wrinkles revealed by the silver door, you pounce.

With very little effort, you reach up and push the top of your outfit off your shoulders. Anakin’s darkened gaze follows the truthfully skimpy garment as it falls to pool around your ankles. Your cheeks burn and you pray that he’ll take his time admiring you but no such luck, his eyes quickly flick up to see the start of a series of clumsily tied loose silk knots. The holonet tutorial you followed was sort of confusing, but you thought you managed to pull it off in the end!

“Fuck, look at you, bunny.” He groans, prowling around you in a slow circle. “All this for some boring old man?”

“Hey, ‘s not nice…” You wring your hands together, wiggling your plump ass for him as he makes his rounds. “You’re MY boring old man, Ani.”

“Watch it.”

“Or what?” You giggle despite the warning look he’s giving you.

The heat in his gaze feels like flames licking at your spine, but you don’t push him any further. You would never want him to have a stressed induced heart attack. Your unspoken jab makes you giggle again until you realize that Anakin could peek into your mind whenever he pleases.

The sudden slap to your rear doesn’t surprise you, nor do the frenzied squeezes. He loves to watch the skin bulge out between his thick fingers, he loves your fat ass period. The blush pink ribbons were tied together in a way that you knew would enhance your curves, putting enough pressure on your plush ass and tits in particular to really make them pop. Your thighs were nothing to forget about, though, you know better than to assume that Ani doesn’t love every bit of his baby equally.

He circles back around to face you and grins. He adjusts his cock in his pants, not taking his eyes off fof you for even a second, “So fuckin’ gorgeous, honey. And here I was about to say that the best thing I could receive is waking up to you every day.”

“Thank you, Daddy, Happy Birthday.” You purr, sinking to your knees and winding your arm around his thigh, nuzzling into the seam of his pants like you were searching for something.

He ‘tsk’s above you but he sighs and waves his hand in the air, summoning an emerald green cushion to slide under your knees before you hit the floor. That pillow didn’t exist in the beginning of your relationship, but you’ve ended up loving being like this so much that it became a necessity.

Anakin groans as you mouth at his bulge over his slacks, wetting the fabric with your kitten licks to his tip. He settles a heavy palm on top of your head and gives you a couple pats. Neither of you are in any rush, both enjoying your dynamic in a more sensual way. Ani loves how cock drunk you already seem to be, the tension in his body just melts away when he can see how much you’re salivating over your mind going blank.

“You can’t go dumb on me, Angel, I haven’t even got my present yet.” He teases you and grins when you mewl distractedly.

You’re trying really hard to pay attention, promise, but you couldn’t ignore your husband’s natural musk if you tried. “ ‘ngh- hah… ‘Sorry, Daddy.”

Then you remember that you can’t spend the rest of your life on your knees (you wish), so you sheepishly wipe the drool from your mouth. You have trouble getting hold of the zipper, your fingers being too wet to properly pull it. Your embarrassment is short lived, because Anakin is using the Force to undo it and slide his pants down far enough to free his throbbing length.

You pout in disappointment when it doesn’t flop out to smack you across the face. In no time at all you’re slobbering all over his cock.

You flutter your eyelashes up at your husband, hollowing out your cheeks and humming periodically. You can’t help the satisfied grin that comes over you whenever you get a deep groan or grunt in response. Your mouth makes ‘slurp!’ sounds as you suck him off, a sharp ‘pop!’ going off when you pull the suction away to trace the veins on the underside of his curved cock. Precum beads to the surface but they’re swiftly licked away, you outright make out with the thick tip of his dick for a good minute.

Anakin would tease you for how much of a bitch in heat you’re being, but he’s no better when he wriggles his tongue fucking either of your holes. He’d call you that with love though, he’ll never forget how grateful he is to still have you after everything.

“My consort loves their dick, huh? Should I even ask if you’ve prepped your ass?” He asks and you smother your smile in his balls as you lavish them in your saliva.

“Good bunny.” Anakin sighs, balling his fist up in your hair. “Daddy knows you like it when it hurts, angel.”

And you do, even with the dried cum around the corners of your mouth and the tears spilling over. You’re smiling in between gasps of breath with every heavy thrust, you send a thought into the Force of concern over the state of Ani’s joints and you squeal when he speeds up. He hadn’t even bottomed out yet, your puffy rim was already red enough from his bullying the blunt head past your entrance.

You sob and let your mouth hang open, staring off into space as you feel his length cleave your insides in two. The kisses dotted all over your face help soothe you, but you still pant and dig your nails into his wrist on the side of your head caging you in. Anakin’s other hand kneads one of your ass cheeks, giving you more quick pats when he think you’re getting too worked up.

Some of the ribbons wrapped around your body have been destroyed, either by Anakin’s irritation when he wanted more access or by how amateurish your knot tying skills were. The ones around your ass are still intact, and you do your best to shake your ass against the remaining inches sinking inside your puckered hole, wondering if Ani can pick up on the shimmer of the ropes in the dim light.

He’s a good man, your Ani, he only lets it hurt on special occasions. If you rub up on him really nicely, ruining your ass goes outside of those occasions. It’s his birthday, why not let him play with his favorite toy how he wishes? You take pride in the leash you have around his every waking and slumbering desire, he has the same hold on you.

At the end, the universe will only know the carnage Darth Vader left in his wake. Long dead twin suns will singe the memory of Anakin Skywalker and his lover into the fabric of reality.

[spngi]

My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Prologue | part 1 | part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 |part 5| part 6 | part 7

Part 8

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings:Grammar mistakes, mentions of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, sexual content, angst, mentions of Charles and reader.

“And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain, crossing out the good years, and you're cursing my name, wishing I stayed look at how my tears ricochet”

I spend two weeks in a daily and torturous routine.

When I finally get home after the suffocating days in the field for that damn wedding I look for the envelope that had previously been very well hidden.

I lock myself in my painting room, I leave a drink next door as a friend and an old vinyl playing, the first time I opened that envelope I needed to take my time, consider if that’s really what I wanted, things seemed to be going better after all...

When I’m finally sure I want it, I open it and read it, Carlos was right, he had been as fair as possible when putting together the papers. He provided me with a good amount of money that would give me a comfortable life, I would have an apartment, I could stay with the country house and a car, I would have access to his lawyer whenever I needed and a phone available 24 hours in case of any emergency.

I signed those damn papers in that first day, and honestly it was the easiest part of all this, I lacked the strength now to continue on this journey.

For two weeks I tortured myself looking at these papers, looking at my signature there, and when I wasn’t looking I kept remembering him. I remembered him even after my daily race with paco, or when I lay in bed now with Carlos back by my side, at dinner time or when Carlos presents me with a new armored car.

My routines bother me because I know they will no longer be a routine for me after I get divorced, the new car does not cheer me up because it won’t even be mine, and if I really were to ask for something it wouldn’t be a car, nor an object or jewelry.

When the 16th day arrives to face the document whose words I already know by heart I know that I really have to do something for myself, I have to be strong and continue with it, I have to start my life from scratch.

I was afraid that this time it was Carlos who would deny himself, that he would make me stay and I know I would, because I loved him despite everything. And I needed to love myself a little more, so I needed to put myself first this time and I knew I would need to make this irreversible both for me and so much for him.

That’s why I give lando time off and take the opportunity to go out alone in the late afternoon knowing that Carlos could not come back so soon because he had problems at work, I drive nervously through the streets of Madrid, in the new green Aston Martin until I found the building I was looking for.

I didn’t allow myself to drink a sip of alcohol or at least smoke a cigarette, an old teenage habit that seemed to be coming back in the last few days, I needed to do it sober and without excuses.

I look at myself in the rearview mirror and get out of the car before I start thinking too much, the delicate white miu miu dress adorning my body and the noise of the heels hitting the stairs of the building distract me, and when I finally get to the door of the one who was going after it I give me some time to breathe, I needed to do this.

Maybe I would never forgive myself with what I was going to do from the moment I knocked on that door but it was necessary, because that way Carlos wouldn’t forgive me either.

I fix my hair properly brushed and falling on my shoulder, smooth the fabric of the midi dress and grab my bag tightly as if it were my saving boat.

I don’t need more than two knocks on the door to be received, my perfume mixing with the owner of the apartment in the hallway with the simple gesture of opening a door, I smile no nervous this time.

“Y/n” Charles exclaims surprised to see me, he looks at my figure in front of him as if it were something mythological and I know I made the right choice when choosing to come right here. “Please enter, did something happen? Do you need anything?”

“Thank you” I thank him, crossing the door, entering his privacy. I try not to feel guilty about what I’m going to do to him, for taking advantage of the way I saw his eyes sneaking to me several times and how he has always been kind to me. “Actually, yes...”

He is enchanted by my smile, too lost in me and I feel like a mermaid enchanting him. He would never know but it would be thanks to him, Charles Leclerc, that I would finally get my exit card, and it would no longer be Mrs. Sainz. I let the bag fall on the table, a programmed gesture, showing the lack of a ring in the left hand, the same ring I had left at home before leaving.

I approach him, all the gestures very well thought out, very well articulated and I observe how darker the green iris of the man in front of me get.

“I need your help...” I sigh, giving time until my next sentence, I lay my hand on his chest and I feel strange. “With something very intimate actually”

It’s strange to be so close to another man who wasn’t my husband, it’s strange for me to wear this skin as if I were the most seductive woman in the world when I was shaking underneath, afraid of this crazy idea going wrong, afraid of being rejected and becoming a joke. The man in front of me still seems in a trance, and I understand why he is so astonished, it is not every day that his boss’s wife knocks on your door begging you to fuck her. Although he still didn’t know the last part.

I take advantage of his shock and continue with the initiative in hand, I lower the zipper of the dress and let it fall on the floor in a dry thum, I stay there in front of him, exposed in only burgundy color heels and the delicate white lace panties.

“Y/n” Charles whispers in shock, his eyes taking detail from every piece of my naked body in front of him, his muscular arms not knowing how to behave. “You?”

“Don’t make me beg for you, Charlie,” I whisper, and I feel like the most daring woman in the world. “Don’t make me regret giving you this chance...”

He doesn’t make me regret it, he’s quick to take an initiative, he’s quick to take action, hands exploring my body and taking his time, taking advantage of the moment and afraid that maybe I would disappear in front of him like magic. He kisses me as if he was waiting for it all his life and when he kneels in front of me he looks at me as if he were greeting a goddess, this image of him constrating with the rigidity he wore on a daily basis, the delicacy with which his callous hands touched me, the bipolar way his eyes face me - full of desire, ferocity and passion and at the same time looking like a child in the candy store.

He is careful and leaves no marks on my skin, although I believed he would like it. I don’t need to remind him that no one could ever know this while he helps me get dressed, he knows he would be a dead man if Carlos found out.

And besides the fact that I actually used him tonight, I know that none of us regretted what happened when I walked through the door of his apartment and went back to the future no longer my house.

I take advantage of the last hours in that house to say goodbye, I look at all the rooms and remember the good things I lived there, I observe all the corners and windows, all the paintings and tapestries.

The things I most esteemed in that house had already left earlier, going to a hotel in the city next door, I did not take gifts or jewelry, nor the expensive and exuberant clothes, I needed to start from scratch with just a few sentimental things, good and lived memories of an old joy that I lived in this place along with the small paco that would gain a new home with me.

I observe the papers in my hand and the wedding ring I hold, not daring to use it since the night before. In one last breath I enter Carlos’ office, he smiles when he sees me, when he sees me tidy - the mark of the last chapter that I would do it only for him.

“Is everything okay, love?” He asks, noticing my restless figure entering the room.

“Yes,” I answer firmly, everything was fine and everything was going to be right. I put the papers in front of him, the ring landing on top subtly and watch as his face frowns in doubt.

“What....” He looks at me in doubt, doesn’t understand what I’m doing, and I wonder if when he proposed the same thing to me some time ago how I reacted. “You didn’t want a divorce, I thought we were fine? What’s going on, y/n?”

“You were right, Carlos.... We haven’t been well for a long time, we’re just pretending that nothing happened,” I answer him.

“I love you” he speaks, voice rising a tone in despair.

“I love you too, Carlos” I sigh, not imagining that this conversation would be so difficult, after all he proposed this to me for the beginning of the conversation. “But we can’t go on like this anymore, we don’t respect each other anymore... it doesn’t work anymore”

“I thought you wanted to forget everything, we could try again from scratch, we can try couple therapy or whatever you want, y/n”

“We can’t, Carlos. And I don’t think even you could...” I murmur.

“What do you mean?”

“I betray you, Carlos” those words look like knives entering him, the pain in his eyes, the posture falling more and more, he looks at me hoping it was just another joke. “As I said before, we don’t respect each other anymore...”

I take advantage of his silence to keep talking, I didn’t want to leave like that, just letting him know that I had disrespected our marriage the same way he did, I wanted to end everything in good memories even though we were already too far from it.

“I want you to know that I don’t regret anything I lived with you, and if I had the opportunity I would do it all over again.” I sigh, his eyes stare at me foggy “I just regret letting things go so far between us, you were right when you said we needed to have finished with everything before, it would have spared us a lot of bad things. I would save myself to remember you with so many bad memories, but I know we had a lot of good memories during our wedding to remember.”

“Y/n... please” he begs, I see a tear come out in the corner of his eyes and I don’t know what he’s begging for, I wipe away the little tears that also run down my face.

“Think of it as a good story, carlos... with some cuts at the end” I try to laugh “ we were a good couple while it lasted, carlos. And I’m honored to know that I had the chance to be yours Mrs. Sainz.”

I approach his body sitting, let myself evaluate his features one last time, observe his brown eyes, his dark hair falling in waves down his face, the way his brown skin is hot even in the slight distance.

“I’ll be waiting for the lawyer to call,” I tell him, the last farewell before turning around and leaving.

I don’t take my time to leave, I had already said goodbye to this house, I didn’t need memories of it the moment I was leaving. I meet lando at the exit, paco in his arms and waiting for myself leaning in the car I was taking with me.

“It was good to meet you, lando” I smile and hug the boy in front of me.

“It was good to be your friend, y/n.” He returns the hug and then looks at me “don’t become a stranger, we can still be friends”

“I’ll keep in touch, I promise” I smile at him “you have a huge future at hand, lando. Believe in me”

I smile, I don’t let myself look at the house behind me, I get in the car and see the companion of my new life through the rearview mirror sitting on his dog support. That was it, I managed to finish this chapter of my life, it wouldn’t be easy but I took the bravest step of my life, and I was free.

I watch the images repeat themselves on television in front of me, the words of the reporter have long in silence in my head, only the scenes repeating themselves in infinite looping.

It had been a month since I had left home and had not received any news about the divorce or Carlos.

Until that moment.

The TV shows images of him, handcuffed hands, face down and the police taking him. The scene leaves me in shock, I don’t know how long I stay in front of the TV watching and understanding what happened, but when I finally come back to me I pick up the phone and call Lando.

The connection is short and full of codes, all afflicted with any threat of also being caught by the police, which forces me to make the 2-hour trip by car to Madrid again. The path is disturbing and I don’t know what to expect, the police had already hit our old house several times, Carlos had already been arrested, staying a day or two until they couldn’t prove anything against him, I myself had already been stuck at the police station for one night while the police waited for me to let anything escape. This time it looked different, apart from the tension evident in the call I had with lando, there were newspapers and reporters, and I remember very well the caption on the screen talking about years in prison.

When I get to the house I left in the last month nothing seems to have changed, except the whirlwind of men running through every corner as in a war, which in this case seemed to be against justice. Lando seems to wait for me when I enter, I expected there to be some restriction on my presence but no one says anything, maybe not yet used to my absence, the house remains practically the same as my gaze while I let myself go up the stairs to the office that was Carlos’s, Charles is inside and when we enter he hangs up the phone.

“I was talking to the lawyer” he sighs, scratches his head and then smiles at me “it’s good to see you, y/n”

“I figured I would need to come and get the protocol if the police knocks on my door” I say, I sit in the chair for visits and wait for the right arm of the sainz family to pass the news.

“The news is not good...” he murmurs “carlos was caught and this time the police had evidence, we are talking about 5 to 10 years in prison according to his lawyer, and this is not the worst part yet...”

“Where do you mean, Charles?” I ask, the anxiety taking over me, making the white silk pants pinch on my body.

“Carlos never went to court with the divorce application” he scores the words by taking the document and showing me, only my signature there. “What keeps you both married, you don’t have to depose against him if you don’t enter the protocol...” he sighs and looks at lando as if he didn’t know how to follow from that information.

“And there’s the business part...” lando starts talking, sits next to me “the other families are afraid after prison, and they will prefer to negotiate with a face they already know”

“What you mean is that I should tear these documents and pretend I’m still married to Carlos?” I ask when interrupting the thought of the two, understanding where the conversation came from.

“Carlos’ own father gave this idea, you know that he does not intend to return from retirement... and he trusts you to manage it” the leclerc speaks, the figure tense with the whole situation and standing in front of me contrasting with the one I had the opportunity to be weeks ago.

“That’s a lot” I murmur, tilt my head back and close my eyes, pondering the turn my life was taking.

“We know, and Charles would still be here as a right-hand man to help, you would have everyone’s support if you want to stay, y/n! But we also understand if you just want to go, I know you were trying to leave all this behind” lando says, his words touching me gently.

“It seems that this life never lets us move forward, doesn’t it?” I ask a rhetorical question, I get up and cross the table, I watch Carlos’ chair that I sat so many times playing.

It’s a risky decision, it’s a decision for a lifetime, I was trying to start from scratch, have a new life and move on. But maybe that was it. I had moved on without Carlos, I could move on taking his place, without him in my life, maybe that was what the future was waiting for me. I sit slowly in his chair, I take my time feeling the feeling of being there, of what it means to sit there.

“Do I need to know anything else before tearing these papers?” I ask the men in front of me.

“You won’t like this part” Charles says and I wait for him to continue “as you are married, let’s say you are entitled to an… intimate visit”

I watch him speak, his hand scratching the back of his neck and I interrupt his discomfort.

“A visit that is not recorded or supervised... carlos explained to me a few times about it”

“It’s just in case you need to inform something that the police should not know and if you feel uncomfortable about it we will find another way” he is quick to explain himself.

“I can take it, Charles. Don’t worry”

“They’re going to do a complete review, y/n. It won’t be comfortable for you and honestly I’m not comfortable of having to use this method with you to talk to Carlos, but let’s find a way along the way for you to avoid it, okay?” It is comforting to listen to the words of the leclerc, to realize the care with the choices of word and the care with the situation that I will be exposed to, worrying about my well-being.

“Thank you, Charles. I need you to keep me updated about the whole situation and I also need your help so that business continues to happen” I smile weakly at them, take the papers in front of me and tear them “it seems that the sainz family finally won a female leader”

Charles was right when he said that it would not be easy for me to make that kind of visit, at all times I felt uncomfortable, although the worst part had been seeing Carlos again. It was horrible to see him in that situation, in a dimly lit cell, in an inmate uniform. He seems surprised to see me, but he doesn’t smile or at least say something, his head is quick to understand the whole situation and he knows at that moment we are talking on an equal footing.

Not as husband and wife, but from boss to boss.

He understands that today his life inside this prison and his future depend solely on me now.

The conversation is tense although the two understand that they need to leave inequalities aside at this moment, we need to be adults and talk about business and not about our problems. Nothing could make this conversation as comfortable as possible, not even if I eliminated the part of the body review or the wet cell we were in.

It’s libertating when I can finally get out of that prison, when I can go back home and stay away from that situation, Charles was right and would need to find another way to communicate with Carlos.

When I get home stunned and urgently in need of a bath, a strange sight in my living room makes me stop and observe the abnormal object in front of me, nailed to the wall that before was empty.

Madame Monet and her son face me, the painting on the wall of my living room where it definitely shouldn’t be, I paralyze looking at the painting that I admired, which should be in the United States on the other side of the ocean.

“You were right, it’s a beautiful painting” the soft voice of charles resonates behind me, taking me out of the trance I was in.

“This really is the ...” I don’t have the courage to finish the question, still in shock, with the painting in front of me and with the action of the man next to me.

“Yes” he says, body next to me admiring the Monet in front of us.

“I didn’t know we were involved in the theft of works of art now,” I murmur in disbelief.

“We can say that he wasn’t really at the museum...” he smiled “you said it would be a dream to be able to see him every day... I thought it would be a good welcome gift for you”

“I really have no words to thank, Charles” I smile at him, my face moved. I didn’t know how to thank him for his gesture, not because it was great on his part but because it was emotional and important to me, I also didn’t know how to thank him for what he gave me without even knowing, the freedom I gained. “Thank you very much”

“You deserve... much more than that, much more than you imagine”

“I don’t want to go back there anymore, Charles.” I sigh tired, defeated.

“So you won’t...” he replies calmly “you order it here now, y/n. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, your voice is the rule now”

These words make me alert of my position now, make me aware of where I am now and what I am now.

Although I had never even imagined becoming what I am now, I could not imagine myself doing anything other than that.

“Yes,” I smile at the leclerc next to me, “it’s good to know that”

A year ago things were very different, now everything changed. I had accused Carlos of having contaminated me with his business but maybe I just liked the way things were and let his darkness make me like him. There were many things that I stopped being and many things that I became on this journey.

And I wouldn’t have done anything different.

We have reached the end of a journey! Thank you very much for all the comments and affection you left along the way! ❤️❤️❤️

[abdeladrian]

when it comes to balduran/the emperor and ansur i think its a really interesting sort of tragedy no matter how you interpret their relationship and the nature of what happened.

because there's something to once being a hero so renowned that a home to thousands is in your name. and having a companion so dear that they'd kill you to preserve You, but also having changed so much against your will from that hero and that friend they knew and having to come to terms with it (maybe also against your will).

and being a survivor in the long run and being saved time and time again and being used and using back. of coming back home and infiltrating and taking power and being captured and used to hurt when you used to help. of running and manipulating and attempting to do the same trust-build-seduction method you once used with someone new, and trying to convince this person to become like you. because at this point you've lost the ability to feel your feelings

we obviously by nature of its character cant tell when the emperor is lying, telling the truth, or being sincere but i also like really don't like the idea of intrinsic evilness so sometimes i want to take him at face value. we have examples of a mind flayer having genuine companionship (omeluum) alongside having a purpose that lets them live a life separate from the grand design, and i fear having ansur was perhaps the only reason the emperor ever got to be free. not just physically but mentally.

because balduran went sailing one day because he missed it and never came home. ansur fought to find him and was too late. y'know. and like. how heartbreaking is that? that ansur who loved and protected and promised to keep balduran's city safe… made a promise that became a prison. to love so wholly that he wanted to preserve his partner even when his partner gave up and told him to leave and keep his memory as the thing that mattered. how heartbreaking for balduran to have killed him in self defense and then built him a tomb where he could rest? that no one would disturb him? how famous the love was that his promise to protect became legend? the last wish he ever had? that the only way to wake him was to pass a gauntlet to prove your worth? while recording praises for their partnership?

like forgive me but i don't think creating an elaborate tomb to protect ansur's final resting place is a lack of feeling. ansur made a promise that became a prison that became a legend. his legacy was love. and he recognized balduran from feeling alone and got to see him again, for what its worth. the emperor will always be ansur's balduran.

also we see ansur in his dragonborn form. not controversial i hope but they were more than friends! ansur i'm sorry king. your husband became calamari and unrecognizable. and when he accuses balduran of thralling the player, which we can refute, and ansur just stops to Look only for balduran to break the silence by RECITING THE LETTER? DEAR ANSUR? AND THAT'S WHAT DRIVES ANSUR TO ATTACK?

nevermind the fact that you can't make the dream guardian a dragonborn. and the armor it wears is awfully similar to ansur's in his humanoid form. balduran never forgot ansur. i think balduran-as-the-emperor in dream guardian form not taking a form like ansurs but still keeping that armor, still speaking ansur's words and acting out his intents when promising the player protection and care, is evidence that ansur lived in him still. even through the layers of the loss of identity that was him becoming a mind flayer.

ansur was the heart of the gate. and it's baldur's gate. he's balduran's heart. his heart. ansur lived in him. it was a promise that became a prison that became a legend. his legacy was love

[jpitha]

Curiosity

Captain Benimen grabbed the arms of his chair tightly as the gravity struggled to keep up with the twirling and twisting, the ducking and juking his ship was doing to try and avoid the missiles, energy weapons, and slugs being thrown at them.

"Stupid humans! Why did I even agree to this?" He shouts, as a rippling thump runs along the spine of his ship and makes the deck plates rattle.

"To be fair Captain Benimen, we're not the ones shooting." Keli, one of the human engineers brought over by HIDA and the Coalition was also gripping the bottom of her fold-out chair tightly. Human ships have belts in the seats to keep you in place during high maneuvers; there is no such luxury on the Sefigan's ship. "You aren't going to return fire?"

She had a point. It wasn't human pirates that were attacking his ship and attempting to disable his newly installed Flipwarp drive, still he was never one to stop when he had a good rant going.

"It doesn't matter! The moment you show up, trouble follows close behind. Besides, we can't return fire, we have no weapons. Sensors!" he barked, "Who are these pirates anyway?"

The officer at the sensor suite station is barely holding on as the ship bucks and moves. The screen is vibrating so much they can barely read it. "Uh, it might be Whitetail, Captain. It's tough to tell while we're dodging them."

"Whitetail?! What are they doing way out here?" Captain Benimen starts gesturing with his hands as he's yelling, but a bump causes him to lift out of his seat and he scrambles to grab the arms again. "I don't care who it is, Flipwarp us out of here, we'll outrun them." He turns to Keli "Your upgrade had better work."

"Flipping now, Captain" Helm reports, and the ship is suddenly encased in the prismatic field of their new Flipwarp drive and the shaking stops.

Benimen nods to himself and his fur lowers. "Good. Now that that's settled, we can figure out-" Another series of heavy thumps is felt through the deck. There's a puff of atmosphere, and they can all hear the muffled cries of an alarm and the pressure doors slamming shut through the ship. "Ancestors! What was that?"

"Sir! It appears that Whitetail followed our Flipwarp signal and is giving chase. They're behind us!" The sensor suite officer's voice is tinged with panic.

Automatically Benimen looked behind. All he could see was the rear of the Command Deck, and he swore softly. Turning back to the screen in the front, he could see the outline of another ship behind them, also encased in a prismatic field soaring through Flipspace. "How are they doing that? How can they track us?" He turned to Keli. "Do you know?"

Keli looked up at the ceiling in thought for a moment. As she did, she blinked and stared at the lights. "That's not right..." Looking around, she strode over to the wall behind the captain and ran her hand along a seam. She followed it to the door out of Command. "What the..." She stood up and walked over to the helm station. "Can I check something out for a moment please?"

"O-of course, go ahead." The officer stood, and Keli sat, wincing at the chair made for smaller and more cushioned bodies. She started tapping at the panels.

"Ancestors..." she tapped, frowned, tapped some more. There was a sound like someone banging pots and pans under water.

"They're still firing." The sensor officer replied, glancing up at Captain Benimen, their eyes flicking between him and Keli.

"Keli? Anything you'd wish to share with us during our last few moments alive?" Even in the middle of the battle Captain Benimen made time for sarcasm.

Keli waved him off and touched something near her ear. "Greg, come up to Command, you need to see this."

A few seconds later, a human walked in, wearing an armored pressure suit. The command crew swiveled to look as he clanged in and they all looked worried. Greg lifted his helmet. "Some of the ship is in vacuum, that's why I'm in the suit. The Fire teams are working on securing the area and making safe passage from aft to fore." He walked over to Keli. "What's wrong?"

"Look at this, can you see the lockout here? Keli pointed at something on the back of the station. "Look here too, I think this was added later." She ducked under the station and swore. "This was retrofitted! Captain, who did you buy this ship from?"

"Er, it was my Father's ship, and before that, his Uncle's." Captain Benimen's claws slid in and out of their sheaths in irritation. "It's been in our family for more than one hundred solar years. Why does this matter? We're being shot at, if you have forgotten."

"It matters, Captain, because you seem to have a ship made out of another ship." She pointed up. "Greg, look up, what do you see?"

It was difficult to look up in a pressure suit. Greg had to lean back and crane his neck. Almost as soon as he did he said "Those aren't Sefigan lights."

"Exactly! Check out the rear panel behind the Captain too. That's not made of vremnian, it's a different alloy. I'd bet thirty stars that it's polychroma."

Greg smiled. "I'll take your word for it Keli. It's interesting, but I don't see how this will help us."

Keli gestured with her hands and opened her mouth and closed it once or twice. She was having trouble with her words. "This means that it's not a Sef ship, they bought it and retrofitted it centuries ago. They would have most likely bought it from the Draeden."

"I'll take your word for it, Keli, starship history is your hobby, not mine."

"No no! The Draeden were notorious for arming everything. They were more paranoid than we were! So if we can find where they dummied out the old systems and shunt some power to them..."

"Then we can reactivate the Draeden weapons? Keli that's insane. If they're still here, they're under tons of hull and even if they were exposed they haven't been powered in a couple of centuries."

Keli crossed her arms. Another brace of shots punctuated her pose. "So you'd rather get disabled, boarded and killed - if we're lucky?"

Greg sighed. He bent over and with a thrumming woosh, his suit opened like a flower and he stepped out. "What do I need to do?"

She pointed over towards sensors. "Check that wall, look for hatches, panels, anything. She tapped the comm on her wrist and clinked it against Greg's head. "Here's an update to your translator overlay, you should be able to read Draeden; they're old enough they didn't speak Belanic."

While Greg searches, Keli returns to the helm station and crawled underneath. Captain Benimen could only watch as she started ripping fistfulls of wire out from under the station, and the acrid smell of burning insulation filled the deck.

"Keli! Cease this at once! Stop trying to destroy my ship!"

She slid out from underneath and threw a card at him. "I'm sorry, Captain, I'm in command now." And then went back under the helm station and ripped more wires.

Captain Benamin read the card. In no uncertain terms it told him that Keli had the full backing of the Coalition to do anything and everything to continue her mission - including taking command. On the back was the sigil and signatures of all ten administrators. He held the card as if it would burn him, and sat, defeated.

Suddenly as Keli was ripping wires, there was an alarm that sounded on the deck. It was... different. The crew hadn't heard this one before. It sounded older, more crackly, more warbling.

And the voice wasn't speaking Belanic.

"Got it!" Keli sat up in triumph, and her finger started dancing over the screens. "Greg, did you find it yet?"

"Find what, I've been tapping an- oh!" As he was talking, Greg heard the tone of the panel change. He pushed hard, and it popped open, sliding back on very old gas shocks. Inside were two very large levers, caked in dust and grease. Above them was a sign written in the dotted slashed text of ancient Draeden. As Greg focused on it, his overlay translated the text. 'Manual Override.' "Keli, I found some levers marked Manual Override."

"Yes! Those are the ones. When I say, pull them out, twist the handles 180 and push them back, hard. I'm doing to drop us out of Flipwarp in three... two...now"

With an uncharacteristic shudder, the ship fell out of Flip space and was in regular space again. A moment later the Whitetail ship appeared next to them, and began to fire.

"Now Greg!"

Greg heaved on the levers and they came out of the panel with a heavy clang. He turned the wide handles on the end 180 degrees and bending down, pushed them back into the cabinet until they clacked home.

As he finished, the ancient alarm changed. It went from a high warbling tone to a faster, more insistent tone. A voice in a calm, authoritative voice said something and after a moment repeated it. Another beat, and the ever present noise of the ship, the HVAC, the reactors, everything went silent. Even the gravity turned off, and everyone started to rise from their seat awkwardly.

Benimen began to spin slowly in the air. "I swear on the dust of my ancestors human, if you have broken my ship I will-" he started, but then Keli glared at him. Some very ancient part of his brain reacted to her predatory glare and he stopped. Sefigans were omnivores on their original world, but they tended to be opportunistic. They didn't hunt unless that was the only option. His ancient brain knew what a hunter looked like and knew he shouldn't antagonize one.

After three heartbeats, there was a series of sharp clangs running the length of the ship, starting in the front and headed aft. Following that, the noise of the ship started to return, but the reactor sounded different, angrier. The gravity turned on and everyone fell back into their seats. Benimen landed hard on his bottom.

"Captain! We're..." Sensors looked at their screens and boggled. "Captain, we're splitting off from our ship."

"We're what?" He stood up and ran over to the sensor officer. Sure enough, what looked like the cargo bay, the rear maintenance garage and the hangar was floating away. Luckily the crew quarters, the reactor and the front portion of the ship was still intact. They didn't loose anyone when the ship peeled away.

Keli looked over and pointed. "Greg!"

Greg turned and next to the panel where the manual override levers were, another panel spun around. This had a series of screens and levers, all slightly grimy. He concentrated on the text and his overlay translated.

"Weapons suite."

****

"Pow! Zap! Just like that! I would not have believed it myself if I hadn't seen it, but luckily for you, I was." Benimen nodded to himself and took another sip of his drink.

The bartender made a face. "So you're telling us that your creaky old cargo ship that you got from your father was secretly a Draeden-"

"-a group we hadn't heard anything from in nigh on four centuries." the Innari next to Benimen helpfully added.

"Yes thank you Ki. Your ship was decretly a Draeden frigate this whole time, and you never figured it out?"

"Well, I got the ship from my Da, right? He showed me how to work it and that was that. I never dug into it because I didn't need to. I hauled cargo, and it did that well." Benimen's excitement was diminished with the words from the bartender. He did have a point after all.

"But Beni, you didn't even have the curiosity to learn about your own ship?"

"Dammit Rai what do you want me to say? That I was an idiot and never learned more about my ship and it's history? Why would I do that. Why would I learn about the history of a spanner, or a welder, or a compensator?"

"Because sometimes, you learn interesting things." Keli said, walking into the bar. She was dressed in the sharply tailored black uniforms of HIDA now instead of her grubby coveralls. Her long hair was tied back into a simple ponytail and she was grinning. "Benimen, I was coming by to say thank you for letting me take control, and to apologize for breaking your cargo ship."

The Rai and Ki stared at Keli in shock, and then turned to Benimen "You were telling the truth?" they said in unison.

Benimen grunted and took another sip of his drink. "Course I was."

"Captain Benimen, on behalf of HIDA, I am offering you recompense in the form of three hundred thousand stars. That should be suitable to repair and refit your ship, yes?" She handed him a pad and sure enough, he was now three hundred thousand stars richer. The sigil of the Coalition was at the bottom of the document, certifying it as genuine.

He slid off his barstool and stood before Keli. "Keli - I should say, Agent Keli, I thank you for this." He saluted sharply, Sefigan style, with both his paws across his chest with his claws extended. Keli returned the salute, human style. Business concluded, she turned to leave.

"I'm sorry, Agent, Keli?" Benimen called after her.

She turned. "Keli is fine, Captain."

His ears waggled. "Then you have earned the right to use my family name. Call me Hamin. I am wondering though... I've heard that HIDA hires non-humans. Do you have a need for a captain who has recently come into a frigate and some money that could be used to fit it out?"

Keli stood with her hands on her hips, and looked him up and down. "Well Hamin. That all depends. Why don't you come with me, and we'll see what's what."

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL INTERVIEWED FOR THE HOLLYWOOD REPORTER MAGAZINE.

THAT EPISODE IS GOING TO SATISFY SOME DRAGON-HUNGRY FANS. RHAENYS CERTAINLY MET HER DEMISE, BUT AEGON'S FATE WAS LEFT A LITTLE MORE VAGUE.

"It’s a seismic event that’s changed the future going forward with these characters."

"Aegon’s fate remains unknown."

"I don’t want to spoil anything for anyone."

"But going into episode five, you are going to see the fallout of Rook’s Rest, which I can’t wait for people to see."

"It’s a massive blow for Team Black."

"The line in the sand has been drawn, and Aemond just crossed that line."

"And there’s no going back. I’m sure there will be retaliation."

WHAT ARE AEMOND'S TRUE MOTIVATIONS IN THIS WAR? IF NOT LOYALTY, WHAT IS IT THAT'S DRIVING HIM?

"I think there are many things that are driving him, but one of them that I loved to play with and explore was this idea that he wants his mum."

"Every time I shared a scene with Olivia Cooke around the council table, every time I looked at Alicent Hightower, I very much imagined Aemond and Alicent sitting on a Dornish beach, far from war, sipping on piña coladas [...]"

"Aemond having become the war hero and managing to make his mum happy, in his eye, so to speak."

"Whether or not that’s Alicent’s version of happiness is another thing."

"But that’s how Aemond sees it. So I think that’s one of his is driving motivations."

"Also, what Alicent does in episode seven of season one, that’s something that Aemond doesn’t forget."

"When they’re all arguing about where Aemond had heard this illegitimate [child of Harwin] Strong [rumor] from, Alicent went back to the idea that this kid had been physically damaged and changed for life."

"She was the only voice that was backing him up in that moment."

WHO DOES AEMOND BELIEVE BELONGS ON THE IRON THRONE?

"You don’t necessarily know what is going on behind Aemond’s eye."

"He’s a very calculative person."

"He’s not just your one-dimensional black cat and mindless sociopath kind of character."

"He is thinking at all times."

"You see that in the first four episodes — in so much of them he operates from the peripheries."

"But, does he even want the throne? (Shrugs)"

HAS HE FALLEN VICTIM TO THE "HEIR AND THE SPARE" RESENTMENT, LIKE DAEMON?

"He feels that Aegon lacks the perseverance to be king."

"Aegon says it himself: He has no wish to rule."

"Whereas Aemond, he’s been studying with the masters."

"He’s been training with the sword, so he very much feels like he would make a worthier king, whether or not that’s what Aemond wants."

DOES DAEMON SEE HIMSELF IN AEMOND?

"That’s a good question."

"I don’t know if I could answer it."

"Maybe it’s one for Matt [Smith, who plays Daemon]"

"But I think a part of Aemond would wish that Daemon saw Aemond in himself."

"There’s so much of his image that lends itself to that idea that Aemond is very much paying homage to a young Daemon Targaryen, with the Targaryen black and the long hair."

"It’s very reminiscent of the rogue prince. Aemond being Daemon’s biggest stan, he would definitely want to live in Daemon’s head rent-free."

DO YOU THINK SEEING AEMOND IN A MORE VULNERABLE LIGHT SOMEHOW MAKES HIM MORE FRIGHTENING? IT'S LIKE THE PERSONAL VENDETTA — WHETHER IT'S AGAINST HIS BROTHER AEGON, RHAENYRA OR ANYONE ELSE — BECOMES A LITTLE SHARPER.

"I very much wanted to portray the image of someone who had manufactured their body into a lethal weapon."

"This kid doesn’t need armor. He doesn’t need to be brandishing a Valyrian steel sword to appear like he could ultimately end those characters’ lives in those moments."

"There’s something powerful in that regard. Me and Geeta Patel, we always talked about the possibility, up to that scene, of maybe Aemond wrapping a blanket around himself as he was leaving, or maybe using his hands to cover himself as he was leaving."

"But we were very-like minded in the respect that this is a character who does not care what you think about him."

"And that carelessness, it’s quite scary."

"Talking about that code coming into place, he cannot be seen as weak at all costs."

"Love in Aemond’s world is seen as a weakness."

"And so he has to put duty above that."

"He puts strength above that."

WOULD AEMOND BE IN THE SAME DANGER THAT HE IS WITHOUT VHAGAR?

"Probably not."

"He recognizes that he’s a young man who possesses a power that no one else has in Vhagar."

"He can do things that no one else can do, and she very much shapes the dynamic of any room that he walks into."

"He doesn’t need to be anything, because her shadow looms so large behind him."

"And so if he’s being threatening, it’s not because he needs to be — it’s because he wants to be."

IS IT WEIRD TO SEE SO MANY FANS CRUSHINT ON YOUR CHARACTER? THEY HAVE BEEN DEBATING WHO IS MORE 'BABYGIRL': DAEMON OR AEMOND.

"I haven’t got social media, so I don’t see it. But one of the results of not having social media is that it produces these beautiful, badass, fun letters from people from all across the globe."

"To read that, I take it all as motivation, whether we’ve had a good reaction or a negative reaction."

"I never take it for granted."

"But is Aemond babygirl? I don’t know."

"It’s a dilemma. What’s the definition of a babygirl?"

I THINK IT'S AN ATTRACTIVE CHARACTER THAT PEOPLE TAKE PITY ON A LITTLE BIT. SENSIBLE, A BIT VULNERABLE. MAYBE THEY THINK HIS HEART'S IN THE RIGHT PLACE.

"Like maybe there is good underneath it all."

"I’ll take the compliment."

WHAT'S TO COME FROM AEMOND THIS SEASON?

"I don’t want to spoil it, but it’s going to be good."

WOULD YOU SWITCH TO TEAM BLACK?

"No, no — I’d want to stay on Team Green."

WHAT'S TO COME FROM EWAN MITCHELL? HAVE YOU GOT ANYTHING IN THE PIPELINE THAT YOU'RE EXCITED ABOUT?

"Nothing is set in stone yet."

"I’m down to the last few for something that I really want and I’m not going to say what it is because as soon as I do, I won’t get it."

"[I’m up for] any challenge, any character."

"I love horror, horror is definitely a genre I’d love to venture into."

[tarjapearce]

PLEASEEE MORE OF YPUR MIGUEL ANGST IM BEGGING YPUUU

This is a bit of Mama's side of the aftermath 💔-

Pt. 4

At every step you gave further from the burning mess, the deeper the knife he had plunged with his words buried inside your heart.

He doesn't love you.

Your eyes closed, almost loosing your footing in the process of stair descending.

He's disgusted by you

Mind kept chanting the terrible truths and doubts mostly of your family planted in that little brief time you had shared. A constant and eternal reminder to not come close again.

You had to stop for a minute to catch your breath so your brain could alternate between weeping and breathing.

Fucking Normal

His words still rang in your head, his tone as glacial as a blizzard. But even so, the blizzard felt safer since you would close your eyes to shield yourself from the snow. But how could you shield yourself from his piercing and judging glare? You had no armor against that cause in truth, you never felt needing it whenever you were with him.

He had disarmed you bit by bit, stashing your emotional armor behind in a vault only he knew the combination of, cause he made sure you'd never need it again, but now, you were left bare before him. Stripped, bare and shunned.

Was this one of his tactics? To make you feel loved, cared for and needed, to then just discard you?

He never loved you

Nausea clawed at your throat as the anxiety drilled and forced itself into your brain and guts.

You went home in a cab.

---

"Sweetie? W-What's wrong? You ok?"

Jess' words only reopened the wounds, fresh blood oozing from them as you clung to her and sobbed onto her shoulder as soon as she opened her apartment door.

"What happened, babe?"

You just hugged her as your breakdown spilled from the seams, unable to hold it anymore.

"M-Miguel..." Your throat choked as you tried to wipe your tears.

"He never... He doesn't..." You tried to hold your breath and voice steady so you could properly talk. But none of it was happening.

"He doesn't love me" You blurted and Jessica's eyes went wide.

"What are you talking about? He lo-"

"H-He thinks I'm just like my family, Jess..."

Your throat constricted again and she held you tightly.

"I know you warned me about him"

Jessica shook her head as she caressed your hair and sighed upon hearing your mourning heart speaking for you.

"I should've listened"

"I'm here with you, Sweetheart."

"He knows our of everyone that I'd never hurt him..."

"I know you wouldn't. You don't have to justify yourself to me, babe. He better apologizes. He needs to"

Your head shook.

"He doesn't want me. I can't be with someone that doesn't want me."

"C'mon, don't say that. We both know you love him"

"That's exactly the problem Jess! I know I love him, and right now I wish I didn't cause he hurt me with his stupid thinking that I'd judge him! He-" You sniffed and gave a shaky breath, "How can I trust him when he said I was just like them knowing that I don't get along with my family?! That I barely talk to them!" More sniffling came as Jess pulled the tissue box for you.

"You... you should've seen the way he looked at me."

You had to breath in between choked sobs to make coherence of your words.

"It hurt and still hurts so bad..."

Jessica's lips pursed in a straight line as she saw the few belongings you had left on Miguel's with you. Your necklace gone too. A necklace she had helped Miguel pick for you, to officially ask you to date him.

Shit.

Despite the anger coursing through her veins like molten lava, she knew that the only thing she could do for you was to be there as a friend. She'd deal with him later. Right now, all she could do was to drive you home, provide you tissues and a shoulder to cry upon, and help you to get the remnants of his presence out of your apartment. Our of your system. Out of your life.

Each item had a little of his essence still etched to them. A couple of hoodies that smelled like him. Faded cinammon and leather like with a tiny tone of your lavender detergent. A pair of his sunglasses that had his greasy fingertips imprinted on the black glass, and the t-shirt you had shared your body for the first time with him.

A t shirt you had begged him to keep, due the meaningful moment shared with him. As corny as he thought it was, he allowed you to keep it, after praising how good your thighs looked when you wore it.

And now, it was tossed to the box of mementos, ready to be sent back to their righ owner.

---

"Is bad..."

"You think!?" Sarcasm dripped, laced with venom on her voice. Jessica sighed and rubbed her temples as Peter was probably rubbing his face.

"Look, I'll see what I can do, ok?"

"You're not understanding, Peter. She just packed in his stuff, she wasn't wearing that necklace. And she was definitely having an anxiety attack when she came to me. I don't..."

She had to take a sharp inhale of air before speaking again

"I give two shits he's our friend. But he crossed the line. I'll give you his things for you to hand them over to him."

"Right. Right."

Peter sighed once more.

"I swear... Sometimes Miguel just..."

"He's acting like an ass, stop coddling him!"

"Im not. He's had it rough."

"And so his now ex girlfriend! And she doesn't go around, treating people like shit just cause he's unable to properly manage and sort his emotions!."

Peter just rose his brows in surprise at her words.

"W-What happened anyways?"

"They went to meet her family. Things didn't go well, I think, and they had a fight back home. She said that he told her that her family believes him a freak. You know how he is regarding that."

"Shoot... I'll try to talk some sense into him. If I find him that is. You know he just... isolates."

Jessica rolled her eyes.

"Let me know if anything happens. She's asleep now. Had to give her some sleep gummies. Babe needs a break."

"Of course. Nights then."

Peter hung up and Jess pulled the box on the living room. As much as he wanted to give Miguel a piece of her mind, she knew this was something he had to solve on his own.

At least, for tonight your broken heart could find some fake and momentary peace. Jessica just stared at your sleeping form and then at one of your pictures with him in your mirror. A small strip of kissing booth pictures, something you had probably bribed him to try.

A soft yet genuine smile on Miguel's face as you kissed his cheek with a loving grin.

"Dammit, Miguel"

Jessica Mumbled, unsure of trespassing your intimate bubble and hide the picture away. She just closed your door and let you rest instead.

[ohitsthemindstuffagain]

Wade: Logan!

He turned around and Wade was there on the sidewalk looking at him with that big eyes of his. And so the annoying bastard was running to him as if he was a girl in a romantic movie.

Wade: Wait.

Logan: Whats it?

Wade: I’ve fallen in love. I’m an ordinary woman. I didn’t think such violent things could happen to ordinary people.

Logan: Excuse me?

Wade: I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so badly.

Logan: Woah… I…

Wade: So it’s not gonna be easy. It’s gonna be really hard. We’re gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, you and me, every day.

Logan: Wade, what are you…

Wade: I wish I knew how to quit you.

Logan: Well…

Wade: I could die right now. I'm just… happy. I've never felt that before. I'm just exactly where I want to be.

Logan:

Wade: You had me at hello.

Logan:

Wade: I guess when you’re young, you just believe there’ll be many people…you’ll connect with. Later in life, you realize it only happens a few times.

Logan:

Wade: Listen to me, mister. You’re my knight in shining armor. Don’t you forget it.

Logan: I think I got it.

Wade: I think I'd miss you even if we'd never met.

Logan: I said I got it.

Wade: I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

Logan: Oh, my god, what are you even about?

Wade: You could make it true. What are legends anyway but stories about ordinary people doing extraordinary things? Of course, it takes courage and imagination… not everybody has that. I may be an old fraud, Logan, but I do know this: something that two people who are in love create together against impossible odds, can hold them together… forever.

Logan: Oh…

Wade: You liked that one, I see. Good movie, really. No, I… just wanted to say I'm sorry.

Logan: What about?

Wade: You know the whole kind of kidnapping thing, dragging you from your world against your will and I'm really dead sorry we can't fix what happened.

Logan: Okay, two things. One, it wasnt kind of kidnapping, you really kidnapped me. Two, I'm cool with all this, even if it feels very crazy.

Wade: You are?

Logan: Yeah. No hard feelings, actually very good feelings. I'm glad we could team up.

Wade: Oh, ooh. Nice. It's very nice. So, I was wondering…

Logan: Just say it.

Wade: You wanna stay at mine for a while? Just till you, you know, find out where you wanna go.

Logan: Sure.

Wade: I knew it.. WHAT?

Logan: I would like that.

Wade: Really?

Logan: Yes and also someone has to keep an eye on you, so you don't get into trouble, right?

Wade: So you're saying you wanna live with me so you can look at me all the time?

Logan: Well. Thats a way to put it.

Wade: Oh my god!

Logan: Shut up.

He takes hold of one of Wades hands, the one not holding the dog.

Logan: Lets see how this goes.

They start to walk together.

Logan: That first line was from 'Brief Encounter' right?

Wade: Do you like romantic movies?

Logan: You will find out I like a lot of things.

Wade:

[my-naughty-writings-and-musings]

Girl your writing style is AMAZING OH MY GOD-I’ve been starving for crumbs of Earthspark Bumblebee-could I request some fun time between the bot and a Gn! Human? Specifically Bumblebee teasing his partner about how much their fondness of his height and size?

Again love your work-wish you the best!

Awww thank you so much!! I had a very long day and whipped up this short and sweet little something to wrap it up, I really hope you like it!

It wasn't fair how little he had to try to rile you up.

Something about how powerful his frame felt when he moved in close to your squishy organic body reduced you to a puddle of need every time, and he needed only scoop you up in his servos for a rapid lift to his shoulders to have you swooning over his height.

That wasn't even to mention how you shuddered when his much larger form eclipsed you in shadow, how the rev of his powerful engine sent your heart fluttering, or how often your eyes drifted to his codpiece as you reminisced over just how much he was packing underneath...

Today he'd made his move early, inviting you out for a walk through the woods and eagerly lifting you to his shoulders after you'd agreed. It was only after the house was long behind you both that he'd asked if you wanted to visit the deeper and more private parts of the forest for a change. You'd known exactly what he was getting at, but with his frame so close to your needy body you'd been unable to resist. Your submission to his seduction had him purring with satisfaction all the way to your favorite hidden clearing.

A bed of soft grass and moss met your back as he laid you down beneath his kneeling frame, your tiny form limp and utterly helpless in his grip as he maneuvered you however he pleased. Blocking out the sun above, he bent down to give you a kiss, cupping half your body with one servo just to emphasize how tiny you were. You moaned into the kiss and brought your hands to his chest, sliding your fingertips over the smooth metal of his armor and relishing in the raw power you felt rumbling beneath. From the purr of his engine to the hum of his spark, the mech had strength like few earthlings could imagine, but that you'd experienced in ways that would make the majority of your species blush.

Taking his time now that he had you alone, Bumblebee allowed you to whine as he pulled away from your lips, his amused chuckles humming through you as he carefully nibbled down your jaw and into the crook of your neck, grazing his dentae over the tender skin in a loose love bite. Your helpless keen of arousal made his engine rev against you, the warm rush of his increasingly desperate vents stirring the grass around you in waves. The force of his desire was strong enough to be tangible in the very air, and knowing it was because of you only made your desperation all the more intense. Grabbing his chest, you tried in vain to push him further down your body.

"Not yet." he tut tutted, removing his dentae from your neck just to kiss it. Arching into the touch with a whine of open desperation, you tried to scootch upwards to bring your lower regions closer to his mouth, but a servo gently pinning you over your chest held you in place. He smiled with desire and affection as you squirmed against his grip.

"Bee, stop being a jerk!" you cried with a deeply unsatisfied pout. It wasn't fair how easily he riled you up, but it was even worse how often he made you wait. 

Dropping his mouth to your collarbone and leaving a series of kisses down your front, he let you enjoy the view of his smug grin in between every passionate peck, so pleased with himself his voice sounded like a purr. "You don't have to frag me."

"But I want to!" you huffed in annoyance, making him laugh in more genuine amusement.

"It's adorable how badly you want me." he teased with a kiss to your forehead, being purposefully chaste to drive you ever more wild. You'd have screamed if he wasn't so good at what he did.

An impatient keen was replaced by a moan when he finally nosed his way between your legs, allowing you to grind your crotch against his lips just in time for him to hum against you. Moaning openly in encouragement, you clung to his horns for support, a move that really got him revved up. A growl of desire between your legs had you fumbling for the zipper, fingers struggling to get a grip in your lusty haze. If you took too long it wasn't unlikely that he'd pull them off you in pieces, but at that moment you couldn't have cared less, so utterly desperate for release only he could provide you would have happily torn your own clothes off. 

No one who'd experienced the passion of a very powerful and very much in love mech could have blamed you.

[taesanluv3r]

pas de deux

hip-hop dancer! kim woonhak x ballet dancer! reader (ft. myung jaehyun & lee hyein as their best friends!)

rivals to lovers, a moderate amount of cuss words, lowercase intended, excuse any grammar / spelling mistakes </3

wc: 7,942

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

“woah look at that, first place gets a cool trophy and everything!”

kim woonhak tells his best-friend jaehyun, eyes gleaming as he looks at the new poster that had just been put up on the school’s bulletin board. “guess that means i’ll be going home with a cool trophy then!” the all too familiar snarky voice is followed by the sound of feet strutting towards him. the boy turns around and is met, much to his dismay, with his sworn rival and arch nemesis, yn ln and her own best-friend, lee hyein. see, the young pair had been enemies since the elementary school talent show. he just couldn't believe that his powerful and energetic hip-hop routine tied with some flimsy ballet. and similarly, she just couldn't get past the idea of her graceful performance having the same score as his repetitive moves. and so, stubborn and arrogant as ever, the competition between the two continued on through middle school and up to this very moment right now, in the heart of their shared high school campus, right in front of the bulletin board. 

“you wish!” the boy's friend says sternly, inflicting an eye roll from the rival girl. “no wait, he’s right…” hyein begins, her own eyes wandering off to inspect the poorly printed poster. “it’s a duet competition this time” she finishes, a finger pointed at the bold writing that very clearly said: 

star academy’s annual DUET competition. pas de deux, or don’t!

“so?” yn scoffs, “i’ll just have to find a partner to beat you with” her words are sharp, her eyes shooting metaphorical lasers through his own narrow ones. the boy just laughs, adjusting the strap of his bag against his shoulder, “if anyone even wants to partner with such a prissy princess like you” his words make her smile, “aw…” she drags out, clutching onto her satin pointe shoes as she takes one more step closer to him, “you think i’m a princess?” the girl’s eyes are big, batting her eyelashes mockingly at the now fuming boy. the silence had become too loud, the hateful pair cussing each other out with just the fiery looks on their faces. “alrighty then!” hyein says, breaking the tension and pulling her friend out of the petty staring contest. “you’ve got a partner to find so let’s get going!” she continues, tilting her head to the side as she drags the girl away. “good luck finding someone to willingly dance with you!” yn yells one last time, catching a final glimpse of the boy’s middle finger up in the air before he was out of her line of sight. 

౨ৎ

“i just don’t get it!” yn groans, head falling against the lunch table as she does so. “why won’t anyone partner up with me?” she turns to her friend who’s busy munching on the mystery meat-loaf that tasted a little too good that day. “maybe it’s because you’re an extremely pretentious prick?” hyein says while simultaneously chewing on her food. “ugh, this stinks!” her voice is hoarse from all the complaining she had been doing, “if you weren’t recovering from some stupid food poisoning, we could’ve done it together!” the ballet dancer whines, playfully hitting her best-friend on the shoulder and receiving a nasty look in return. “not my fault! i didn’t even know the cake was expired!” the girl sighs, deciding not to take all her frustrations out on her friend. “whatever, i’m gonna go blow off some steam” yn gets up, grabbing her pink duffle bag and water bottle. “don’t drive yourself insane, yn. i’m sure your knight in shining armor will come to you soon” hyein assures, still stuffing her face with her lunch. the girl smiles at her friend’s sweet words,

“let’s hope that happens soon, the competition is only two days away”

౨ৎ

“bro fuck this!” woonhak’s feet drag against the marble floors as he enters the classroom. “still no luck?” jaehyun asks, mindlessly stacking up his playing cards into some sort of structure on his desk. “seriously! why doesn’t anyone wanna dance with me? i’m literally the kim woonhak. i’m the best hip-hop dancer in this whole school!” the boy exclaims as he slumps down on a chair, the strength of his words sending his friend’s card structure to fall apart. jaehyun sighs, “dude, maybe if you weren’t such an arrogant asshole, someone would actually willingly work with you. just a thought” he ends his sentence with a click of the tongue before beginning to pick up his cards again. “ugh, whatever! it’s just so stupid…” the frustrated boy hunches over, the contact of his lips against the fabric of his jacket muffling his voice. “why don’t you dance with me, jae?” he suddenly suggests, head tilting to the side hopefully, but his friend just sighs once again. “and what? risk hurting the leg i just finished healing again? nah bro, you’re on your own for this one” the hip-hop dancer lets out one last annoyed groan before he suddenly gets off of his seat, causing his friend to look up at him confused. “where are you going?” jaehyun asks him, wondering why he was beginning to grab all of his things. “to get my mind off things, i’ll see ya later bro” woonhak bids, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “don’t stress so much, man. you’ll find someone soon, trust” 

“yeah, i better”

the kim boy doesn't know what to do. he had tried everything, and had asked everyone but he still had no one to dance with. that and with the competition being only two days away, it felt as though the boys head was about to explode. sulking, he wanders off to the academy's sports centre, his feet guiding him towards the dance room at the very end of the hall. his mind is all over the place, he doesn't even think to knock before he enters the room, it's usually empty anyways. the boy is lost in his thoughts for a moment, just a moment before the sound of piano enters his ears.

woonhak looks up, quietly shutting the door behind him as he does so and that's when he sees her. yn's eyes are shut, far too lost in the music to even notice his presence. he doesn't make it known either, watching in silence as she twirls on her toes, arms flailing up and down so gracefully as she turned. his eyes begin to glisten, the sheer passion in the way that she moves, 'has she always danced like that?' her feet tapped so delicately against the glossy wooden floors, her energy was strong, it was fierce and yet so vulnerable, like the slightest wrinkle in her light blue leggings could just ruin it all. the boy is in awe, eyes never leaving as they followed her across the room. her eyes remain closed, the piano number getting faster as she waltzed over to one end, preparing herself for the climax of her routine. taking a deep breath, her arms extend and a single leg lifts up into an arabesque. slowly, she returns into the fourth position, one foot crossing over the other, and her arms resting in front of her lower abdomen. yn twirls into a double pirouette, her arms swinging to her side as she leaps into a grand jeté. she's done it, her killing move that's supposed to win her all the roses, but just before her toes could grace the floors again, a loud thud had shaken her out of focus, causing her to slip against the ground and fall.

catching her breath, the confused girl looks up to find the culprit. her eyes wander over to the mirror, narrowing angrily as she watches her sworn enemy pick up the bag he had dropped just a moment ago. the bag that had made the loud noise that ruined her routine. yn gets up from off of the floor, fixing her leg warmers as she walked over to him. "what the fuck is your problem?!" she yells, not giving him enough time to explain before yelling some more. "i was literally about to land that jeté off so clean and then you just had to come in here and ruin it, didn't you?!" if this were a kid's show, there would be cheap cgi steam blowing right out of her bright red ears. "and you're not even gonna say anything? what are you, stupid?!" her breaths get heavier, partially from the routine she had just done and partially from the immense anger she was feeling. woonhak stares blankly at her, breathing softly before he finally speaks.

"woah"

the girl scoffs, shes at a lost for words, the singular person she hated the most interrupts her alone time and the only thing he can bring himself to say is "woah?!" yn's about to throw a fit, veins popping out of her forehead in rage. he notices, finally pulling himself back into reality. "no, it's just..." woonhak finally speaks coherent words, her eyebrow raises, unsure of what idiotic thing he was going to say next. "i never noticed how good you are at what you do" his voice is hushed, as if he were embarrassed to speak any louder, and his words shock her, a faint gasp escaping her lips. the ballerina's features soften, as though all the anger had left her body in the blink of an eye. "huh...?" she asks, still taken aback. "no, seriously. i don't think i've ever seen someone dance with so much..." he pauses, eyebrows furrowed as he searches for the right word, nodding his head slightly when he finds it. "passion. i've never seen anyone dance so passionately like that. the way you move so effortlessly yet with so much energy...i mean i hate to admit it but, that's impressive" yn doesn't understand where this was all coming from, what happened to the mean and arrogant woonhak, why was he being so sweet?

"oh...thank...thank you" shes never been complimented this way before by anyone, much less by her sworn nemesis himself, she didn't know how to react and all she could do was just stare at him blankly. they held eye contact for a moment, it was different from their usual staring contests though. this time, instead of pure hatred for one another, there was some sort of peace. after about a minute the girl feels reality seeping back into her skull, she clears her throat before awkwardly averting her gaze over to her water bottle that was sitting atop the wooden shelf to her right. "so um...what brings you here again?" yn asks after taking a large sip of water, her voice going back to normal as she straightens out her back to look at him. "nobody wanted to be my partner for the competition so i came here to blow off some steam, that's all. i didn't know you were in here...sorry about that" woonhak scratches the back of his neck and to his surprise yn laughs, the boy swears this was the first time he had ever seen her smile- well, genuinely smile at least. "what's so funny?" he asks when she keeps laughing, his tone going back to it's usual intensity. "nothing. i just...never thought i'd be talking to you like this. you know...with out the whole cussing each other out every two seconds thing? i guess it's just kind of...silly" yn bends down to pack up her things as she talks, woonhak watching as he leaned against the barre in front of the mirror. "yeah...i guess so" he says, trailing off and not really knowing how to continue their conversation. "anyways, i'm done in here so i guess i'll leave you alone now...have to find a partner anyways" the hip-hop dancer nods, watching as she begins to leave. the door shuts closed and the boy is left with this pressure in his chest and a weird feeling in his tummy. an idea begins to simmer into his brain and the boy is left in dilemma. 'no, no, it's a bad idea- no, just do it! no don't it won't work no-' he sighs,

"ugh, fuck it!"

within seconds the boy is running out the door, "yn!" he calls out and the girl stops in her tracks. "what do you want now?" she asks, rolling her eyes tiredly as she turns to face him. "well..." he stutters, mind suddenly melting into mush as he hastily gathers his thoughts together. "you don't have a partner yet, right?" she rolls her eyes once more, "woonhak, if you're just here to rub my loss in my face just get it over with already!" the girl remembers he's her enemy, the atmosphere going back to it's competitive ways, juxtaposing the peace they had before. "no, that's not it- just listen to me" he practically begs, a side of him she had never seen before, intriguing. she takes one step forward, so as to invite him to continue. "the competition is in two days, and neither of us have partners and i saw you in there just now, i saw your talent and i just..." he rambles for a moment and then trails off, taking a deep breath in before letting it out again. "okay, have you ever seen honey 3?" his question confuses her, "i mean yeah...it's one of my favourite movies but what exactly is your point here, woonhak?" yn raises an eyebrow, beginning to get impatient. "melea and ishani hate each other but they come together to work on that show and it turned out amazing! i'm just saying...your ballet and my hip-hop..." he drags, nodding slowly in the hopes that she'd get what he was trying to say. yn snickers, looking down at the floor as she slowly makes her way closer to him. "are you suggesting we combine ballet and hip-hop and enter this competition together?" she asks and he nods almost hesitantly. she lets out a long sigh. a sigh that worries him a little bit. "c'mon its just one competition, and i know you want that trophy as much as i do" the ballet dancer's ear perks up at the sound of the grand prize, her eyes trailing up to meet with his own hopeful ones. "i guess it would be cool to combine ballet and hip-hop..." the moment those words came out of her mouth the boy felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. shooting her the brightest smile, a smile she had never seen before, "so you're in then?" woonhak asks one last time, his now shining eyes full of hope. yn rolls her eyes as she nods finally,

"as long as i get to bring the trophy home"

౨ৎ

"so you found a partner for the competition?" asks hyein as she walks closely beside yn, their arms intertwined as they entered the school's cafeteria. the ballet dancer nods, "mhm and we're gonna be busy working on the routine, so i'm gonna have to skip out on our fro-yo run today" she says and her friend hums in response. "so...who is it?" hyein wonders, widening her eyes with curiosity as she inquires her best-friend. "i'm...i'm not telling!" yn replies, a rosy tint painting the tips of her ears and her cheeks as she did so, as if she were embarrassed. suspicious, hyein thought, but she just sighs, deciding to let her friend do what she must and not really wanting to pressure her into telling. she was going to find out anyways.

on the opposite end of the hallway, the kim boy and his friend are on their own journey towards the cafeteria. "c'mon man, you're seriously not going to tell me?" jaehyun complains when woonhak shakes his head for the hundredth time. "no. you'll find out later, i'm not telling you- you'll laugh" the tall boy says, stroking a hand through his dark hair. "ugh fine...i wonder what's for lunch" his friend trails off as they enter the large dining hall, stomachs gurgling slightly as a familiar scent entered their noses. the two guys exhale in unison, "pizza"

"look who it is" the voice shakes the boys out of their trance. "if it isn't mr. hip-hop wonder boy and...and" hyein racks her brain trying to find a good enough nickname for his friend. "ugh, i got nothing. loser" she says finally, a hint of spite in the way she spoke. jaehyun rolls his eyes, "hyein" he responds, eyes squinting slightly. "hey..." yn suddenly speaks, looking up awkwardly at the tall dancer boy. "'sup" woonhak responds in a similar tone, an arm reaching up to scratch the back of his head. their friends look at each other confused, why are they being so...weird? just then the boy's stomach makes another loud noise, to which he clears his throat in embarrassment. "well um...gonna go eat, see ya around" the usually obnoxious hip-hop dancer nods softly at the ballerina before turning on his heels and walking away, leaving the girl and her best-friend standing there dumbfounded.

"see ya around?" hyein repeats his words, a look of blatant confusion present on her face. "what was that about?" she asks, looking over at her best-friend who seemed to be staring off into space. "huh? what do you mean?" yn asks back, fixing her posture and the fold of her knit bolero that was beginning to slip down her arms. "yn, do you even realize what just happened? that was your literal enemy and you guys just interacted without arguing or trying to kill each other!" the girl's statement is dramatic, over-emphasized, and her eyes are wide like she had just seen a ghost. her friend just shrugs, "so?" her voice is calm, but there was a hint of hesitance. hyein just sighs, taking a seat beside the girl who was acting so very...

"strange" jaehyun states, taking a large bite out of his slice of pepperoni pizza. "what is?" woonhak asks after swallowing a bite of his own. "you. you and yn" the boy is confused by his friend's words, "what about me and yn?" jaehyun sighs, pushing away his now empty disposable plate as he takes a sip out of his water bottle before turning to fully face the other boy. "you guys just talked to each other without uttering a single cuss word, and to be real with you bro, the last time that's ever happened was like before the elementary school talent show" the dancer rolls his eyes, shrugging as he did so. "so what? i can't talk to her normally for once?" woonhak was defensive all of a sudden, his friend taken aback by his attitude change. "i'm just saying man...it's just strange, that's all"

౨ৎ

"okay i gotta get to practice, i'll see you at the competition tomorrow, right?" yn asks her friend, looking up from where she had bent down to tie her shoe. "mhm! i'll be there...i really want to know who you're dancing with- i can't believe you still won't tell me! i mean he can't be that bad!" hyein rambles, her arms crossed over the purple note-book she had pressed against her chest. yn rolls her eyes as she gets up, stretching softly before fixing the strands that stuck out of the top knot on her head. "you'll see tomorrow, i gotta go now. love you, see you!" the ballerina bids her friend goodbye, walking away towards the sports centre. "something tells me you'll see me a little sooner..." hyein whispers to herself as she watches her friend disappear, a mischievous smirk playing against her lips.

"i'll catch you later bro. good luck" jaehyun tells woonhak, turning around to leave as the dancer boy entered the sports centre. his steps are slow at first, lifting his phone up to check the time as he walked. "fuck" he cussed, picking up his pace when the numbers on his screen registered in his head. panting, the boy finally makes it to the front of the dance room, the sound of faint music seeping into the atmosphere as he opened the door.

"you're late"

yn looks annoyed, her forehead twitching slightly as she paused the song to glare at him. "by like ten minutes! relax a little" he rolled his eyes, dropping his back-pack down on the floor and taking off his jacket. "yeah, ten minutes of our precious time wasted!" the girl spat, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. woonhak chuckled, "i knew ballerinas were all uptight but damn, you really are something else" his words are laced with mockery as he begins to walk towards her. she's fuming, gathering up all the strength and composure in her body to stop herself from pushing him right out the door then and there. "i hate you" she mutters, a pout taking over her complexion as she turns away from him angrily. the boy laughs, "c'mon princess let's start this thing before we waste anymore of our precious time" the condescending tone paired with the sudden nickname catches her off guard for a moment, a pink tint that matched her pink track-suit growing against the skin of her face. he noticed it, smiling to himself proudly when she wasn't looking.

"and one, two, three and four and jump down, pop and lock. there you go!" the boy claps as he counts, watching her moves closely from the mirror. the girl pants, bending down with her hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. "that was good...finally" he smirks sarcastically, a prideful look on his face when she shoots him a breathy "fuck you". yn stands up straight again, her face is red and stained with sweat from the intense sequence of dance moves she just did. woonhak can't help but laugh, "i didn't know ballerinas could sweat" he teased, tossing her a towel in the process. the girl just sighs, "whatever" but that only fed into his ego, "those weren't even the hardest hip-hop moves and you're already struggling" his words brewed a sort of fire in her veins, "i'd like to see you try landing a grand jeté en pointe" she says sternly, staring him straight in the eyes. the boy scoffs, "your fancy french words don't scare me" she takes this as a challenge, a smirk placed prettily on her plush lips as she throws her towel across the room.

"follow my lead"

he watches as she twirls over to the center of the room, even in a pair of sneakers, yn grows an inch taller as she effortlessly stands on her toes. her arms form a perfect circle above her head as she spins once, then twice before jumping off the ground as though she could fly. without making a single sound, the girl lands right back down on her toes, her heels never once making contact with the wooden floors until she returns to the fourth position, her torso bending forward and her arms stretching back like a swan. the ballerina stands back up again, the edges of her mouth cracking into a proud smile when she looks in the mirror to see the amazed look on his face. chuckling softly, she turns around. "your turn"

locking back in, woonhak's face goes from stunned to arrogant in a matter of seconds. his chest puffed out as he walks over to the center of the room. "watch and learn" he says, eyebrows knitted together as he begins to recall her moves. the boy twirls over before trying his best to stand on his toes, stumbling a bit as he did so. his form almost makes her cringe as he attempts at her signature double pirouette, she winces as he leaps into the jeté, if you can even call it that, on the wrong foot, sending him flying almost stupidly in the air. she could feel the punchline coming, giggling quietly as she pulls out her phone and begins recording. the hip-hop dancer is about to make his landing, his breath hitching softly as he begins his descent onto the floor. for a moment it was perfect, the boy landing right on his toes. just for a split second though, before he slips down and falls right on his bottom and onto the ground.

"ah!" he groans, laying his back down in frustration. yn laughs out loud, walking towards him with the camera right at his face. "stop it" he whined, hands moving up to push her away and then to cover his face in embarrassment. "aw, cheer up woonhak! look, i got you stellar landing on video!" she teases, still recording the poor boy as he rolls around in despair. yn laughs, putting her phone away before reaching an arm out for him to grab and helping him up. "so you agree that ballet is just as hard as hip-hop now?" she asks, smiling in victory as the boy massages his sore feet. he rolls his eyes, "i guess...but in my defense that was probably like an extremely professional move or something!" he argues, not wanting to lose to her. the girl laughs, "whatever you say..." yn pauses to have a sip of her water, trying her best to ignore the way that he stared at her. woonhak shoots her a smile before making his way to the speaker.

"now come on, let's finish this routine"

the next three or so hours are spent perfecting their performance, pausing every now and then to monitor their moves and go over every meticulous detail. when they felt complacent with their practice, the supposed rivals sit down beside each other on the floor, their backs leaning against the mirrored walls as they watched the recording of their routine on his tablet. yn's eyes are sharp as a hawk, not blinking once as she goes through every single second of the duet, breaking into a slight smile when she likes something. similarly, the boy's lips are pursed as he focuses in on the video, letting out little hums every now and then along to the beat of the song.

"aye~" woonhak says as the video comes to an end, clapping his hands in satisfaction before turning to look at the girl to his right who displayed the same pleased expression. "you're really good" yn says plainly, her tone coming off a little shy, perhaps because she had never complimented him before. his breathing gets louder, stunned by the sudden praise. "thanks. so are you" he says quietly, the room falling silent as they sat and stared at each other. the moment lasts longer than usual, it felt like the world around them had just stopped. there was something new about the atmosphere, were his eyes always this bright? , did she always smell this sweet? about a billion questions ran through their heads but not a single word was uttered within those five minutes of solitude. just then, the buzz of her phone snaps them out of their daze. yn shakes her head, blinking rapidly as he clears his throat, looking anywhere but at her.

"shit, it's getting late- um, we better go home and get some rest. it's the day tomorrow so..." the ballerina stutters, something people rarely ever see her do, but he's been seeing it a lot recently. the boy nods, getting up after her and beginning to gather up his things. woonhak waits for her, watching as she carefully puts all her belongings in her duffle bag. he noticed the way she organizes, the biggest things going in first and then all the smaller ones. "okay" yn says, de-tangling her wired earphones as she walks up to him, finally looking him in the eye again. they share an awkward smile before the tension in the room started to feel...silly. the girl laughs softly, covering her mouth with her hand as she did so. cute, he thought, but he didn't have the heart to say it out loud. "c'mon" woonhak says, tilting his head towards the door. the pair walked quite close to each other, making small conversation about their competition that was just one night away. at one point he makes some cheesy joke, it wasn't that funny but it sent the girl into a fit that made her stomach hurt.

they were about to exit the sports centre, his hand already on the handle when a figure (or two?) emerges from the shadows. "HAH! you've been caught!" it's hyein, "so your partner is..." and jaehyun. the supposed rivals' best-friends look each other in the eye before turning to look back at the pair in shock, "YN?" - "WOONHAK?" they spoke, or rather yelled, in unison. the dancers' eyes widen in surprise at the sudden appearance of their friends, her mouth fell open to speak but no words seemed to have come out. "look over there!" woonhak exclaims, pointing at the roof, waiting for his friend, and hers, to look away before grabbing yn's hand and running out the door.

the dancer duo laugh manically as they skipped through the cobblestone of their high school, their feet tapping on the ground in sync as they began to slow down near the gated exit. woonhak tries to catch his breath, his hand still intertwined with hers. yn is the first to notice, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to let go. maybe it was the sunset illuminating against his hair, maybe it was the slight shimmer of his sweat, combined with the giddy feeling in her heart that she just could not describe, but it was perfect. something about this whole sequence of events just felt right.

unbeknownst to the both of them, their friends stayed close by, watching from behind the bushes at the scene unfolding before them. hyein snorts, finding it all to be just so amusing. jaehyun sighs, a joyous look on his face as he turns to the girl. "you thinking what i'm thinking?" he asks, eyebrows wiggling up and down as he did so. hyein nods before her gaze falls back onto the so-called enemies.

"they're soooo into each other"

౨ৎ

that night yn couldn't bring herself to sleep, her stomach swarming with a million butterflies and her mind just clouded with anxiety as she ran through the choreography over and over again. woonhak's night was no different, his dinner felt like it was about to exit through his mouth as he silently danced in front of his bathroom mirror. he could lie and say he was nervous to perform, he could lie and say that was why he felt so uneasy, but the truth was that it was her. no matter what the boy tried to do that night, when he tried to sleep, when he tried to dance, even when he so much as tried to think, his mind would go back to her. yn ln, the so-called arch nemesis that he seemed to be hung up on all night.

eventually though, the dancer duo did sleep. the exhaustion from non-stop practices finally crashing onto their tired teen bodies. a loud beep wakes the girl up, an arm reaching out to turn off her obnoxious alarm. yn lays there for a moment, gathering her thoughts before sitting up, stretching her torso forward until she touched her toes. she yawns quietly as she gets off of her bed, waltzing over to her desk and unplugging her fully charged phone. she smiles softly as she skims through her best-friend's countless of texts from last night, letting out a sigh as a new notification from her calendar pops up.

'D-DAY! take home that trophy, yn!'

over in the neighbouring complex, kim woonhak is woken up by his mother's voice. "woonhak! don't you have a competition to go to?" the woman's words wake him up almost immediately. sitting up straight and reaching to grab his phone from the bed-side table next to him, a large grin takes over his face at the countdown timer,

'just a couple hours remaining! go get em' tiger!'

the rest of the pair's morning was spent preparing for the main event of the day. she took a shower, spreading her outfit out on the bed before taking the time to do her make-up so that it was just perfect. the boy did the same, even taking the time to shave the hair he barely even had on his face. before leaving the house, yn checked her reflection in the mirror, she wore her light-pink leotard and her favourite lilac leg warmers but, to feed into their duet's concept, she wore her hair down and paired her leotard with oversized denim jorts and some sneakers. it was different, definitely something you'd rarely see her in, but it made her smile. something about this new look on her felt good, she felt...

"pretty" woonhak says as he stands before her in their usual dance room at the academy's sports centre. "huh?" yn asked as if she didn't catch what the boy had said, but she could hear him loud and clear, she knew exactly what he said. "pretty" he repeated confidently, much to her surprise, as he walked closer to her. "you should wear your hair down more often" the girl could not believe her ears, her mind going blank as a blush crept up against her cheeks. woonhak laughs at her flustered face, smiling to himself as he passed her and over to the speakers.

"let's run through the choreo once more, shall we?"

౨ৎ

what felt like a split second had gone by and the pair were suddenly back-stage, standing amongst a bunch of other duos scrambling around to rehearse once more before the show had to start. five minutes before the show hyein and jaehyun came by to wish their friends good luck, telling them to have fun and whatnot before they left to get to their seats in the crowd. the show begins shortly after, the mc making a few opening comments before bringing in the first few contestants. yn watches from behind the curtains, her breathing getting unsteady the more she did so. "damn...they're good, but we'll be better, right?" woonhak asks, turning to his left when he hears no answer. "right, yn?" but the ballerina that once stood beside him was long gone, disappearing right before his eyes.

it only takes the boy two minutes to find her crouched down behind an abandoned prop, her knees to her chest and her head resting down on them. "yn?" he calls out softly, taking cautious steps towards the shaking girl. "what's wrong?" woonhak crouches down in front of her, his head tilting off to one side in confusion. he had never seen her this way before, the ever-so-confident girl was...

"nervous?" she nods shakily at his inquiry, slowly lifting her head up to look at him. "i um...i kind of have like...stage fright" the boy is dumbfounded, he looked so lost. how could a star ballerina like yn ln have stage fright? woonhak took a seat next to her, "but you always do so well on the stage? i thought you loved it" he speaks, his tone calm and, to the girl, somewhat comforting. "no, i do. i have no problem when i'm on the stage...it's just the moments before it- like right now, it freaks me out" for some reason it ached him to see her this way. the girl who never showed fear being so vulnerable just for him to see, it made him feel something like a burn in his chest.

"listen..." he starts all of a sudden, moving his body fully so that he faced her. "i know we're sworn enemies and everything but i've seen you dance long enough to know that you've literally got nothing to be freaked out about" the boy's eyes are big when he talks, like he was speaking straight out of his heart. "like those duos out there? they don't stand a chance against us! i mean ballet and hip-hop? they won't see us coming" he ends his short pep-talk with a smile, a contagious one that causes the girl to mimic it. "when did you get so civil? i like this new civil woonhak" yn laughs, finding her rival's switch in demeanor strange. "you make us lose this one and civil woonhak is gone forever" he jokes, earning an eye-roll in return. "well i guess we better win then" she says just in time for their names to be called out through the large speakers that synced with the mc's microphone.

"let's go show them. you know, like the french say..." the boy trails off. "pas day do or don't" she cringes at his awful pronunciation. "it's pas de deux. and no, i don't think the french say that." yn teases, "but yeah..." she shoots one last smile at him before they climb onto the stage.

"let's go show them"

the infamous rivals' entrance to the stage is followed by a round of applause and a couple surprised gasps and whispers. getting into position, woonhak and yn look each other in the eye, mouthing faint good lucks before the music began to play. just as choreographed, the routine begins with a somber piano tune, the girl showing off her technique as she twirls into the ballet portion of the piece. her partner gets into character, moving along with her, their arms and legs moving in sync. the piano music quiets down as the pair begin to circle each other, their feet waltzing coordinately when the musical number gets faster and faster. with fierce eyes the girl skips to the other side of the stage, still en pointe, and he trails closely behind her, catching her in his embrace as she gracefully poses in his arms. the music fades away as the pair stare into each other's eyes, woonhak spins her around once and then twice before lifting her up into the air. yn's arms flail up delicately, her eyes shut and her head titled towards the sky. they hold this pose for a beat, a singular beat before the music changes, her head turning to face the crowd with a cocky smirk and a wink. woonhak tossed the girl down, yn landing right into the starting position of their transition into his style.

the dancer duo part ways, jumping around to hype up the audience for the second portion of their routine. following the beat, they reunite right at the center of the stage, shooting each other a cheerful look before the beat drops and they fall right back into their choreography. the hip-hop tune is loud and up-beat, juxtaposing the previous classical number. woonhak gleams as he does what he knows best, his arms waving energetically as his feet glide smoothly against the floor. yn, who worked extra hard to adapt to his style, follows right beside him, the two of them having too much fun getting lost in the music. coming to the end of the song the boy kicked off the freestyle portion, his legs ricocheting as he finishes his criss cross into a dougie. the girl giggles when he bows down to her, offering the center of the stage for her to show off her own moves this time. yn smiles, taking a moment to let the beat sink into her body before she gets on her toes again. the feeling of doing ballet to a hip-hop track was new, but like all the new things she had experiences these past few days, it felt just right.

yn ends her freestyle off with her usual double pirouette, landing right in front of the boy before dropping into the pop and lock move he had taught her the day prior. woonhak's mouth drops at her sudden dance, head turning towards the crowd who began to cheer all too loudly. the dancing pair nodded at each other, signalling the grand finale of their unexpected duet. to the beat of the song, yn spins over to one end of the stage, opposite the boy who had freestyled his way to the other side. suspense builds as the girl stretches one leg out, her torso bending towards it as she hits the infamous swan pose, hastily getting up on her toes, preparing herself for the grand jeté. she breathes in deeply as she runs, building up the momentum for her final leap. yn's legs at a perfect angle, her arms curving over her pretty face, it looked like she was floating. below her, woonhak had hammer-timed half-way through the stage, striking a pose reminiscent to that of michael jackson's as he awaited his partner's landing. about a second later yn lands soundlessly on the tips of her feet, wasting no time before twirling once and twice, finally reaching his embrace again. the song comes to an end, woonhak and yn holding eye contact for a moment before turning away from the crowd, hands intertwined as they sashayed further into the stage. they stopped, turning back to face the audience as they ended their performance off with a deep curtsy.

౨ৎ

"hell yeah!" woonhak cheered as he and yn made it back-stage. she laughs happily, lifting both her hands up for a high-five, which he gladly returned. the duo shared gleeful conversation as they caught their breaths, heading straight to their water bottles to quench their thirst. being that their performance was closer to the end of the event, it didn't take long before the mc's voice struck through the speakers once more, inviting the contestants to join him on stage for the awarding ceremony.

nervously, the ballerina and the hip-hop dancer make their way back onto the stage of their school's auditorium, waving slightly when they make eye contact with their best-friends in the audience. the pair sat down beside each other along with the other contestants, who were complimenting each other and wishing each other good luck. "the judges have decided, and i've got all the scores right here in the palm of my hand" the mc speaks, his mic ringing faintly at the feedback. "but first, the prizes!" he says, moving to the side to reveal the medals and the giant gold trophy. yn's eyes twinkle at the sight, mouth almost watering at the thought of having such a pretty trophy to add to her collection. woonhak notices this, chuckling to himself at the girl's longing expression.

before long, the mc speaks again. this time, to finally announce the winners of the school's annual duet competition. "at third place..." as usual, he drags out his words, inflicting suspense- and impatience- from the contestants and the audience alike. "hikaru and bahiyyih!" the crowd cheers as the female duo get up from their seat, a short dark-haired girl and a taller blonde who did a modern dance performance. they got up on the podium, being awarded the bronze medals before posing for some pictures. "second place..." yn gets anxious, only two more winners left. woonhak grabs onto her hand, causing her to turn to him confused. he just smiled, squeezing her hand in his own as a means of reassurance. "jungwon and riki!" as the runner ups get onto the podium, suspense fills the atmosphere. the ballet dancer and hip-hop one hold their breaths, eyes shut as if to escape from reality. "and in first place...an unexpected duet..." their eyes open once more at the mc's words, it can't be...

"woonhak and yn! congratulations!"

the world stops for a moment and they find themselves drowning out the sound of loud cheers and claps. "dude, that's you! go!" the contestant behind them says, tapping the shoulders of the stunned pair. alas, they get up, finally breaking into large grins as they make their way up to the top of the podium. "congratulations, you two" says one of the judges as he hands each of them a gold medal before finally handing the boy the golden trophy. woonhak catches yn's envious eyes through his peripheral vision, chuckling before nudging her arm making her look at him. "here" he says, letting her hold the grand prize all to herself for the cameras.

"winner, winner, chicken dinner!" jaehyun cheers as he and hyein walk over to their victorious friends. "congrats guys!" the ballerina's friend says, handing them each a single rose. "spent my allowance on fro-yo...that was the best i could get you guys" she said, scratching the back of her neck. "thank you, hyein-ie!" yn exclaims, wrapping her friend up into a big hug. "no problem, girl. and i'm so proud of you- first place!" the boys laugh from beside them, "damn yn, i guess you really do always get what you want" jaehyun jokes, causing her to roll her eyes at him. "what princess wants, princess gets!" woonhak too, teases, patting the girl's head in the process. "whatever...." she trails out, her eyes wandering down to the trophy in her hands.

"what's wrong?" the hip-hop dancer boy asks, his face softening as he looked at her. "nothing....it's just..." yn looks up at him again, pushing the prize onto his chest. "you keep it" his eyebrows furrow at her words, "no..." he begins, pushing the trophy back into her arms, "you keep it. you're the one who wanted it so bad" she scoffs, not wanting to succumb to him, "no you!" their friends watch in silence as the rivals, if we can even call them that anymore, tirelessly bicker, pushing their shared prize back and forth towards each other.

"fine!" the boy finally says, putting an end to their short-lived argument. the girl is about to scream in victory but is interrupted when he starts to speak again. "i'll keep it....if!" woonhak emphasizes the if, the ballerina gulping as he walked closer to her. "if you let good ol' civil woonhak to take you to the movies this weekend?" what was meant to be a clear statement came off as a hopeful question, the boy biting his lip anxiously as he awaited an answer. she wants to tease him, she badly wants to say no, but there's this pathetically hypnotizing look on his face she just can't refuse. "alright. but only if that means civil woonhak is here to stay forever" she finalizes, proposing an end to their on-going rivalry. woonhak smirks, "why? got a little crush on him or something?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows menacingly as she glared at him in annoyance. "shut up before i change my mind about our date" her voice in monotone now, her face expressionless. "that's not a no~" the boy continues to joke, only stopping when she had balled her hands into fists, threatening to have a go at his face. "okay! okay! i'll stop! don't hurt the face- anything but the face, please!" he pleads and she laughs. "so i'll pick you up tomorrow at 6?" he brings up the date again, smiling sweetly at the ballerina who just nods. "come late and i'll kill you"

"of course, princess"

౨ৎ

"who's civil woonhak, again?" hyein whispers to the boy beside her, watching as their friends get lost in their own world, forgetting about the fact that they were still standing there. "beats me" jaehyun says, "but something tells me they don't hate each other anymore..." the girl nods in agreement, a moment of silence shared between the two.

"called it"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

finally finished this fic! i've been planning n writing it this whole week, i can't believe she's finally done! TT reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated! hope u guys enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it <3 also if ure a dancer, apologies for any inaccuracies TT

[ranscutedoll]

Solid Land

Rindou x reader W.Count: 1058 Genre: Angst to Fluff, reader has family problems, incredibly self-indulgent

Rindou didn't know what to expect when you called him. Truth be told you had disappeared on him and he was growing a bit worried. So when he answered the phone and heard you sniffing, he abandoned everything to run to your side as fast as he could.

The moment you saw his car make the turn and enter your street, you ran towards it. You knew that disappearing wasn't healthy, but so far it was a coping mechanism that had been working for you. Sadly the amount of times that Rindou had reassured you that it was ok to talk to him when you needed someone, assuring you that you were not a burden, seem to had fallen on deaf ears once more. But he couldn't be angry with you. You may had been putting on a strong front most of the time, seeming almost unapproachable, but he knew that deep down there was a gentle soul, that longed to be cared for. And he vowed to himself to be there for you.  So seeing the tears that were running down your face pained him dearly.

The moment you sat yourself into the passenger seat, Rindou pulled you in a hug. A hug you realized you needed more than anything at that moment.

"I am here for you, darling. I am here" he comforted, while running his hands up and down your back to sooth your nerves. "Let it out sweetheart" he said as he kissed your temple, encouraging and letting you process the emotions you were feeling. It took a while, but once you seemed to have finally relaxed a bit, you retracted from him with a shy yet grateful smile, which Rindou made sure to reciprocate. He momentarily broke the eye contact to retrieve a blanket, he had brought with him, from the back seat, throwing it around you, trying to make you feel as comfortable as one could in such a cramped space.

"Want to talk about it?...I am not going to force you, but I am here for you, you know that" he spoke calmly, without a hint of judgment in his voice or tone.

"I...Thank you, Rin... I, I guess I have been feeling overwhelmed? My family has been pressuring me in every area of my life and it is getting a bit much. I feel like I am suffocating" you confessed feeling a new set of tears. Rindou knew of how your family was; and he hated it.  He hated how they always kept asking for more and more, draining your energy and motivation. You had to be perfect at school, perfect at social interactions, perfect, perfect, perfect.  Nothing was good enough for them.

"And the control...the micromanaging...sometimes it feels like I am not even an actual human being, that I am just a robot made to cater to their needs" you chuckled bitterly.

Rindou didn't know what to say...he knew that whatever he could or would say could only be words of encouragement.  And such words mattered of course they did. He just wished he could do something to actually help you, other than just listening to you.

"Wanna go for a drive, pretty? And get some comfort food? Or go to the beach?" he inquired. A night away might be of help, he thought. And you smiled, like you always did.  "You are an angel,  you know that Rinnie? A knight in shinning armor"

"Only for you, milady" he said and sealed it off with a wink, starting the car.

You soon found yourselves in the drive through of your favourite fast food places with Rindou rolling down the window to order for the both of you.

"...and a kid's meal, please...Yes, thank you" and that cracked you up. A kid's meal? At your age? Rindou looked at you defensively

"You know you want it! I even told the cashier to put the toy in there" and you laughed. He was honestly so precious.

"I love you so much Rinnie.  I appreciate having you in my life so so much" you said solemnly while playing with his hair a bit. Rindou was your safe space amidst a sea of chaos and uncertainty, he was your solid land.

Once the goods were retrieved, Rindou drove the two of you up the hill and parked at a spot that overlooked the city. The stars above you shining, reminding you of how fleeting life's problems can be.

The two of you sat quietly for a few minutes, taking in the view and basking in each other's presence. It felt serene, calm...rejuvenating. 

You were the first one to make a move to grab the food, and you truly felt grateful

"Thank you Rinnie.  I know i probably said it many times already, but thank you"

"You're welcome, baby. I'll always be there for you, no matter what. Don't let the problems of others affect your life or define your worth. You're priceless to me...now c'mon...open that meal, i wanna see what toy they gave us" you snickered at that. Of course he did. So you complied making quick work of the box and pulling out a small plush toy.

"It's Cinammoroll!!!"

"Bleh...too soft" he teased and you both burst out laughing.

"What, I thought you liked soft things?" you said with a fake hurt voice. Rindou hummed and reached for your cheek.

"Well, I do like SOME soft things" he said and pinched your cheek hard. You made a sound of genuine hurt and before you could say anything, he moved his head to kiss the spot he pinched.

"Are you feeling better sweet angel?” he asked once he had retreated back to his seat.

“Mmm, yeah...Thanks to you” you smiled at him as you reached towards the rear-view mirror hanging the Cinammoroll plush there. “A small present” you joked a bit. You knew how Rindou would react.

“There’s no way that stays there!” and reached to remove it, but you slapped his hand away.

“Noooooo, it’s cute!!!!” you laughed

“But-”

“No buts!” you laughed not having any of his arguments.

In the end, it was moments like these that life felt good and worth living. The night breeze gently rustling through the car, you and Rindou sharing food with each other, knowing that you had found solid land in each other.

---------------------------------------------------------

A/N: If you liked it please consider leaving a like, comment or reblog <3 Have a lovely day <3

[cybersteal]

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕨: 𝕍𝕚𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕪

Tagged by @dreamskug and subsequently ripped off inspired by his, @lokiina’s, @nightcityace’s & @arcandoria’s creative take on it.

V: Hey, sorry I’m- Interviewer: Late? V: Only by thirty minutes, can't be that big of a deal. Interviewer: Maybe it is-

V: Okay, well, I'm here now, on a Friday night, instead of drinking myself stupid like I wish I was. Go ahead and ask your questions.

ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ:

V: V. Interviewer: That’s it? V: Yup.

ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ:

V: Male.

ꜱᴛᴀʀ ꜱɪɢɴ:

ʜᴇɪɢʜᴛ:

V: Six feet. Interviewer: Actually? V: Does this look like a face that would lie to you?

ᴏʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ:

V: You first. Interviewer: Excuse me? V: Hah! Relax, choom, just trying to lighten the mood! Jeez. I’m Pan. Equal opportunity for all. Mostly me.

ɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ / ᴇᴛʜɴɪᴄɪᴛʏ:

V: I was born in SoCal, but my parents are both from Mexico. I have a…complicated relationship with my Latino heritage, since it wasn’t really somethin’ that my parents took the time to share with me in detail, or my siblings. Never had the chance to ask why, but after comin’ to Night City, I realized I kinda missed out on a lot growing up.

ᴅᴏɢ ᴏʀ ᴄᴀᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ:

V: Well, I have a cat at home. One of those hairless ones. But I did always want a dog. Interviewer: Oh? What kind? V: Xoloitzcuintli.

ꜰᴀᴠᴇ ꜰʀᴜɪᴛ, ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ, ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ, ꜱᴄᴇɴᴛ:

V: Whoa, whoa, slow down, Jesus. Uhh…first one was-? Interviewer: Fruit. V: Right. I like grapes. The purple ones. Interviewer: Why purple? V: Shit, I dunno. They taste better? Interviewer: Heh. Yeah, fair enough. Season? V: I love summer. Life slows down a little, people take more time to relax. I don’t mind the heat, neither, ‘cause I can just go for a swim whenever, or go for a drive with the windows down. Cools me just fine. Interviewer: Preem. V: I like those orange poppy’s that grow all over the Badlands. California poppy’s I think they’re called.

Interviewer: And for your favorite scent? V: Right – probably amber. I've used the same brand of amber-heavy cologne for years. Oh, and I really like that one specific brand of tobacco my mom smoked. Interviewer: What brand was that? V: Can’t recall. Somethin’ imported.

ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ, ᴛᴇᴀ ᴏʀ ʜᴏᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇ:

V: Coffee. Double shot. Sometimes triple, if I’m doin’ a long gig. Interviewer: Christ. V: Hey, merc work ain’t easy. It’s that or synthcoke. Interviewer: I’m scared to ask the next question…

ᴀᴠᴇʀᴀɢᴇ ʜᴏᴜʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ:

V: Yikes…like 5? If I’m lucky. Interviewer: I’m not at all surprised. V: The fuck is that supposed to mean?

ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴀɴᴋᴇᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ:

V: No, no. Hold on. I wanna know why you’re not surprised. Do I got bags under my eyes or somethin’? Interviewer: Actually, no. V: Nova. Interviewer: You got suitcases.

V: You’re fine, choom. I appreciate the banter. I don’t need to sleep with any blankets though. Interviewer: Really? Why not?

V: Sub-dermal armor. Got a bunch of other stuff you can’t see as well – keeps me runnin' hot, all the time.

ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴛʀɪᴘ:

V: Aw, shit. There’s so many places. If I had to pick, I guess…Havana. Interviewer: Cuba. You into history? V: Nah, choom. Beaches.

ꜰᴀᴠᴇ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ:

V: Mad Max. Interviewer: You don’t think that’s a little…stereotypical? V: Does it look like I care? Me and my sister used to pretend we were members of the MFP and annoy the hell out of our brother. I called him nothin' but Toecutter for two years. He hated it.

ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ:

V: If you lick a person’s elbow when they’re not looking, they won’t feel it. Interviewer: …huh. Misty: Oh, V… V: It was the first thing that popped into my head, okay, I panicked-

This was a lot of fun to make tbqh. He's such a gonk - that ADHD brain keeps him moving around and fidgeting 24/7 even without the help of caffeine or stims and boosters, and he can talk about himself for hours, the narcissistic dickhead.

Shoutout to my bestest choombatta @klept0kid you deserve to have your name attached to your masterpiece lmao.

tags: @chooh2 @pinkyjulien @meltingangels @ouroboros-hideout @ne0n-rust @netripper @wilxfyre @klept0kid @glitchinginthegarden @nightcxty @shimmer-like-agirl @noirapocalypto @katsigian @wanderingaldecaldo @cyberpunkaddict @elvenbeard @wraithsoutlaws