« yoo, how are you? » mark asks waiting by your desk as you collect your stuff
« when did you even get there??? also we’ve been texting the whole time you know how i am »
« my class ended a bit early so i waited by the door and when people were leaving i thought i’d just come in, also it’s called courtesy the whole asking how you’re doing, so stop complaining this is me being nice » mark says as you both head out of the class
« righhtttt my bad sir , where are we going by the way? I don’t have classes for the rest of the day so I’m free if you want to hang out » you say
« I told you to stop flirting with me, you’re getting desperate and it shows » mark jokes as you slightly punch his arm
« we could grab lunch if you want to? also i don’t know where your friend is, i don’t think i saw him in your classroom but we can wait for him if you’d like » mark says looking around for hanbin you presume
« Bin went to a party last night, he sent me a text this morning he’s wasted and hungover and basically skipped class so we don’t have to wait for him this time, also i wouldn’t act like I’m the one that likes you too much given how you practically begged me not to leave the music group » you said trying to get back at him. It was kinda annoying how he shrugged and told you that you were right without fighting back tho.
« where the fuck are you taking me? this looks too expensive i don’t have that kind of money » you say as you guys near mark’s recommendation. you make a mental note to never trust the guy ever again when he tells you he knows a place
« don’t worry, i got the bill » he says
« man, you’re as broke as I am don’t even pretend with this gentleman shit » you say laughing
« dude you could’ve at least pretended for my ego, you suck. also it might look super fancy but it’s affordable don’t worry, not that i’d let you pay for your meal tho, i might be broke but I still know how to treat a lady thank you » he says holding the door of the establishment open for you
« I will wrestle you to the cash register don’t even play with me marcus lee » you say trailing behind him as he chuckles. you wonder if he’s making fun of your threat or if he’s laughing because of the nickname (the answer is both)
you were halfway through your meal when mark started to speak again
« man.. isn’t it kinda crazy? » he says looking at you
« what is? » you answer genuinely confused.. did this man think you’re sherlock holmes or something?? how would you know what he’s even talking about
« it’s kinda crazy how you, my diehard fan managed to be in the same music group as me. you hide your game pretty well though, sometimes i forget that you’re the president of my fan club » he says, you could see him holding back his laugh so hard. crazy how this man was openly making fun of you like that
« what happened to ‘let’s not talk about this ever again’? also, considering how you’ve been hyping me up these past few weeks i’d say that the roles have reversed and you’re my die hard fan now, you even said so yesterday » you reply
« i never said any of that you are mistaking me for another man on your roster » mark answers
« let’s not lie like that we both remember the messages… and stop slut shaming me we are in public. and considering the amount of girls that want you i’d say you’re more likely to be the slut » you says hoping that’ll shut him up
« ooo are you jealous that everybody wants me?? » he says. the answer is yes but you’ll never tell him that of course.
« stop being so cocky before i slap that smirk off your face » you reply lowkey glaring at him
« you didn’t deny it though » he says cockily. this man was aggravating you
« god you’re becoming worse than hyuck. actually nevermind you are worse than hyuck constantly asking me for validation and compliments » you say smiling
« ouchhh okay i get it my bad, i’ll stop asking for validation and compliments the minute I’m 100% sure that I’m your favorite. also i don’t think it’s fair how donghyuck and jisung get to have cute nicknames while you call me marcus » he says kinda sulking
« oh sorry my bad dork lee » you say laughing while he just gives you the middle finger « also i call you markie so you do have a cute nickname stop complaining and eat your food » you say as he just goes like « oooooh, that’s right » remembering the nickname you gave him.
as you guys were finishing the meal you excused yourself to go to the toilet (little did he know you were actually paying the bill like the gentleman you are)
as you come back to the table you see mark trying to grab the waiter attention
« what are you doing? stop doing that you’re giving me the ick » you say sitting back down
« man fuck you, it’s not my fault nobody sees me i just want to pay the bill. and don’t fight me on this please » he says continuing his gesture to grab the staff’s attention
« mark i paid the bill already that’s why no one is coming please stop » you say grabbing his hand to put it down
« WHAT???!!!! » he replies
« man… i can’t believe you paid the bill. next time’s one me tho » he says holding the door open for you to get out
« is this an attempt to ask me out on a date? » you ask. yea that’s right. uno reverse bitch
« sorry i don’t date fans » he replies. ooooooooh this man is 100% aggravating
« by the way I texted you earlier to give you something but I’m really fucking nervous so I’ve been delaying it this whole time, but no more delaying shit I’ve got this I think. Also if you think it’s weird thennn pretend i never gave you shit ok? » he says sorta hyping himself up in the middle before opening his palm revealing a black guitar keychain
you burst out laughing
« I think this is worse than if you would’ve told me that you hated it. I’m literally contemplating suicide right now don’t even play with me » he says as you laugh even harder because his antics were really making it worse
A few seconds later and in between giggles you decide to speak « no.. wait, i swear I’m not making fun of you, I swear I find this unbelievably sweet, you’ll understand why I’m laughing just give me a second » you say reaching into your bag pulling out a spiderman lego keychain you grabbed from the same store earlier to give to him as a present
« this is for you, i bought it earlier because it reminded me of you, since you said you liked spiderman and since your twitter header is a lego character » you say finding it amusing how you both got each other a keychain
« dudeeee you need to stop doing this to me I’ll cry i love it so much, also look i got myself a guitar keychain to match yours » he says showing you the other keychain
« i also got a keychain to match the one i got you hold on » you say showing yours
« it’s crazy how we thought of the same thing tho, we’re like… spiritually connected » he says as the both of you start walking to head back to your apartment because even though you’ve been making fun of him for his gentleman antics, deep down (you didn’t even have to look hard to see it) mark was a good guy and no matter the time of day, he’s going to walk you back home.
you wonder if it’s because you like him but you know that if he keeps on acting the way he’s acting, this whole crush was going to be even worse than it is…
39. double matching
previous chapter masterlist
notes: ended this on sort of a cliffhanger lolll, also this is not proofread at all sooooo idk probably a bunch of mistakes i just cba
taglist : @imsiriuslyreal @iscocohere @simpforarmihn @replayenthusiast @lovm4rk @youreintheclubb @polarisjisung @sour-chaos @jising-jisang-jisung @aerivrs @multifandomania @tiddygang2020 @roseangelxfuma @skepvids @morkiee @yangasm @artstaeh @pussyslayerhd @bacons-thighs @bugcattie @leefullsun @jkslvsnella @alethea-moon @marvelahsobx @haechansbbg @katsukis1wife @winuvs @n0hyuck @whats-my-question @dojaejunging @hibernatinghamster @user7520 @m1dn1ghtv1olet @starwonb1n @lostinneocity @miniature-tragedy @llearlert @haezyhyuck @inosfavgf @bluesinfinities @calumsfringe @cigarettesafterjae @defzcl @delfdiary @minkyuncutie @bunnyjaycheoluwu @sofix-hc7
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THE EMPEROR'S NEW GROOVE (2000) PROMPTS
* assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary
how shall i do it?
oh, is that hard to believe?
is this really the best you could do?
check out this piece of work.
i'm here because i received a summons.
word on the street is you can fix my problem.
the drinks were a bit on the warm side.
okay, i admit it. maybe i wasn’t as nice as i should have been.
do you really want to kill me?
so is everything ready for tonight?
i thought we’d start off with a soup and a light salad, and then see how we feel after that.
we’re about to go over a huge waterfall.
bring it on.
you got all that, honey?
what about dinner?
all right. a quick cup of coffee.
but what does that have to do with anything?
you’re sort of confusing me.
how did you get back here before us?
by all accounts, it doesn’t make sense.
i never liked your spinach puffs.
ah. should have seen that coming.
you know what, you could have told me that before i set it up.
now you stop being hard on yourself. all is forgiven.
it’s not the first time i was tossed out of a window, and it won’t be the last.
what can i say? i’m a rebel.
i can’t believe this is happening!
break the door down!
are you kidding me? this is hand-carved mahogany.
so you lied to me.
couldn’t pull the wool over your eyes, huh.
why did i risk my life for a selfish brat like you?
i was always taught that there was some good in everyone, but, oh, you proved me wrong.
now i feel really bad.
you threw off my groove!
he didn’t pay his check.
this had better be good!
this is the last time we take directions from a squirrel.
yeah, like that would ever happen.
will you take a look at this?
oh, is that hard to believe?
just thought i’d give you a heads up.
what do you mean the door’s stuck? try jiggling the handle.
you’re the criminal mastermind here, not me.
just leave me alone.
it’s my birthday gift to me. i’m so happy.
hey, it doesn’t always have to be about you.
uh, he doesn’t really wanna talk to you.
hey, did you see that sky today? talk about blue.
don’t drink the wine.
our moment of triumph approaches!
oh, he’s doing his own theme music.
i’m so glad i was unconscious for all of this.
you’re not just gonna let him die like that, are you?
don’t listen to that guy.
if it were me, i’d march right back there and demand to see him.
you just saved my life!
believe it or not, i think i need a bath.
maybe i’m just new to this whole rescuing thing, but this, to me, might be considered kind of a step backwards.
i ate a bug today!
what is this guy babbling about?
i’ll be sure to tell him you stopped by.
i gotta go wash something.
anything sounds bad when you say it with that attitude.
let me guess, you have a great personality.
thanks for going back on your promise!
how long has that been there?
someday you’re gonna wind up all alone, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.
hmm. don’t know, don’t care. how’s that?
for the last time, it was not a kiss.
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I spent a couple hours trying to decipher and write down the lyrics to the stolitz duet (I’ll keep updating as more recordings are posted, hopefully the unintelligible lyrics are easier to hear in at least one!)
Lyrics below the cut (question marks in parentheses mean I’m not 100% sure)
S: thank you too (?????)
The butterflies in my stomach, I have’t felt this nervous(??????) since I was a little fluffy dove, nesting my
Daring do, his half disguise, behind the smile my beak is grinding, never minding
I swore I couldn’t dwell on the divorce, so for my own health, I’ll remind myself
That when I see him, I know that it won’t be so tough, I’ll believe him and not the voice inside of my own head(?!?)
Instead(?) of our arrangement, it can just be him and me, how perfect it could be, when I see him tonight
B: it’s time to meet?(??) alright, alright! It’s been a while since he came for attention! Are we okay? I can’t really say, I’m getting by by avoiding his questions
So complicated, I hate when it’s complicated, why do I alway end up in situations that are complicated
Here I go again, getting in my head, so I’ll focus on the sexy stuff instead
S: when I see him
B: I’m gonna do that thing he likes(??)
S: when he sees me(?)
B: we don’t have to change things, I’ll just bring a load of spice
S: —(???) make things worse
B: we’ve got a nice arrangement, and it’s working out just fine, we’ll keep it light(?)
S: I’ll fucking die alone if this goes bad tonight
Both?: when I see him tonight
S: am I doing something I can’t take back
B: relax
S: would he want me if he was free
B: we’re fine!
S: and if he’s only here as a prisoner, what kind of monster does that make me? My entire life’s been written in stone
B: we’re gonna bone
S: he taught me that I could choose
B: cool
S: he deserves a choice to stay or go, though it scares me to think what i’d loose
B: I can’t wait to lose ourselves in nasty sex and make that bird SQUAK
S: what do I(???) ———- (???)
B: we’ll just stick with what makes sense, like him sucking my
S: co ————(??????)
B: who needs words when you’ve got a mouth full of
S: come to your senses
B: ———-(???)
S: this will be(?) all for love and trust
B: I’ll leave his bird puss nice and rough
S: I will love(?????) him soon
B: he’ll be coming-
both: -soon enough
B: oh yeah!
S: when I see him, will it be tender or be tough? Will it please him, or will I just be fucking it all up? Can this be a relationship, or am I still naïve?
I’ll set us free, whatever it may be, when I see him tonight
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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine
TW: little bit of nsfw, BDSM mention, angst
You shouldn’t be googling ‘how to tell a guy no in a nice way’ at the nurse’s station, but something has to be done. You thought after you left Julian’s place that there would be a mutual understanding of “this isn’t going to work out, we’re too incompatible”, but he didn’t seem to get that memo.
The gifts just keep coming:
A pretty black silk dress in your exact size by Prada. Two crescent thin golden bangles for each wrist from Tiffany & Co that come in a robin’s egg blue box wrapped in a white satin ribbon. Upon close examination, you make out that they are subtly engraved in slanting script, JM. Really? His initials? You almost chuck them out the window just for that.
An expensive lunch from the fancy bistro that you can never afford, though you would have preferred a gourmet sandwich to an artisan salad.
A bouquet of fifty fucking red roses for Christ’s sake. They take up so much room at the nurse’s station that they’re a nuisance. They’re addressed to you, not signed—but you know exactly who they’re from. Then you have to field all the annoying questions about who’s your secret admirer? You hear Karen grumble that it must be that Officer Romeo and didn’t know cops got paid that good.
If only they knew. It would serve Julian right, if you just ratted him out to everyone.
This has to stop.
“Julian?”
He looks up from his mountain of paperwork. “Hey, look who it is. Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine. How are you?” Yeah, great, egg this on a little bit more instead of getting to the point. When will you learn?
“I’m spectacular,” he says. “I was wondering if you were alright because you called off for the first time yesterday?”
Yeah, so I didn’t have to face you after receiving the expensive ass jewelry…
Your smile feels forced enough to induce a migraine, but at least it gives you an idea for an excuse. “Yeah, I had a really bad migraine.”
“Oh, that’s not good. Do you get them frequently?”
“Yes.” It’s not exactly a lie, although these migraines you’re admitting to are actually just mild caffeine withdrawal headaches when you don’t have enough time to drink your coffee.
“Have you talked to your primary care provider about it?” He asks, standing up to flash his penlight in your eyes and dilate your pupils. He grips your chin and turns your head to check lateral eye movement, but you stop him.
“Julian, I’m fine. I didn’t have a stroke.”
“Don’t tell me you’re fine if you’re not fine,” he orders. “I can see there’s something wrong. You're pale and clammy.” He pulls out his big leather chair and guides you to sit in it. “Tell me what I can do to help.”
You look up at him, at this kind eyed, two sided man, and can’t do it. You can’t tell him to stop sending you gifts or buying you food, because you don’t want to be an asshole and you don’t want to hurt his feelings. Your nerves die along with your resolve.
“There, see, you look like you’re feeling better already. I’ll go buy you some water.”
“No, you don’t-“ he’s already gone halfway down the hall with those mile long legs.
You decide to take all the expensive gifts and shove them in the bottom of your closet to avoid feeling guilty when looking at them. But that doesn’t change the fact that you still have to look at Dr. Mercer and endure his caring, golden retriever persona.
This is what happens when you lie to yourself. You swear off relationships, move to a different part of the country, and then decide to go on a date—idiot—and these are the consequences for it. You feel like you have absolutely betrayed that girl that packed up her whole life to come to LA for a fresh start, and you’re sure she’s not forgiving you this time.
“No more,” you say to yourself, pushing the gift boxes to the back of the cobwebby closet. “No more dates, no more men. No more heartbreak. You stupid bitch. Yes, that includes Tom Ludlow. Shut up. I said. No. Tom. Ludlow.”
You end up screaming into a pillow, then calling your sister. She doesn’t answer, which is typical—probably on the road or using again or even dead in a ditch for all you know.
“Hey, Aggie, it’s me, gimme a call.” You play the voicemail back and then decide to delete it and hang up. You’re not exactly on speaking terms, but that ebbs and flows from one year to the next, so you’re not sure what she’ll think or do when she sees your name on her phone screen.
Your friend, Sheila, doesn’t answer either; she’s probably at work.
It sucks. You could really use some reassurance and comfort that you’re not alone or unwanted in this fucked up little world. Maybe that’s why you end up with your finger hovering over Tom Ludlow’s number while you sit on the floor of your bedroom. You stare at those digits for a long time, then tuck your phone away and cry.
You only get a chance to dive a little bit into this self pity session before your phone rings from your pocket. It’s not Aggie, nor Sheila, but a number you’ve unintentionally memorized nonetheless.
Now, you really have to fight with every piece of yourself not to answer Tom Ludlow. The lecture you just monologued becomes irrelevant next to the burning, awful fucking desire to hear him talk. You almost pick it up. Almost.
Watching your phone ring and ring, his name emblazoned on the screen, without answering feels like cutting out your heart and crushing it under your heel.
It goes to voicemail, but he hangs up before leaving a message.
A part of you that you didn’t even know that you need dies.
Good. Good riddance. Your heart only gets you into huge fucking trouble anyway.
You wait for your inner strength to return over the days that go by afterwards. Tom continues to call. You keep declining to answer. For some reason, you feel worse and worse every time the phone ceases to ring.
Where is you fucking girl power now?
All you really feel, is empty, and that is the vulnerable state Julian finds you in one late night at the nurses station.
“Y/n,” he greets you, leaning on the counter, looking down at you with a glimmer of something dangerous in his dark eyes. It’s a look he almost never lets out of the box while at the hospital, and suddenly your heart is in your throat.
“Doctor.”
For some reason this causes him to smile down at you, a slight curl of lips that unleashes a handful of fluttering butterflies in your belly.
“I’ve been thinking about you.”
You recall the massive bouquet of pure white lilies he had sent to your door yesterday, and believe him.
“Julian…”
He comes around the counter, smooth as a dark lake, reminding you of when he jumped over the couch and chased you like he was a wolf rather than a golden retriever. Your pussy gives a timid little throb at this, almost as if she’s asking for permission to come out after days of being punished, locked away in her gilded cage while you dealt with other, more pressing emotions, like the one that stabs you repeatedly in the chest while you let Tom Ludlow’s number go to voicemail.
“I can’t stop-“ he clears his throat, chin up as if he’s trying not to be nervous, and brushes some wispy, rogue hair off your neck. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” You can tell by the black matte of his eyes he means more than just platonically.
Every hair on your body stands at attention for that hungry, eat you alive look on the handsome Doctor’s face. Part of you, and it’s a bigger part than you’d like to admit, wants to have a gag stuffed down your throat and a tight slip knot holding it in place so that he can do whatever he wants without you ruining things with your fat mouth again.
“We’re just. We’re really not—Fuck.” You slap your forehead into your hands, and he takes it out, ever so gently with a big, shiver-inducing palm at the back of your neck, gripped softly in your hair, not exactly pulling, but lifting your face up to look at him nonetheless.
“Please, just hear me out.” It doesn’t sound like he’s used that first word very often—maybe not ever, or at least not for a very long time. Dr. Mercer’s picture is in the dictionary under the word ‘Polite’, but he practically runs this hospital, and with that responsibility comes a certain authoritative entitlement.
“Julian, we’re at work.” You don’t know how he manages to get you on the desk without alerting anyone around. The way he can just lift you easy and gentle has a familiar desire bubbling hot in your hips, and you can’t decide if you’re glad that you chose to chart in a more secluded area of the floor tonight or not.
“I can’t help it.” It sounds like he’s honest about that, voice splintering and needy as he presses his hard torso between your soft thighs. “I know that I fucked up, but if I don’t get a second chance to at least try and rectify this…” He’s not usually a man that doesn’t know what he wants to say.
This whole swearing off men thing? How is it supposed to fucking work if the men look and act like Julian? How are you supposed to do the whole proverbial keep it in your pants bit when a sexy, tall, beautiful doctor wants—desperately—to string you up to his bed and do horrible things to your body?
You can’t believe these words are coming out of your traitor's mouth as you bend under his will: “what kind of a second chance?”
He kisses you in response, long and slow, tongue slipping teasingly against the sensitive inner sanctum of your mouth. It leaves your toes curling, your chest rising quick and rapid, your white knuckles clutching the polished counter. He’s not exactly nice about it, pressing you back into the lip of the granite, holding the entire side of your face in his hard grip, turning your mouth red and swollen.
You’re going to have to bleach wipe this desk after all of this is done, because the insistent need of his mouth is making your comfy cotton underwear damp and warm like a humid summer night back at home.
“Let me take you to the club. Let me show you…let me help you understand.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Isn’t that the fucking understatement of the century? It sounds like a terrible idea. But, you were the one that wanted to understand him better. “When?”
The thrill seeker, she’ll never die. She needs blood, she’s thirsty, she doesn’t want a boring life of reading and watching the news. She wants to go to a BDSM club in Venice with a fine ass doctor and probably ruin your—her life in the process.
“When are you off next?” The grin on Julian’s face is all Mr. Hyde.
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