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ginger-berrie · 11 days

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SO I JUST SAW FALSETTOS LIVE FOR THE FIRST TIME

HOLY SHIT OKAY. HEY GUYS I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING FALSETTOS. LIVE. MY FAVOROITE MUSICAL EVER. I HAVE WORDS TO SAY.

So firstly I of course have to say this musical is fucking phenomenal and if u havent seen it even on youtube you HAVE to. onne of the best musicals ever wrutten. ignore any typos in this my hands r still shaking and im not editing htis. OKAY.

The actors. It was a college level production but the actors were so so talented. My favorite performances were from Mendel and Jason, who both pulled off their roles INCREDIBLY. Mendel was like a carbon copy of Brandon Uranowitz he had his mannerisms DOWN. All the nervous ticks, touching his face, being generally so awkward all the time, even his face was just perfec t for the role. And Jason was played by an adult femme-presenting person but they were so good as him!!!!! their voice fit him perfectly and she also perfectly encompassed Jason;s awkward childlike nature. The entire cast was incredible but those two really stood out to me!!!! Everyone's singing voices as well were fantastic, especially Trina's—she KILLED the high notes and even sung up the octave on a few lines !!!! including the "but still the bastard divorced me" and she still belted the "you must exorcise a devil" even AFTER Im Breaking Down. In fucking sane.

THAT BEING SAID THOUGH. Even though i enjouyed every second of it I do wanna make some more analysis-related directing critiques because im fucked up and evil about this show . im so sorry just let me speak here meaout. Stating right now though I've only seen the 2016 revival (about 2 dozen times) and not the original 90's version (been meaning to watch it just havent gotten the chance) so i reserve all TRUE judgement until after I see it!!! maybe some of these choices were in the original but tbh if they were i still like how the revival did it better. okay i swear im not just one of those ppl who is like "tHaTS noT hOw ThEY dId iT On BroADwAy" calm down. thanks <3

First of all. Some of the scenes lacked energy !!!!! Thrill of first love had no homoerotic choreography!!!!! they just kinda sat there on the couch looking morose and barely looking at each other as if they truly just hate each other and feel ANYthing towards each other anymore at all. But thats not the point!!!!!! They dont fully hate each other theyre just lacking the excitement that they once had and it's been replaced with nothing but disagreements and sex. When Whizzer and Marvin do their gay little dance theyre not just dancing and being gross and sexual theyre also FIGHTING!!!! they still care about each other they just dont know how to act!!!! and marvin's a bitch of course. Marvin was still very much a bitch. But because of the lack of energy in this song there was a bit of a lack of chemistry between the two as well, which carried through the whole show. I feel like it's important to see just how gross fucked up n nasty these two are about each other to see how its truly affecting the other people in Marvin's life. Even their chemistry during the chess game was lacking. They just kinda felt like they really hated each other. Which isnt the pointtttttt. Guh

Trina (or the directors idk) also made some choices I wasn't 100% on board with but they were more subtle. Mostly in her tone about Mendel. Up through Please Come To Our House she seemed to really really like Mendel. Like it was clear she was attempting to woo him. But then when he was proposing, and when they were maknig their home together, she just seemed. Unenthused. I know Trina truly doesn't really love her life, and just needs the stability of a nuclear family, but it was odd to see her not even attempt to keep up the facade on her own. Her and Mendel were similarly lacking in a lot of chemistry because of this, which, maybe to some of you makes sense but to me i do want to see them be close even if Mendel isn't absolutely the best.

LAST CRITIQUE OKAY. This one is BIG SPOILERS if u havent seen it yet but probably if ur reading this far youve already seen it okay. The fuckign bar mitzvah!!!!! There was no acknowledgement from Whizzer to Jason as he was reading his Torah !!!!!!! He just layed there in the hospital bed, facing AWAY from the audience so we could only see the very top of his head (which was on purpose for a quick change but) and he didnt get up at all to thank Jason or even acknowledge him :( for all the audience knows maybe he didnt even see Jason get bar mitzvahd. screaming crying throwing up.

OKAY IM DONE W BEING MEAN HERES A BIG CHANGE I REALLY LOVED !!!!!! as well as some smaller changes that i also really liked or were jsut neutral things i noticed

For most of act 2, up until Days Like This, They had this really cool circus imagery? Now once again idk if this is in the OG, but they had a picture of each cluster of characters set up on either side of the stage, and each of them was doing some sort of circus act both in the pictures and on stage, especially during A Day in Falsettoland. When a character was having their point in the song, they'd sometimes cut the lights briefly and suddenly the characters would be struggling to perform their little circus act, and each of them had a differnt one respectively and they all represented their immaturities/flaws/struggles:

Jason was on stilts, representing his need to grow up and perhaps his perceived mental maturity compared to the other characters

Trina was balancing/spinning plates on sticks, representing her need to keep balance and order in her life

Marvin + Whizzer were fencers because of their lingering animosity, yet newfound respect, for one another. Fencing isnt a dangerous sport, like you dont actually hurt your opponent in it, but it;s still a fight and youre still pointoing a weapon at them. guh. (AND BTW they did this during the racquetball scene and HOLY SHIT. I just gotta describe this one. Racquetball number 1 They had their little racquets as they were singing to each other but then when they got really into the game the lights would cut and then theyd be FENCING each other instead!!!!! and then the lights would cut again and itd go back to racquetball!!!! BUT THEN in the racquetball number 2 when it cut to them fencing ONLY MARVIN HAD A SWORD. WHIZZER STILL HAD HIS RACQUET. GIUUHUHGGHGHGHGHGH.;..,.,/;;'.';.;'[[[.)

Then the lesbians from next door were like a duo balancing/acrobatics act where they were always leaning on each other and picking each other up which was cute but also like. Charlotte would start falling in one direction and Cordelia would have to scrambke to catch her. I always hail them as the healthiest couple in the show but sometimes i forget they have problems too, like Cordelia;s insecurity and Charlotte's stress over the virus of course.

And finally Mendel!!!! was the fucking ringmaster!!!!! He had a hoop and a top hat and every time he was trying to calm down Jason (Everyone Hates His Parents), or Caroline, or Trina (A Day in Falsettoland), he would appear with his hoop and top hat, to show that HE is the one who needs to "control" other people's lives, or at least he feels the need to direct them. Mendel of course needs to feel like he's smarter than everyone else and like he's the only one who can help people. It really drove that home and it was an insane realization to come to. Phenomenal directing choice idk who came up with that but. bravissimo to you

Now miscellaneous stuff i liked or noticed!!!

They didn't have the big ol foam block. just some couch ends that they moved around to be diff pieces of furniture. If you've ever seen Waiting In The Wings' analysis on falsettos you might have seen a comment in the youtube section discussing how in the set design for the revival, the lack of real furniture through most of the show represents the lack of maturity of the characters, and as things get serious for them, more real props and set pieces get added. Like the chess board, the decor for Mendel + Trina's home, Whizzer's suitcase, the whole hospital room, etc. They didn't lean into that with this but i think that's fine! its not a necessary detail in my opinion and they did their best with what they had!!

Marvin didn't hand whizzer the suitcase after the chess game. He just grabbed it, and packed it himself. I was waiting for him to slam it into whizzer's chest or something. but no. Whizzer just picked it up and walked off. okay. Neutral bad change imo

Marvin's performances of What would I do and What more can i Say were. Breathtaking. Marvin actor if you're out there reading this your voice is lovely and carries so much emotion in your solo numbers. I Did Cry. a little bit

god their group number harmonies were AMAZING. All of the cast members' voices blended together so well and it was absolutely beautiful. the whole show was beautiful and i adored it i swear. I jsut need somwhere to put my feelings

THE ORCHESTRA FUCKED. IT FUCKED

Okay its getting late now and im fading quickly BUT IF U READ THIS FAR UR INSANE. This is for me and nobody else i just eneded to feelings dump. tl;dr: i fucking lvoe falsettos this was one of the best nights of my life i love you actors i love you pit i love you lighting i love you run crew i love you sound crew i love you musical theatre

#falsettos #falsettos 2016 #musicals #musical theater #musical review #rambles #ramblings #shiksa caterer #short insomniacs #hypochondriacs #yiddish americans #spiky families #radiologist #intellectuals #nervous wrecks #sigh #falsettoland

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judasgot-it · 1 year

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Ello o/, I really like your writing style. May i req the reader pretends to be a client but actually a member of the agency but the ADA doesn't remember the reader because they have an ability to make anyone/everyone forget they exist and used it to protect the agency also dazai is the only one who remembers them.

I'm so sorry I took so long to get to this request I've been busy with life and all of that lame stuff

Also, I hope you don't mind but I changed it a Lil to be a two-parter with Ranpo as well, I feel like he would figure it out pretty quickly

Scenario: reader visits the ADA pretending to be a client. Dazai is the only one who remembers them working for the agency. (Dazai, Ranpo)

Part 1; Dazai

"So what brings someone as lovely as you to the agency today?"

Dazai was standing in front of you, giving you his best smile. He was holding your hand and reciting his lines as if you were in a play - although between the two of you, he looked like he was giving a performance for the ages.

"Dazai, you can't flirt with everyone that comes into the agency. You know this."

Kunikida had walked over from his desk, making sure to check up on your conversation. He just wanted to ensure you actually got the help that you needed and weren't swept away by Dazai's antics.

A part of you missed this.

"Oh, we're fine Kunikida. In fact, Dazai was just going to lead me to your consultation room so he could help me with my case."

You were covering for Dazai. Old habits die hard you suppose.

"You know, you shouldn't stress out so much Kunikida, you'll get grey hairs. Actually? I think you have some already!"

Dazai took this as his chance to poke around Kunikida's head, 'showing' him his gray hairs. You had to put a hand over your mouth to stop your laughter as you watched the two of them argue.

"I'll be in the room waiting on you Dazai. I don't have all day, you know?"

You walked out of the room, leading yourself through the building. Nothing really changed since you'd been there, although you could spot a couple of new faces among those working at their desks.

It was nice to see the agency moving on and continuing to grow.

The room was a bit different as well. They had finally replaced the old chairs that had been torn in a fight.

They were now a softer, blue fabric. The room seemed more softer, especially for what the room always brought with it.

"So, you finally decided to come back?"

Dazai appeared behind you, closing the door to the room - giving the two of you some much-needed privacy.

The curtain had closed on your little play.

"Well, only to visit. I'm leaving Yokohama tomorrow so I thought I'd stop by beforehand and see how you were all doing."

You looked behind you to see Dazai smiling. Although, you could clearly tell it wasn't a happy one.

"Let's sit down, I feel like you're going to want to know a bit about where I've been. I'll tell you if you promise to keep it a secret, ok?"

You had already moved to sit down on the small office chairs in the room - they were cozy enough for what would essentially be an interrogation.

Dazai wanted answers from you. Knowing him, he was going to get them one way or another - no matter how nice he was about it.

It was hard to stay silent anyway. He was the only man who really knew your predicament. You had hunches about everyone else, but it wasn't like they could escape your ability.

Even if they had this feeling about you, they couldn't escape the gap in their memories. No matter what, you were just a blindspot to them. The moment they met you, they would forget about you once again.

"You want to know why I left the agency, right?"

The most you left behind was a vague sense of unease. Not knowing why you had a sense of dejavue over a certain book and wondering why you know so much about something.

It was a great ability to have for a vagabond.

Dazai shook his head, placing it between it on his folded hands.

"You caught me there. I know how you did it, but I don't know if I can really figure out your why."

You looked to the window.

"Why did you leave when you were happy? Is it some form of punishment? It's got me really curious."

The view was perfect. Nothing would come and distract you from having to respond to the question.

He caught you, like a bird in flight.

"Because I don't have a choice. The longer I stay anywhere, the more dangerous I become. Right now I am just a ghost - I'm sure the president knows I exist, but can never really put a thumb on it."

You tried to wiggle around in your seat, looking as if you were in complete control.

"But if I stayed, eventually the feeling of being forgotten would wear off. It's painful being ignored, but when it happens all the time I can never feel the pain - I'm numb. But the agency?"

You let a watery smile out. Being in the room, finally talking to someone that wasn't a stranger. Talking to Dazai, who actually remembered you no matter how many times you activated your ability.

It was refreshing.

The walls that you had built up were breaking down.

"We got close. But eventually, I saw that their memory would get spotty, and it was happening again. I can't stand to see the people I love to forget about me, I don't want to become a stranger to them."

You hid your eyes behind your hands, trying to shield them from the sun. That's why they were dripping tears. Telling yourself this helped stave them off.

"So you left before that could happen, right?"

You felt an arm wrap around you, pulling you close.

Dazai's jacket wasn't exactly the softest, but you stayed close as you tried to push back your tears. You knew this visit would be hard, that you would have a hard conversation - but you didn't want to break down.

You tried to mumble out some sort of excuse or apology but your words were failing you.

Which left you with nothing but silence.

"Dazai. Thank you for not forgetting about me."

You took the lapels of his jacket in your hands, pulling him closer. You hadn't hugged someone who wasn't a stranger in so long. This was a feeling you definitely missed since your departure from the ADA.

"Y/n."

Dazai pulled away, bending down so the two of you were face to face. He cupped your face with his surprisingly calloused hands, analyzing you with his soft brown eyes.

He let out a breath, in some emotion that you couldn't really place.

"Anytime."

He backed away, wiping away his serious demeanor with a Cheshire smile.

"Besides. It's not like I have a choice in it. You know, you leave quite the impression on people!"

There was something behind those words. You felt it. The way he missed you, how it was unsaid in the air but was shown in the way he kept eyeing you.

He still kept his hands on you, as if the moment he let go, you would once again fade into a burning memory that only he was cursed to hold. Like so many other moments in his life.

A part of you wanted to stay, just for him. The feeling of his hand on your shoulder as he led you throughout the building, keeping you around so you could talk to the members one last time.

But your mind was unfortunately set.

He was nice enough to introduce you to the new members who had joined in your absence - it was a smart ploy.

He was trying to bide time, keeping an arm wrapped tightly around you while he joked around with Atsuhi about some memories they had a while back.

You could see how he tried to make you seem as if you never had left. As if you were always here.

It was a really smart ploy. It almost made you want to cancel your ability just so you could see everyone understand the inside joke that Dazai had said. One that only now you two understood.

If he was quiet after you had gone, staring at the papers at his desk - well that was, unfortunately, a secret only he would know.

Part 2; Ranpo

You were set to depart Yokohama in less than an hour. In the meantime, you were meandering the train station, biding your time.

After having visited the ADA again, you felt a bit lost. You truly did want to stay - but you felt that the ramifications of that action would be worse than if you continued living as a vagabond.

Your ability altered people's memories to the point that they themself would forget about your existence one day - the curse of being able to run away at a drop of a hat.

You can always run, but seemingly never stay. Somehow, they would always forget about you. Either gradually or suddenly, you knew that it would happen.

Freedom was a blessing, but it always came at a high price.

"Is this line A? I don't really know the system around here well."

Ranpo had sat next to you, making you jump in shock.

He was looking at you, waiting for your answer. He didn't seem to recognize you - not from earlier in the day, and not from when you had worked together.

It was a blessing, you supposed.

You took a breath to calm down.

"Yeah, you have the right one. It's not coming for an hour or so though, so you have time."

You hoped he would walk away. Being near anyone from your past always made you hurt in some way or another.

He seemed stubborn though, drapping his shoulders across the back of the bench and spreading his legs out in front of him - like a starfish on a rock, leaving himself out to sunbathe.

"I think I know you from somewhere. Do I?"

That made you stop.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I just mean - have we met before? You seem familiar. I have a feeling I met you, kind of like..."

He put his hand in his pocket, unwrapping a lollipop.

"I can't put my finger on the word..."

He stuck it in mouth with a loud pop.

"Dejavu?"

You supplied it to him, hoping he would go away. A cold, sinking had settled into your gut.

"Yeah! That's right!"

He looked at you, smiling wide. You realized your mistake when you saw that he had his glasses on.

"That's your ability name, right, Y/n?"

This was when you realized how unsettlingly quiet this station was. The announcement on the intercom felt like it was ringing in your ears.

Ranpo was still staring at you, waiting for you to piece a sentence together.

"Do you remember me?"

The man shrugged, settling back down. He was comfortable enough to take up more of your space than you had realized - his legs brushing up against yours.

"No. But I know that I could - if you let me. The ADA is a detective agency, Y/n. You can't exactly run forever when you have us on your tail."

Ranpo didn't wait for you to comprehend what he was saying. He leaned in close, your noses brushing up against each other.

"You're going to keep coming back."

"So. What are you going to do then?"

He said it in a monotone voice, as a simple statement.

"And even you think we won't find you - I will. I'm the best detective. No mystery is beyond me, not even your ability."

He waved up some papers. They were notes, photos and documents.

He was tracking you.

Ranpo smiled.

"I could go for some coffee."

"I dunno. You want to stay. I'm pretty hungry right now."

He was waving the documents around in a small circle, still refusing to give you space.

It was subtle, but you weren't going to get away from him without a chase.

I'm leaving the ending super open-ended, but Ranpo catches everyone in his life in weird ways so I feel like he'd do it this way too cause if you can somehow escape him once you're on his mental list

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #ranpo x reader

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drewharrisonwriter · 9 months

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Is that alright?

Pairings: Henry Cavill x Singer Reader

Summary: You are a musical guest in The Graham Norton Show on an episode that also features your ex-boyfriend, Henry Cavill. You play your latest single that you've written when you were 18 and in love with Henry.

A/N: Implied previous relationship. I don't think there are any more warnings, except the delusional situation that I've concocted. LOL This is based on the song Is That Alright? by Lady Gaga from The Star Is Born movie.

Check out my fic masterlist.

As the stage lights dimmed, the audience of The Graham Norton Show erupted in applause, eagerly anticipating the next musical guest. The cameras panned to the artist nervously waiting in the wings. You took a deep breath and stepped into the spotlight, gently sitting down on the chair and placing your hands on the ivory keys.

With grace and confidence, you began playing your latest single which took you nearly 10 years to release. A song you've written when you were so deeply in love with the love of your life, Henry Cavill.

As you began to sing, your voice resonated with a depth of emotion that captivated everyone in the room.

youtube

When the last note faded into silence, the applause was thunderous.

You took a gracious bow and went over to the red couch where the guests for the night were all on their feet, applauding as well and congratulating you on your heartfelt performance.

Henry, being a guest as well that night, caught your eye as he extended a hand to shake yours. You gave him a warm smile as you shook his hand.

"Y/N, that was absolutely stunning." Graham began when the greetings and applause were over. "This single is truly heartbreakingly beautiful. Tell us about it!" He asked enthusiastically.

You glanced at Graham, taking a moment to collect your thoughts. This was the question you were both expecting and dreading.

"Thank you, Graham." You began nervously.

It wasn't that it was your first ever TV guesting, but it is the first time you were sharing the screen with your now excessively famous ex, Henry Cavill. Talking about the song you wrote about your relationship with him nearly ten years ago is a bit embarrassing on your end.

"Yes, 'Is That Alright?' is a very personal song for me. I actually wrote it when I was 18 years old, so like almost ten years ago when I was deeply in love with someone who meant the world to me."

The audience watched intently, unaware of the connection between you and the other guest on the show, Henry Cavill. But Henry, caught off guard by your revelation, nearly choked on his Martini but tried to play it cool as he waited for you to continue.

"Ten years?!" Graham exclaimed a little exaggeratedly. "Why did it take you that long to release this gem?"

You laughed a little, hoping you looked cool and calm enough.

"The long answer or the short answer?" You joked and everyone laughed.

Even Henry was laughing, you were always funny, and he was amazed you were able to preserve your humor and wit despite the nerve-wracking fame you've garnered over the years.

"How long will the long answer take?" Graham quipped.

"However long it takes the crew to give me five shots of tequila." The studio erupted with laughter, Graham was laughing behind the cards in his hands.

"No, I'm sorry." You began, "Okay. So for real, this song holds immense significance to me, it’s a sort of love letter, you see… and these are the words I wanted to let the person I wrote it for know but I never had the chance to.”

You saw Henry bit his lower lip and look down on the drink in his hand.

"Why weren’t you able to give this ‘love letter’ to them?” One of the guests asked as you were drinking.

“He broke up with me.” You said shyly and laughter ensued once again.

“How old were you again when you wrote this?” One of the older guests on the couch asked, an actor, that you can’t remember the name of but looks an awful lot like Nearly Headless Nick from Harry Potter.

"Just 18. I was so young when I wrote it..."

"You were binge drinking at 18, you were not THAT young," Graham said in jest and everyone laughed once again.

You chuckled along with the audience, appreciating Graham's lightheartedness amidst the delicate subject. From your peripherals, you saw that Henry was looking in your direction, he was laughing, too.

The conversation flowed, everyone on the couch asked their question or complimented your latest single, except for Henry. Graham, noticing how awfully quiet he was, asked, “And Henry, how do you find Y/N’s latest single?”

You felt a lump form in your throat, you did your best to swallow your drink and as Graham asked Henry.

Henry chuckled, looking down at his drink a bit before looking at you and saying: “It’s beautiful.”

“Awfully unfeeling.” Graham quipped with a fake whisper and eye roll and laughter ensued once again.

You laughed at Graham’s remark, too and thanked Henry.

When the show ended, you made your way backstage to hurriedly gather your things when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned to find Henry standing at the door of your dressing room. “Hi…” He said softly. You said a quiet hello and asked him to come in.

“I’m so sorry, but…” He began as you zipped your bag. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

You straightened up and faced Henry, blinking fast trying to absorb what he just asked.

“Uh…just go back to the hotel and that’s it. Order room service, maybe.” You answered honestly, feeling your face turn warm in slight embarrassment for your lack of fun plans for the night.

He chuckled lightly, “May I interest you with a Pint?”

You might have stared at him a little too long before answering, because you saw him lightly cock his head to the side. “Uhm… sure.” You managed to say, finally.

“Perfect. Meet you outside in 10 minutes?” He said with a huge smile, and you only nodded in reply. You watched him walk out the dressing room, the smile never leaving his face.

You were a bit shocked.

It’s been nearly a decade since you’ve last seen or spoken to Henry. But the last few minutes… they didn’t feel like much time passed. You sat down and breathed, you can do this…

It’s just Henry.

TBC...

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x singer reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x plus size reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you

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pufflehuffing · 2 months

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Teacher's Pet (Professor!Sebastian Sallow X F!Student!Reader) 🔞

pairing: Professor!Sebastian Sallow x F!Student!Reader genre: smut, mdni (everyone is 18+) summary: A forbidden muse caged within an ivory darkness wanted Professor Sallow deeply, and he was only a mere man happy to show her self-worth. word count: 7.5k A/N: Y’all professor!Seb has me in a chokehold! I have so many scenarios in my head My masterlist. (Part 2 is up!)

Professor Sallow stood up from his chair, towering over the petite girl standing before him. His deep brown eyes scan her form appreciatively before settling on her flushed face. A small smirk played at the corner of his lips as he spoke. "Ah, dear, come in and make yourself comfortable. Please, have a seat." He gestured towards the empty chair across from his desk. Once she sat down, he leaned back into his own chair, crossing one booted leg over the other as he regarded her with a calculating look. "Now, dear, what is it that has you looking so troubled?" The girl nervously shifted in her seat as she looked at him. She was feeling embarrassed that he had called her to his office, as it showed a sign of weakness in her normal façade of the perfect student. "I'm sorry, sir?"

"Your studies, dear," he clarified, leaning forward slightly and resting his elbows on the desk between them. His voice lowered an octave, becoming more serious. "You have always been a bright student, yet lately... well, it worries a man like me to see such potential going to waste." He paused dramatically, allowing the weight of his words to settle before adding: "Tell me, is there anything troubling you? Anything at all that could be causing this change in your usual brilliant performance?"

Not fully expecting an answer, Professor Sallow continued speaking while keeping his eyes locked on hers. "I know how much you care about your studies, how passionate you used to be about learning. Do you miss something? Do you need help solving a problem or are you being teased by any of the boys in your classes?" His tone softened slightly, conveying genuine concern for her wellbeing. Most professors would have made it clear from the start that their interest was professionally motivated, but not him. Many said it was because of his upbringing, believing that everyone deserved help, regardless of social status or school hierarchy.

“I don't know. I think... maybe I'm just stressed. It's just.. all a bit overwhelming. I feel like I'm not good enough, you know? I always wanted to be perfect, to make my family proud. But sometimes... I feel like I'm failing.”

Silence filled the room as he took in her words, the weight of them clinging onto the air between them. He leaned back in his chair again, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. There was a silence for a while, an eerie calm that only served to underline the gravity of the situation. Slowly, Sallow uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Ah," he said, a soft touch of sympathy in his voice. "Being a perfect student, an ideal pupil, it's a heavy weight to carry. I've been there. It took me years to realise that even stars can falter in darkness." He paused briefly, giving her a chance to understand his metaphor. "You're not alone in your struggle, sweetheart. We all have our mountains to climb. Just remember to breathe, you hear?" His eyes bore into hers, the confidence in them an attempt to transfer his strength onto her face. Despite his exterior show of bravado and outstanding academic reputation, he too had battled inner demons. He understood the fear of failing.

"I used to think about climbing mountains, you know," he confided in a softer tone, looking away from her for a moment. The fire crackled in the corner of his office, casting dancing shadows on the walls. When he looked back at her, his eyes held a distant sadness as if remembering past events. "Every peak I reached only seemed to reveal another peak beyond it. It seemed like no matter how hard I tried, there would always be something more to conquer. But now?" He paused, letting out a sigh before focusing on her once more. His eyes bore deeper into hers, a determined sense of understanding sparking in their depths. "I understand now that it's not about reaching the top, but about the journey itself. The climb, my dear... that's where the true beauty lies."

Professor Sallow leaned forward, offering her a sympathetic smile, eyes twinkling with unsaid secrets and quiet strength. His index finger traced circular patterns on the polished surface of his desk, contemplating his own journey before speaking again. "You just need to learn to accept yourself, flaws and all...and love the journey." Despite the commonplace advice, her heart swelled with gratitude for the man's kind words, words that echoed authenticity due to their source. He reached across the table, carefully placing his large hand over hers. It wasn't platitude but years of experiences he shared. There was wisdom in those words, gentle yet profound.

"Yes, you're... right," she stutteringly admitted, her voice breaking as tears threatened to spill forth. Clearing her throat, she attempted a shaky smile before looking away. "Thank you, Professor Sallow. I... I appreciate your understanding." Her gaze drifted around the room, fixating on the old portraits lining the walls. Many of them were faculty members she hadn't even heard of, their eyes following her movement, observing her vulnerability. She felt exposed, as if everyone in the room now knew how much she needed his guidance right now. Her breaths were sad, quiet; and she felt willing to disappear into the shadows cast by the fire.

His hand was still on hers— big, strong, and comforting. It gave a sense of safety and sanctuary, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions bubbling within her. "Ah remember," his soft voice echoed in her ears. "You're not alone. No one climbs Mount Everest by themselves. You don't have to bear this burden by yourself." He lifted his hand, his thumb gently wiping a tear from her cheek before sliding his fingers through her tresses. That simple gesture sent ripples of warmth shuddering through her body, undoing some of the ice in her heart. The tender touch, while unexpected, was comforting in a way she couldn't describe. His words echoed in her mind, a beacon piercing through the dark clouds obscuring her thoughts. Suddenly, she found herself grasping onto his arm with both hands, tears falling freely now. "I didn't... I never realised I needed help. Thank you, Professor Sallow." He simply squeezed her hand reassuringly and then pulled back his own slightly, gently wiping another stray tear from her face. The exchange felt almost intimate, as if they were sharing a secret kept from the world outside these walls.

"Always remember, dear," he told her gently, his eyes crinkling at the corners like warm summer sun rays after a stormy day. "You never have to do this alone. Not if you don't want to." His gaze was filled with understanding and kindness. Despite the serious nature of their meeting, there was an undercurrent of attraction that threatened to make her heart stutter. But at the same time, that stirring sensation anchored her feelings, reinforcing the sense of safety he provided.

His brown eyes met hers, burning with a warmth she couldn't resist, making her heart flutter in a way that had nothing to do with fear or admiration for her professor. In that moment, the air between them thickened, thick with unspoken words and longing looks. A realisation slowly settled within her, not just as a student in need of guidance from an esteemed teacher, but as a young woman attracted to a man only a few years her senior. Professor Sallow's lips softly curved into a knowing smile, probably sensing the direction their conversation had taken. "Now then, enough tears for now," he drawled lightly, leaning back in the chair. "You're brave for sharing your feelings with me, sweetheart," he began casually, his eyes never leaving the tear-streaked face he attempted to soothe with his voice. "Brave, beautiful and courageous. Always remember, darling, your strength is a rare treasure, even if you don't always see it. And, sharing your burdens lessens their weight."

His eyes swept over her, lingering particularly on her flushed cheeks and the tousled strands of hair falling across her forehead. Male approval was something she rarely sought but definitely enjoyed when given. A blush dusted her cheeks at his compliments, the heat spreading from her collarbone to the tips of her ears. In that moment, she couldn't remember ever feeling as exposed or vulnerable as she did right now. Professor Sallow's gaze dropped to her swollen lips before lifting back to meet her eyes, those bright orbs of hers that filled him with a silent promise of vulnerability and potential discovery. The unspoken tension between them segued into a new dynamic, one that blurred lines between teacher and student. "Keep using that courage," he whispered huskily, ignoring the sudden, undeniable pull towards her, feeling it almost physically.

"I... I'll try," she whispered, looking away briefly before looking up into his eyes again. Her gaze was hazy with unshed tears and unmet desires, turbulent thoughts playing on her face. She hesitated but ultimately offered a timid smile, probably borne from courage alone. "Thank you for everything, Professor Sallow."

It wasn't explicit, but it was enough for him. Her thanks left the door slightly ajar for what could be. The flickering flame from the fireplace bathed his office in a pool of golden light, bathing everything in an intimate aura. Professor Sallow studied her under the shadows cast by the fire, taking note of her vulnerability and quiet strength. He deeply appreciated how she trusted him enough to share her fears and admit her shortcomings. In his mind, real courage wasn't about hiding insecurity but facing it. "You are most welcome, dear," he responded, his voice low and smooth. "You know you're always welcome here anytime you need advice... or company." There were certain connections he never intended to formalise, boundaries he never planned to cross. However, as he looked at her frail form bathed in radiant light, his willpower was stretched thin. Her unexpected admission seemed to jolt him out of his reverie. He pulled back his hands from the desk, steepling his fingers in his growing lap and exhaling deeply.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. Despite their close interactions and shared emotions, they remained at opposite sides of the desk, a barrier between them symbolic of their unspoken bounds. "I could set up an extra tutoring session or help you with your reading... Whatever you feel comfortable with?"

He stared into her eyes, vulnerable and weak moments ago, now filled with determination emulated from his words. His heart pounded like a thunderstorm within his chest, a sensation he rarely experienced. He recognized his own struggle for restraint now, knowing that if anything were to happen between them it would likely cost him everything. Through the thin veil masking her sobs earlier and her present composure, their mutual attraction boiled under the surface. And yet it was clear this girl needed more than just a professor's guidance; she needed someone whom she could rely heavily upon. Professor Sallow knew what she required. Time. Patience. Understanding. More than anything though, he thought fleetingly, she needed intimacy.

The suggestion of helping her academically brought back some semblance of order to her chaotic thoughts. With a nod, she managed a shaky smile. "Uh-huh, maybe just some extra help." Inside, though, the need for closeness practically radiated from her, almost palpable. "Thank you, Professor Sallow." Part of her wished he would cross that invisible line, sweep her up in his arms and whisk her away from everything that hurt. But she knew better. They were teachers and students – it was wrong. Yet, the temptation was there, a burning ember begging for fuel to ignite into a blazing inferno. A small part of her couldn't believe she was considering kissing him, crossing that line. It felt wrong, but so damn right.

The room was heavy with tension, their eyes locked in a silent dance of longing and hesitation. Her breathing became rapid, matching the pounding of her heart echoing off the walls. A piece of her knew she shouldn't entertain such forbidden thoughts; she was his student, after all. Yet an irresistible pull gnawed at her insides. Professor Sallow broke their gaze first, scouring the room frantically for escape routes or an answer to this unprecedented conundrum. The fire crackled away benignly behind him, unaffected by the storm brewing inside them.

His breath hitched, heart rate quickening in sync with hers. This was far from what he'd planned when inviting her into his office. The freckled brunet swallowed hard, fighting his sudden desire to close the gap between them. He stared at her; every uncontrollable emotion etched on his face indicated the struggle within. Her shy beauty smouldered just metres away, looking into his eyes like a moonlight's reflection in water— enchanting, hypnotic, and terribly dangerous. "It's getting late," he murmured hoarsely, forcing himself to look away, only for his eyes to dip to her lips. His knuckles whitened around the desk's edge as if grappling the collar of an unseen foe. It was all too clear now for both of them: his desire for her matched her own.

His gesture stirred something primal inside her, sending shivers down her spine as sanity retreated further. In response, she stood up slowly, the sound of her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She approached him slowly, biting her lip nervously, fingers trailing lightly across the top of the desk, stopping inches away from him. "I... I still need help, Professor," she spoke quietly, taking another step closer, bringing the gap between them down to almost a step. The air around them became noticeably charged, practically vibrating with expectation. "Please..."

His features tightened at the sight of her nervously biting her lip, those rosy petals just a whisper away from his mouth. He could see the desperation in her eyes, not only for academic help, but also undeniably personal contact. Professor Sallow knew he should've backed away then and there. Yet for some reason, he just sat rooted to the spot. His hand hovered over the edge of his desk instinctively, but it was a desire more powerful than his better judgement that guided it forward. With an unsteady breath, he reached out, his fingers brushing hers. Both their eyes locked on their entwined fingers, hearts pounding in precise rhythm, matching their desperate pulses. At that moment, everything else ceased to exist. Her quiet sigh echoed through his office, a testament to their shared need reaching its peak. It felt wrong, yet right, forbidden yet comforting. Professor Sallow felt like he was going up in flames while gaining salvation all at once. "You don't have to ask for help, love," he murmured thickly, his thumb absently tracing circles on her soft skin. "You deserve more than I can give."

She looked into those eyes, usually filled with wisdom but now burning with desire, and felt her world shifting under her feet. Her lips parted slightly as his thumb caressed her skin, the touch sending shivers down her spine. Those eyes, usually so full of wisdom, now blazed with an unspoken desire. Dangerous, daring, and undeniably appealing. For a moment, all sound had deserted the room. Even the fire seemed to crackle less fervently, playing second fiddle to the stuttered rhythm of their hearts. His admission caught her off-guard. "More? What do you mean?" Her voice trembled, laced with curiosity tinged with longing. She yearned for something he perhaps permitted to provide, but she couldn't back away, trapped by the dark pull between them. His eyes darkened further, but his vice-like grip on her fingers softened. "What I mean is," he said softly, drawing her attention back to him with his mournful blue gaze, "I can give you advice, or a shoulder to cry on... But the things you're asking for aren't within my capabilities as a professor, dear." The corner of his mouth lifted in a ghostly smile when she quizzically looked at him, an expression befitting a practised lover. "But as a man?" Pausing for effect, emotion choked through his throat before continuing. "As a man, perhaps I can deliver much more than that."

A spark rose through the air stuffed with tension. Her heart pounded faster with hope from every word he spoke. The gulf between them churned with currents of conflicting thoughts. If only for a moment, she wanted to be a woman, not a student. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between them, she slowly stepped closer, their bodies inches apart now. Her eyes locked on his hazel ones, her heartbeat pounded relentlessly against her chest. His words had unravelled the thin veil of control she still held onto, a fragment of her longing taking her over. "Then how about," she whispered, lacing her fingers through his, "I ask you as a man, and we act as the two people standing here?"

Professor Sallow's breath stumbled, feeling her fingers locking with his. She asked him, desired him, as more than just her teacher. A reprieve from all the societal norms and professional boundaries seemed to wash over them then, liberating as whispers carried by the fall winds. His heart pounded heavily in his ears, his body humming with energy. Arose a sense of forbidden excitement, daring him to explore this uncharted terrain. However, he was a teacher, and she was diverse. An unforeseen stream of reluctance threatened to snuff out their budding intimacy. "Sweetheart, it's... wrong," he replied breathlessly, gazing into her beautiful fiery gaze. Despite the words, there was clear temptation in his tone. "I'm older than you... more experienced..." His hands shook subtly, unwilling to release the frail bond they shared. For perhaps the first time in years, he wavered, pulled by a magnet so strong it reshaped the gravity around them.

Her eyes danced with resolve, each speck twinkling under his gaze, while she weighed heavily on those words. The impact weighed heavily upon them both; one person was entrusting their dreams upon another. The sound of her voice filled the void, light yet firm. A palpable shiver went down his spine when she spoke. "Experience isn't everything, is it?" She questioned, her tone wavering only slightly as she looked into his eyes, unwavering despite the vulnerability etched into her voice. "Age? A mere number." Her fingers interlaced with his tighter, her heart pounding against her chest like a thousand independent drums insisting they act on their desires. Their world, comprised by these four walls filled with his mahogany furnishing and ancient books. Time seemed to falter outside, ceasing to exist. "We both know," she couldn't resist adding softly, elicited by courage's intoxicating nectar. "Breaking rules is sometimes necessary."

Professor Sallow chuckled softly at her reckless statement, gut instincts screaming against her words. Yet there was truth to it, their connection was undeniable. However, his laugh faded quickly, giving way to serious apprehension. He needed to squash these growing, and showing, urges. "Sweetheart," he started slowly as he pulled her down to his level, inching closer till his lips nearly grazed her ear. "We're treading dangerous waters here." A sense of unease crawled up his spine as he inhaled deeply. "You could lose everything, and so could I." With great effort, he pulled away again, leaning back in his chair.

The heavy pause between them felt like eternity, their hearts hammering in sync. Each minute hit harder than the last, both waiting for the other's choice. Their breaths tangled in the dry air as anticipation mounted high. Her heart clawed at her ribcage, demanding something pacifying in return. "Why me?" He finally managed to croak out, desperate to redirect his train of thought. To hold onto the shreds of sanity still left. "There are others... more suitable for your tastes." He knew it sounded hollow and shallow, but he made a feeble attempt at dignity anyway.

Surprise flashed in her eyes, quickly replaced by determination. "Because I choose you," she said firmly, stepping closer still. Her tone held an edge of defiance mixed with assertiveness. Her heart hammered in her chest, a pulsing drumbeat against her ribcage. "And you chose me," she added softly, taking his hand in hers and placing it gently over her cleavage. Her breast pressed against his palm, a combustible mix of cotton and lace. Underneath the fabric of her uniform, her nipples hardened in response to his touch, hungrily seeking contact. Her body danced to a sensual sonnet penned by desire. Professor Sallow froze. His eyes dropped down to where they were connected. He very much wanted this, desperate desire dancing in those brown orbs. Like most mortals, he succumbed easily to raw need.

Professor Sallow's heart shuddered at the mere thought of her body beneath his gaze, hidden by an innocent school uniform. He hesitated, control slipping away with each passing moment. His eyes locked on their entwined hands on her breast, heavy breaths stirring the silent room while he felt her clothed flesh squish beneath his fingers. It was distant echoes of reason battling raw wants that controlled his speech. "Love..." He started hesitantly, reaching out for her face with his free hand, hesitant yet inevitable across. She leaned down into his touch, eyes meeting his own. "We'll both lose if we give in," he said firmly, attempting to be rational. But there was no escaping the yearning behind them. He cupped her cheek, that raw need hitting him like a thunderbolt. A warm flush tainted his own as his erection strained against his slacks.

With a tired sigh, she shook her head. "Then keep thinking that way," she whispered, reaching up to remove his hand from her face. "But there's no denying what happens between us." Her own thirst grew palpable as she noticed the subtle rise of his pants, indicating his rapidly hardening member. The forbidden became even more enthralling under these circumstances. She could almost taste him in the air between them.

His heart raced, pounding out an ode only she could hear. But he didn't let go of her hand, her soft breaths mingling with his ragged ones. "You don't know anything about this man you choose," he protested weakly, despite his body's protest. Yet despite his struggle against temptation, longing shone prominently through his defence.

"I might not know everything, but am I not enough?" She looked into his deep-set eyes, tracking the vulnerability and desire revealed there. Her fingers traced around his while he cupped her breast, urging him on despite her nervousness.

Breathing raggedly, he looked away from her hand. His body screamed in protest but found necessary refuge within him, rarely leaving such control into the hands of others. He felt exposed. Fatigued yet energised by desire that defied words or thoughts. "Sweetheart," he breathed out desperately, releasing her hand and inching towards her again until their lips were within an agonising inch away. "You're a student..."

Her breath hitched, her eyes begging for something more than his hesitant words. He was fighting a losing battle, and they both knew it. But her words had inched them closer to their moving boundary— or shattered it entirely. "I am a woman," she said softly, beckoning him closer with barely there movements until they were an inch apart again, laced in passion that was largely unexplored. Grasping his tensed shoulders, she closed the small gap between them in a slow, unhurried kiss. It started with tender ease yet quickly morphed into reckless abandon.

His protest quickly dissipated, giving way to need and want fueling his actions. In one swift move he pulled her onto his lap, uttering an involuntary hiss when he felt the warmth of her snug against his throbbing member. His lips claimed hers with hunger inherited from years-long restraint. An atrocious act of disobedience worthy of expulsion from both his job and society? Yes. A desperate need for a scorching embrace? Absolutely. Their lips parted momentarily as he unbuttoned her skirt, exposing her stockings and cotton panties. Rapturous sighs escaped her throat as he trailed hot open-mouthed kisses down her neck. He motored his hand towards her arousal, brushing lightly against it before pausing. "Oh, Professor..." Her words were filled with mixed disbelief and anticipation, eager for more contact.

"Professor nothing," He growled low, gripping tightly onto her hips, holding her in the sinful position. "You're mine now." In a sudden bout of bravery– or perhaps self-destruction, his fingers slipped under her panties and between her damp, heated folds; finding her intricate curves with experienced ease. She clutched onto his shoulders tightly as he continued his feverish exploration of her sensitive areas, unable to contain the groan that escaped her lips. Desire roared through them both, matching each touch, each moan and gasp echoing around them. His own need became a tangible pain, anticipation peaking at each gasp leaking from the woman on his knee. But somehow that drove him further; like fueling a flame between them both. "Sir... I want..."

As if sensing her desperation, he plunged two fingers inside of her wetness, rubbing her clitoris eagerly with his thumb. Her thighs trembled, involuntarily clenching around his hips for support. His breath was hot against her skin. "Shhhh... So fucking tight," he moaned into her ear, enjoying the sounds she made as his fingers worked her into a feverous state of need. His own arousal grew more strident, pressing against both of their uniforms screamingly obvious now. The room was filled with the world only they could hear: heartbeats pounding breathlessly; soft slurpy sounds of him touching her most intimate parts.

"Please..." she pleaded with a hormonally-driven beg as he continued to tease and torment her into a state of desperation.

He ripped off his cravat in one motion and tossed it aside, focusing on undressing her. The cotton material of her dress shirt resisted his rough actions before finally yielding from her arms. Her breasts were released from their lacy confines, enticing and plump. He groaned low, his eyes darkening with arousal as her breasts swayed free, thrown about with every thrust of his fingers. "Bloody hell, you're so gorgeous," he managed to utter between heavy breaths. He relished each tremulous gasp vibrating under his touch, vexing her every inch to a delightfully tense symphony. Her head tilted back, exposing her neck to his hungry lips as he revelled in satisfaction, leaving a trail of red marks on her tits. The brush of his slight stubble against her sensitive flesh heightened her senses further. "Oh, please..." Her voice cracked, pleading even more urgently now. Her hips rocked against his hips, matching his relentless pace. Still impaled on two fingers inside her, she buckled against him, greedily pursuing her release.

Professor Sallow gazed desperately at her breasts bouncing and her hazy eyes. He pulled out his fingers with a wet 'pop', drenched in her released juices. Unable to resist the temptation anymore, he slid them into his mouth, savouring her flavour. He relished the taste of her, cheeks hollowed from sucking hard enough before swallowing slowly. The taste of her flooded his tongue and soul– rich, sweet, lively and so forbidden. "S-sir, I need you... So badly..." By now, her words were mere pleas for him to continue. His free hand went back to her breasts, squeezing and massaging them vigorously. His strong grip and calloused thumb rubbing over her hardened nipple in circles sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. His cock throbbed violently against his pants, the fabric stretched thin from its imminent release. Even with every nerve ending screaming for release, he would savour these moments, this taste of forbidden bliss.

Suddenly, his hands dropped from her chest and his mouth, frantically tugging at her underwear. It now strained around her thighs, surely leaving red bruises if he didn't remove them soon. His face tilted down upwards to meet her eyes, burning with desire and hunger. "Cup your tits, sweetheart," he commanded huskily. Her eyes widened before obeying, hands reaching up to do as he asked. His words were oddly arousing; dominance mixed with endearment triggering something raw beneath layers of innocence. She cupped her chest unashamedly now, twisting her hardened tips lovingly. By the look on Professor Sallow's face, he needed this.

"Get those pants off, sir," she whispered hoarsely. Their eyes locked in pure, raw need. She felt his lip marks on her neck, a sweet mix of pain and passion that only fueled their game. Professor Sallow's eyes fell into a heated glance, gaze lazy yet lethally so. With trembling hands, he undid his trousers, freeing himself from the discomfort and need that strangled him from within. His erect member bobbed freely, swaying up against his tweed vest. "Pump me," he groaned.

Her hands covered him hesitantly, wet just like she was, seeking contact they both longed for. He groaned unashamedly as she wrapped her fingers around him but stopped abruptly at her ragged intake of air. "F-fuck... Sir... You're big..." A humid breath hitched out from her lips, tearing her vision away from his manhood long enough to peer at the professor's face to gauge his reaction. "N-not going to fit..."

He groaned, eyes shut tight as she stroked him carefully. Her tentative grip gave way to understandable lust-filled fervour, matching him in a mutual rush. His body shivered with each grip, clutching hold of what was left of control. "It'll fit," he croaked out. "I'll make sure of it." This wasn't mere bravado; he knew if someone could take all of him that it was going to be his student. "Another 'sir' and you're getting fucked in front of the whole school yard," He growled low under his breath, his lips kissing away droplets of sweat from her temple. His words were bordered by darkness: coercive and convincing. She gulped and continued stroking him with more confidence now. Her wet fingers responded perfectly to his silk-smooth shaft with each twist of her wrist, lubed by his own secretion. His oversized manhood felt heavy and enticing in her palm, begging to be consumed.

"Oh...Gods..." He swallowed hard, breaking their gaze from the sight before him for the first time. Her caress sent undulated waves of pleasure through his system. "Panties off, love," he rasped forcefully. She hesitated for the briefest of moments before reluctantly hooking a thumb into her briefs and pulling them down, discarding them unceremoniously onto the ground. It was rapidly escalating beyond anything she thought possible. Yet, there was no turning back now.

He inhaled sharply, eyes fixed on her glistening cunt. Smirking devilishly, he carefully guided her back onto his lap, her pussy rubbing against the head of his erection. A drop of pre-cum leaked out along its width. He scooped her in his arms, positioning her over him. Her cunt, warm and eager against his swollen length, gripped a little of what he offered thus far. Her nails dug into his shirt, aggressively clutching for assurance.

She sucked in air, bracing for the moment. Every sensation was so different than before: him against her skin like warm molten lava breaking apart clouds of clouded inhibition. He grabbed messy strands of her hair, cutting off any potential protest from forming. "Relax," he whispered urgently. She felt a thick part of him slowly invaded her core inch by splayed inch, throbbing and moving into unfamiliar territory. He looked up at her, noting the pained tightness along her brows. He gave her a soft kiss on her cheek reassuringly. "My sweet girl." His voice purred deeply like a lustful lullaby. "You take your time," He continued, stroking strands of hair away from her face. "I'm not going anywhere."

His thrust was painful yet welcome. Professor Sallow took deep breaths and slowed down even more, allowing her body to acclimate around him. His determination was akin to stubbornness; wanting to make the connection undeniably real. He glanced down at where the girl wrapped around him, his cheeks flushed red and pupils dilated. "Fucking beautiful..." he whispered gallantly when he saw his thickness almost fully inside her. "So tight..."

"It hurts..." Her whisper was low and faltering. Her assessment sent a wave of guilt and pleasure crawling down his spine. He panted heavily against her neck, digging his chin into it forcefully. "Hold onto me." He squeezed her hips gently to assure he wouldn't move just yet. Damn it if she didn't make him lose control now. He closed his eyes tight, trying to compose himself to the best of his abilities. "I'll give you a second."

She was frozen against him for a moment, catching her breath with a tremble. But the cock inside her kept throbbing, prodding forward slightly. His words of comfort meant little in her current throbbing haze. Her nails dug into his blazer unconsciously, matching his rhythm of tension and release intensely. Finally, relaxation seeped into those tense muscles surrounding his cock. When he began thrusting again, albeit slower than before, each movement was sheer bliss even through pain. She bit her lip hard not to moan out loud, not wanting to draw attention to their forbidden encounter in his office.

"Oh, you're loosening up, love." Heavily heaving just like her, his voice was muffled by her neck. "Thank God." His grip over her hips blended perfectly with her release; every thrust was so much more pleasurable now and Lord knew he hadn't even gotten started yet. As if reading his thoughts, she pressed into him harder until his cock met her G-spot perfectly. "Good girl..."He let out short pants filled with pent-up desire for the flushed girl exposed before him under the dim light of the fireplace. "That's it, take me faster." A plea between moans, slipping dangerously from every boundary. At every thrust, she responded for him eagerly, arching her torso in anticipation, her channel squeezing tightly around him. "Oh god," she moaned, her voice straining between pleasure and effort. "Y-you're so big." She wrapped her arms around his neck for balance while he continued to ram into her. Her moans grew louder, echoing through the empty office. Her nails scratched at the back of his neck, leaving small grooves in his skin. Sweat trickled down both of their bodies, mixing together, creating their own sickeningly sweet perfume filling the room.

Feeling empowered by her gathering heat and whorish moans, Professor Sallow picked up pace, matching rapid jagged thrusts better suited for animals than humans. He hissed through his teeth, grinding against her sensitive areas mercilessly. His breath became rushed, bordering on animalistic. With each brutal fuck, she struggled to keep up with his pace, yet still tried her hardest. Her moans matched the rhythm perfectly, unbearably sweet. Her body became so hot, almost on fire as his cock pumped into her. "You're mine now,” he whispered hoarsely in her ear. "Ride me, sweetheart."

With his command, his hands grasped at her perfect ass, squeezing harder as if claiming ownership over her entire being. She adjusted herself subconsciously to adjust even in the haze of her arousal. Her clit ground against him every stroke, igniting pre-existing flames further. "I-I can't believe I'm doing this," She grinned wickedly. His cock slammed deeper relentlessly, indicating impending release was near for him too.

"Good girl," He sighed heavily against her ear. "Who said you could think now?" Smooth. The only thing his consciousness focused on was fucking her into ecstasy. "Je-just fuck me..." She mewled against him, her legs clenching around him. Her orgasm was looming closer now. Professor Sallow couldn't resist an extra hard thrust, feeling her clench around him violently, almost as if coaxing for more. "Fuck yes," He moaned deeply inside his own mind. He was losing control. His words were no longer polished but savage, raw expressions of want disguised as dirty talk. He slapped her ass firmly, hearing her gasp but nothing stopped them both from reaching their peak. "This is what you deserve. Taut schoolgirl. Finally feeling me out." Each slap coupled with a deep thrust met with a favourable response from her cunt. As his release approached like a ruthless wave, he told her hoarsely on the edge of insanity, "You're gripping me tight, aren't you?" His length pulsating regularly matched their rhythm.

She froze momentarily but eventually nodded yes. For one evening, rules had to be broken. "Yes," She panted out, unable to deny it. "Please..." She pleaded, her walls contracting tightly around him.

"Good girl..." His voice thickened, pulsating in rhythm to her orgasm. He could feel his release threatening any moment now. "You're gonna feel me fill you up."

Her breath hitched harder, his intention so clear and explicit, leaving little room for doubt. "Please do..." She moaned between clenches. "Fill me..."

"Hold on love," he groaned, his pace quickening even more. "I'm—" With one final hard thrust that nearly knocked the breath out of her, he came inside of her, filling her up to the brim. His seed shot out in hot gushes that splattered against her inner walls, painting her insides with his essence. He groaned heavily against her neck, his body convulsed in post-orgasmic bliss. "That's it, take all of me." His voice was raspy, barely recognizable.

Her own orgasm hit like a storm, seizing up inside her as he emptied himself into her hungrily. It was too much, too fast and wild for words after all these years under his careful guidance. Her eyes rolled back into her head and he could feel every muscle in her body tighten around him while her legs fluttered shut against his hips like a butterfly flapping its wings.

Breathing heavily, Professor Sallow let out a final, satisfied moan, his hands holding onto her slender waist to steady himself. His member slowly began to shrink inside her, the contraceptive potions the school nurse administered all seventh-years ensuring neither one of them would regret this encounter come morning. "That was... extraordinary," he finally spoke softly, his tone marked with wonder even amidst spent euphoria. Wrapped around him, she didn't dare speak or move; their lips met delicately amidst muffled breathing. The tainted tangle of bodies felt heavier than ever. Their kiss lingered longer this time, pure affection creeping in. "Yes," She mumbled against him. Her orgasm subsided only to be replaced by another thrilling wave of emotions. A vulnerable intimacy unbeknownst from him.

He leaned back slightly, catching his breath while she still held him within her core unapologetically. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Now, sweetheart..." He whispered in satisfaction, tracing her hair softly. "Let's fix our clothes and pretend nothing happened." He attempted to restore some order to their dishevelled attire— certainly a challenge for both parties. Carefully, he began to dress her with utmost care and delicacy never seen before. He paused momentarily when he adjusted her blouse, clasping his teeth together. His cock was still nestled within her warmth. "Much better." He added softly upon finishing the process efficiently. Her cheeks reddened from the intimacy. They looked into each other's eyes that were soft and full of unspoken promises. "...Are you okay?" He asked tenderly.

She nodded with a sheepish smile, still catching her breath. "I... feel... funny..." Her voice trembled slightly.

"Maybe you need some water?" He grabbed a nearby cup from his desk and handed it to her. He straightened shirt buttons over her chest slowly, lingering over every movement her breathing caused. Waves of intensity could still be felt emanating from them, now a lustful aura hidden under calming silence.

"Almost done," He glanced at her, gently smiling back as if nothing had transpired in his office chair. The brunet waited patiently letting her drink, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. When she finished he helped himself to a small sip before placing the cup down. His cock continued to twitch inside her, as if pressing against her to keep warm. "Here you go, all buttoned up." He declared almost lovingly, all traces of messiness now hidden under an air of professional dignity they both held dear. "Better?" He asked, his gaze not leaving her flushed face. Her eyes were brighter than ever before, like a sunny morning. Their glances locked again for a brief moment before his hands slowly stopped at his tie, adjusting it properly over trembling digits.

A sigh escaped him with every move beneath her grateful gaze, possessive but loving. Once neatened up, he brushed some imaginary lint off her shoulder calmly. "Almost like no one just fucked passionately here today." His gaze to her softened lightly, a pleasing smirk appearing on his face before vanishing into thin air. "Now let's not let anyone see us looking like this right?" He gave confident affirmation with a prominent tone reflecting back into the instructor persona. "I should give you detention for causing such a ruckus in my office," His half-joking statement did little to obscure fond emotions welling up in him. He helped her off his lap, slipping out from her slick channel slowly.

She chuckled softly, still dazed from their encounter. "Detention?" Her eyes danced with mischief; she moved slightly when he pulled away but steadied herself on her feet quickly, clenching her walls to keep his cum inside. "Well deserved, isn't it?"

A corner of his mouth curved into a teasing grin. "Of course," he agreed. "Do you have any idea how reckless you've been?" His gaze was warmed by her attempt to keep him inside her. "You've made me forget my job entirely." Sallow added almost seriously, examining her. With a thoughtful pause, he continued: "But then again, not many can manage that." His lips twitched at the sight of a sticky trail trickling down her thigh and into her stocking.

"You shouldn't joke about it," She retorted playfully, feeling exposed for more reasons than one. She attempted to fix her skirt and smooth her stockings over the evidence before wiping it away discreetly. "...Apologies, sir." She responded in all seriousness before adjusting herself a bit more confidently after realising what he gave her today. A high level intimacy for both teacher and pupil against the principles carefully cultivated over years between them both. "I enjoyed it though," Her face flushed deeper red when admitting this boldly.

The professor stood up too, pressing his lips against her cheek in a soft yet possessive kiss. "So did I," he murmured against her, his hand sliding down her bare arm to rest on her wrist lightly. "You should probably go now. People will start wondering where you've vanished off to." He straightened his tie one last time before leading her out of his office, holding onto her hand gently.

In the midst of their silent walk, she looked up at him nervously. The question lingered between them: "Will we... do this again, Professor?" He chuckled quietly mid-step but stopped, turning back towards her ever so slightly with a furrowed brow. "Not here," He maintained his weight on her wrist reassuringly. "You deserve more than an office chair... much more." She swallowed hard and nodded, barely perceptible. His words resonated deep inside, her heart beat wildly again amidst anticipation for another lovemaking beyond these walls. "J-just don't make me wait long," She suggested gently pulling away from him once they reached the door. Jitters played around his eyes as he fingered absentmindedly at her sleeve. "Rest assured, ah sweet dear." He promised softly then opened the door letting her leave towards her common room. "Go ahead, enjoy your evening. See you in class tomorrow."

She nodded at him softly with grateful eyes and walked out of the room. The mix between his cum pooling into her panties and the overwhelming emotions contributed to her wobbly stead. With a deep breath, she walked through the corridor back towards the common room.

Professor Sallow released a fervent sigh when she disappeared around the corner. Decision lingered in him. An encounter like that wasn't a one-time event. He had waited years for this— an emotional connection beyond class’ walls... in his office.

One thing was clear, after their rendezvous, she didn't feel alone anymore. Even though she still struggled with self-worth issues because of her turbulent past with a deeply flawed family, she found solace in someone who saw beyond her flashy exterior and vulnerable core. As weeks progressed, he slid notes under her table or would subtly adjust her collar; innocent gestures packed with a hidden message of proof that their secretive connection continued. Even in broad daylight in front of students, they would cast sensual glances at each other. During lessons, he praised her work while maintaining a cold exterior, but unapologetic desire glittered in their communications. His eyes danced to her movements more than usual and his taxing lectures needed more breaks than ever before. In corridors when meeting, he adjusted her robes subtly, too innocent for onlookers to get ideas. His lips would often curl into fond smiles hiding excitement, yet a professional surface remained visible.

Small moments of togetherness merely became part of their routine; unspoken promises lingering between their profound connection, just as beautiful and flourishing as the flowers still blooming in the Greenhouse during these cold fall days.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #bark bark #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy smut

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hilkaro · 5 months

Text

I've played through the DLC for TPoF countless times. Eventually, after some time, I unlocked an achievement I had no idea existed - called Real Simp. I completely forgot about it, but when I wanted to play the game again next time, alongside the memelord mode, another one called Simp Mode appeared. I turned it on, and OH MY GOD, IT COMPLETELY CHANGES THE GAMEPLAY! I don't know about other characters, but with Fox, everything is better.

At the beginning, of course, there's the auction where you beg the announcer to take you every time you have the chance. Then you wake up in a bunker, and that's when the real rollercoaster begins. From my experience, I can immediately say that Chat doesn't matter at all, only Fox's points matter. I'll give you a brief walkthrough in case you haven't unlocked it yet.

Warning: spoilers ahead!

You wake up in the bunker, it's dark, you're tied up. You make noise and catch Fox's attention. Nothing changes here, but your thought process is… significantly different. Someone is in front of me. I focus my gaze and see my favorite beastkin. He looks great, only he wears a mask covering his handsome facial features. Too bad, a great pity.

Fox asks how you feel and if you remember anything. You get several options, including a new one to click on: I meant your bedroom. This leads to a dialogue: You: (sigh), I don't want to be rude, I really appreciate that you fulfilled my request and took me, but I meant your bedroom more than this musty basement. He is silent for a moment, looking at you, then bursts into laughter.

It's the standard text about not worrying because you made the choice to be his co- star. You look around, see cameras, he says no one has ever asked to go with him before. Then you notice the lingerie he chose for you, praise it, and he's happy, standard. For a while, nothing changes; you choose the option to Stay quiet, then Put it back. Fox turns to the cameras and talks to Chat.

This wasn't what I expected from our first night. I'm a little disappointed, you think bitterly.

Let's move on to the foot and there's a slight difference here. Fox: She's gotten nice and wet… What do you think Chat? You (smiling weakly): I'm nice and wet, not only there But Fox rudely interrupts you by sticking his finger into your wound.

Still nothing changes. When you get a choice, you click on Beg him to stop. He cuts you with a knife until you bleed, you cry, standard. At WoundFucker's request, Fox starts choking you, but before you choose the Please, I don't want to die option. He chokes you with a cable until you pass out, then he smashes your face on the concrete, great.

The next game is a gun blowjob and here you have to click Obey confidently, because this time Fox forgot to do the poll. So you do your thing, looking deep into his eyes, he touches himself , nice time. Everyone is impressed by your skills, so you survive, but it's not over yet, because the icing on the cake awaits you. AND THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT. Once Fox holds your poor eyelids, a new narrative emerges. I know well what will happen next…. And you can select the Open Mouth option, but it only lasts for a few seconds, so you have to be quick. Once you manage to click it, this appears: I open my mouth and stick out my tongue. He must be surprised by my reaction, because the grip of his claws on my head weakens and I manage to squeeze my eyes shut at the last moment, just before his cum lands all over my face and hair. But not in DAMN EYE! Fox is a bit surprised, ends the stream and you pass out from blood loss.

You wake up in a cell. He speaks to you with ordinary words. You look around and express the hope that now that you've performed so well, Fox will finally take you to his home. He just laughs and states that you now work for him. He's about to leave when you stop him and choose the option: Please stay, I don't want to be alone. Fox tilts his head, with a half-smile, remains silent for a moment, and exits without a word.

Then, you sit in the cell and contemplate. All narratives about the eye are, of course, omitted. You worry that perhaps you didn't try hard enough, considering Ren didn't want to take you home. Since you care so much about him, you decide to give it your all the next time you see each other.

Finally, they come to you. You dress up in a sexy mesh outfit and decide firmly that you'll survive this stream too. When given the option, you choose: Please go easy on me, and Fox likes it. He's about to start when someone asks: What happened to her? And Fox tells and shows everything. Fortunately, your eye is intact.

You move on to the soldering game, and when he asks you, you confidently reply that it's a soldering gun. You're not stupid, duh. Fox burns a heart on your back, and when he shows it on the camera, you comment aloud: You: Wow, it looks great, much better than a tattoo. Fox: I'm glad I fit into your tastes, darling.

Then you let him set up your arm without any protests, standard.

And the sex scene. Not much changes here except when Ren wants to put a tentacle dildo in your mouth, you have a time-limited chance to click: Open your mouth. Probably just to score points with Fox. Of course, while you're at it, you're pushing against him with all your might, in fact, you've been dreaming about him fucking you. It's a bit shame to be in front of the camera and with that collar with needles, but you don't complain, you take what they give you.

After everything, perhaps the biggest change. Because there's no longer an eye operation. Instead, there's a game with a nail gun for questions and answers. The first question is, of course, about Fox's name, and here, a window appears WHERE YOU CAN TYPE YOUR OWN ANSWER! There's no other option; you type REN HANA, all in capital letters, because you're so excited to finally let it out at this moment. He looks at you carefully, averts his gaze, and… shoots!! Shocking. Here, I think there may be several reasons for doing so. Firstly, theoretically,you don't have the right to know his name as MC, and maybe it unsettled him, put him on high alert or something. Or it could be an option that it was a warning shot. Ren didn't want to reveal his identity to Chat. Generally, the matter is a bit strange because if you answer all the questions correctly, he shoots a nail into the middle of our forehead, killing you. Okay. Some sample questions: What is today's date?, Whose father is my most loyal patron? And the question about the last letter of the alphabet, but it's time-limited. If you answer this incorrectly, Fox mocks you. After this wonderful game, you are forced to remove the nail from your body, which is quite painful but concludes the second show. You lose consciousness.

You have various dreams, when a touch wakes you up. Fox strokes your head. The beginning of the conversation is the same, there are no texts about the eye prosthesis because you have that eye. You ask: Why are you helping me? He explains that Chat loves you, but it is picky, and you may not survive for long. You relax and gaze at him, and he points out that it's not very polite. You ask, Who did this to you? He responds in the usual way. But your reaction is different. You: Are you sure? Fox: About what? You: That if it weren't for that person, you would be in exactly the same place doing exactly the same thing as now? Fox measures you with a probing look from half-closed lids and says it's time for him. Then you have the option to click: Hug him. You do it, and he looks at you surprised. You ask him not to leave yet because you don't want to be alone. He also lightly hugs you and strokes your head. After some time, you drift away.

And the ending. THE BEST.

You wake up in a bright room. Apparently, someone's bedroom. You feel an electric collar around your neck. Fox appears, wrapped only in a towel, wet hair, bangs falling on his forehead. He pins you to the wall, his eyes glowing, and says: I decided to keep you for myself. You're mine.

#shitpost #it's not real guys #just my imagination #i need to stop #im sorry #the price of flesh #tpof announcer #tpof fox #tpof ren #ren hana x reader #long reads #visual novel

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alexturne · 7 months

Text

I'm having a lot of thoughts and idk if I've fully thought it all out, but I needed to get it down and try to work out how I feel about it all..

I genuinely don't think this whole "discourse" is what's happening. I'm sure they just really wanted to do the whole bit with the strings and that's all.

Nothing to do with Alex and Miles being less close than they once were. Nothing to do with their relationship being less profound than it has always been. They're super important people in each other's lives and there comes a point when you've been that for someone for so long that it no longer requires constant reconfirmation. Their friendship is so solid, so deeply rooted within them both, that they don't need to perform together to assure themselves that they're good. There's no question. They're friends, and they always will be, no matter how much time passes, they'll always be there for each other. I have no doubt about that.

And they asked Miles to come along, they knew they could count on him to make it and do an amazing show, even on short notice. And Miles was there watching, having fun, riding the high of his own show, and I bet it doesn't hurt him the slightest bit not playing 505 with them. And neither does Alex not joining him for a tlsp track. And it's just very fun to watch Miles do such a great job on such a massive stage and to watch Alex (maybe) send some inside jokes his way, and definitely acknowledge his presence more than he has for any other opening act.

Miles has enjoyed playing a couple of the more Miles centric tlsp tunes during the last year at his own shows, and he probably just took them off the setlist when they figured out they wouldn't have the time/energy to rehearse and work it all out. And to not lead anyone on and create false hope that Alex might show up. It's been a long time since they've done it. And Alex is the sort of guy who has probably forgotten his own lyrics, and would require more time and brain capacity to practice to get it in order. Or something else that is perfectly reasonable.

Like, I'm all for delusions but I guess I'm just saying that I don't think it's that deep. They're friends. Close friends. Very important to each other. (Maybe more if that's how you choose to view it). And I bet they don't even think about the shows in the same terms as we do, every little thing doesn't matter as much to them as it does to us. Not everything is a "sign" and there are so many pragmatic and logistical reasons that play into a tour like this that we know nothing about.

I bet Alex is exhausted, excited for the tour to be over and to get to go home and rest, I know I would be! Even if he has loved every bit of it, I would be completely worn out and just ready to go home. But I bet they were also so excited to have the strings and they wanted to really have them shine during the set. It was their show. The Monkey's show, and they finally had the chance to let the vision they had for the album come to life. What an amazing end of the tour.

I won't get too much into why they haven't utilized the strings sooner, because they obviously could've and I don't get why they didn't, and maybe they could've skipped the strings on 505 and had Miles up for it instead. It would've been incredible. So much potential. A lot of fans would've been pleased bout that, and I know they'd enjoy it and have fun playing together too.

But they didn't, and even if I would love to know the actual reason, I'm choosing to let it go and assume there is a very logical and reasonable explanation, and not some big dramatic fallout going on. I can be disappointed about not seeing them, but I don't think it "means" anything in the grander scheme of things.

Miles could've played with them (assuming he doesn't for the last one either), and I won't get into that discussion too much either, because ofc they could have done it together, but so many things had to work out and maybe Miles just wanted to do his own thing. Maybe they never got around to having the conversation, maybe something entirely different happened. We don't know.

And yes ofc I'm disappointed that we didn't get to see them together, I won't deny it. I would've loved it, both as a fan of their music and performances and as a tiny little happy milex lover, my shipper and fic writer heart would've been so so pleased about it. But we didn't get it this time around, and that doesn't mean that their friendship is over or that they hate each other or that they're not close anymore or that they don't love each other anymore. And it doesn't mean that we won't ever see them play together again.

I think they would love to perform together again, but I would assume they also have so many other things they love to do too. So many other things that require their energy. Even together, but also just their personal dreams and wants in life.

They're both into the idea of tlsp being back someday, but as it has always been with them, tlsp will return when the time is right, when it happens naturally. That's the beauty of it. It's something that just happens and that's why they both love and enjoy it so much, I think. It's about freedom and spontaneity, it's without boundaries, it can't be planned or controlled, it's a beautiful chaos between two close friends who love to make music together, and who are incredibly talented at it. But they're also artists who have other ambitions. Other projects they love.

And their friendship doesn't depend on tlsp releasing new music. It is a product of their beautiful friendship, but the friendship came first. Them not writing together right now actually says absolutely nothing about the current state of their friendship. Which we have seen signs of being as healthy and strong as ever, if a bit more private than it used to be. And that's fine. They're super private people, and honestly I would have much more reason to worry for their friendship if they suddenly started posting about it all the time and parading each other around. They're not like that and they never will be and that's fine.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand.

Yes, they're being dumbasses - both the band and our dear milex boys, throughout the whole tour - with not utilizing the strings earlier on the tour, not playing more of The Car on the setlist, not skipping more of AM, not taking advantage of ALL THAT POTENTIAL. They could've done the strings for Glastonbury, it would've been perfect. They could've easily included Miles in a few more gigs (it was sooooo lovely when they did), these last ones in particular, and it would've been so beautiful and meaningful and they would've had so much fun with it - they could've made so many better decisions than they did. The whole tour came with some question marks. We can all agree on that. They're being stupid and they seem to not always think very far ahead, and sometimes forget to use their brains, and I assume that's why they end up not having time to rehearse and work things out sooner, and that is honestly just so dumb of them. They could be doing so much more and I hope some things will improve next time.

But either way - the tour is over and I've loved every second of it.

The new album is super gorgeous and it finally got the string section it deserved. What an amazing finish to the tour. I sincerely hope they will be bringing a lot of The Car back next time around.

Deeply in my own heart I wish we would see Alex and Miles on stage together again soon, but at the same time, I wish Miles the very best with his own work, he truly deserves all the success in the world. And I hope Alex will get some well-earned rest and time off. I hope he will go free of paparazzi and find peace and quiet after this insanely taxing year, and I hope he finds bunches and bunches of inspiration for new songs. I hope tlsp will be back sooner rather than later and I hope they're happy.

I've loved getting to follow the tour, I've loved being on here freaking out with you guys, and I will miss getting to see their little faces everyday. Truly.

But I think it's so well deserved for them to take a break and I hope they will be back soon.

#this is so rambly and maybe ill backtrack later if my thoughts and feelings change #but i feel like its good to try and be reasonable about it all #and try to see it from their perspective #just to keep our own hearts calm too #assuming he doesn't join for the last show either #judt trying to clear my own head #arctic monkeys

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wen-kexing-apologist · 4 months

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Top 5 Emotional Outbursts

See if no one else on this website has my back, I know Ben has my back because he is giving me a chance to talk about my boy Patts once more

TOP 5 EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS OF 2023

Patts, La Pluie

gif by the beautiful, marvelous @liyazaki

Episode 10 was just an absolute masterclass in emotional outbursts. The fight between Lomfon and Patts, then Patts and Tai, then Lomfon and Tien, then Patts and Tai again. Like goddamn, finally thank fuck, Patts is able to let out years worth of frustration and pain at Tai's silence was just so beautiful, and cathartic, and necessary. What an absolutely incredible moment to not only witness but experience. Patts has been so kind, so patient, so forgiving, and it was time for all the pain that he's been letting simmer for two years out. Good! For! Him!

Uea and His Bio Family, Bed Friend

There are few characters in this world I hate more than Uea's mother, and it was so so so so so so wonderful to see Uea finally give her a piece of his mind. I am so proud of him for speaking his mind, standing his ground, and getting the ever living fuck out of his bio family's house. Too personal, sorry, but this fight hit especially well for me because I too have had a parent say they'd live perfectly happily without me, and it was great vindication of my reaction to that to see Uea GTFO immediately after.

Secondarily, James' sobbing screams at the beginning of episode 4 and in the flashback of him getting dragged in to the bathroom when he was an adult have never left my brain. James absolutely crushed those scenes and this was going to be my Bed Friend pick before I remembered this fight exists.

Jim and Li Ming // Heart and His Parents, Moonlight Chicken

I don't think I am exaggerating when I say that Jim and Li Ming's relationship dynamics is one of my favorite of all time. Aof is such an incredible screenwriter/director and I feel like he's able to make such realistic depictions of families in all their complicated glory. The screaming match between Jim and Li Ming is SO good, and really is what solidified my appreciation for Fourth's acting skills because there was a fucking storm cloud on his brow. Happy fucking birthday to you Uncle Jim I guess. Poor fucker.

And then of course, one of the first ever posts I made in the BL Sphere of tumblr was a full essay on Heart's confrontation which I loved so motherfucking much. Once again a much needed fight with lots of interesting, complicated emotions flying around the room.

Kiyoi and Hira, Utsukushii Kare Season 2

gif by @itsallaboutbl

"I'm sorry that I like you" one of the best moments of the year for me by far. This fight between Kiyoi and Hira was desperately, and I mean desperately needed. I know changing will be a slow process for the two of them, and even in Eternal they are no where near where they need to be, but Hira needs/needed to cut this Pebble to a God bullshit out and I am so glad that Kiyoi was able to call him on it. Also from a performance standpoint, Yagi Yusei had his work cut out for him as a scene partner to Hagiwara who absolutely bodied his role as Hira. In season one Yagi did not need to do all that much for his performance because we didn't know as much about Kiyoi until closer to the end, but that cannot be the case for Season 2 and Yagi knocked it out of the motherfucking park.

Sunshine and Q, 7 Days Before Valentine

Okay, almost positive this isn't a BL but I love when people structure TV shows like stage plays, and there was a fight between Sunshine and Q in like Episode 4 or 5 where they were shouting over each other and it just felt so real and the dead silence that hit the room when Q said something that struck a chord with Sunshine was expertly handled, and some of the best work I've seen out of Atom the whole show. I don't think anyone gifed it so I can't put the scene in, but I think you talked about it in your Stray Thoughts @bengiyo

And just cause I wanna, the Top 5 Emotional Outbursts of the pre-2023 shows I watched this year:

In and Wang's fight in 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us, Ep 8

Gav sobbing about his aunt in Gameboys (the movie, i think?)

Pran sobbing in to Pat's shoulder in Bad Buddy, Ep 10

Tarn's fight with Teh in I Told Sunset About You, Ep 4 (shout out to Smile there because I still cannot believe it was the first thing she filmed on set)

Shiro being terrified Kenji was dying and Kenji being worried Shiro was dying and the resulting clownery from them blurting that out in What Did You Eat Yesterday? I think it was the New Year's special.

ASK ME MY TOP 5 OF ANYTHING BL 2023

#best of bl 2023 #ask game #la pluie the series #bed friend #moonlight chicken #utsukushii kare #7 days before valentine #180 degree longitude passes through us #gameboys #gameboys the series #bad buddy #bbs #i told sunset about you #itsay #what did you eat yesterday?#kinou nani tabeta?

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rorywritesjunk · 6 months

Text

there'll be space for you always in my harmony

Buggy finds out you have a hidden talent. Rating: PG. It's a little fluffy. Warning: None for once. Pining, music, it's a soft fic. A good friend plays the mandolin but I couldn't tell you anything about that instrument so I just had to think of what I've seen her do when she plays. A/N: I had fun writing this. It's borderline a song fic without being a song fic. I wanted a chance to include some of my favorite musicians into this because they are both fantastic musicians. There are 3 songs used in this story, and in order they are "Sailor's Advice" by Alexander James Adams, "The Bow's Turned Back" by Alexander James Adams , and "To My Valentine" by S. J. Tucker, of which the title of this story comes from as well. I wrote it from an Anon's request and hope you like it!

You appreciated the moments when the tent was empty of the crew, the audience, and even the Captain. It was overwhelming at times, sometimes getting to be a bit too much for you when there was so much noise and lights flashing that it was almost hard to concentrate. You were more of a behind the scenes member of the crew, not wanting to be out in the spotlight entertaining people. You were happy to help fix props and costumes than wear them or use them for the crowds.

However, being in the empty tent as night fell was your favorite time. You sat on one of the benches, smiling brightly as you unlocked the case that held one of your few treasures. You didn’t bring it out as often as you would like, not wanting others to see you with it in case they tried to pressure you to use it in front of them.

Carefully, you pulled the mandolin from its case, admiring the 8 stringed instrument before slinging the strap over your shoulder and strumming a few chords. It just needed a tiny bit of tuning, which was easy enough. You hummed softly, making sure the chords matched the pitch of your voice as you twisted the tuners carefully. It took a few minutes before it was perfect.

Occasionally you’d look up, looking for the shadows of any approaching performer or crew. This was something you wanted to keep secret as long as possible, but you didn’t want to have to hide the mandolin away for very long. It needed to be out, to breathe, and to be played, even if it was just for you.

You racked your brain for a tune to play. Something fun, easy, with words you didn’t have to think too hard about. When something popped in your head, you grinned and started playing the tune before singing the lyrics softly.

“Many’s the port and many’s the town Many’s a soft place to lay your head down-”

“Hey!”

You froze when you heard your Captain approaching. There was no time to put the instrument away so you sat there, holding it tightly in your hand as your hand froze over the strings. Maybe he wouldn’t realize you were actually playing if you didn’t move.

“Captain?” You replied carefully. “What can I do for you?”

He stood in front of you, arms crossed as he looked from the instrument to your face. He frowned. “Since when can you play?”

Okay, he wasn’t easily fooled. Your shoulders dropped a bit as you started to put it away. “Sorry if I was loud, Captain. I’ll put it away.”

“I didn’t tell you to do that.” He retorted. “I asked how long you’ve been playing for. Why are you holding out on me like that?”

You hesitated as you looked up at him. “I don’t… like playing in front of people. It’s more of a personal hobby than anything, Captain.”

“So?” Buggy plopped himself beside you, looking over the instrument carefully, keeping his hands to himself for now. “Keep playing. I want to hear it, so play for me.”

“B-But-”

“I’m not people, I’m just one person.” He said. “Captain’s orders, keep playing.”

You nodded and started the song up again; Buggy was watching you as you played, but suddenly gestured at you. Aw damn, did he want you to sing too? You hesitated but listened to his silent request. You didn’t want to get reprimanded for denying the Captain’s orders.

“But finding the right one’s a hard thing to do Chart your course as you may, but you might not pull through-”

Occasionally you’d glance over at him as you sang and played. He wasn’t looking at you as he listened, his head nodding along to the music while tapping his foot to the beat. It was nice seeing the Captain so… relaxed. You were used to seeing an intense, passionate side of him during rehearsals and raids, when he wanted everything to go right. Whenever possible you’d try to give him an encouraging smile whenever he looked your way, but you were certain it didn’t register to him as anything other than friendly.

Honestly you kind of hated yourself for falling in love with your Captain. You had tried to kid yourself that it was a crush, nothing more, but it never went away over the last two years of working for him. And if anyone asked why you felt that way, you wouldn’t know what to say. Then again, is it any of their business?

When you finished the song you reached for the case to put the instrument away but Buggy grabbed your arm. He didn’t say anything, squeezing your arm for a moment before pulling his hand away. You just nodded and started up another tune for him, playing the next one that came to mind.

“When the night turns lonely, I think of you only As I’m rocked on waves of the storm Your arms around me, your charms astound me You kiss is keeping me warm-”

He moved closer to you, your shoulders touching now as he listened. You were questioning why you chose this song. A song about going home to the one you love, the one you spent time away from as you sailed the seas. You used to wonder what that would be like, coming home after time away only to return to the warm arms of your beloved. As you got older, and since joining Buggy’s crew, you stopped wondering. You wanted to be in his arms, no one else's.

“Keep a light burnin’ I am returnin’ I’ll be home by the three quarter moon- I’ll be in your arms very soon- With every tall wave that we breach I come that much closer to your loving reach-”

You stumbled just a bit over the words to the last verse and chorus, but Buggy didn’t seem to notice or care. You finished the song and looked at him, waiting to see if he wanted another round or if he was done. He was looking at you curiously before his gaze went to your mandolin. Carefully he reached out and touched the strings, letting his fingertips strum over them. The strings hummed, making a noise but no song.

“Do you know any songs that aren’t about the sea?” He asked quietly. You nodded hastily. “Play one of them for me.”

“O-Okay, Captain.” You really didn’t know what else to do. You were sitting captive with him, indulging in his musical requests, even if they weren’t dirges or loud songs, he still wanted to hear you play. You cleared your throat as you started up the tune. “Um, I still… don’t want to play in front of crowds, Captain.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.” Buggy replied with a shrug as he watched your fingers pick at the chords. “Just play for me.”

Your heart sang and you turned red. You really hoped he didn’t notice that as you started up the lyrics, looking down at your feet as you played.

“from far away I'm coveting your white violet skin and missing the fall of your hair worlds away I'm courting your everything and giving you all that i dare”

He took his Captain’s hat off and removed his bandana; your eyes widened at the sight, missing a few chords as you watched his hair fall down his back and over his shoulders. What was happening? He closed his eyes as he listened, running his fingers through his hair to loosen it up from being bound up under the bandana all day. It was quite a sight to see and damn did you feel lucky to see him actually let his hair down around you.

Without warning he slumped over and rested his head against your shoulder, eyes closing as your fingers picked the chords. You hoped he didn’t hear the hitch in your voice when he let out a sigh, feeling him relax against you. What was happening? You wanted to turn your head to look at him, to see him so relaxed around you, but you didn’t want to disturb him. Maybe he didn’t want you to look, maybe he didn’t even realize what he was doing? Why did you of all people get to be around him right then in a vulnerable state?

“if wishing on stars ever falls out of fashion we'll move to the Pleiades with no backward glance maybe between worlds and blackness I'll get up the nerve to finally ask you to dance”

“You play really well.” Buggy murmured as he got comfortable against you. “I could get used to these private concerts.”

Your cheeks burned and you nodded, stumbling once more over the lyrics as you played for him. Could you play for him, be at his beck and call when he wanted a tune? All you would ask was to never play in front of others, this was for yourself, but now for him. He was the Captain, though, and you had to obey his commands, so if he asked you to play for a crowd you’d have to listen to him.

“just to say i love you in well-hidden ways that's all any song says, each note when it's played this one's too honest, but you're smiling, i pray. i am wide open, only a little afraid.”

You leaned into him and he tilted his head a bit to look at you. Your face was burning and your palms were sweaty. The song was almost finished. Soon this moment would be over. He’d return to being Captain, you’d return to being just another member of the crew. If you mentioned this moment to anyone it would reveal your hidden talent and what the Captain had asked of you.

The last of the lyrics were sung, you slowly stopped playing the chords, and you both sat there in silence for a few minutes. Buggy was the first to move, straightening up in his seat as you started to put the instrument away. Without a word, he leaned over to you, and as you turned to face him, you froze when your lips met your Captain’s. It was nice but not what you expected to happen, and when he pulled back you thought you were seeing the stars in his eyes by how they sparkled right then.

“Nothin’ to be afraid about.” He chuckled softly as he touched your cheek. You were glad you put the mandolin away because otherwise it would have slipped from your hands when he kissed you. “Thank you for the concert.”

“Y-You’re welcome.” You stammered out. “Just… just let me know when you want another one.”

“Tomorrow morning after breakfast would be nice.”

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown x reader

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metallicaislife · 5 months

Text

Childhood Friends

A/N: omg this is the longest fic I've written so far. It flowed so smoothly out of my brain I'm gonna cry. 🥹💚

Genre: Fluff, suggestive themes and brief mentions of smut but not explicit

Word Count: 2,180

Warnings: Smoking

When I was young I had a neighbor. He was my best friend. From dawn until dusk we hung out. Whether we wandered the neighborhood on an adventure or at his house as he practiced the bass. He was the kind of person we didn’t need to have constant conversation with to be comfortable. I was absolutely heartbroken at age 14 when my family moved to be closer to my dad’s parents. We called each other every once in a while, but that soon stopped as we got busy with the lives we had going on around us. I’m now in my 20’s and I think about him every so often, I hope he’s doing well, and that all his dreams came true.

It was a typical night, I came home from work. Had a small dinner and curled up on the couch to watch my favorite sitcom. The phone started ringing so I got up to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Is this, Y/N?” A deep calm voice came over the receiver.

“Speaking. Who is this?” I asked.

“It’s Cliff.” He spoke. My eyes widened.

“Cliff? Like Cliff Burton?” I asked. He chuckled.

“Yeah, it’s me. How are you?” He asked. My heart was thrumming against my chest.

“I’m doing well. How are you? How did you get my number?”

“Glad to hear. I’m doing great. I took a chance and looked in a phone book.” He answered me. I laughed.

“I dunno why I never thought of that.” I said.

“I called because my band is going to be in your neck of the woods, I’d love it if you came to our show.”

“You’re in a band?” I asked excitedly. Cliff chuckled.

“Yeah, I am. We’re called Metallica. Do you know where the bar on Main Street and 9th is?” He asked.

“Sure do. When is the show?” I grinned, feeling giddy.

“Tomorrow night. Sorry it’s short notice.” He said.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you called. What time is it?”

“8. I’ll buy you a drink after.” He said.

“God, last time I saw you we were kids. Where’d the time go?” I leaned against my wall.

“It’s been far too long. I’m excited to see you.” He said, I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Me too.” I replied.

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.”

“Thanks, see ya tomorrow Cliff.” I said and hung up.

I pinched myself. Yup that happened. I didn’t fall asleep watching ‘Cheers’ and dreamed of that conversation. I squealed in excitement.

The following day went by quickly, which I was super grateful for. When I knew Cliff he was playing Thin Lizzy on his bass. I’m curious to see what kind of music he plays. I found a comfortable but cute outfit and left to go to the bar.

I got a cocktail and waited around. Soon the band Metallica was announced. I spotted him straightaway. It was hard not to. I thought he was tall when we were young. He grew so much more. He was tall and lanky yet toned, his auburn hair long and unruly. His hazel eyes met mine and he grinned. The same smile that brightened my days all those years ago. I smiled back and gave a small wave.

I’d never heard anything like their music before. It was loud and fast. Absolutely electrifying. I was mesmerized by Cliff, his head banging and the passion emanated off him.

“Thanks everyone!” The lead singer and rhythm guitarist waved. Cliff caught my eye again and motioned for me to head backstage. I gave a nod and made my way back. He was leaning against a wall with his hands in his pockets. He looked up and grinned. He pushed off the wall and walked toward me pulling me into a bone crushing hug. I hugged him back tightly, uncaring that he was sweaty from his performance. He pulled back and held my shoulders studying me. I grinned staring back up at him.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to my bandmates then we’ll get a drink and catch up.” He shifted, placing his arm around my shoulder as he took me back to the green room.

The drummer was sprawled on a couch fanning himself, the guitarist was drinking some water while sitting on a chair and the lead singer was packing up his equipment.

“Hey guys, I want to introduce you to my childhood friend.” Cliff said. They all looked in our direction and I gave a small wave.

“Y/N, this is Lars.” He pointed to the drummer, “Kirk,” then to the guitarist, “and James.” He motioned to the lead singer. “Guys this is Y/N, we used to be neighbors growing up.” He introduced.

“Nice to meet you guys.” I smiled at them.

“Nice to finally meet you, we’ve heard so much about you. Our guy Cliff here talks about you a lot.” James said. Cliff shot him a look and I stifled a small laugh as my cheeks heated up.

“Anyways, I already packed my things. We’re gonna go get a drink and catch up.” Cliff said steering me out of the dressing room before any of the others had a chance to say anything. I turned back to wave at them before we exited the room.

“So you talk about me, huh?” I asked, jabbing him in the ribs playfully.

“I mean, yeah. You’re really the only person I hung out with until I started playing in bands.” He confessed. I smiled but didn’t say anything further.

He got us a couple beers and we found a place to sit.

I was a little worried it would be awkward, we hadn’t seen each other or even talked in years. It was so comfortable though, telling Cliff what I’d been up to, and listening to his stories about how he’s gotten to where he’s at.

The night was coming to a close and there was a part of me that wondered if this was it. Would I only see him if he came to town for a show? The kind of friends that saw each other maybe once a year to catch up. I didn’t want that.

“I wanna see you again, soon.” Cliff said as we walked in the crisp night air.

“Me too.” I responded.

“You know I thought you moving away was the end of the world. You’re only 45 minutes away though.” He chuckled.

“As kids that might as well be across the country.” I laughed, he laughed too.

“Well now we aren’t kids.” He said.

“No we aren’t.” I replied, “So I'll see you soon then?” I asked. He nodded. “Good.” I smiled. He hugged me again and we parted ways.

True to his word, Cliff called the following night, and we made plans to see each other again. Over the course of a few months, we saw each other as much as we could and talked almost every night. Sometimes we didn’t even talk. He’d call and play the bass for me. I knew that I had missed him, but I hadn’t realized how much until he was in my life again.

“We’re having a party on Saturday, I want you to come.” Cliff said over the phone.

“Yeah, I can make that. What’s the address?” I asked. I wrote it down as he relayed it to me, and the time, but he said I could come over whenever.

I took a bus to El Cerrito. I was lucky enough to find the house pretty easily. The party was in full swing. Cliff was on the porch as I walked up. He saw me and his eyebrow furrowed.

“Where’s your car?” He asked and exhaled his cigarette smoke.

“In the shop, it’s been giving me trouble so I caught a bus here. I don’t mind, I'll take one home too.” I replied and stuck my hand out. He placed a cigarette in it, I placed it in my lips and he flicked his lighter so I could light it.

“Don’t be silly, I’ll take you home.” He said.

“No, it’s okay.” I said. I looked up and his face was stern.

“Yes, I will drive you home.” Cliff said with finality. I nodded.

“Thanks.” I replied. Lars came bounding out of the house.

“I know you like keeping Y/N all to yourself but it’s a party Burton!” Lars said and grabbed my wrist. I laughed as he dragged me into the house. Cliff rolled his eyes and followed after us.

The night was filled with laughter as we made memories I will carry with me until the end of my days.

The party wound down and people were falling asleep.

“Ready to go?” Cliff asked me as I leaned against the porch smoking a cigarette.

“Yup.” I smiled and put the cigarette out.

Neither of us got obliterated like the others so we were good for travel.

“Next time I’ll spend the night so we can party a little harder.” I said.

“You’re always welcome to.” Cliff grinned and opened the car door for me. I slid in and buckled up. Cliff got in and started the car.

“There are some tapes in the glovebox.” He said. I opened it up and looked through them. I smiled seeing the first Thin Lizzy album he shared with me, ‘Vagabonds of the Western World’. I put it in, his face lit up as the music played through the speakers.

The car ride was mostly silent, occasionally singing along to the music. I stared out the window, and I could feel what I’ve been wanting to say to him for a couple weeks bubbling beneath the surface.

“I love you.” I said aloud as I continued staring at the darkness outside.

“I love you, too.” Cliff replied.

“No, Cliff, I’m in love with you.” I said refusing to look in his direction. I don’t think my heart could handle it if I saw a look of disgust pass across his features. His hand came to rest on my thigh and gave it a comforting squeeze. I finally tore my gaze from the darkness and looked over feeling completely vulnerable. He kept his gaze on the road, but he glanced over, the look on his face the opposite of what I had imagined.

“I’m in love with you, too.” He replied. I smiled and placed my hand on his, giving it a squeeze as I looked back out the window. A huge weight felt as if it had been lifted from my shoulders.

We arrived at my place not long after and he walked me to the door.

“Why don’t you spend the night, it’d be silly to drive all the way here just to head back.” I offered as I unlocked my door.

“I think you’re just trying to get into my pants.” He teased me as he moved my hair out the way so he could place a kiss on my neck.

“Maybe a little of both.” I teased back. I opened the door and he followed me in. He shut and locked my door. He turned around and placed his hands on my waist. We stared at one another. The only sound is our even breathing. Cliff tucked my hair behind my ear, he cupped my face and brought his lips down to meet mine. I’ve been kissed before, but never like this. It took my breath away.

We stumbled clumsily through my apartment giggling and losing clothes along the way. We laid in bed and worshiped each other for hours. Learning each other's bodies inside and out.

We laid in each other's arms, sweaty and worn. I traced soft shapes on his chest as he tickled my back.

“How are you feeling?” Cliff asked softly.

“Content.” I replied and kissed his chest. Cliff chuckled.

“Thank you for telling me how you feel.” He said.

“If I held it in any longer I think I would’ve combust.” I replied and placed my chin on his chest so I could look at him. His hazel eyes in the dim light held so much love and adoration. I hoped as he looked back he could see that same look mirrored in my eyes. “Thanks for reaching out and inviting me to your show. If you hadn’t, we probably wouldn’t be here.” I said.

“It was a long shot, but I really missed you. I loved you back then, ya know. But I never could have imagined how much further I could have fallen for you.” He said. My heart skipped a beat and buried my head in his chest. He chuckled and kissed my head.

I wish I had a Time Machine so I could go back and tell the heartbroken girl that had to move away from her best friend that it wouldn’t be that way forever. She was able to grow up and fall deeply in love with the quiet boy next door who played his bass so passionately.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

#metallica #metallica x reader #metallica imagines #metallica scenarios #metallica fluff #cliff burton #cliff burton x reader #cliff burton fluff

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singularattitudeofasafetypin · 2 years

Text

The Damsel and the Dungeon Master

Masterlist

Summary: After losing a bet, Eddie makes Reader dress up and play the princess in his newest campaign. Furious, she plots a way to get back at him, but she'll need the help of one of the party! Does Eddie have a traitor in his midst, and does their rivalry hide deeper feelings?

Word Count: 4.3K ish

Warnings: none that I can think of!

A/N: Disclaimer that I've never played Dnd so there's probably a tonne of things I get wrong but oh well! I'm a Brit so anything I get wrong about America, that's why!

I really liked writing this! I hope you guys enjoy reading it!

Please don't copy my work

If someone had asked you that morning what you’d be doing later, you’d never have guessed, ‘Standing in the costume cupboard of Hawkins High Drama Club, watching your worst enemy rifling through its contents like a mad man,’ would be the answer.

It started the way all stupid things did: with a bet.

You’d graduated from Hawkins High two years ago now but when Mrs Williams had called you in a frenzy, begging for help wrangling the new generation of thespians for the school musical, you couldn’t say no. So here you sat, watching the late-night rehearsal fall to pieces, trying to whip it back into shape.

That was until your arch nemesis walked in. Eddie Munson burst through the door like he owned the place and started rooting around the corners of the room. You tried not to pay attention, fixing your eyes on the scene being performed. ‘He’s probably left something from his silly boardgame,’ you thought, huffing that the drama club were still being forced to share their space.

You’d been protesting the arrangement since the club formed in your freshman year, but each time you were met with failure and an infuriatingly smug smile. Hundreds of arguments had to be broken up by your respective cohorts throughout your high school years, the two of you red faced and spitting venomous insults. Still, he refused to budge.

Graduating was supposed to mean you never had to see his arrogant face again. Trust your luck!

‘No! No, come on guys!’ you clapped, stopping the trainwreck of a scene in its tracks, ‘We’ve rehearsed this!’

Busy directing the kids, you didn’t see Eddie freeze at the sound of your voice, turning slowly to follow it. His mouth split into a grin. Once you sat down, he bounded over, ‘Long time, no see!’ he crowed, throwing his arm around you like you were best friends.

He sniggered when you jumped. ‘There’s a reason for that, Munson!’ you shoved his arm off your shoulder, shooting him a look of pure disgust. ‘From the top!’ you snapped at the kids, a little harsher than you’d meant to

He clutched his heart, dropping into the next but one seat and retching as though you’d mortally wounded him, ‘So mean!’ he whined, ‘I thought you liked me!’

‘Shut up!’

‘Come on, I thought you had a flare for the dramatic!’ he teased, getting up in your face, only laughing when you elbowed him sharply between the ribs.

You refused to look at him. Maybe if you just ignored him, he’d disappear?

It didn’t work; it never did!

The rehearsal wore on and Eddie sat next to you the whole time. Everything seemed to be going wrong tonight! You and Mrs Williams were at your wits end and there he was, snickering and whispering to you like it was all a massive joke!

When you sat back down after fixing some blocking, he leant over and murmured, ‘I bet you Katie bungles her solo!’

You scoffed, ‘No way!’ Despite all the setbacks, that was one thing you were comfortable with. Katie had had that song down since week two.

He shrugged, ‘If you’re so sure then bet on it!’

You hesitated, attention split between your protegees and your enemy. An idea crossed your mind. It wasn’t at all professional, but this could be your chance. Sweet revenge was right at your fingertips. It was too much to resist.

‘Fine!’ you conceded, ‘She doesn’t mess up and you have to find some other place for your stupid club! Give us our room back, permanently!’

Eddie looked surprised, ‘You’re still mad about that?’ He laughed at you, making you hate him even more.

‘Name your terms, Munson!’ you huffed.

His eyes sparkled at that, like you’d just walked right into his trap. ‘If she messes up,’ he said slowly, voice silky smooth, ‘You have to dress up and play the princess for my stupid clubs next campaign!’

‘You can’t be serious!’

He spread his hands, ‘What? You’re chickening out? I thought you were certain!’ he mimicked, waving air quotes.

You weighed the options, but he wasn’t nervous. Manipulating you was easy as breathing! Eventually you took the bait. ‘Deal!’

Stupid! Stupid! Idiot!

Of course, tonight had to be the one time her voice broke. It wavered on a note she’d been practicing for weeks! Months! Your face fell a thousand feet and a mile wide grin stretched Eddie’s mouth.

Cut to you, arms folded, face burning with shame, watching Eddie rummage through the cupboard, trying to find you a costume.

‘I know it’s here somewhere!’ He grunted and groaned then gave a shout of triumph. You cringed as he stood, presenting the crumpled pink monstrosity he’d selected for your torture.

The dress had been used for the ’82 production of Romeo and Juliet but had been bought before your time. Quality, the finest a small-town high school drama department could afford. It was limp, ragged and devoid of structure with scratchy lace around the square neckline. Faux lacing ran down the bodice and the skirt gave the illusion of a mid-renaissance split front.

Eddie threw it over your arm, diving back into the mess. ‘You can’t be serious!’ you grumbled.

‘Deadly!’ he said over his shoulder, ‘And I thought we had…I know it’s here somewhere- ha!’ he straightened, holding a cone shaped hat in matching pink, with tatty gold ribbons hanging pathetically from the point.

‘No!’ you shook your head, ‘Absolutely not!’

‘Come on!’ he wheedled.

‘I’m not wearing the stupid hat, Munson! No way!’

***

‘Welcome valiant adventurers!’ Eddie spread his arms, heralding the party as they entered. Their usual table was set up, lights dimmed and mysterious and candles, which were definitely not allowed in school, flickered on either side of Eddie’s throne. Concealed behind a curtain at Eddie’s instruction, you contemplated your shame. The Hellfire banner leered down, taunting you and your wretched defeat.

‘Disaster had fallen the quaint kingdom of Knaerwood! An evil sorcerer had kidnapped the fair princess, Esmeralda, threatening destruction on her homeland!’

He paused, expectantly. ‘Hey! That’s your cue!’

Rolling your eyes and wishing for death, you stepped out of the shadows. The group stifled gasps at the sight of you, creased pink skirts trailing around your ankles and, yes, ribbons dangling from that ridiculous hat.

‘Oh noblemen! Knights of the realm!’ you cried in a monotone, rolling your eyes, ‘Pray won’t you rescue me from the malevolent clutches of-,’ you squinted at the smudged ink on your hand, ‘Uronin?’

No one knew where to look. The younger members knew of you through Mike’s sister and the older from the countless rows they’d dragged Eddie away from. One thing they all knew without a doubt was you wouldn’t touch D&D with a ten-foot pole.

You folded your arms, glaring at them, daring them to utter a single word. None of them did but Gareth and Dustin had to cover their mouths to hide giggles.

‘I don’t know!’ Gareth managed, ‘She looks like she’d rather kill Uronin herself!’

You shot daggers and he flinched.

‘What say you men?’ Eddie ignored all of you, ‘Will you undertake the quest to save the poor, defenceless princess?’ he made sappy faces at you with each word, making you want to scream with anger. How was this so much worse than you imagined?

‘Well, I for one will never leave a fellow maiden in peril!’ Lucas’s younger sister spoke up. She nodded at you in solidarity, ‘I will take the quest!’ At least she seemed sympathetic to your pain, or was that just her character?

The others promptly took up the task with theatrical pledges of chivalry.

The next two hours were hell. Eddie made you act the helpless princess, shaking his head and giving patronizing direction when he wasn’t satisfied with your performance. ‘Ham it up a bit!’ he instructed, catching your arm, ‘You’re an actress! You should be good at this!’

You wanted to kill him.

When at last the torment ended, you ripped the hat from your head, breathing a sigh of relief. It was over!

Wordlessly, you began to help clear away, nightmare flashes of how you used to find the drama room left on a Monday morning coming back to you. The others filed out and Eddie stuffed his binder under his arm, slinging his bag over his shoulder, ‘See you next week!’ He said with a smile.

Your blood ran cold, ‘What?’

He looked back, a confused frown marred his features, ‘Oh, you… didn’t think this was it?’ Your jaw tightened. ‘They’re nowhere near rescuing you, Esmeralda!’ he simpered.

‘This is gonna be eight weeks at least!’

***

It was torture.

You had to admit, Eddie was a wonderful storyteller. The way he narrated was so animated and unlike anything you’d ever seen. If you didn’t loathe him so much, he could have been an invaluable asset to the drama club. He was so invested in the world he’d created; it was infectious. The party hung onto every word, lapping it up, and Eddie got this mad glint in his eye like he was drunk on the performance.

Unfortunately, that didn’t make the following weeks any less mortifying. Just when you’d think it couldn’t get worse, he’d hand you the script he’d scrawled for the next session, and you’d die a little more.

By week four, you’d had enough. You couldn’t just take this lying down! There had to be something you could do to get back at him!

That night, as you sat listlessly during the session, waiting your turn to embarrass yourself when the perfect revenge plan presented itself. Your eyes flicked to Eddie as though afraid he could hear your thoughts. He didn’t react, in the middle of some spiel about armour classes or something.

Forcing yourself to relax outwardly so he wouldn’t suspect, your mind got to work. You weren’t positive it would work, and you definitely couldn’t accomplish it alone. You needed an ally, one right under Eddie’s nose.

‘Hey, princess!’ he snapped his fingers in front of your face. You jolted out of your head. ‘That was your cue! Let’s go!’

Oh, you were so going to get him back!

***

Lucas Sinclair��s younger sister had a mouth on her. Though she was the youngest of the party and the only one not in high school, she was more than a match for any of them. Including Eddie.

Her poison-soaked kukri wasn’t her only weapon, she was the only one able to go toe to toe in an argument with the dungeon master, and more often than not, she got her own way. You also suspected her to be sympathetic to your plight if your first session was anything to go by. She would often roll her eyes and begin harassing Eddie whenever he grated on you too hard.

It was now or never! You ran to catch her once the session was over, leaving the drama room in a mess and Eddie calling after you.

‘Hey!’ you panted, skidding to a halt when she stopped, ‘Erica, right?’

She raised an eyebrow, ‘Who wants to know?’ Lucas yelled for her to hurry up and she shot a sarcastic remark over her shoulder. ‘What do you want?’ she asked pointedly, looking back to you.

‘I uh-.’

She was like three foot tall! How was this kid so intimidating?

‘I need your help!’ you begged, ‘Please, I can’t take much more of this! Munson’s killing me in there! I need your help to get back at him!’

She looked sceptical; her eyes narrowed. You crossed your fingers behind your back. ‘What’s in it for me?’

‘What?’

‘You heard me! What’s in it for Erica?’

You spluttered. Whatever happened to ‘not leaving a fellow maiden in peril?’ ‘Well, what do you want?’

She tilted her head to the side, tapping her jaw, pretending to think for a while. ‘Hmm… Stop trying to take away the drama room!’ she demanded, hand moving to her hip.

That surprised you. You didn’t even think she’d know about that!

‘You should know what it’s like to get pushed away!’ she continued poking a finger at you, ‘You drama kids aren’t exactly in with the popular crowd either! We’re not so different, so stop trying to get rid of us!’

You were taken aback, guilt suddenly flooding in. In all your years of protesting Hellfire, you’d never stopped to think how they might feel about that. You bit the inside of your cheek, hanging your head sheepishly, realising how hypocritical you were.

Theatre was something you loved dearly and wanted to protect from those who didn’t understand or ridiculed it. But at its core, wasn’t theatre about unity? ‘There are no small roles, only small actors!’ That was something you’d been told from day one and was now teaching to the new generation. Everyone in a cast mattered, from the lead to the youngest ensemble member, no matter what! It was a family. And there you’d been, pushing this group away because you deemed them unworthy.

You’d seen the way they played their roles. They loved their characters and the stories so much. All this time you could have been working together. How had it taken six years and a middle-schooler’s words to make you see that?

‘Okay fine, I’m sorry,’ you muttered. ‘Now would you please help me?’

Erica smiled triumphantly, holding out a hand. You shook it.

‘What did you have in mind?’

***

Hellfire became almost bearable after that day.

Watching Eddie poke fun at you, still believing he had the upper hand was exhilarating. His jibes stung less knowing that one of his own had betrayed him. He had no idea the storm that was coming.

The two of you met in secret. You brought back information you’d snatched from glancing at Eddie’s notes when he wasn’t looking, and she began to coach you in the art of Dungeons and Dragons.

It was Gareth you had to thank for the idea. Way back when you began, his suggestion that you wanted to kill the wizard yourself had made you wonder, why not? Why the hell not?

Thankfully, Lucas was too busy with basketball, he didn’t have time to notice you dashing into his sister’s room with wads of paper and notebooks.

Erica helped you fill out your character sheet, careful to pay attention to the notes Eddie had for you already. That way he hadn’t a leg to stand on if he tried to argue. She took you through the endless number of rules, teaching you the names of different monsters and playing one shot campaigns to level you up.

By the time the final session rolled around, Erica was satisfied you were ready.

‘Are you sure?’

Doubt suddenly flooded in. What if it wasn’t enough? You only had one shot at this!

She placed a hand on your shoulder, looking you dead in the eye, ‘Kick his butt, Esmeralda!’

You gave a small smile and she nodded before Eddie entered. You broke apart, trying to look innocent. He couldn’t suspect anything! His eyes flicked between you, focusing, but before he could ask any questions, the rest of the party trooped in, laughing excitedly about the grand finale of the campaign. Oh, if only they knew!

You took your seat, next to Eddie’s, practically vibrating with excitement and anticipation. The party battled through a final horde of monsters; it was almost time.

‘The final orc lets out an ear-piercing roar then drops down… dead!’ Eddie recited, throwing himself back onto his throne to imitate the monster. He leaned forward, ‘The door at the end of the corridor creaks open, revealing the desperate princess. Eddie gave you a nod. Erica barely concealed a smile.

You stood, dramatically clasping your heart. ‘Oh, noble adventurers come to my rescue! How could I ever thank you?’ you really went for it this time. From the corner of your eye, Eddie watching you with a look of awe. Pressing the back of your hand to your forehead you declared, ‘In all the ages of this world, there is no reward that could match your bravery!’

‘But then,’ Eddie cut in throwing his hand out to stop you and kneeling halfway onto the table, ‘a whirling storm of smoke arises! Out of the shadows, he materialises! The evil lord Uronin!’

The party let out cries of fear and alarm. Eddie cackled, ‘He stands between you and the princess! His staff drawn, it’s light growing brighter by the second!’

Before he could say another word, you slammed a character sheet down on the table. ‘I pull a knife from within my skirts and stab him in the back!’

The room fell silent. Eddie stared at you, sitting back on his heels. His smile faltered. You held his gaze and realisation seemed to dawn on him.

‘No way!’ Gareth exclaimed, open mouthed.

‘You never said she was gonna play!’ Mike interjected.

‘Dude, epic reveal!’ Henderson laughed with delight.

Eddie didn’t say anything. His eyes didn’t move from yours. They were unreadable. In the dim light, they looked like black beetles. They flickered with the reflection of candlelight, as though they too were on fire. You stood your ground, goading him to make his move. Something in his expression changed. He handed you a die, ‘Roll for damage!’ You took it and he caught your wrist. ‘You’re on!’ he breathed.

You’d never been more nervous in your life. Playing for the first time in a group was nerve-wracking enough but these were incredibly experienced competitors. By all accounts, Eddie was the toughest dungeon master there was, and he had no intention of going easy on you.

Erica had your back. She shouted instruction above the ruckus that resulted and you were always careful to follow. Eddie noticed. Realisation hit; an underhanded mutiny had taken place within his own ranks! A scowl creased his brow. He amped up his game.

Wave after wave of monsters attacked. You were pretty sure Eddie was just improvising now. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

‘That’s ridiculous!’ you protested, after a particularly cruel ruling.

He shrugged, smug smile plastered across his face, ‘That’s the game sweetheart!’

‘No it’s not! He rolled 18! With his multipliers-!’

‘I get the final say!’ he interrupted, pushing himself out of his seat.

‘You aren’t being fair!’ you shot back, following suit.

‘Tough luck!’

‘If you aren’t going to play properly!’

‘You know what, princess?’

‘What?’

His jaw tightened. You were practically nose to nose, so close you could feel his hot breath on your cheek. Eddie bit his tongue, falling silent. His eyes flitted, almost imperceptibly to your lips as he wet his own and something deeper than fury ignited inside you. Blind rage became floundering confusion. Your breath became shallow. All at once, you were noticing the lines between his brows when he frowned, the way his bottom lip jutted out and quivered just a little, the hard curve of his jaw, the dark intensity of his eyes…

‘If you two lovebirds are done?’ Erica cut in, ‘I search for a way to cave in the passageway!’

Eddie tore away and sat down. You forced those feelings down and tried to focus on the game. He hardly looked at you for the rest of the session. Your head was reeling, trying to make sense of the altercation. A red flush crept its way up your neck; you tried to keep it together.

What had he meant by looking at you like that! What had you meant, thinking all those things? What did any of it mean?

And for the first time, somewhere deep down in your heart, you worried you’d struck a nerve.

***

It was a close call, but the party came through. Eddie recounted the final parts of the story amid cheers of victory. They left their seats, chatting and celebrating for at least another half hour before beginning to head home.

Triumphantly, you threw your princess hat across the room. Eddie smiled to himself but you didn’t see.

You thanked Erica quietly, ‘Worth every second!’ she smirked, ‘Or nearly!’ You felt your cheeks grow warm again, warmer still at the voice behind you.

‘So, you’re the mutinous traitor?’ Eddie came out of nowhere, slouching between you with an arm on either of your shoulders.

‘All I did was stand up to an oppressive regime! And come to the aid of a damsel in distress!’ she retorted, making him laugh. The sound was low in his throat, filled with fondness. You couldn’t help but want to hear it again. He didn’t seem angry that one of his flock had betrayed him, in fact he seemed quite proud.

Erica bid farewells and followed Lucas out to where their mom waited in the car. It was then you realised how quickly the room had emptied.

You and Eddie were alone.

He held out his hand, ‘Well played!’ he said, his tone completely genuine. You shook it awkwardly. It was weird to talk without sarcasm. Maybe you liked it?

‘Thanks.’

‘You completely cheated,’ he added (there it was), ‘but well played!’

‘I did not cheat!’ you jerked your hand away, indignation sparking up again.

‘Did so!’

‘Did not!’

For once Eddie gave in, shaking his head with a smile. ‘What did Sinclair get out of this anyway?’ he asked, turning to start tidying up. What was happening? Eddie never started tidying up first! ‘She never does anything for free!’ he went on, ‘She’s really into this Capitalism thing, try’na knock it out of her!’ He gave another one of those slight laughs making your stomach turn over.

You hesitated, wondering if you should tell the truth. The source of all your rivalry had been her price. Would he lord it over you? Would he be mad you gave it up for her when you’d spent forever refusing him? Either way, it felt scarily close to admitting defeat.

With a heavy breath you muttered, ‘She said I had to stop trying to kick you guys out!’

Eddie stopped, ‘Wait, really?’ He couldn’t believe what he was heard.

You nodded at the floor, biting the inside of your cheek in attempt to stop hot embarrassment from taking hold. ‘She said I ought to know better, you know, with the drama kids not being popular either.’ You let out a breathy chuckle, ‘She said maybe we aren’t so different after all.’

‘What, stubborn?’ Eddie grinned, stepping closer.

You looked up at him, with a tentative smile, ‘Arrogant!’ you offered, raising an eyebrow.

‘Self-centred?’

‘Impulsive,’ you breathed. There you were again. You didn’t know how it happened so fast: faces so close it wouldn’t be hard to lean forward and…

He sensed your uncertainty. A tender smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, growing wider when he saw it mirrored on yours. After all this time, all this arguing, he had to ask himself if this was what it was all for? Maybe all of your quarrels, all of your disagreements had been leading up to this? Maybe at the heart of it all, this was what you really meant by-

‘Sorry I forgot my- woah!’

You jumped apart as Mike burst through the doors and yelped in panic.

‘Wheeler!’ Eddie seethed. The boy was trembling like a leaf.

‘Did I… interrupt… something?’

You held your breath, wincing at the rush of feelings crawling under your skin. Eddie looked fit to burst.

‘Scram!’

He grabbed his hoodie and bucked it, leaving the doors to swing and crash shut behind him. Eddie swore under his breath and went back to clearing the table. You didn’t move for a while, an unfamiliar twinge of regret shot through your heart.

Electricity charged the air, like static before a thunderstorm. Your heart pounded, grappling for understanding. Without thinking, you stepped forward just as Eddie turned around, almost falling into you. Nose to nose again, this time, you closed the gap.

Balling your fists in his shirt and reaching on tiptoe, you kissed him. He froze up. Time stopped and reality took a while to catch up with him. Then his hand found its way into your hair and he relaxed, drinking you in like he was dying of thirst.

A second later, you broke apart. Eddie breathed heavily, trying to replace the air you’d just knocked out of him. He had stars in his eyes, still not able to process what happened. It was like everything suddenly made sense. An unspoken recognition passed between you before he kissed you again. Cupping your cheek, he fumbled to set the miniatures he’d gathered back on the table so he could hold you in both hands. Yours tightened in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him still closer.

Too soon, he broke again but stayed close. Forehead pressed to yours, he laughed quietly, that same low sound that sent butterflies careening through your tummy. When your eyes met, his open mouth stretched to a smile, ‘I knew you liked me!’

‘Don’t push your luck, Munson!’ you mumbled, reaching to kiss him again and again laughing between them.

‘Never!’ he grinned, obliging you, ‘Never! Never! Never!’

You tired yourself out, incessant kissing turned to a breathless embrace. Eddie’s eyes were closed, like if he opened them, it would turn out to all be a dream. A beautiful dream.

‘Hey,’ you murmured, waiting until he met your gaze. You raised an eyebrow, ‘So do I get one of those cool t-shirts now?’

Eddie pressed a kiss to your smile, taking you all in, ‘I don’t know, princess,’ he smirked, ‘I think your outfit’s pretty perfect already!’

You slapped his chest and he laughed, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you in once more.

***

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undermine-the-instinct · 8 months

Text

Crush or Chance?

● Bard!reader masterlist ● Next part.... ●Warnings: None ● Wc: 5.9K

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times and shame on the both of us. So what be said for a fourth time?

(Or in other words, Kaveh met you long before you knew him.)

If he's being a little honest, Kaveh has a bit of a crush on you.

Or maybe it's something more like a bittersweet admiration, the same way you'd look at phoenix and think, this will end in flames.

The more he worked, the more clients he contracted the more dissatisfied he became. Functionality over art, structure over beauty, efficiency over soul. He felt like life was being drained out of him. And after a while, he started thinking; Why should I? What was the point? However great he was in the eyes of others, no matter what praises they heap onto him, he is but one person. What could he do on his own?

And how arrogant of him to hope to even try! What has he ever truly done? Even his Magnum opus; A palace that doesn't even belong to him and has buried him in a lifelong debt. He was never really ever going to amount to much.

It was during one of these depressing bouts of his that he met you.

Bars are cesspools, collecting tears and drunken spurs, but also joy. Like his polar opposite you lit up the room, and he couldn't help but feel drawn. Your voice resounded throughout the space, and it stirred something deep in his heart. He felt like he had just found the answer to a puzzle he was grilling over for so long, and seemingly, for no reason at all. He was alive! He was in a bar! Shouldn't he be joining in on the merry?

And so he danced the night away. He sang and greeted old friends and he paid for all his drinks that night. It wasn't until the place was closing that he thought about the bard that stirred his heart and feet into action. But by then you were long gone. If it's meant to be I'll find them again, he thought, and began the trek home.

He didn’t get to meet you that night. He found you again though another day, dancing in the center of a crowd that had surrounded you. There was a man playing a fiddle, while another played on a flute. You were barefoot, a scarf around your waist trailing behind you in a ribbon of silk, a smile on your face. You weren't afraid to get too close to the crowd, you snapped fingers and captured a delighted stranger in your scarf, taking a child by the hand and twirling them around and around.

Mentioning art is the quickest way to end a conversation, is something that is generally known in Sumeru. But there was no conversation to be had here, there was only music and laughter, for the simple joy of being able to move. He felt like a bystander watching a moving painting.

Shouts sounded behind him, and as one the crowd turned back to see. Matra were approaching with scowls, a collective thunderstorm to usher the people on and disperse the crowd.

“Hey! You folks! You're under arrest for public misconduct and unsanctioned musical performance!”

“Uh, no we’re not!” with a last bow to the crowd, and a trilling sound from the flutist, you and your companions ran in opposite directions, gone like magpies in the wind. One second you're there and then you're gone.

Kaveh wants to know what your name is. Who are you?

“Oh, that pest? Just some runt from all the way in Monstadt,” a client frowns, deep and fissured.

“One of those traveling sorts, so let's hope that they pack up and get moving soon.”

“Have they been especially troublesome?” He scoffs at this and looks at Kaveh with wide disbelieving eyes.

“‘Especially trouble?’ Like you wouldn’t believe! You and I both know how the Akademiya hates those artsy types, and then this person shows up and decides to make a whole mockery of that. And for what? Out of spite? How childish.”

“I might have seen them around actually, at a few bars I've visited with some colleagues,” Kaveh supplies, refilling the man’s drink.

“They didn’t look like the sort to cause much trouble.” He’s a liar. As a matter of fact, that smile you wore back then spoke nothing but mystique and mischief.

“Those Monstadt types always like to cause trouble. They had one revolution and think themselves all martyrs and rebels. Trust me, I’m older than you and I know. Remember that one girl who graduated from the Akademiya in two years? I even offered to sponsor that girl and look where she is now; working as a librarian in that grass field of all places,” he scowled.

“What a waste of talent. I’ve had enough of them, so let's hope this one hops over to Fontaine or something, they'd be welcomed over there I bet. Now, didn't we come here for something? The plans for my building, you got them?”

“Of course sir, right here…” This isn't the first time he's heard something like this, especially amongst his oldest clients. It's a shared sentiment, and it feels like something bitter and vindictive. He knocks back his own glass.

Kaveh doesn't know who you are, but he wonders; if you ever went to Fontaine, would his mother like you?

The next time he sees you is in a public garden. And he's late, he was supposed to be at a meeting with another client at least forty five minutes ago, but rushing along, the way you were just standing there caught his eye.

He can hardly see you above all the rolled blueprints and stuffed folders he's carrying, he forgot his bag and it was too late to go back and get it, but he could tilt his head back and get a clearer look at your form in the grass.

Standing in the shade and dappled sunlight of a great tree, barefoot and…posing. He followed your gaze to a book you had lying open in the grass, and saw a few poses and stands he half recognized, all hand drawn with notes in the margins.

You paid no mind to the odd looks or stares you were getting, the way that people gave you a wide berth of space, how some shook their heads and scurried their children on, the way that others would stop and stare before shaking themselves out of their reverie. Kaveh wasn’t part of either group, but he was still…watching you.

He must have been more obvious than most because you lifted your head just as you were stretching, tilting your head in question like a bird, an automatic smile on your face. Quizzical but warm. He tilted his head back at you, like the idiot he was, and your smile broke out wider.

“Good morning to you too, stranger! What are you up to this fine morning?”

Him? You were speaking with him? He lifted up the filled blueprints he had in his arms, obscuring his face more. “Off to work. And, um, how about you?”

“Stretching! Or at least, pretending to.” You twirled a bit into your next position, so that you had your back to him now.

“You're not doing a very good job pretending.”

“Oh? Am I being too obvious?” There was mirth in your voice, amusement.

“You're doing an arabesque in a demi-plie, I think it's obvious.” You stumbled a little and whirled so fast to look at him that he wondered for a second if you could get whiplash. He was holding too many blueprints he could imagine it was hard to see anything other than his bob of his hair and his brows.

“...You know what an Arabesque is?” He shrugged carefully.

”My mother lives in Fontaine, and they are fond of performances there. I know a few terms.” He saw your expression fall a bit through the peeps of his papers, but you brightened up before he could say anything more.

“That's still more than most people I've talked to. What else do you know?”

Kaveh could see you, eager and open to a stranger like himself. He recalled the way the crowd clapped along with you when you were dancing in the street. The way you sang, loud and unabashed, like a thunderbird whose only job it was was to wake the world, to a prophecy now foretold. But he couldn’t tell the future, and he thought neither could you.

How naively brazen you are. How unapologetically bold. How lovely.

“...Aren't you afraid?”

“What?” Your face shuttered off into confusion but he went on.

“Sumeru isn't the most ideal place for musicians and artists. I’m sure you've felt the general attitude and atmosphere, so, what are you doing? Aren't you scared of the repercussions?”

“Repercussions?”

“The sages have the matra set on you. That's not a rumor-it's fact. Aren't you scared of what else they could do to you?’’

“Well yeah, of course I am? But what else am I supposed to do, change the way I live?” His eyes widen, while you scoff, kicking up your feet.

“I’ve said it before and I'll say it again, they’re frightened of us.”

“Frightened? Frightened of what?” What could the sages, the governing force and face of Sumeru, have to fear from the populace?

“Frightened of what we can do? What has humanity done when pushed against the corner, or forced inside the cave? What have we done when the night falls and the rain pours?” You spread out your arms and tilt your head towards the sky.

“We sing! We gather together to tell stories over our work, we dance around the fire, we paint the tales of our passages onto the cavern walls, all things we have done before the written word. Even then, when we learned to write and record our stories, we created fables and tall tales to tell one another.”

“After humans discovered how to read and write, civilization did start to advance, at a before unprecedented rate.,” He admits.

“Art is what pushed civilizations to prosperity. It continues to. The only reason The Akademiya doesn't acknowledge this is because they don't see nor recognize everything as a form of art.”

“Isn’t that a bit naive though?” He shuffles the load in his arms.

“That sounds like romanticism to me.”

“It is. And what's wrong with that?” You shrug.

"Tell me, who embroiders those elegant robes they all wear? Who tills and plants their outdoor gardens? Who builds their offices and homes and buildings? Who cooks their food or carves their furniture? Art is intrinsic to humanity. It is inevitable, irrefutable. Are they trying to deny that?" You scowled.

"Do they not find these things lovely, and necessary? Do they think themselves above the divine craft of creation? Do theyhink themselves as Gods?" You scowled harder, but then sighed, letting your breath out in a single push.

"Hm. But, that's not the question you asked me, right?"

“....No.” Then you thought, tilted your head up to the sky and huffed out a laugh.

“Well, actually, yes I am. But what else can I do, change the way I live?...No. I’m going to continue as I've always have, and if that’s something that makes me a target, then that’s just what comes with the territory of being a star.” You grinned, bright.

“....There are rumors that the Akademyia will deploy the General Mahamatra to subdue you if you make any sort of big fuss.”

“Well, what kind of star doesn't have a scandal or two under their belt?” You grinned again, but wobbly at the corners, and take a good look at all the papers he's carrying.

‘I…hope I'm not keeping you up? You seemed to be in a bit of a hurry before–” He gasped, cutting you off.

"Oh Archons, yes! Damn it, I'm going to be so late!!” He got completely sidetracked!! He gave you a nod that he hoped you saw and ran off to his appointment. Hopefully the client was still there.

Life is art, and art is intrinsic to life, basically, right? If that's the way someone like you sees the world, maybe he can adopt that mindset.

And hopefully he'd find you again, and greet you properly this time, no matter what rumors you were embroiled in. He’ll leave it up to fate this time as well. it's already led him to you twice before.

You're so pretty. Kaveh has a bit of a crush on you already.

He woke up to a dark familiar room, and a dull throbbing in his head.

This was familiar, and normal. He wasn't kidnapped, or anything. He must have gone drinking again, and stumbled his way back home. The question was how he got inside. He’s pretty sure that he lost his keys several days ago and hasn't yet found the time to go get a new pair made. So the question stands…

Actually, the question can wait. His mouth feels like it's full of dust and cotton, and he needs water. That's his first priority.

His feet are bare and the floor cool as he pads his way over to the kitchen, trying to rub the heaviness out of his eyes.

When he reaches the kitchen he stops, and rubs at them again because what are you doing sitting at the kitchen island talking to his jerk of a roommate?

“Oh, you're up.” You stand and walk over to him, reaching out like he needs steadying.

“What are you doing here?”

“We went out drinking and I carried you home, remember?”

“Oh, I remember of course, I wasn't talking to you though dear, I was talking to the man standing there like a mother ready to catch her kid sneaking back inside.”

“Because that's exactly what you did.” The bastard had a steaming cup up to his face, not even bothering to look at him. “How did you get in without your keys?”

“We used the key under the mat. I lost my keys, so how else?”

“I had taken the key and hidden it somewhere else.”

“What? Why would you hide the key?!”

“Because then you'd lose that one too, obviously.”

“Tch. Wait, then how did…” You laugh and shuffle a little, culprit.

“Yeah, sorry, this is my fault. I really wanted to get Kaveh into his bed so I kinda…picked the lock? It’s not broken or anything but still…” You lower your head in apology.

“I wasn’t willing to be patient, I’m sorry.”

“Yes, I'm sure you were in a hurry.” Al haitham sighs in reply and Kaveh bristles.

“What was that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. What do you think I meant?”

“I think you know exactly what you were insinuating.”

“Then why don't you spell it out for me?” He finally looked at him, tri-colored eyes gleaming oddly in the light. He looked…Apprehensive? No, that was just irritation, as usual.

Kaveh clicks his tongue in annoyance and turns back to you.

“See? What did I tell you about this guy? You don't need to apologize to this jerk, alright? You’re perfectly fine.”

“Oh? Talking behind my back now are you.”

Kaveh scoffs, heat curling in his chest. Or maybe just the leftover alcohol. “It's nothing you wouldn't outright say yourself, so no need to ponder what I’ve said directly. I only spoke the truth, which is even sadder if you ask me.”

“Okay, stop it, that's enough,” You step between the two of them, frowning.

“There is no need for this petty back and forth. It’s late and we should all be in bed already. In fact,” You turn to him, “You were sleeping when I left you, do you need something?”

“...Were you two talking?”

“Just…greeting each other. He came in not too long after we did.”

Another cup sits on the table, softly steaming and obviously yours. It hasn't been long, but you’ve been here for more than a few minutes at least.

You scratch the back of your head with a sheepish grin. “Maybe I should have waited, then I wouldn’t have needed to break in.”

“No harm no foul.” Kaveh’s mouth gapes open when Alhaitham waves you off.

“‘No harm no foul?’ Have you lost your mind?! Are you sick?!”

“I'm perfectly fine you fool,” He sighs through his nose.

“I just expect as much behavior from any of your companions. Nothing was harmed in the end so its fine, I’ll just have the locks changed tomorrow.” He drinks from the cup, and looks up at him.

“I hope you know I’m not paying for your own set of keys.”

“What?! Why not–”

“Kaveh,” You interject. “Are you alright? You were dead asleep when I set you down.”

He groans, rubbing his forehead.

“About that, Thanks for carrying me all the way back here. I was the one who invited you out but you ended up taking care of me.”

“Well, you let me pick the place so I guess it's even between us. Did you get thirsty or something?”

He nods. “Then go lay back down, I'll bring it to you.”

“What? I can't have you serve me under my roof.”

Alhaitham snorts. “‘Your roof?’ Technically its–”

“Ah ah ah!” You cut him off with a raise of your voice and a sharp look, Kaveh grins from behind your shoulder. Alhaitham’s eyes widen by your audacity, and by the archons are you lovely. You turn back to him.

“It's fine. You're the one who needs to rest so let me help you out. Go lay down.”

“Well. if you insist.” He turns and starts the trek back to the room, and the house is quiet enough that he can hear your lowered voices as he walks off. He can't help but feel that you sent him away so that you could say something, or finish talking with Alhaitham. But why would you?

He has a hand on the knob, shutting his door when the thought strikes him, Why is Alhaitham even up at this hour? Sure, sometimes he'd get back late from his scribe duties or whatever, but that was rare. And it's not like he went drinking out late that often (as if he had people to go with him).

And beyond that, why was he talking with you? Of course you were amazing and charming in your own right but people like the both of you don't mesh very well, and with your reputation, it was best to avoid him. As The Scribe, he was technically a Matra, after all.

Oh fuck he’s a matra.

He's just about to go swing the door open to dash to your rescue when it swings open of its own accord, and there you were with a glass of water, wide eyed to see him there.

He grabs your shoulders and tries to turn you to steer you back, but damn it you’re strong. You don’t budge.

“Uh, buddy? Are you alright? What's going on?”

“You have to get out of here, like right now.”

“What, why? Can we calm down for a second?”

“Nonono, you can’t, you have to go now–” He tries to grab you and pick you up around the waist, but you spin around behind him, grab him by his collar and drag him inside the room.

“I’m being serious!” You shut the door, a laugh under your breath.

“I’m sure you are, so explain yourself first.”

“My roommate, he’s the Grand Scribe.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So he’s technically a Matra. And I wouldn’t put it behind him to do something so you need to… like, go, before he reports you or something! One word and the matra would come swarming in here like flies to honey.”

“But he won’t.”

“Darling listen–”

“But he won’t. Not only have I already done my community service, paid my fines, did my time and stayed out of trouble, he actually wanted to thank me.”

What? “Thank you for what?”

“For getting you inside quietly. He just came back from work he said, and didn’t want to deal with any of your drunken shenanigans. So he said it's alright that I picked the lock.”

“He told you it's alright?”

“Yeah, as long as I use the extra key next time.”

“What?!” He threw his hands up in the air.

“He told you where the secret key is?”

“Yep. And he said that he's gonna give me a copy of the new one.” You pop the ‘p’.

“And sorry, the stipulation that I can use it is that I’m not allowed to let you know where it is.” He sucks his teeth and they laugh, reaching out to tug the sleeve of his shirt.

“Sorry love. But come now, take off those scarves so you can lay down, alright? It's late.” And something goes warm and gooey when you use that soft tone of voice, so Kaveh does exactly that, and takes the glass from you with a grateful look when you hand it to him.

“Does your head hurt?”

“Just a little. Not as bad as it usually does.”

“See? That's why you drink water before you pregame.”

“Well now I know for the next time.” He takes a big gulp and hands the rest of the glass to you, waving it away when you try to put it back in his hands.

“Oh, fine.” You finish it yourself then, and Kaveh falls back into the sheets, heavy lidded once more.

“How come you’re not drunk or stumbling, hm? It’s not fair.”

“Oh, I am drunk,” you giggle, “I just know how to hide it really well.”

“It's not fair.”

“That’s because I'm from Monstadt dear, my blood has at least a 10% alcohol content.” Kaveh sighs and covers his eyes, drinking in the quiet. You’re sitting next to him, humming softly under your breath, a brush away from fully singing.

“Hey, why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Call me those pet names. Like honey or dear or love. Why do you do that?” He looks and catches the tail end of your shrug.

“Because you're my friend. You’re like, the only real friend I've made in this entire damn nation, so I gotta be a little sweet with you, yeah?"

“Sweet with me?” He turns so he's facing you.

“Yeah! You make syrup with honey and not salt, right?” You smile, gold flashing at your throat in the low lamp light.

This close he can see the warm flush that the alcohol has given you, the way you give your smiles even more easily than you normally do, eyes soft and direct.

If he’s being a little honest, Kaveh has a bit of a crush on you. There's no other way to put it. He's so excited to see you, whenever he can, whenever you can, and he wants to see you now more than ever. He wishes you didn’t have to hide so often because he wants to be seen out in public with you, not sneaking like teenagers to some seedy bar, where people are too drunk or too downtrodden to care who comes in.

You…like those kinds of places though, odd as you are. You order a drink, and as soon as you down it you're tuning up an instrument and springing into song. By the third song the whole bar or tavern is joining in, and tears are replaced with smiles, at least for that night.

“Will you stay the night?”

You laugh, again. “And where would I sleep, silly?”

“Right here. Right next to me.”

“Oh, I could never.”

“But you could.”

“I could. But I won't.” You move to get off the bed and Kaveh shoots up, grabbing onto your sleeve.

“Then you can have the bed. Just, stay here. For now. Until morning.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, and his heart while you're at it, while he waits for your answer. Maybe it's because of the way he implores you, or this quiet moment of the night, but you sigh and he knows you’ve given in.

“The bed is big enough for the both of us. Scoot over.” He does as he's told and hopes his face isn't giving his excitement away. He slides under the covers while you slip off your outer layers, and soon enough he can feel you slither beneath the sheets next to him.

“You want to keep the lamp on?”

“No, turn it off.”

“Alright.” The room floods in darkness, and you settle back down.

He’s had a couple sleepovers before. Although, the majority of these were before his father’s…incident, while he was still a very young boy. The others were during his Akademiya days, and were most often just him and his colleagues passing out after days of working on a project non-stop.

So this was new. He’s perfectly aware of his and your bodies; every shift, every position, the way your breathing sounds. He wonders how he’s gonna fall asleep like this.

“Kaveh?”

“Yes?”

“Are you up?”

“Yeah. How else could I answer you?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” You giggle. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did love.”

“Another question, silly.”

“Of course.” You wriggle a bit till you're laying on your stomach, face towards him.

“Why didn't you come to the anniversary performance? The one with me and Miss Nilou?” He winces, and turns to face you too.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you come?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was work?” He sighs.

“Really. I had to meet some bigshot client and I tried but I couldn’t reschedule.

“I really wanted to go.”

“...Yeah, I wanted you to go too.” The guilt twists and churns inside him, and he sits up in bed.

“I'm sorry, truly. Tell me when the next one is and I'll be there, I promise. I’ll even miss an appointment if I have to.”

The silence reigns heavy, you don't speak. He's about to repeat his words, swear on them, when you answer him.

“Cyno came and interrogated Zubayr and his son. He then had the members takes a few days leave of absence so that he could interrogate us each. So, Zubayr decided that I shouldn't have any more performances, for the time being. The whole thing with Cyno put the theater on blast, so no more future performances.” Your voice is somber and dull, like a worn knife, disappointment sour.

“And no more public performances either, huh?”

“Not for a while. Cyno is keeping a closer eye out on me. The only reason I could go out with you today was because he had to go out on an excursion, and I know how to avoid the lower Matra.’ You sigh and roll over onto your back.

“So maybe its better if you didn’t come. You would have been targeted too if you were seen with me.”

“...Well, you might not be able to perform publicly, but The Akademiya has no say in what goes on in private property.”

“So?”

“If you…ever want to sing or dance or anything really, you can come find me. This place was given to Alhaitham and I to be refurbished as living quarters, or you can even find me at the Architects Guild, since that building isn’t government owned.”

“Kaveh,” and now it's your turn to sit up. “I can’t put you in danger like that.”

“I won't be in danger.”

“You know, better than I probably do, that the Akademiya don't like outliers. I’m an outlier. If they come to know that you’re friends with me, what do you think will happen to you?”

“It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong. Not really.”

“I’ve undermined them and they really don’t like that. It's hard enough for you, the light of the Kshahrewar, to get clients and make ends meet. I don't want to make things any harder.”

“Things are already hard and I'm doing fine enough, so you don't need to worry about me. The worst I’ll have to deal with is a couple of rumors, and those are everywhere in Sumeru.

"If my reputation is as good as people proclaim I can survive a few rumors.. Furthermore,” He cuts you off as you open your mouth to speak.

“I know how hard it is for you to be here. I know you feel like you have something to prove but that doesn't mean I don't want to make things easier for you, even at my own slight expense. You can't change my mind, love, so don’t try.” Silence returns to the room in a wave, while you two stay poised, tense. Kaveh doesn’t know if you can see him in the darkness; he stares into the room until the dark takes over his vision, blinding him until he blinks it back again.

“I used to be a knight you know,” You speak.” Back home in Monstadt, I was a part of the Knights of Favonius.”

“Oh, wow, that’s amazing.”

“I quit,” You continue without fanfare.

“I started to hate my life, and hate myself. I was young too, and I was in a relationship that was falling apart and my whole life felt like it was ending.” You laugh.

“Goes to show how naive I was then. But I quit, and I left, and I just decided to do the things that made me happy, and went along with my morals. I never wanted to feel so miserable and hopeless ever again. Those feelings still sometimes come back, but what I do then is go to where the people were, and sing, make them smile and laugh.

“I don't have that option in Sumeru. I mean I do but, it's never been a choice I’ve ever been actively punished for, before. I'm going to keep doing it of course. I’ll be damned if I ever let a government silence me, but…

“But it still hurts a little, you know?” He reaches out and drags you closer till you're resting in his arms. You've hugged one another before, but this time he wraps his arms fully around you till your brow rests on his collarbone, his cheek against your hair.

“Well, my offer is open for you anytime, at least. I’m sorry my home hasn’t been exactly welcoming to you.”

“Mhm.”

“It must have been hard for you. I’m sorry.”

“You don't need to apologize,” You breathe, reaching to hold him back.

“You've been perfectly wonderful. I don't know what I would have done without you.”

“Well, we are both fellow artists on the brink of homelessness, so we ought to stick together.”

“If your roommate ever kicks you out you can stay with me. And if I'm ever kicked out we can roam the streets together.” He chuckles, and he's sure you can feel it where you're pressed to him.

“Well, I can play an instrument, so maybe we can be traveling bards. We can go to Fontaine and meet my mother.”

“Oh, that would be a shock, I bet. I met a girl in Liyue once who plays that Fontaine rock music. I could send her back something. Is your mother a nice lady?”

His chest twinges, remembering tears, heavy silences and dull eyes, The memory of sunshine.

“She's a rather shy woman, and she’s just gotten over some adversary. She's perfectly lovely.”

“What does she look like?"

“Well, I suppose you can look at me and figure it out,” He shrugs. “I've been told I look remarkably like her.”

“Oh, so she's beautiful then.” He starts, and he feels a flush crawl over his face, warm and slow.

“Oh, you sweet talker, you.” You tilt your face up and he's sure you have that sweet smile on your face, that cat's curl.

“I speak only the truth, my dear, I swear it. Anywho, how else am I supposed to keep you by my side, if not with my wily words?”

“Perhaps your fiery temperament? Your musical skill? Your graceful figure? Your sweet kisses?” And you reach up and kiss him, taking the bait.

And yes, you’ve done this before as well, nothing further, but Kaveh’s heart never fails to race. Your mouth is skilled in more than just song, and your tongue is sinfully soft.

You definitely feel the heat of his face when you pull away and rub your cheek against his.

“You’re absolutely precious Kaveh.”

‘Oh, don't patronize me,” He grumbles, and pulls you in even tighter, shoulder to hip aligned, legs entangled. “We have to sleep now. It’s late enough.”

“Why should we?” You flirt. You brush your mouth against his once more and snuggle yourself closer.

“”I'm afraid your kiss has sent my blood racing. It will be hard enough to go to sleep now.”

“Hm. Well, why don’t you sing then? Maybe something calming, a lullaby your mother would sing to you before bed.”

“Hm…I spoil you too much already.”

“But you'll do it, right?” He chuckles when you bonk your head against his. But you settle down, and it's not long till your voice comes hither, soft and lilting. It's hardly more than a tune under your breath, a hum in your throat, but it is soothing, and soon enough he’s actually asleep.

When he wakes up in the morning, the dull throb lessened but persistent in his head, you are not in his bed, or his home. There's only a single note, a badly drawn winking rabbit, but he smiles and pockets it, getting ready for another day. He’ll run into you again soon enough. And if not, then he’ll simply find you.

There seems to be a commotion a few streets away, from what he could hear. Kaveh sighs, harsh and loud, and pushes himself off the wall that he's been leaning against. He came out for some fresh air, and the promise of some spectacle does not entice him. He starts making the trek back to the Architects guild.

Pounding footsteps slap the ground behind him, and he turns just in time for a figure to dash into him. He barely shakes off his shock before he reaches out to half catch the person, but the weight drags him down and he falls too.

“What the hell…? Archons, are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry for being in the way.” And its the way you turn your head to check behind you that gives him a clear look at your face, familIar and shocking. He barely has the sense of mind to reply back, struck like hammer against a molten steel.

He…hadn’t been looking for you, to be honest. It’s been three times already, that you’ve met but never properly seen nor greeted each other, and he had hoped another opportunity would just…come. Fall into his lap, luck be damned.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times and shame on the both of us.

So what could be said for a fourth time?

“....the General Mahamatra.”

“The what now?” the General Mahamatra? He heard the rumors, but he never thought that you would prove yourself trouble enough for the sages to deploy him. Against you?

You must have done something reckless, like dancing in the streets again. Or singing in the taverns or just being too you. You were lovely, but sumeru likes its lovely things in glass cases, not prancing in bars or dashing down alleyways.

You speak quickly, and the words just register in his brain before he hears the commotion in the plaza, nearer now, the wince on your face and the way you jolt, ready to flee. He makes a decision.

He grabs at the hand fate and has dealt him, and pulls you further inside the commercial alleyways, knowing exactly where he wants to take you and nothing of what he wants to say to you.

But he can start with this. “ I have heard of you! I’ve been wanting to meet you!” He grins, bright like a star.

“I’m Kaveh. You are?

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