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simpingland · 2 days

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Req: Can you write something with Ewan Mitchell and his co-star (pronounced feminine) where they are on the set of season 2 and how he is surprised by every performances that fem gives (Fem's character is bad and perverse), since since the recordings of season one he was already staring at her surprised by her actings and now with Season 2 he wants to spend more time with her, plus he likes her.

The Rehearsal// Ewan Mitchell x Fem!actress

Summary: Ewan is a method actor and it has been working fine for him. But he regrets this decision when season 2 of HOTD starts with a love scene, being partner with a lovely talented actress who propaply hates him and his mathods. But nothing is better than asking for help when one needs it, right?

|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|

Ewan watched from the monitor, patch removed but wig still on, your close-up was impressive. One look at you and you could see all the ambitions that were going through your character's mind, and he himself regretted not having told you yet. The good news was that filming for season two had just begun, and in this new season, Ewan had the opportunity to do scenes only with you.

They shouted cut, and you immediately broke into a smile, laughing after such an intense scene. You received compliments as you were photographed to keep the raccord straight.

"Congratulations, that's a good start," the director said to you. "Remember you have a special sequence tomorrow, get a good rest."

Yes, you remembered. And Tom (who played your brother Aegon) smiled mischievously at you. It was a kissing scene with Ewan, with whom you had barely exchanged a word since the moment you were confirmed as part of the cast, a year and a half ago. You only spoke a little at the audition, which was a chemistry test, and he was a sweet, unassuming guy. When he was announced as the official actor of Aemond... it was something different. You didn't interact in the scenes in the first season, his scenes were shared more with Fabien and Tom, while you had shared scenes with Olivia and Phia (Alicent and Helaena). The chemistry your characters were supposed to have was only hinted by the placement of you both in the scene or montages of shots that you only saw once the series was released. And in the meantime, Ewan had stayed away from all those with whom he didn't share any dialogue, with the excuse of staying focused on his character. Tom had already told you numerous times that Ewan thought you were a fantastic actress, but you always responded the same way.

"If he does, let him tell me so. Then I'll be flattered.”

When the script for the second season came, both of you, in your respective homes, had your hearts skipped a beat. Your character would approach Aemond in the throne room in the middle of the night. And there they not only talk, but share a kiss that promises to go further in the following seasons. Aemond confessed his love for your character, and being that it was a story taken from the world of Game of Thrones, it was sure to end in much more intimate scenes. Normal for actors and comfortable for a cast that was so friendly and close. But with Ewan being so distant and serious? It was difficult. You didn't even dare to call him. Nor did he call you. What you did do was call Tom.

"She hasn't spoken to me once since we started filming. I've seen her look at me sometimes, like she's trying to talk to me but then, before I could say a word, she's gone quiet again. Tom...I don't think I should take being a method actor so seriously," he said to the other actor.

"It amuses me immensely to be the connecting point for both of you. Don't worry, Ewan, she's a sweetheart, and very understanding. She knows that everyone has their own procedure. So if she has respected your method, you should respect hers."

"And what is her procedure?"

"According to Phia, she loves to walk back and forth repeating her lines in a thousand ways."

Right, Ewan saw the video Phia sent around the group so everyone could see how lunatic you looked. And even there, after discovering you were being filmed, you smiled tenderly at Phia asking her to stop. What else would he have missed since you weren't talking?

You had already taken off your wig, your hair was loose and your dress had been off for quite a while. You were waiting to take off your make-up when your trailer was called. You were expecting anyone, happy to have any interaction with the wonderful team around you, but when you saw Ewan, the smile must have dropped a little.

"Sorry if I'm intruding. Is it late?" Ewan asked you as he saw your friendly greeting getting lost in the air.

It wasn't dark yet, and the next day's filming was starting early, so you genuinely didn't know what to say to him.

"Well... I have to finish off some of the lines for tomorrow.’

The lines you had to say with him, and he knew that. But since that wasn't an invitation, Ewan understood instantly and nodded.

"Well, I just wanted to tell you...it's been an awesome first day of shooting for you. It's no wonder you're a fan favorite."

That made you blush.

"Well, that means a lot coming from you."

He smiled sheepishly at you, you were taller than he was, standing on the trailer and he was on the grass a few stairs down. And yet he seemed way too big.

"I promise I'll be on time tomorrow so we'll have plenty of time to rehearse," he said, trying to get out of the strange conversation he had started.

You nodded and watched as he walked away, the patch in his hand and taking off his seatbelts. Did he come with the intention of chatting? My God, you'd had a chance to talk at length with your fellow cast member and you'd wasted it? You needed to go over the scene as much as possible!

"Ewan!" You called out to him, hanging almost on your doorstep, he turned with that agility that is so engaging on screen (and in person). "Are you done for the day?"

"I've got to get out of my costume. But...yes, I'm done."

"Would you mind..." you mumbled in an exaggeratedly loud voice for him to hear. How embarrassing. "Would you mind dropping by again to rehearse?"

Ewan stood still for a second. He watched you from afar, so affectionate and shy, totally contrary to your character, and felt a deep tenderness.

"I'll be back in half an hour," he promised you.

You looked forward to it, and you'd be lying if you didn't say that you'd put your make-up back on a bit. Ewan, on the other hand, was hurrying more than usual to remove his own clothes, forgetting to remove his fake scars in the rush that followed him. He was punctual, and in thirty and a half minutes, he was knocking on your door again.

"I really appreciate you doing this, Ewan," you said as he climbed into your trailer.

"Don't worry, it's going to be fun."

You looked at each other for a second, smiling, kind of gawking, which was nothing like the scene you had to recreate.

"How do you prepare for a scene?" You ask.

"I listen to some music. But I want to try what you do. "

He looked at you expectantly, and you suddenly felt embarrassed. Like the girls at the school function.

"So... I close my eyes, and I create a map where everything looks a little bit like the set."

"And what do we choose to be the throne?" Ewan smiled, which made you blush even more.

"Well... "There was a fully finished teacup, with the inelegantly squeezed bag next to it, dripping. You'd forgotten to clean it up completely. "That cup itself."

Ewan frowned slightly, teasingly, and nodded. The next step for you was harder to explain.

"Now, Ewan, I need some space."

He sat down on your couch, script to one side, the bastard having already memorized it all. And from there he watched live what he'd been craving for months, watching you pace back and forth. You read the annotations and your lines.

"They will never forgive our family for what I did," Ewan replied, intoning in the silky voice he gave Aemond.

"If it's any consolation, I doubt they would be willing to let us live even if we had given them the throne willingly, Aemond..." though you paced, your hands and gestures maintained theatricality, and you repeated the phrase three more times, all with trapped deliberation. "This pantomime of repentance can only convince Mother...but not me."

"What pantomime do you mean?" replied Aemond.

Then your character stopped looking at Aemond to stare at the Throne. In this case you stopped to stare at the ugly teacup. You had to hold back a smile. Ewan looked at it too.

"It's impossible to fool you, it always has been." Ewan got up from the sofa and approached you, as Aemond does with your character. "It is a crude, chaotic and ugly object, but always that which I have desired."

Then the laughter you'd been holding back escaped, unable to think of the mug as anything else. And Ewan laughed with you, all the tension disappearing instantly. Now he could understand the affection with which everyone spoke of you.

"I'm sorry, really," you said, getting serious again. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise, this is fun. I'm going to try your method. Shall we close our eyes?"

"That's right."

You closed them at the same time, thinking about the huge room, illuminated by a silver light that simulated the moon. And after a few seconds, Ewan opened his eyes to look at you. Although you didn't have your white hair, or the elegant dress, your eyes were the same, as beautiful and bright as they were behind the cameras. And he had the privilege of being the focus of your attention and having them in the foreground.

"Though I think I was always more subtle with another of my longings..." he whispered close to your lips.

"That you tried at least" you whispered back.

"When I get the throne I'll need someone as sharp as you to accompany me. There is no woman in the seven kingdoms who compares to you."

Then came the kiss. You looked into Ewan's eyes, up his nose and down to his lips. What was there left to throw yourself? Not much, but with him being so reclusive, with that being one of the few times you spoke to each other, it felt strange to pounce on him without consent. So you walked away, leaving the scene there.

"We can work this out with the director and the intimacy coordinator, if you like," Ewan suggested, a little flushed and extremely sweet.

You poured him a cup of tea while you discussed the romance that your characters might have developed over the years that the series skips. You imagined romantic scenes that might have led up to that kiss and concluded that they were a toxic couple, but possibly better than Rhaenyra and Daemon.

"You know, I love the way you act and I love that I discovered your process," he confessed. "I think the admiration part is not going to be too hard to act out."

"Oh...my process is really ridiculous, everyone laughs at me. I'm glad it at least works. But it gives me a hard time at auditions," you laughed nervously.

"Well, it's true that it's fun to watch. But it's certainly worth it. I don't think you have anything to envy the others, you're...magnetic." He said it with a seriousness that moved you, adding to his intense gaze. "I'm sorry I wasn't smart enough to tell you sooner, because I've been thinking about it since the day they put me in the same room you were in, back at the audition.”

You froze a little, so you just said what you felt in the simplest way and with the most honest smile.

"Thank you."

Ewan took the last sip of his tea and before he left you remembered one of the thousand questions you had for him.

"Is there a reason you haven't removed the scar? Something to do with method acting?"

"Scar?"

You touched his cheek, where the scar began, and Ewan understood instantly.

"Ah, gee, I completely forgot to go through makeup. I'll get a telling off tomorrow."

"Not if you sleep on it until tomorrow" you joked. "Let me help you, I love fake wounds."

You stood next to him, towering over him a little, and lifted the thin layer of silicone with the delicacy you had seen in make-up artists. You were envious of the woman who was in charge of characterising a person as curiously attractive as Ewan. He also smelled exaggeratedly good.

When you took it off, you threw it into the creepy teacup from earlier.

"I've almost run out from, the costume department before," he justified himself. You took the opportunity to wipe that part of her face with a makeup remover wipe. "I usually do this part myself..."

"I know, but I like it..."

And while you were stroking his face with the excuse of cleaning it, Ewan was watching your lips, and didn't notice that you had noticed. You pushed the wipe away, stroking his chin, and at the same time, you both pressed your lips together. A strange kiss, something special, sweet and soft. You stretched it out, standing almost still, afraid of what would happen if you broke apart. When you finally did, you looked at each other with a look of confusion, though neither you nor Ewan pulled away.

It was a dangerous idea, he was your partner, and you had been unprofessional. You broke away.

"I think you should rest. I've distracted you too much." Your tone came out agitated and Ewan rose slowly.

"No, it's all right. I liked it. I liked everything. Didn't you?" He had emphasised the word 'everything' and was looking at you with lambent eyes.

"Yes...I loved being with you."

He said goodbye with a smile of his, and you bowed at your door like a little girl. Most of the team had already gone to rest and you barely noticed.

You had to put on more concealer than usual the next day because of the lack of sleep you'd had from that strange kiss. Ewan had kept his promise and had arrived a good while earlier to re-rehearse the scene. You did it without the kiss or the lights, just with the director's instructions and with your cheeks flushed as you exchanged glances.

"Did you practice with the kiss?" the intimacy coordinator asked you.

You were completely silent. Ewan answered for you.

"Not really, maybe it's better to give a first kiss at the moment of the shot. More realism."

"Well, then I guess you've worked out the sexual tension and dynamics of your characters."

Ewan nodded and smiled, which made you smile. Had he put hours of sleep into your little meeting yesterday? Yes, he had, and he told the woman who was putting on his scar who asked him who had removed it the day before. When you returned to the set, lights on, costumes on, cameras rolling, Ewan looked at you in the distance, asking you with his eyes if you were ready. You nodded with a shy smile, and began to act when they shouted action.

Aemond, still dressed and coming from the castle library, walked into the empty throne room to watch you. You walked behind him, in a smart dressing gown, your hair loose and trying uselessly not to make a sound. Aemond then spoke aloud.

"They will never forgive our family for what I did."

You approached Ewan, who still wouldn't look at you.

"If it's any consolation, I doubt they would be willing to let us live even if we had given them the throne willingly, Aemond..." You leaned into him a little, as the director had recommended. He was so tall and so tense that you felt as safe as if you were leaning against a stone pillar. "This pantomime of repentance can only convince Mother...but not me." Then Aemond would look down to see you out of the corner of his eye, which made your character - and you - nervous.

"What pantomime do you mean?"

Then you looked at the throne, now there was no laughter to disturb you, only the terrible seat of swords before you. And Aemond was looking at it too.

"It's impossible to fool you, it always has been. It is a brutish, chaotic, ugly object, but always that which I have desired."

After a pause, he turned fully around to look at you, his height becoming primordial in that short distance. In that low light, Ewan's visible eye looked into your eyes, dropping to your lips subtly.

"Though I think I was always more subtle with another of my longings..." he whispered in his velvety tone.

"That you tried at least" you replied trying to keep your composure. If they knew how hard you were struggling not to fall to your knees at that moment they would have nominated you for an Emmy by now.

"When I get the throne I'll need someone as clever as you to accompany me. There is no woman in the seven kingdoms who compares to you."

He stroked your face gently, something that coming from Ewan was tender and expected, immensely pleasing, but then you remembered that Aemond could never be so gentle in the face of his urges, and you let your own out. You pressed yourself against him, pressing your lips together with all the assurance you had longed for the night before. You could feel Ewan intensify your kiss even more, placing his hand on your neck. All the possible kisses that had been going on in your head during the night were now dwarfed by the kiss that was happening right there. As fierce as your characters, with the longing you had just discovered that you and Ewan had shared for a year and a half.

It was only when they shouted 'cut' that you broke apart, catching your breath and barely breaking away. Some applause, chatter and comments from the team, you could hear little of what they were saying. You pulled away flushed, laughing at the sudden intensity. You looked at the director as Ewan smoothed his jacket.

"Let's look at the shot, I think it was simply perfect, congratulations."

Another round of applause, and you felt Ewan brush your unruly hair out of your face, stroking it as he ruffled your hair.

"What a pity not to have to repeat this scene..." He confessed.

"That's the thing about being so talented," you joked.

"Obviously..." he removed his patch and turned back to you to ask in a quieter voice, "although I'd love to have more private acting classes with you..."

You smiled at the hint.

"I'll give them to you if in exchange you let me remove your fake scars again."

"Deal."

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd x reader #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell x reader #celebrities x reader #house of the dragon imagines #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon aemond

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manikas-whims · 2 days

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how Zayne from Love and Deepspace will react when he finds out you're on your period..

You get a call from the Akso Hospital and are suddenly requested to pay a visit.

You don't understand what's happening but leave your work desk all the same.

The moment you arrive and speak to the receptionist, she informs that you have a check-up scheduled with Dr. Zayne for today.

You're slightly surprised and confused because despite being a little messy, you do keep up with your own schedule, and you clearly don't remember having any such check-ups.

Regardless, you head towards Zayne’s office.

[moments later]

You give a knock on the door to announce your arrival before walking in.

Zayne is already putting down the documents in his hands and by the time you reach his desk, he's scrutinizing you, as if searching for any signs of something off with you.

“What is it?” You ask in frustration. There's a load of mission reports waiting at your work desk that you need to finish and submit this week, and frankly you don't have much time right now.

Zayne merely raises a brow as if offended by your curt tone.

“Sit.” He commands.

You deliberately sigh loudly before taking a seat. “I don't have any check-ups today, Zayne. Why did you call me?”

“Correct me if I am wrong but it must be the second day of your menstrual cycle?” He states so calmly as if making an absurd remark about the weather.

You're quite mortified for a moment. But then mortification is replaced by annoyance. Doctor or not, your periods are your problem and Zayne isn't supposed to comment on how you deal with them.

You narrow your eyes at him. “That’s..none of your business.”

“It is since your captain called up.” Zayne supplies calmly.

“Jenna?” You're confused. Why would she?

“She informed me about your not so peaceful conversation with a guy from the Data Analysis Department.” He speaks, his lips slowly curving up into a smirk.

“Nero was the one who wouldn't shut up!” You tell him.

“And she also informed me how you choked the life out of your coffee mug using your evol. That's a misconduct if I've ever heard of it.”

Okay misusing your evol wasn't exactly right. But crumbling your mug with it did help with the stomach cramps. Even if just a teensy bit.

By this point you’re gripping the armrests of the chair a little too tightly. His knowing smirk isn't helping either. Combining all that with your mood swings enrages you even more.

But before you can lash out at him. Give him the same treatment you gave Nero and your coffee mug. Say something that you'll definitely regret later on, he leaves his chair and comes to stand right in front of you.

“Take the rest of the day off.” He says. Neither a friendly suggestion nor a doctor's advice. Just an outright order. And you don't like that.

“I can’t. I have reports to finish.”

He sighs before fishing something out from one of his desk drawers. Then, he pours a glass of water and comes back to you, offering the said glass along with a pill in his other hand.

You immediately recognize the painkiller and shake your head. “I don't take those.”

“You should.” He says emphatically, nudging the items towards you.

“Absolutely not!” You feel your voice crack a little. You have a lot of work left to do. You really need to get going.

But Zayne isn't deterred by your words. He steps even closer, and speaks in a softer tone. The same one that he uses only on rare occasions. When he's being earnest to you.

“Not taking the painkillers doesn't make you stronger than the rest of the women in the world.” He puts the glass in your hand, and offers the pill again. “You must acknowledge your pain, and work to overcome it in the most efficient ways.”

You bite your lip because he's only being reasonable. You must look like an absolute brat to him.

“Fine.” Your voice comes out a little shaky from holding back your tears as you accept the pill and swallow it.

“Good girl.” He pats your head. “Now let’s get you home.”

You agree to take the remaining day off but he doesn’t need to waste anymore time on you. He must realize that he has his own share of work to do. And you are a responsible adult. You can’t always rely on him. You can do things on your own despite the hardships.

“I can go by myself.” You mumble.

“I know. But let me help. I have the right to help you.”

“You have the right to?” Once more, annoyance begins flaring up in your head. “On what account? Being my personal physician!?”

He smiles softly. Genuinely. “On account of being your friend.”

His admission stuns you into silence and you avert your gaze.

How can he be so kind? He's being so unfair! Now you look even worse of a brat.

You feel ashamed for behaving the way you did.

“Come on.” He beckons, offering a hand.

You hesitate for a moment before putting your own palm into his bigger one.

His fingers curl around your wrist instead and he tugs you forward, helping you stand, his arm now coming to wrap around your shoulder.

“Let’s go.”

He's already directing you out of the room and locking its door when you murmur. “Zayne?”

“What is it?” He asks as he tucks away his glasses into the pocket of his coat.

“Sorry for getting mad at you.”

He scoffs. “It’s understandable in your current predicament.”

You watch him fish out his car keys and speak again. “No seriously. Thank you for everything you do. You're more than just a friend.”

He cocks his head to the side but you still catch him smiling wide this time. “The feeling is mutual.”

Here it is! Hope y'all like it. I'm still new to writing for Love and Deepspace so bear with me 🥹

Rafayel version coming soon!

AND THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

=» Love and Deepspace Masterlist «=

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x mc #love and deepspace x reader #zayne love and deepspace #l&ds zayne #l&ds #zayne x you #zayne l&ds #love & deepspace #love and deepspace fanfic #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace headcanons

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pepsiboyy · 1 day

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HEALING HEARTS.

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: where chris has been distant and loses his temper. warnings: angstttt (resolved), use of y/n, cursing a/n: felt angsty yayyy love you guys <3

"chris, you can't keep shutting me out like this!" i shouted, my fists balled up as i stood in front of him.

for the last three weeks, chris has given me little to no response when i would ask him questions, ask how his game is going, or even if i asked what's been bothering him.

chris let out an agitated sigh as he peeled off his headset and spun in his gaming chair, turning to me with an irritated expression. "i'm not shutting you out, y/n, i just need space sometimes."

"space?" i questioned, my voice raising a bit as i spoke. "you've been distance for weeks now, i feel like i'm walking on eggshells around you." i stated firmly, my arms coming up to cross tightly.

chris let out an angry groan as he stood up form his chair. "here you fuckin' go, with your yappin' and shit."

"yapping!?" i brought a hand to my chest, genuinely shocked at his tone.

"maybe if you gave me some space to breathe, we wouldn't be in this argument." he stated, having taken a few steps towards me.

"i just want to understand what's going on with you, chris. we're supposed to be a team here." i stated softly, my head clenching.

chris turned his head to the side as he reciprocated the arm cross, his bangs covering his eyes. "doesn't feel like a team when all you do is question me. and everything i do. i mean come on."

i felt tears begin to well up in my eyes as i stared at chris. "i'm not.. i'm not trying to question you, i'm just worried about us.. i feel like i'm losing what i love most, i feel like i'm losing you."

chris's eyes remained on the wall. while it seemed like his expression softened for a moment, his frustrated expression quickly returned. "maybe you are, y/n. maybe this isn't working."

his words hung in the air. heavy and painful. i felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. "is that.. is that how you really feel?" i questioned, my voice trembling as it was just barely above a whisper.

chris's eyes remained to the side. "i don't know. i just can't keep doing this."

the silence that followed was deafening. with a soft wipe of a tear, i took a deep breath. "right. if that's how you feel, then i'll go." i stated, disbelief evident in my voice as i collected my hoodie and car keys.

chris seemed to take a shaky breath with some hesitation, his heart torn. but his anger and confusion seemed to get the better of him as he stood and watched me with an emotionless expression.

without another word, i stepped out of chris's room, the door slamming on my way out.

two days had gone by since that conversation, and i couldn't help but think about it every given moment. the scene repeated in my head.

my eyes remained glued to the ceiling, my body trembling from the cold. but i didn't have the energy to reach over and grip my blanket to pull over myself.

clank.

my eyes opened, but my body didn't move.

clank.

i slowly lifted my head and turned to the window that the sound had come from, flinching slightly when it had occurred a third time.

clank.

i shakily slid out of bed, finally gaining the energy to grab my blanket and wrap around myself.

the floorboard beneath me creaked as i took a few shaky steps, gently taking the thin curtain between my fingertips. i gently pulled it away and looked outside, flinching at the fourth rock that had come in contact with my window.

with a shaky grunt, i pulled open the window and looked outside.

my eyes met with a pair of bright blue ones, his brunette hair shaggy and his body covered in a black hoodie and blue jeans with air forces.

i stared at him in disbelief before i let out a deep sigh. "chris."

"can we please talk?" chris questioned.

i narrowed my eyes at him before i stepped back and shut my window, making my way down the stairs quickly and to the door.

when i opened the door, chris was already standing there.

i stared up into his eyes, which were red and brimmed with tears, probably similar to how mine looked.

"what are you doing here?" i questioned, my voice firm yet soft, as i hadn't really spoken much the last two days.

"i needed to see you," he said, his voice cracking slightly, "please, can i come in?"

with a soft nod, i stepped to the side and allowed him to make his way inside, shutting the door behind him.

we made our way to the kitchen, where i opened the fridge to shakily offer him a pepsi.

chris stared at it for a moment. he seemed to think about it. i furrowed my eyebrows, but they quickly returned to their original place as chris took the pepsi and smiled softly. "thanks."

we stood there for a moment, chris having yet to open his pepsi.

after a few moments, chris let out a deep sigh and set the pepsi down on the counter beside him. "y/n, i'm sorry." he began, his voice heavy with remorse. "i shouldn't have said what i said. i overreacted, and.. i was angry. and hurt. but that's no excuse."

i stared at him for a moment as i brought my arms up to cross over my chest.

"i know i've been pushing you away. i've been scared. scared of losing you, scared of getting hurt. but i realize now that pushing you away is the worst thing i could do."

tears welled up in my eyes as he spoke. "chris.."

chris very cautiously took a step closer to me. "i love you y/n, more than anything. and i'm willing to do what it takes to make this right. please, let me make this right. i want us to work. i want to be better for you."

i looked at him, searching his eyes for sincerity. i saw the pain and regret in them, but also a glimmer of hope. with a deep breath, i felt my own resolve wavering.

"chris, i need to know that you're serious. i need to know that you're not just doing this because you're afraid to lose me."

chis reached out, gently taking my hand. "i am serious, y/n. i've been doing a lot of thinking, and i realize that i need to face my fears and insecurities head-on. i want to work through them, with you. i want us to build a future together.

i felt my heart soften at his words. i had missed him so much. missed the warmth of his embrace and the way he made me feel safe. but i had to be sure.

"chris, if we're going to do this, we need to communicate better. we need to be honest with each other, even when it's hard."

chris nodded, his grip on my hand tightening. "i promise, y/n. no more hiding, no more running away. we'll face everything together."

i took a deep breath feeling a flicker of hope in my chest. i squeezed his hand gently, offering a small smile. "okay, let's try." i smiled and nodded reassuringly.

chris smiled brightly at me. "i'm willing to put in the effort. i just want to be with you."

we stood there, holding each other's gaze. in this moment, we both knew that we had a long road ahead, but we're willing to walk it together. the love we've shared is worth fighting for, and i know that we're ready to face whatever challenges come our way.

chris pulled me into a gentle embrace, his heart swelling with gratitude. "thank you, y/n. for giving us another chance."

i rested my head against chris's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heartbeat. "thank you for coming back for me. for us."

we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms. inside, we know we have a lot to work through, but i know we're ready to face it together. one step at a time. and with the glimmer of hope that we both feel, i can't wait for the brighter future built on love, trust, and understanding.

taglist;; @sturnsxplr-25 @vampiree-555 @wh0resstuff @jetaimevous @sturnioloshacker

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris #angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo angst

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xoxochb · 3 days

Note

May I request a Luke Castellan x Aphrodite! reader. The reader was with Luke, Annabeth, Grover, and Thalia before they arrived at camp. Since they’ve arrived, Luke and the reader haven’t spoken much. When they’re sent on a quest together, Luke and the reader begin to talk again.

˗ˋ now pretty baby I’m running back home to you ˊ˗

warnings: this is a little lengthy, theres angst at the beginning, but there is a happy ending!

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite

summary: read the request!

A/N: this is the first fic I’ve actually been really proud of, I’m gonna cry

you remember the first day you got to camp, it was rough, confusing, and overwhelming, and on top of all that- one of your best friends got turned into a tree

but now it’s been four months since then, and you were one of the lucky demigods that had gotten claimed within a month by aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty. It wasn’t all that bad being here, but the worst part was that you haven’t spoken to luke since you got here

he was your best friend, yes, but with getting settled into camp, and now that he’s a counselor of his cabin, there’s no time to talk, and even if you did talk it was awkward, just simple a simple ‘hi’ or ‘how are you’

you don’t really know what made you guys stop talking in the first place, because when you first got to camp there was no camp duties to attend to yet, so you had plenty of free time, but things were weird between you two

it wasn’t you who drifted away from him, it was the other way around, and you didn’t understand why he did it. you recall countless times trying to ask him why he wouldn’t even care to look you in the eyes, but he would ignore or dodge the question every time

the first time you talked to him after three months was when you got assigned a quest by your mothe. you were asked to bring her back a stolen seashell, one that was very sacred to her.

you were instructed to bring at least one person on the quest with you, and you had no clue who you were even going to bring, you didn’t have much friends since you were still new, and you’re only friends were either too young, a literal tree, or was ignoring you

but alas, you caught luke by the lake one night skipping rocks on the water

now’s the perfect time, talk to him!

at first you seemed confident about this, but the closer you got, the faster your heart started beating

oh my gods, seriously? he’s your best friend!!

“are you going to sit or are you going to continue staring at me?”

you jump at his words, “I’m sorry I- uhm, can I sit?”

“I just told you” his eyes meet yours for the first time in months

“can we talk?” you take a seat ok the grass beside him

“that’s what we’re doing right now isn’t it?”

sarcastic as always

you roll your eyes, “I suppose” you take a deep breath before your next words “I got assigned a quest”

“I heard” he hands you a rock, and you take it

“yeah, well, chiron said I can’t go alone, said j have to take someone with me” you skip the rock on the water

“and you want me to go with you?”

he knows you too well

“yes, but if you don’t want to that’s fine, it’s just that I don’t really have anyone else to go with me and you were- are my best friend”

you’re a helpless mess

“of course I’ll go”

“luke- if you don’t want to go I won’t be insulted, I could just find someone else, I’ll work something-”

he cuts you off, “you haven’t changed” he laughs

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” you stand up, thinking he’s making fun of you

he quickly stands up beside you, “no it’s a good thing, a really good thing, I’m glad you’re not like all the other stupid aphrodite kids”

“those are my siblings” you cross your arms, but in truth you can’t be mad at him, you could never be mad at him

“I know you don’t like some of them”

why does he have to know you so well?!

“only some” you look down at your feet, fighting the smile making its way to your face

you don’t understand how you went to long without him, this is the happiest you’ve been in months

“I don’t know if I can say this, but I really miss you” he looks at you with those wounded puppy eyes

“I really miss you too” you grin widely, what’s the point in fighting it anymore?

- 🏹 -

the quest was going okay until you got ambushed by a hoard of monsters, and you almost died

and you like to think that you survived because of love and happiness (you made a mental note to never tell your mother about this, you hated when she was right)

you remember that night under the tree, luke held your helpless body in his arms, your stomach bleeding out, a concussed head and broken ankle, you didn’t think you would survive, you were fully convinced these would be your last moments, but as you laid there, eyes on the stars and the feeling of luke’s arms holding on to you so gently, you thought you could have died happy if your last moments were with him

the bad part about your non-death was that you were injured and luke was crying. you never saw him cry, in all the years you knew him he never shed a tear in front of you

but here he sits, sobbing like a baby, begging you not to die, and seeing him so heartbroken over you healed you in a way, not because he was sad, of course not, but because he didn’t want you to die, because between sobs he mumbled a simple ‘I love you’ which was only three words, but meant so much to you

you also recall a week later when you were sitting in the infirmary, healing under the powers of the apollo cabin, luke not once leaving your side

you asked him, “why wouldn’t you talk to me?”

and you didn’t need to specify because he knew what you were talking about, because he knew you

“I was scared” he does anything but look at you, but you know by the way he grips onto your hand so tightly that it means nothing bad, “I was scared of losing you. after thalia, I was worried that you would get taken away from me the same way she did, and the fear of you being gone forever kept me up every night- it still does, but I thought that if I just stopped talking to you, then if I lost you it wouldn’t hurt as much as it would if we were close”

you thought your wounds hurt- they did, very much so, but his words felt like a stab to the heart

“why didn’t you just talk to me? luke- I’m your best friend, you can tell me this stuff, I’ll never judge you for it, I swear it on the river styx” you squeeze his hand, something simple, but it always calmed him

“I thought that when you got claimed by aphrodite you would think I’m just some stupid boy you used to know, because gods, you’re gorgeous, I should have known she was your mother, but I didn’t think you’d want to be around me because I’m just me”

every word hurts, you wish he wouldn’t speak so poorly about himself

“I love you”

It’s three words, three simple words, but it means so much to luke, more than anything, and when he hears them, small tears start falling down his face

“oh luke” you sit up, and as much as it hurts, it doesn’t matter to you, because what matters most is the boy on your side

you cup his face in your hands and kiss each cheek were the tears had fell “please don’t cry, I don’t like seeing you cry”

“I love you too” he pulls you in for a gentle hug, nuzzling his face into your shoulder, taking in your scent, “I don’t want to lose you”

“you won’t lose me, I promise”

he tightens his grip on you, yet still careful of your fragile state

and you stay like that for maybe five minutes? you lost track of time, you knew it was best for him to let his tears out then keep them in, and once he’s calm he pulls away, eyes permanently glued to you

“I’m sorry” he wipes his tears

“you didn’t do anything wrong” you frown

“I feel guilty for ignoring you all those months”

“luke, it’s fine, we’re okay, aren’t we?” you cup his face again, and he leans into your palms

“y/n?” he mutters

“yes?” oh you’re soft voice, he wants to melt

“can I kiss you?” he smiles for the first time in two weeks

you can’t help but smile, seeing him happy makes you incredibly happy, and without saying anything you pull his lips to yours for a gentle, but passionate kiss

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #pjo spoilers #percy series #pjo tv show #pjo hoo toa #pjo disney+#luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #xoxochb

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moonlightspencie · 3 days

Note

Okay so reader has to take care of baby James potter because of a potion incident that made James age back wards and turned into a toddler.

this made me giggle. i made him as a baby baby instead of a toddler just so he couldn't talk lol

pairing: no pairing because james is a baby lmaooo

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

Sirius woke up in the wee hours of the morning to the sound of crying. Now, this wasn't necessarily unusual after his friends had spent a night out, especially when it was James and Y/N. But this sounded... different.

He got up, shuffling tiredly into the living room of their shared flat.

"Love, what is going on? It's three in the morning," he grumbled, then paused in his tracks, looking bewildered. "What is that?"

Y/N looked up, slightly frazzled and holding a baby on the couch.

"What do you mean?"

Sirius gave a bewildered look, pointing at the baby. "That!"

"A baby."

"Why do you have a baby? How did you possibly go out and come back with a baby?" His eyes were wide and confused. "Trust me, I know how that process works, and last I checked you need about nine months to cook one of those."

"Obviously he's not my baby."

"Who's baby is it!?"

Y/N swallowed, looking at the baby and then back at Sirius with a slightly guilty look.

"Well... we were messing around at Marlene's place. She found some old spellbook, and drinks were involved, and..."

"Wait, didn't you go with James?"

"Yes."

"And? Where did you leave him?"

Y/N merely lifted up the baby, his chubby little legs kicking in the air. Sirius quirked a brow, shaking his head.

"Well?"

"I didn't leave him."

Sirius blanched a little as the realization hit him. He looked between the baby, then to Y/N. Then back to the baby, and back to Y/N.

"...no," he shook his head.

"Yeah," Y/N sighed, lowering little baby James again.

"What the hell," Sirius muttered, far too tired for this. "How did this even happen? How long is this supposed to last?"

"The spell is supposed to wear off within 24 hours. But... come on. He's so cute like this!"

Baby James cooed, babbling at Sirius as if anyone would understand him.

"He's a baby!" Sirius exclaimed.

"Yeah, and he can't talk back as one!"

Sirius paused for a moment. "Good point. Just... it's too fucking late for this."

"Hey!" Y/N exclaimed.

"What?"

"Not in front of James."

"He's 25 years old!" Sirius scoffed in disbelief.

"Not right now he isn't!"

Remus shuffled out at that point, hearing voices in the living room.

"What's going on out..." Remus's eyes widened. He stared at the baby, making eye contact as the little guy babbled on again. "There's a baby in here."

"It's James," Y/N said nonchalantly, bouncing the little guy as he giggled.

Remus stared for a moment, clearly shocked. "Excuse me?"

"Don't ask," Sirius sighed, pushing past Remus. He called back over his shoulder. "Just keep him quiet. He's annoying enough when he cries fully grown."

#james potter #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter drabble #james potter oneshot #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders x reader #hp marauders #luna still hates jk #sirius black #remus lupin #gender neutral reader

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bvidzsoo · 3 days

Text

Love Me Like A Rockstar (9)

Chapter 9: You (Show Me Where My Days Went)

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

Warning: cursing

Word count: 9.8k

Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au

Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hi, lovelies!! LMLAR is BACK!! I am sooo happy I could finally update and just write, y'all have no idea! I am so sorry for making you wait so long for this update, but finishing my thesis was super important! I still have to study and such this month, but I promise next update won't take as long as this one did! (I'm writing other stories too while writing this one, so that kinda backfires sometimes lol) I am forever grateful that you are patient and stick around for the new chapters, this story is so dear to me you wouldn't even believe it. I am also super grateful and happy whenever you leave feedback, so please, keep on doing just that!<3 This chapter only exists because I was randomly inspired, and I'd like to apologize if it's a little rusty, I always have to get in "character" when I write this story lol. I am soo excited for next chapter, I think it's going to surprise you hehe. PLS PLS imagine that airport look from Mingi when reading this chapter, the pics from the moodboard, you'll see during which part! I also have a very small surprise at the end of this chapter hehe. I hope the time jumps aren't too confusing:(( Please, listen to the song called You before or while reading! Enough yapping, I hope you enjoy and leave feedback! (Taglist is always open for those interested! ^^)

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red

@sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng

@deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf

@hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

Later that day

I hate him: hey…just checking in that I got home safely what are u up to?

I blinked, fingers tightening around my phone before I locked it, leaving the message on unread. My mother’s shuffling outside my door caught my attention, bringing a smile onto my lips as I watched her struggle while bringing all the dirty laundry to the bathroom. Then, I got off my bed to go help her.

Friday (11:30 am)

I hate him: i see u still haven’t checked my message… nothing too worrisome u certainly know how to make a man yearn for you lol that was a joke…dont freak out on me pls (lowkey true tho)

Friday (12:50 pm)

I hate him: lol, wooyoung has been bitching about seulgi’s professor for half an hour now mr. kwon u know him? i mean…i suppose he also teaches u i should take a sneaky video for u…wooyoung looks like a clown hanging upside down my bed and pouting like a damn child too (dont say im also one, thanks)

Friday (15:26 pm)

I hate him: well…ik my messages are going through so uh… why tf are u ignoring me???! *cries and dies in loneliness* entertain me dollll!!! im so bored pls oh…u said u had an important assignment…i bet u’re busy with that sorry for spamming u (text back tho when u’re done, im dying here…wooyoung is with seulgi and so is seonghwa with hongjoong…the single life sucks, bestie…lets be single and depressed together<3)

My jaw clenched as I heaved a long sigh, falling back on my bed as the sun shone brightly through my open window, the light breeze making me shiver as I only wore a t-shirt and sweats. Autumn was slowly turning into winter; the weather wasn’t so warm anymore. I threw another look at my phone, unlocked it, and stared at the received messages from Mingi for a second before finally deciding to delete them from my notification center, rolling over in bed to muffle a frustrated scream into my soft, and purple, pillow.

Saturday (9:09 am)

I hate him: i had the weirdest dream and im not even sure i want to tell u about it LOL but uh…a grisly was chasing me??? and then u appeared on a fucking white horse like a prince LOL and threatened to like…slay it if it didnt leave me alone??? honestly…what a slay, bestie good morning, btw, doll hope u had a better night’s sleep than me (and dreamed of me ehehehe)

Saturday (17:40 pm)

I hate him: i cant believe i allowed myself to be fooled like this back in highschool yuyu and i used to play baseball for shits and giggles and hongjoong (that rich prick) rented a whole ass baseball field for us for the afternoon and let us play with some of his (rich af) friends and uh… i think i wont be able to walk straight for another week with how much running i did… hongjoong kept scoring homeruns…i wish yuyu was here to kick his loser ass (dont tell hwa or hong i said that PLS) yo doll…everything’s alright with u? uh u…really havent answered me since… yk…i stayed over and waited for the rain to stop… have i done something wrong?

I sighed and put my phone on ‘do not disturb’, suddenly having lost all of my appetite as I forced the rest of the lettuce down my throat. My mother was sipping her kiwi and apple smoothie, eyes narrowed as she muttered to herself while trying to memorize the recipe of a dessert for later. Desserts were never her forte, unfortunately.

“Is it Seulgi?” She asked absentmindedly as I took a large gulp of my own smoothie, staring down at my salad, steak pushed to the side in my plate.

“Huh?” I asked distracted, eyes still glued to the dark screen of my phone.

“Texting you, your phone keeps buzzing, my starlight.” I rolled my eyes at the nickname, but didn’t bother to comment on it. I took a peek at my mother and her eyes were narrowed at me already, video on YouTube paused. Fuck, I had to answer her now or else she’d pester me all day long. And that would be a nightmare.

“Yeah, it’s Seulgi.” I lied, trying to make my voice sound convincing.

“Well, answer her then, don’t be rude.” My mother chastised me, pressing play on her video again, pursing her lips as she shook her head at whatever the man baking was saying.

“Later.” I whispered, biting my lower lip as my eyes remained glued to my phone, stomach clenching and heart dropping.

But I couldn’t.

Sunday (1:01 am)

I hate him: …you’re ignoring me, arent u? im sorry, y/n, i dont know what i did wrong, but we can talk about it we’re friends, after all…right?

『When you came along, I knew what was wrong

If you want to know exactly what I've missed』

Monday (present time)

It truly would have been a missed opportunity if Seulgi and I wouldn’t have grabbed coffee and went to sit in our usual spot in the back garden. The campus of our University was huge and that was perfect, because it meant people migrated and didn’t stay in one spot for long—at least long enough to irritate me to no end. Last week deemed to be rather rough, and I still didn’t feel like completely myself. To be honest, I thought about staying home today—and for the rest of the week—but I couldn’t afford missing any of my classes as exam period was slowly nearing, and so, I had to force my ass out of the house this morning before my mother could come and nag me about my weirdly unusual broody mood that has been going on for the past few days.

I hummed as I took a sip of my sweet coffee, enjoying the taste of warm caramel as Seulgi sighed loudly next to me, both hands cupped around her own coffee cup. The scent of cinnamon wafted from her cup and I scrunched up my nose, not too fond of the ingredient’s smell. Our classes started early in the morning today and we’d be here for at least four more hours, caffeine seemed like our only hope to stay awake and aware at this point. Given the fact that my baffling thoughts kept me up all night yesterday, I felt grateful that I was still on my feet at two o’clock at noon. As Seulgi fidgeted again, I chuckled and finally turned my head to look at her. She had a sheepish look on her face, and I tried not to laugh as I knew she was bursting to tell me all about her date with Wooyoung on Saturday.

“Well,” I started as I took a sip of my coffee, prolonging the suspense for her, “how did your date go?”

“It was amazing!” I had barely finished asking as Seulgi exclaimed, her cheeks turning rosy—and it wasn’t due to the cold air, “Wooyoung is—everything I thought he would be. He’s sweet and up for anything, he makes me laugh until I feel like passing out, and there’s just never a dull moment with him, you know?”

“One would expect that from him.” I muttered against my cup, laughing as Seulgi nudged my side, not looking too happy with my comment, “Oh, come on, it would be hard for Wooyoung to be different than the way he mostly presents himself; don’t you think?”

Seulgi grumbled something against her cup as she lightly bit into the carton, shooting me a pointed stare, “Well, yes, but…he makes me happy. Treats me well and all that, you know, he’s the perfect embodiment of what a boyfriend should be like.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” I teased with a smirk, wriggling my eyebrows at my best friend as her cheeks flushed an even darker color as she bit her lower lip, trying to mask the huge grin expanding on her lips. But as soon as I started giggling, Seulgi also broke out in a fit of giggles, hiding herself behind her wavy hair, pressing her cup of coffee against her face.

“God, I’m so down bad for him, Y/N, I don’t think you’d understand.” She mused, voice airy as she threw her head back, leaning back against the back of the bench. I chuckled and took another sip of my drink.

“Maybe I’d do.” I muttered, memories of my relationship with Yunho resurfacing. Thankfully, however, I managed to repress them as quickly as they came. They didn’t feel so gut-wrenching anymore, and to my surprise, didn’t leave a bitter taste in its wake either. What has changed? Certainly—certainly getting closer to his best friend didn’t influence the way I feel about Yunho, right? Right.

“So,” I glanced at Seulgi from the corner of my eyes as she swung her legs, looking down at her feet in the process, “how are you?”

“Fine, why?” I asked confused, angling my body to face Seulgi better.

“You’ve been…distant the whole weekend. I could barely reach you.” Seulgi’s voice sounded small and I gulped, feeling bad for making her worry about me, “You know…the last time you pulled away and disappeared, it was bad.”

“I promise you I am doing completely fine, Seulgi, you’d be the first person to know if I was in a bad headspace again, alright?” I reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Seulgi sighed and then raised her head to look at me, lips pulled into a thin line.

“Promise?”

“Of course, I promise.” I smiled at her warmly and she hummed in contentment, squeezing my hand back as she took a sip of her coffee. I followed suit before removing my hand from hers to fiddle with my half empty cup, “I’m just dealing with some things right now. I think I’m confused.”

“About what?” Seulgi asked curiously, leaning closer as I continued to avoid eye contact with her.

“I’ll tell you once I have my thoughts sorted about it.” I chuckled, making Seulgi roll her eyes in displeasure.

“You know, I tell you absolutely everything about myself and how I fell, and you always shut me out and tell me how you felt about a situation when it’s been over for years.” Seulgi pouted, narrowing her eyes at me, “How’s that fair, Y/N?”

“Hey, we work differently, don’t try to guilt trip me now.” I chuckled and took a sip of my coffee, making Seulgi roll her eyes, “Anyways, what did you do on your date with Wooyoung?”

“We went to the cinema,” Seulgi’s face lit up once again, grinning from ear to ear, “He bought me roses, a big bouquet. And after the movie we went for a walk and ended up stargazing in his cabriolet. It was really romantic.”

I smiled, feeling happy for my friend, she deserved someone like Wooyoung, “That actually sounds really amazing…and romantic.”

“Oh, my God, are you really Y/N? Where is my friend that hates anything that has to do with romance, cute stuff, and love?!” Seulgi’s shocked face was mocking and I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I leaned back against the back of the bench.

“I don’t hate it, I’m just not a huge fan of all of those things, okay?!” I shrugged, letting my arms fall from my chest as I pushed them inside my coat’s pockets.

“Who’s the culprit?” When I raised my eyebrows at Seulgi, a sign that I didn’t understand her question, she chuckled and leaned closer, “Who’s the man that’s changing your views on life, huh?”

“Man?” I asked with a scoff, giving Seulgi a deadpanned expression, “Does it always have to be about a man? Can’t it be just the fact that I had a change of mind?”

“Sure, because of someone.” Seulgi had a smug look on her face, acting as if she won the argument. But there was no argument here and she had no idea what she was talking about.

“Whatever—” But I got cut off as her phone dinged loudly. Seulgi, very comically, scrambled to reach for her phone and as she opened it up, a wide grin stretched onto her lips. It didn’t take two braincells to realize who had texted her, and thus, I chuckled and turned my head. I sipped my coffee, taking in my environment while Seulgi answered her boyfriend, giggling quietly every now and then.

The campus was finally silent and not as busy as it usually was in the early morning hours. The cold weather also helped in keeping the garden a little quieter as most people preferred to stay inside the warm corridors and classrooms. But the chilly air was good, it soothed my nerves and erased thoughts that weren’t productive. Similar to that, were the emotions that I didn’t want to deal with again, like the guilt that’s never left me ever since Mingi walked out of my house wearing Yunho’s old clothes. It felt wrong letting him take them without knowing the truth about them, but I didn’t feel ready to tell him yet about the truth. I was scared, surprisingly, of what he’d think of me once he found out about Yunho and I. I was scared that—he’d walk away, like Yunho had once done. And that was a very frightening thought. But when had I become so attached to Mingi? When has Mingi managed to infiltrate himself so thoroughly in my life, that the thought of completely losing him became scary? And why was I taking the past few days so badly? It’s not like we were as close as Seulgi and I, or him and Seonghwa and Wooyoung, yet, ignoring him felt like the wrong move to do. However, the reasoning I always circled back to was the fact that I needed space. I had to clear my mind, to find the purpose of this whole friendship that’s been blooming between us, and to make sense of everything. I had to figure out first why Yunho barely scraped my thoughts now, and why was it was Mingi who I found myself thinking of so often. In case you were wondering, no, I still haven’t found the reason, and it was becoming frustrating quite quickly. That near kiss was a—mistake. Yet, it could have been so much worse—it could have been a real kiss. And a real kiss would have ruined everything. I didn’t want to open up to anyone just yet, not when the memories of Yunho still haunted me in my dreams and drawings. Drawings that now more often than not consisted of Song Mingi.

And to my horror, the flipping of paper sheets is what alerted me back to my surroundings as I had been lost in my thoughts, oblivious to Seulgi putting her phone down and grabbing my sketchbook that lay between the two of us on the bench. As I turned my head, my eyes widened as Seulgi’s expression held surprise but amusement as well. She chuckled as she looked up, making eye contact with me. I lunged forward in an instant, trying to take my sketchbook out of her hands, but she leaned back and away, putting it behind herself.

“Bitch, I’m not the only one who’s down bad for a man.” She said with a laugh, making me groan as I gave up trying to snatch my sketchbook back from her.

“I’m not down bad for a man, Seulgi, stop this non-sense.” I hissed, cheeks burning in embarrassment as she kept flipping through my drawings.

“Please,” She scoffed, turning my sketchbook around and making me grimace as I came face to face with an exact replica of Mingi, sitting in his chair, at his studio that one time he invited me inside, “Who the fuck draws so many drawings of one single person if they aren’t in love with them—”

“I’m not in love with Mingi, stop it!” I exclaimed, heart beating fast as Seulgi raised her eyebrows at me, looking unimpressed, “Don’t ever again say that, Seulgi.”

“Okay, calm down, whatever. You’re not in love with Mingi.” She chuckled, closing my sketchbook but she didn’t hand it back yet, “But let’s face it, Y/N, you have a thing for Mingi. It’s super freaking obvious even without the drawings.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I hissed and finally snatched the sketchbook out of her hands, clutching it to my chest. I knew bringing this along today would turn out to be a mistake, and here I was, facing the repercussions of my actions.

“There’s this glint in your eyes whenever you look at him—”

“Yeah, it’s called dislike.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

“And I see how you struggle to refrain yourself from smiling when you’re around him—”

“Bitch, be for real, Mingi and I aren’t even often together around you for you to notice that.” I scoffed, completely appealed by whatever absurd claims my best friend was making.

“So you’re not denying it—would it really be so bad if you liked Mingi?” But Seulgi ignored all my interruption as she raised her eyebrows at me, smiling softly, “He’s a nice guy. Very well-mannered and with a big, and good heart. Wooyoung loves him a lot and is always worrying about him. He says Mingi hasn’t been the same ever since his best friend moved away for college—”

“Mingi is Yunho’s best friend!” I blurted out before I could stop myself, finally feeling like a stone was taken off my chest as I bit my lower lip, averting my eyes from Seulgi’s shocked expression, “Mingi is the best friend Yunho had always talked so much about while we were together. I—do you understand why it would be so bad if I ended up liking Mingi?”

“Y/N,” Seulgi whispered, eyebrows furrowed, “for how long have you know?”

“Long enough.” I muttered before clearing my throat, “So please understand that I’m not ready for whatever the hell me drawing all those sketches of Mingi could mean. A month ago I was close to bursting out crying even at the thought of Yunho, and now I fail to remember his existence on my best days.”

When I dared take a peek at Seulgi, she was smiling softly, almost proudly, “Fine, I’ll pester you about this later on, when you’ve figured things out, but until then—you can’t deny Mingi isn’t hot—”

“Can we stop talking about Min—”

“Hi, girls!” I jumped in fright at the overly excited and shrill greeting as both Seulgi and I turned our heads to be met with…Wooyoung and Mingi. Speak of the devil. Suddenly, there was a lump in my throat, and my heart started beating just a little bit faster as my eyes fell on Mingi’s tall form. It didn’t help that underneath his coat he was wearing Yunho’s sweater—the one I had given him.

“Hi.” Seulgi giggled as Wooyoung leaned down to press a kiss against her cheek, the two looking sickly in love. It was actually endearing, but I’d never admit it out loud for my own sake as I knew I’d get teased about it by Seulgi. I averted my eyes from Wooyoung and Seulgi as they were muttering things to each other, and so, had no choice but to look up at Mingi, who looked—expressionless. Something in my stomach dropped at his cold demeanor, and it was worse that I wanted to assume it was my fault that he looked like that. But just as I was about to look away, he cracked the tiniest smile ever, and I exhaled, licking my lips.

“Hi.” My voice was small as I gulped, eyes trans-fixated on the tall man as his smile became just a little wider. I don’t think I had the power to ignore him anymore, not when he was standing right in front of me, looking like he wished to be anywhere but here.

“Hi, Y/N.” Having not heard his voice in days, it sounded even deeper and raspier than usually, making butterflies erupt in my stomach as my grip tightened around my sketchbook. I felt a little awkward, perhaps even tense, as Mingi didn’t say anything else, just continued gazing down at me with his sharp dark brown eyes boring into my own. I had so many things that I could’ve said to him, but I felt tongue tied. I didn’t know what would be the right way to approach him after I ignored him for so many days. Would he understand? Is he mad at me now? Does he hate me now? Will he forgive me—

“Okay,” Wooyoung chuckled, syllable drawn out and sounding amused, “I feel like I’m interrupting something here, yet they are basically just staring at each other.”

“You’re right.” Seulgi giggled, and I finally looked away from Mingi, throwing a glare at my best friend as she had leaned into Wooyoung’s side, who stood next to the bench and her.

“Shush, you two.” Mingi beat me to telling the two love-birds off, and I couldn’t help but smile, “Don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong to.”

“Look who’s lecturing me about poking my nose where it doesn’t belong to—”

“Wooyoung.” Mingi’s tone held a warning, and it made Wooyoung giggle as he leaned down and pressed a fat kiss against Seulgi’s cheek—again—making her push him away playfully.

“We’re headed to class, are you coming over later?” Wooyoung smiled down at his girlfriend, playing with a strand of her hair.

“Maybe, if I get to finish my project.” Seulgi said with a pout and Wooyoung hummed, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips this time around. I averted my eyes, not a fan of seeing couples kiss, only to catch Mingi already looking at me. He was expressionless once again, but he was fidgeting with his fingers, looking almost nervous. And as Wooyoung stood up straight and ruffled Seulgi’s hair affectionately, Mingi took a deep breath.

“Will you come to Outlaw this Friday?” He asked in a rush, sounding almost reluctant as his eyebrows furrowed slightly and he chewed on his lower lip. To my horror, I found my eyes fixated on his plush mouth and I gulped before I quickly averted my eyes, praying that nobody caught it.

“Yes.” I answered before Seulgi could, and nodded, smiling a little bit, “I won’t miss it.”

A beautiful smile spread on Mingi’s lips and he nodded once, looking too happy for something so little. I don’t think I’ll understand anytime soon why he gets so excited and happy when I listen to his songs or watch him perform. I’m no expert when it comes to music, my feedback is merely amateur and I’m not even a fan of his band yet.

“Cool, see you then.” And Mingi didn’t wait for Wooyoung as he turned around and walked away, steps hurried. I didn’t miss the confused glance Wooyoung and Seulgi shared before Wooyoung was off, chasing after his best friend. And maybe I would be soon able to make sense of my thoughts and feelings around Mingi, figure out what they meant and why they felt so real at times.

Monday (16:58 pm)

I hate him: hi Me: hi I hate him: would it be a lot if i asked to meet u tomorrow? Me: no, im free in the afternoon I hate him: cool, me too so uh…we can hang out in my studio? Me: or we can go to that new café with pottery I hate him: really? Me: u did say u wanted us to go… I hate him: i certainly said so i’ll pick u up around 4 Me: u don’t have to i’ll meet you there I hate him: come on, y/n…let me drive u Me: u’ve driven me around too many times by now i’ll meet u there and that’s final. I hate him: okay, boss, see ya there Me: :))

Getting here before four o’clock and having to wait in front of the cute café had no business being this nerve-wrecking. Yeah, Mingi hasn’t shown up yet—but perhaps that’s because there were still ten minutes until it’d be four—and I knew I had no reason to think he’d bail on me, but we hadn’t spoken since yesterday, when he had asked me if we could hang out. And so, waiting for him shouldn’t have had me breaking out in a sweat despite the cold weather, making me bite my lower lip harshly as I tried to smooth down the wool, green, brown, and beige patterned coat I was wearing. First of all, why the hell would I be so nervous about meeting up with Mingi alone at this cute café? He probably wanted to talk about that near kiss, and once we had that cleared, things would go back to normal—right?!

And maybe that was the reason which made me want to vomit on the sidewalk, the thought that I knew Mingi would demand answers—answers that I wasn’t yet ready to hand out. Why did I even agree to this? Because I missed him? I should have just stayed at home and done the project I’ve been procrastinating on—again. But when I heard the rumble of Mingi’s old Honda’s engine, I knew there was no turning back, catching the bus and running home to hide underneath my blanket.

As Mingi took his time to parallel park, I took a deep breath and gripped onto the strap of my tote bag harder, looking down at myself. My apricot orange sneakers matched the color of my blouse, the top two buttons out of five undone, but not showing too much skin. My blouse was tucked inside my washed out high waisted mom jeans, the black belt matching the color of my tote bag—I know black isn’t a color, I’m an arts major after all. My hair was pulled in a low ponytail just to prevent the wind from blowing it in my face, and I was thankful that I chose my wool coat as it kept me warm enough. I have opted to wear quite a few rings today, and because my neck felt too exposed, I decorated it with three necklaces of different length. I gulped hard one last time as Mingi got out of his car and took a few seconds until he managed to lock it. However, those few seconds were exactly what I needed to prepare myself to not pass out at the full sight of him.

Mingi, in true fashion to him, wore all black, except for his jeans that were a very dark shade of blue, almost black too. His turtleneck was tucked inside his jeans, a black coat with a hood keeping him warm from the cold late autumn weather. It almost made me smile upon seeing his own tote bag, black, and funnily matching mine. Except that his was plain, while mine had Claude Monet’s Water-Lily Pond painting painted on it, done by none other than yours truly, me. Mingi’s eyes were concealed by black sunglasses, and I snorted as he almost splashed himself up by stepping a little too enthusiastically into a big puddle. Two necklaces hung around his neck, reaching down his chest. A very obvious and sturdy silver cross necklace, and another longer chain that had pearls scarcely strung on it. And in true Song Mingi fashion, his rings weren’t missing, only two of his nails painted black on each hand, almost as if he didn’t have time to finish doing them. My heart racing in my chest so fast just at the mere sight of him, certainly wasn’t healthy, right?

“Hi!” I squeaked out and wished to burry myself instantly as Mingi chuckled, a very charming smile spreading onto his lips. It was a little annoying that I couldn’t see his eyes, forced to stare at his plush lips instead—let’s be real, nobody forced me, I did it because I couldn’t help myself, “The sun is quite blinding today, isn’t it?”

And of course, in good old fashion, my mouth worked before my brain would agree to saying something out loud, and my cheeks were burning as I knew Mingi saw me look at his lips. I had to divert the attention somehow, and teasing him was my best method, actually. It always worked.

“I’m trying to make a fashion statement,” Mingi grinned as he gripped the sunglasses and took them off in a very unnaturally hot way, “but hello to you too.”

“No need for a fashion statement when it’s just the two of us,” I narrowed my eyes, finding Mingi’s hair very soft and fluffy looking, almost as if he had recently washed it, and it wasn’t completely dry, “I’m not one of your fans.”

“Pity,” Mingi hummed, stepping slightly closer to me, “I thought I might just finally wove you.”

I scoffed, and as I was about to tell him off, he grabbed my tote bag and pulled me after himself, headed for the entrance of the café, “Did you have to wait long for me? Traffic was busier today, I had to take a few detours to get here in time.”

“Don’t worry,” I smiled as he opened the door for me and let me walk inside first, “I only waited half an hour for you to arrive, runway princess.”

“Runway princess?!” Mingi’s eyes bulged for a second before he started laughing loudly, making a few customers glance our way as we made it inside the café. I elbowed him in the stomach gently, not too keen of having people glare at us as he disturbed their peace.

“Don’t like the nickname?” I asked with a raised brow as we neared the front desk. The cashier had a friendly smile on her face while she greeted us as Mingi and I looked up at the menu, trying to decide what we’d like to have.

“Never said that,” Mingi answered with a chuckle as he threw me a quick glance, “it’s just surprising coming from you.”

“Why, can’t I call you a princess?” I chuckled, turning to face the cashier as I have made up my mind about what I’d like to have.

“Up until now you seemed to prefer the term ‘bro’, but I’m fine with whatever you decide on calling me, doll.” The look the cashier gave us made my cheeks flame up and I cleared my throat loudly, shooting Mingi a look that told him to shut up.

“Sorry about that,” I muttered embarrassed, smiling at the cashier, “can I get a strawberry cheesecake?”

“Sure, right away, and you, sir?” Her attention was on Mingi now, cheeks flushing the longer she looked at him. Okay, I could totally understand why. Mingi looked quite good right now, it was hard not to ogle him.

“A mint-chocolate cheesecake and a cappuccino?” Mingi hummed, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he looked down at the cashier.

“Plain cappuccino or with vanilla?” The cashier typed in our orders as she asked Mingi, averting her eyes shyly once he looked at her, pursing his lips.

“Plain,” He decided at last, turning to look at me, “are you not getting anything to drink?”

“An orange fresh will be alright.” I said as I reached inside my bag to fish around for my wallet.

“And would you also like to paint some pottery?” The cashier asked, pointing behind herself at all the displayed options. Mingi and I shared a look and I smiled as I nodded at him, making him grin from ear to ear.

“Yeah, we’ll paint some pottery too. Can I have a cup?” He asked, pointing at one on the higher shelf. It was a smaller cup, specifically made for drinking coffee. The cashier nodded and then looked at me expectantly.

“Uh, a mug will do for me.” I said and thanked her once she handed us the pottery and the paint that was used for painting these. Then, she tapped a few more on her tablet and told us the total. I opened my wallet to pay for my purchase, but Mingi had a card in his hands, the cashier already typing in the total sum for him to pay.

“Mingi,” I hissed quietly, looking at him with a frown, “what are you doing?”

“It was my idea to come here—”

“No, it wasn’t.” I cut him off, fingers curling into the scratchy fabric of his coat as I reached out to hold it, “I suggested we come here instead of going to your studio.”

Mingi sighed and pocketed his card, already having paid, then turned his body to face mine. I didn’t let go of his coat just yet, “Yeah, but when I drove you home during that downpour I asked you if you’d come here with me. So technically, it was my idea. Initially, anyways, it really was.”

“Mingi—” I started, but soon swallowed my words as he stepped closer, invading my personal space. My fingers tightened more into his coat and I gulped, suddenly feeling nervous due to our proximity. He faintly smelled of vanilla, it was a fragrance I didn’t except to smell on him.

“Can you not fight me on this one, please?” Mingi’s eyebrows slightly furrowed and his eyes softened up and I—struggled to breathe for a second as I stared up in his pleading eyes, mouth going dry. He looked—adorable like this, and I did not like the way I felt myself getting lost in his soft gaze.

“Let’s find a table.” I muttered, forcing myself out of the trance he placed on me, and grabbed my mug and the painting supplies. Mingi followed suit as he took his own cup and followed after me closely. We walked further inside the café and found a smaller table in the next room, closer towards the window. The walls were painted a faint orange and were decorated by white stripes that created abstract shapes. The chandeliers were white and hung low, the place well-lit for those who wished to paint pottery.

I placed the things in my hands on the table carefully, and then discarded my coat on the back of my chair and my tote bag by the leg of the table, pulling my chair out for myself. Mingi followed suit, however, he managed to almost send his cup tumbling to the floor when he took his seat. His eyes were wide as he just barely caught the cup, and I giggled as I watched him while opening the box that held all the paint. Thankfully, the table was spacious enough to harbor both our pottery and paints as the cashier brought out our delicacies. She threw Mingi a lasting look before she hurried back to the front desk, glancing our way at times.

“This is going to be a tough one.” Mingi said before scooping up a bit of his cheesecake with his little spoon.

“Why?” I asked with a chuckle, choosing a thin brush to start painting some flowers on my mug. My cheesecake could wait.

“Because I’m literally sat at a table with an arts major, having to decorate some cup by painting.” Mingi sounded stressed and I chuckled as I looked up at him, amused by his expression. His hair fell in his eyes a bit, and I found myself absentmindedly reaching over the table to brush it to the side. Almost as if realizing at the same time what I had done, we both froze. It felt like time stilled around us as I watched Mingi with a gaping mouth, slowly but surely, my cheeks becoming the color of a fire hydrant. But Mingi wasn’t better off as he bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes shyly as his cheeks turned the faint color of pink. Clearing my throat and accidentally choking as I hastily pulled my hand back, I averted my eyes and fought for my life to not choke. Thank God the orange juice was right there, I quickly took three large gulps.

“Th—thanks.” Mingi stuttered, staring at the table as he licked his lips, “Uh, it’s gotten long, my hair, I mean, I have to cut it when I get the time.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, grabbing my mug and chewing on my bottom lip in embarrassment—God, could the Earth swallow me up right now? Why the hell did I do that?! “Yeah.”

“Do you think I should change it up a little?” I paused as I had dipped my brush in red paint, and slowly looked up at Mingi, “Do something fun with it—like going blonde?”

“I hate blonde hair.” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Nice one, idiot. Yunho was blonde while we were together, and thus, yeah, I’ve hated blondes ever since. And to be fair—and this is not me shitting on my ex—but that hair color did not suit Yunho at all.

“Oh, noted.” Mingi whispered, pouting a little. I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, hating myself for the weird atmosphere I have created.

“Mingi, you can do whatever you want with your hair.” I spoke up, leaning down to try and look him in the eyes as he was busy staring at the table, “My opinion shouldn’t matter. It’s your hair. Go crazy with it, have fun, try out something new. Really.”

“But do you think it would suit me?” Mingi was still pouting as he finally looked up at me, looking quite crestfallen. My eyebrows furrowed and I tried to imagine him with blonde hair. He was quite blessed with his skin complex as most colors looked good on him, but perhaps I preferred Mingi with dark hair—black hair, more specifically. Like he had it right now. He looked—good. Handsome, even. Completely gorgeous. Fuck.

“I think it would suit you.” I settled on saying that. He didn’t have to know my train of thought, like at all. Mingi hummed in appreciation, and I watched as he reached inside his tote bag, pulling out a case that held his glasses. He took it out of the case and put it on, pushing it up on the bridge of his nose. He grinned when he looked at me and I chuckled, shaking my head as I looked down at my mug, finally starting to decorate it.

“There goes the cool, mysterious, hot celebrity act.” I teased under my breath, not expecting Mingi to hear me. But he did, and he started laughing, giving me a cheeky grin.

“Not quite a celebrity yet, but at least you admit I am hot.” Of course he was smirking as I gave him a deadpanned look, about to argue him on his statement, but he didn’t let me as he continued talking, “By the way, let’s exchange our cups when we are done. The mug will be mine and the cup will be yours.”

I tried to fight the smile off my lips, “So that you get the artwork of a talented artist for free to sell for an outrageous price later on when I’m famous?”

“I fear you have misjudged my character, doll.” Mingi’s eyes narrowed playfully, but there was truth to his words. I might just have misjudged his character.

“I still think you’re arrogant and selfish.”

“Of course you do, didn’t except anything less from you.” Mingi winked and then looked down, his cheesecake forgotten as he started decorating his cup, tongue just barely sticking out as he concentrated hard on whatever he had in mind to paint onto the cup. I chuckled and shook my head before focusing on my own mug, the silence that’s settle around us comfortable, as always.

Mingi and I were the quietest table in the café as we worked in silence diligently in, painting our own pottery. Mingi, at times, would hum along quietly to the songs that were played on the radio. Despite his cup being smaller and easier to paint, I finished painting mine before him, and so, I took the time to savor my cheesecake even if it had gotten warm and a little too soft. Mingi was hunched over in his seat, glasses low on the bridge of his long nose, with his full lips either pursed or with the bottom one bitten as his eyebrows would furrow every time he almost made a mistake. It was a funny sight, and I grabbed my phone without thinking much, and snapped a few pictures of him, leaning lower and even closer to his face to get the funny angles, all while Mingi remained oblivious to it. I chuckled as I looked at the pictures I had taken of him, looking at him when I felt eyes on me.

“What’s so funny?” He asked curiously, eyeing my phone for a second.

“You.” I chuckled and stuck my tongue out as Mingi rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he heaved a long sigh.

“I’m finally done.” He grinned and I looked down at his cup, taking in the yellow chicks he had painted quite—clumsily. Well, not all of us had the skills of a painter—not that it was an issue or anything—it’s just that it’s been long since I had seen someone have the skills of a—kindergartner, “It’s pretty sick, huh?”

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from giggling and nodded with my eyebrows furrowed, “I’d give it a seventy out of a hundred mark.”

“Hey! That’s too low!” Mingi said, looking offended. I chuckled before shrugging.

“You’ll have to work on your skills for a higher mark.”

“Fine, next time you come to the studio, I’ll make you sing.” Mingi raised his eyebrows, making me narrow my eyes at him playfully.

“Oh, I didn’t know we are in a competition.”

“We weren’t, until now.” He winked and then stood, grabbing my mug and his own cup carefully as he took it to the front desk for drying. I gathered the items we had used to paint the pottery with to place them back in the box, and couldn’t help it but sneak a glance at Mingi. He was leaned up against the front counter, grinning widely at the cashier as she spoke to him, using her hands for big gestures as she was probably explaining something. My eyes narrowed as Mingi leaned slightly closer to her, only to detach himself from the front desk and walk back towards our table. I looked away and busied myself with my glass of orange juice.

“So, we’ll get them delivered to our houses once they are dry and all.” He said with a smile, sitting down, “I hope you don’t mind I gave her your address too.”

“I don’t.” I muttered, chewing on the straw for a second, “I didn’t think you’d know my address.”

“Well,” Mingi flattened his hands on the surface of the table, “I’ve been to your house twice now. I think it’s only right I remember your address, doll.”

“Right,” I muttered, “you’ve been to my house.”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and I figured he didn’t like the tone of my voice. But before I could correct myself and explain that I had nothing against that, he spoke up, “Y/N, I—I didn’t mean to scare you or—I don’t know—make you think that I want anything from you. I mean—we are friends, and I respect you as a woman and as a friend, and I know we almost—kissed. But I—I don’t want you to think that I’m playing some sort of game with you to get—to get in your pants. I’m your friend. And even if I wasn’t, I still wouldn’t do that to you.”

Hearing him say all that felt wrong. I didn’t deserve any explanation from him. I was the one that’s overreacted that day, and Mingi was the one that deserved an explanation and apology from me for the way I have acted. I knew I couldn’t completely open up to him right now, that some parts of the truth had to be omitted today, but he also deserved to know why I had pulled back. And I wanted him to understand that it wasn’t his fault for the way I reacted to everything.

“Mingi,” I offered him a small smile and gripped my empty glass for some support, “If you think you are the reason why I ignored you, please, stop thinking that. It’s—we both leaned in, okay? We were both about to kiss each other, it’s not like you initiated it or forced me to do something I didn’t want to. And nothing even happened, for God’s sake. I reacted that way because I—”

When I paused, Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned over the table, gently poking my hand with his ring clad fore-finger, “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable sharing it, Y/N.”

“But I want you to know this, Mingi.” I averted my eyes and took a deep breath, embracing myself for what I was about to tell him, “I had a boyfriend back in high-school who completely broke my heart, shattered it into pieces. And I know that happened a long time ago, and yes, I am over him, but I—I am scared people will treat me like he had treated me. I’m scared that if I let you close, you’ll just—leave. Like he did. And I know ignoring you for days was very shitty of me and I shouldn’t have done that—because quite frankly, Mingi, you deserve better—I just didn’t know what to do. I needed a few days to myself, to figure things out. It’s a bad excuse, but it’s the truth, and I think you deserve to know it. Since we are friends.”

Mingi’s face conveyed no emotion for a few seconds and I gulped, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Did he figure it out now? That I was talking about Yunho? That maybe I have started feeling something for him too, for Mingi? Would he stand up and leave? But to my surprise, a wide smile stretched onto his lips and he hummed, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

“Thank you for trusting me, it means a lot that you told me all that.” I bit my bottom lip, looking down at the table abashedly, “And I was never mad at you for ignoring me. I completely understand you, Y/N, and for the record, I have zero intentions of leaving you. And your ex is a fucking asshole for breaking your heart like that, tell me who he is and I’ll beat him up when I cross paths with him.”

There was nothing funny about what Mingi had said, especially since he was talking about his best friend, but the comically tough look on his face made me snort loudly as I shielded my mouth with my hand, trying to stop myself from laughing too loudly. Mingi started grinning like an idiot, his giggles deep, and making something coil in my stomach. When has Song Mingi become adorable instead of annoying?

“I doubt you’d want to kick his ass once you find out who he is…” I grimaced once that was out of my mouth, regretting it instantly. What was it about today that I couldn’t keep my thoughts and mouth in check? It was turning really frustrating.

“So, you plan on telling me one day?” Mingi wriggled his eyebrows, making me snort, “Like real besties gossiping and shit.”

“You never fail to make me cringe when you call us besties, Mingi.” I shook my head, taking a glance at my wrist watch. Oh, the time had flown away, it was well past five now, and the sun was going down. I’d probably have to head home soon to have dinner with my mother. I was becoming hungry too.

“Well, that’s what we are so…” He cleared his throat before slowly standing up, making me look up at him, “Did you know today we’re celebrating the Festival of Light?”

“Nope, I had no idea.” I shook my head, standing up too as Mingi wore his coat, “I don’t follow the events our city organizes.”

“Pity, it’s really pretty.” Mingi pouted, waiting for me as I grabbed my tote bag and pocketed my phone, “Should we check it out?”

“I mean…maybe?” I shrugged and Mingi beckoned me over as he crossed his arm with mine, making me chuckle as I looked up at him. He wasn’t much taller than me, but his sneakers had a thick sole and they made him even taller, “Where is this festival held at?”

“Just down the street, at the Citadel.” Mingi smiled as he led the way out of the café, waving at the barista as she blushed again, making me chuckle as I subconsciously nuzzled up against Mingi’s side, the air chilly as the sun had set by now.

“That barista totally has a crush on you.” I found myself saying as we walked down the sidewalk, trying to avoid crashing into the people that came towards us. Yeah, there certainly was an event on-going in the city, otherwise you wouldn’t see so many people out and about around this time. Everyone preferred staying inside after the sun had set, not keen of the cold nights.

“You think so?” Mingi mused, bottom lip jutting out as he narrowly avoided a child that was running around, “I didn’t notice.”

“You must be really dense then.” I snorted, eyebrows furrowing as I looked up at him, “She was constantly blushing, and she was totally looking at you with hearts in her eyes.”

“How do you know when someone is looking at you with heart eyes?” Mingi’s question threw me off, and I detached myself from his side, clearing my throat as I looked ahead, pushing my hands in my pockets. He was warm, it made me realize as the cold bit at my skin now that I wasn’t nuzzled up by his side anymore.

“Well, they have this look in their eyes, you know? It’s warm, and soft, and it lasts.” I explained, feelings my cheeks heat up, “And their eyes always linger on you when you aren’t watching them. It’s like…puppy eyes, I suppose? I wouldn’t actually know, Mingi, nobody’s ever looked at me like that.”

When there was no response, I looked back to find Mingi looking at me intensely. My eyebrows furrowed as we have arrived to the Citadel, the gates open for the visitors of the festival. The place was packed, this wouldn’t be so fun anymore. I would’ve turned around and walked back home if I didn’t see how excited Mingi was when I agreed to come check it out.

“There’s lots of people here.” Mingi muttered, and then walked closer to me as I led the way inside, a little baffled by his reaction to my answer. I just merely gave an answer based on my beliefs. It was him that was acting weird now. But as I looked at him, I could see it in his eyes that he didn’t want to talk about this topic anymore, that he wanted us to drop the subject. His last comment was a way to veer the conversation in a different direction. What was it about us today making everything weird? I sighed and just walked further inside, trying to avoid the big crowd which seemed almost impossible as it stretched on and on. The Citadel, however, was beautiful as it was coated in darkness, only the little paper lamps and fairy lights illuminating the place. It had a certain aura to it, almost romantic, and I soon found myself smiling as we walked down the cobblestone path, still trying to avoid people and stick close to each other’s sides. The air was chilly but the walls of the Citadel did a great job at keeping the breeze out, and the crowd certainly kept the place warmer than it was outside the stone walls.

I found myself admiring the décor in wonder, my mouth hanging open as I took in all the little lamps placed down on the ground, following the cobblestone paths, illuminating our way. It was truly beautiful, it almost felt like the scene was taken out of a fairytale. I found myself filled with excitement and happiness as I turned to grin at Mingi.

“This is so beautiful!” I giggled, absentmindedly grabbing the sleeve of his coat and dragging him away from the path and into the dying grass as there was a panel covered with paper, and people were writing on it. Mingi remained silent, but as I searched around for a pen or pencil, I felt him watching me, “What, do you not want to write something?”

“If you manage to find a marker or pen, I will, sure.” He said with a shrug, adjusting the strap of his tote bag before he pushed his hands deep in his pockets. I chuckled and looked around for a marker, but it was hard to see it in the darkness whether they were laying around in the grass or not. To my surprise, a little girl standing next to me looked up at me with a small smile on her lips, and offered me her purple-coloured marker, saying she was done with her drawing. I thanked her with a chuckle and turned to face Mingi with a grin.

“I found one!” Mingi chuckled and took the marker from my hands, being able to reach high up where the paper was still empty, due to his height. The panel was illuminated from the inside so you could actually see what was written on the paper. I watched him as he wrote on the paper, hesitating for a second, before he stepped back and handed me the marker. I raised up on my tip toes curiously, and craned my neck to see what he’s written. ‘The moon is beautiful tonight.’

I felt a smile spread onto my lips as I looked back at Mingi, who’s expression was serious and almost sad-looking as he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his tall nose. I craned my neck back once more to gaze at the dark sky, at the moon, and indeed, there she was, beautiful and shining brightly. It was a new moon. Taking a swift glance at Mingi, I raised back on my tip toes and stood close to the panel, reaching up, just underneath Mingi’s writing. Thankfully, I could reach just bellow it, and I grinned as I quickly drew a new moon, adding a little shading to it and dents as well, creating the illusion of a real moon. Mingi remained silent as I took a step back, admiring our work. I handed the marker to another child as I fished my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture quickly of our artwork.

“The moon turned out beautifully.” Mingi commented once we had stepped away from the panel to let others draw too, headed back onto the cobblestone path.

“Still, it’s not as beautiful as the real one, but I tried my best.” I chuckled as I crossed my arms in front of my chest for a second, avoiding a man as he wasn’t looking in front of himself as he raced down the path. Mingi threw him a displeased look before looking down at me.

“Your drawings and paintings are always beautiful, Y/N.” Mingi said and I found myself blushing, thankful that it was so dark he wouldn’t be able to see it. I uncrossed my arms and turned my body a little to face him. There was music coming from one path, the one which led to the southern part of the Citadel.

“Are you nervous about Friday?” I found myself asking him as Mingi veered us towards where the music was coming from. He looked at me for a second, and then shook his head.

“I’m rarely nervous when we have to perform.” He said nonchalantly, the back of his hand brushing lightly against mine. My heart did a somersault against my ribcage, but I ignored it.

“Oh, you’re such a cool guy.” I teased him with narrowed eyes, making Mingi chuckle.

“I rarely get nervous, to be honest, even less when it comes to performing.” He hummed, looking up at the dark sky for a second, “I trust myself and my bandmates that everything will go well, so, there’s no actual reason to feel nervous.”

“But I’ll be there on Friday, that still doesn’t make you feel nervous?” My question was meant to be teasing, part of our playful banter, but the way Mingi gulped and quickly averted his eyes told me that perhaps I hit the nail spot-on. Well, now I have turned things awkward again. I sighed loudly, chewing on my bottom lip as Mingi remained silent, the two of us walking down the narrow path as the music became louder as we were nearing the stage. Jazz music was playing, the lady who was singing had a powerful and smooth voice that carried over the crowd neatly. There were a few people dancing in the crowd.

“Perhaps having you there will make me nervous.” Mingi’s voice was barely above a whisper and I tensed when I felt his pinkie brush against my own, making me clench my hand into a fist. But a very quiet voice inside my head demanded me to accept Mingi’s subtle request, and willing my heart to stop hammering so hard in my chest, I relaxed my hand and slowly slipped it into Mingi’s. If he stopped walking for a milli-second, I didn’t say anything about it, and he also ignored it. His grip turned firm as he intertwined our fingers together, gently pulling me closer into his side as he smiled at a mother who apologised for his son almost running into us.

I gulped and kept my eyes ahead of me, too nervous to look at Mingi. Holding his hand like this meant nothing in particular, but it was a nice feeling. It made my cheeks warms and heart race. And I didn’t have to look at Mingi to know he was smiling like crazy, his cheeks just as red as mine as we came to a stop behind the dancing people.

Have I started falling for Song Mingi?

『It's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

I'm just saying it's you, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

You, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

You're what I've been chasing

Show me where my days went』

❱❱ Next chapter

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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

so...the festival of light scene was totally inspired by me and my bestie attending it in our city lol; it was sooo beautiful and the pictures in the moodboard were actually taken by us; also, her and I kept laughing about the romantic vibes we were getting, all in all, we had a nice time...and OFC we make everything about Ateez so :))

I wrote that LOL I'm like Mingi, tall enough to reach the top where people haven't scribbled onto yet lol

also, this is what y/n's outfit looks like for anyone wondering, except for the colors as they are the way I have described them in the scene ^^

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delicatebarness · 1 day

Text

cry baby | chapter fifteen

Summary: Oh, hi!

Warning: No Bucky in this chapter.

Word Count: 833

Spotify Playlist

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: The gif may be Bucky, but, he isn't actually in this chapter. DON'T LOOK AT THE TAGS IF YOU DON'T WANT SPOILERS. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

You received a smile in return, and crinkles appeared at the corner of his eyes. “Hi,” he said softly. After another moment of silence, a brief calmness from the morning rush, it felt like time had slowed down. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah…” you trailed, a little breathless. “I’m just running late. I was supposed to meet, un, a friend for coffee.”

He looked at his watch and then back at you. “Well, I, un, I was on my way to get coffee too.” he reached a hand up, running it through his hair. “I was going to ask if you wanted to join me. Call it even for nearly knocking you over?”

You hesitated, taking a deep breath you thought it over quickly. “I guess that could work. I’m sure my friend will understand…” you trailed off, looking down at your phone, looking at the time.

He grinned, extending his hand to gesture to the way he was walking, “Sounds like a plan.”

He led the way to a nearby cafe, and as you settled into a cozy corner table, you found yourself thinking about the bar coffee. A smile spreads across your face as the memories of Mr Howlett making it exactly how you liked it.

“So, what do you do?” you asked as he sat in the chair opposite you, handing you your order.

“I’m a photographer,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he began to speak about his job. “I mostly do freelance work, but I’m currently helping out at the newspaper. What about you?”

You shared a bit about your job and your sketches. He listened intently, nodding and asking thoughtful questions that made you feel heard.

As the conversation flowed, you felt a connection with him. He was easy to talk to, for the first time in a fortnight, you felt at ease.

You sat alone at the table, waiting for him to return from the bathroom. You decided to take this moment to send a message to Natasha and Wanda. Bring up your group chat, you quickly drafted a message before hitting send.

“Do we know this person? Peter Parker? I met him a few hours ago and want to make sure he’s not another Walker.”

Before you could even set your phone down, it buzzed with a response from Natasha.

Nat: We haven’t heard of him before, do you want us to ask the guys?

Quickly, you replied: NO.

A sense of urgency rushed through you as Peter returned to the table. You quickly pocketed your phone, wanting to get back to the pleasant conversation. Just as you engaged back in the small talk, your phone buzzed again.

You tried to remain composer as you discreetly retrieved your phone, glancing at the screen. Another message from the group chat, this time it was from Wanda.

Wanda: Find out more about him, and we’ll help you figure it out.

You smiled at your phone, a rush of gratitude for their support, as Peter continued to chat animatedly about his photography. Pocketing your phone again, you found yourself drawn into his passion and enthusiasm. Lost in the moment, you couldn’t help but smile. You realized how effortlessly the conversation flowed.

As the hours passed and the cafe began to empty, you wished that time would stop.

At some point, you managed to reply to Natasha and Wanda but hadn’t thought about your phone since then. The reality of the outside began to creep back, and you reluctantly realized it was time to part ways.

Bidding farewell to Peter, you exchanged numbers and promised to meet again soon. You walked away from the cafe with a sense of hope.

As you settled into the comfort of your living room, you found yourself unable to contain the giddy excitement. Alpine jumped up and snuggled into your lap as you reached for your phone. With Peter’s number saved, you couldn’t resist the urge to text him.

Fingers danced across the screen, typing out your message to him. “Hey, Peter! 😊I just wanted to say that I had a lovely time today. Can’t wait to do it again!”

You held your breath as you pressed send. The minutes ticked as you waited anxiously for his response. Just as you were about to give up hope, a notification lit up your screen. “Hey! 😄 I had an amazing time! Let’s definitely meet up again soon!”

A grin spread across your face, a rush of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Unable to contain your excitement, you clutched your phone to your chest, giggling like a teenager.

Alpine’s warm presence added to the cozy atmosphere which amplified your sense of contentment. With the new energy coursing through you, you quickly typed another message. Your finger practically flying across the screen.

Lost in a flurry of texts, you hardly noticed the time. And, before you knew it, the night had slipped away. The soft light of the morning sun peeked through the curtains.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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taizi · 2 days

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too well tangled

rise of the tmnt post-movie / canon divergent word count: 1k characters: disaster twins

this was my bonus piece for the digital @turtlestogetherzine !

title borrowed from atticus—“you will never be unloved by me / you are too well tangled in my soul”

read on ao3

So it turns out that sixteen minutes in the prison dimension is about six months outside it. Give or take.

Donnie calls it a temporal differential. Leo’s third day back was spent being gently interrogated within an inch of his life. For every answer he gave, Donnie’s face got a little darker.

He seems a lot older than the last time Leo saw him. Everyone does. They all look at Leo like he’ll disappear into thin air if they blink too many times.

He expects it to wear off eventually. He’s only confined to the infirmary for a week and a half, and on bedrest for a week after that, but even a month later Raph and Mikey continue to stick to him like glue.

“I’m okay,” Leo tells them, when his bad leg seizes up and he staggers on his way to the breakfast table and Mikey’s face crumples horribly. Raph just huffs and lifts Leo clean off his feet to carry him the rest of the way. Swallowing past the uncertain lump in his throat, Leo adds playfully, “I mean, I’m not one to complain about the all-star treatment, but—”

“Good,” Raph rumbles, “then don’t.”

“Sorry if we’re being annoying,” Mikey says with a brightness in his tone that doesn’t sit quite right. He’s said that like fifty times since Leo came back. “We just—we missed you, Lee.”

And what is Leo supposed to say to that?

“Annoying? Please,” he scoffs. “I’m the king of everything obnoxious. You couldn’t annoy me if you tried.”

When Raph lowers him into a seat, Leo lifts his arm in invitation for Mikey to scoot his chair up right next to his, and then wraps him up in a tight hug. Mikey slots into his side like he belongs there, and he does, he always will, but it’s just a bit different than Leo remembers.

Mikey is still his little brother. But only by a few months now. Leo’s seventeenth birthday came and went without him.

And a part of him—this nameless little part that lives in the back of his mind, that’s lived there ever since dad made him team leader and ripped the rug out from under his feet—thinks that’s why Donnie doesn’t know how to be around him anymore.

He’s a constant presence. He’s a solid pillar for Leo to lean against when his legs don’t want to hold him up. But they don’t know what to say to each other. That unspoken understanding, that twin thing—it’s gone.

Or so Leo thinks.

Big Mama is more of a weird estranged relative than a mortal enemy these days, but she’s an entrepreneur first, eccentric wine aunt second. When she gets a big business idea, all bets are off. Leo can kind of respect that. It’s really thrilling and a little fun trying to match wits with a criminal mastermind, like high-stakes 5D chess.

But her invitations could use some work. Sending a bunch of burly yokai in Grand Nexus uniforms to intercept the turtles on their way to Run of the Mill for dinner is a scheme that could have used a bit more time on the workshop table.

Immediately Leo’s brothers close ranks around him. He’s allowed to run around in his leg brace at this point, but he has, in no uncertain terms, NOT been cleared to fight. He can tell from the set of Raph and Mikey’s shoulders that they’re beyond ticked off, but he can’t read Donnie’s posture at all.

It’s bad timing, but suddenly Leo is preoccupied with those dark little thoughts he’s been having recently. Maybe Donnie isn’t happy to have him around. It’s been a lot of extra work, right? Dealing with the prodigal brother’s physical therapy and night terrors aside, now Donnie can’t even pick up some pizza without having to play bodyguard.

So Leo is distracted—sue him. He’s got a lot going on. When an owl guard grabs him by the arm, he’s not ready for it. The yank backwards causes him to stumble, bad knee bending underneath him.

The guard seems to loom over him for a moment. The evening gloom of the alleyway and the lurid glow of a nearby neon sign makes Leo’s brain sprint right back to the prison dimension. A distressed chirp works its way out of him before he can fully reorient himself. Add that to his ever-growing list of Good Reasons To Fake His Own Death.

Big Mama’s goon looks surprised by the sound, grip relenting on Leo’s arm immediately. He wouldn’t do that if he were here for villainous reasons. So Big Mama probably actually considers kidnapping via sudden ambush to be a halfway decent method of picking her nemeses-slash-nephews up for an evening visit.

Leo only has a second to think, Okay, I can work with this, turning up the charm and pretending like he can’t still feel the aftershocks of panic, before he’s being yanked again.

This time he’s pulled right in against Donnie’s side, a strong arm around his carapace. There’s a burst of light and warmth—bright purple and overheated electronics, he’d know his brother’s ninpo anywhere—and they’re surrounded by a gleaming, glowing arsenal.

The owl guard didn’t have a chance in hell. Donnie still doesn’t really look at Leo, not once as Mikey and Raph rush over, not even on the empty-handed trek back home.

But he sits next to Leo on the couch while Mikey enlists Raph and papa’s help with dinner since their pizza run failed. The bickering and Mikey’s cooking playlist create a familiar, comfortable backdrop where it swells out of the kitchen. Donnie’s shoulder knocks against Leo’s. It feels like how it used to.

Before he can lose courage, Leo blurts, “The thing I miss most from before is being twins with you.”

As soon as he says it, he wants to take it back. This is more mortifying than all of those initial grueling physical therapy sessions combined.

He’s scrambling for an escape route that isn’t just hobbling away as fast as he can, or portaling to the bottom of the ocean, when Donnie suddenly says, “Draxum said we hatched together. We’ve been together all our lives. You’re pulling our twin card just because I'm finally taller than you?”

Leo sputters. “By an inch!”

Donnie raises an eyebrow at him, waiting with uncharacteristic patience for Leo to catch up. Maybe that’s what he’s been doing this whole time.

Eyes stinging, Leo slouches into Donnie’s side. The softshell matches him, his cheek coming to rest on the top of Leo’s head. It reminds Leo of hugging Mikey earlier that morning at the breakfast table.

Leo still fits here. There’s a good chance he always will.

“Guess this finally makes me the older twin, huh, Nardo?”

It surprises Leo into laughter, maybe the first big loud laugh to come tripping out of him since well before the invasion. Conversation in the kitchen grinds to a halt and Mikey and Raph come barreling out a second later all covered in flour, eager to catch him in the act, to get in on it.

“Sorry, Tello,” Leo says, grinning, not very sorry at all. “Not in this lifetime.”

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #hamato leonardo #hamato donatello #disaster twins #my writing #tmnt fic #turtlestogetherzine #the only older twin leo fic i will ever write

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marigold-hills · 3 days

Text

june 4: wildfire | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 626

PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART • FIRST PART

Remus says: “take me to bed.”

Remus say take me to bed and Sirius remembers a trip to France when he was a child, the summer air during a drought, sharp and heavy and dense enough to blanket him, and then, a week later, watching a wildfire ravage through the forest. This is the spark, Sirius thinks.

He was safe within the Manor’s wards, but the fire was a savage, hungry thing and it ate the horizon. Sirius was a wild child then, and he is wild still, and the desire to go outside and feel the burn on his skin hasn’t changed.

“I’ve finished my dissertation,” he admits, not ready for this golden moment between them to end and coming clean about the little omission is easier than facing new thoughts.

(Remus says that’s amazing, Sirius. He says good job, congratulations.)

“And I… um… tattoo.”

“You got a tattoo?” Remus reads into the jumbled words, frowns, “why didn’t you say? You’ve been going on about it all year.”

Sirius is wearing an oversized Queen T-shirt he likes to sleep in. The hem is loose. Makes it easy to lift up above his torso. Down the middle of his breastbone, exposing more than skin: the sign of the alchemical Great Wolf and below it seven intricate moons, waxing and waning.

“You… you didn’t say that’s what you were getting.”

Remus doesn’t blink, not once. Takes in the ink like reading a book – top to bottom, careful eyes. Reaches out to touch each symbol in turn, one by one, his fingers holding the same reverence Sirius has seen in him when handling ancient texts. They’re keeping his place, marking where he is on the page. For one mad moment Sirius wants the mark to be permanent.

“Why, Sirius?” Remus asks as if Sirius knew the answer. He doesn’t say Pads or Padfoot or “you great big mangy dog” as he does usually, he says Sirius and that’s how they both know it’s important.

And Sirius wants to answer – wants to give the right answer - but he can’t because he doesn’t know. Only knows this: he was there, with the money ready, and the man with the tattoo gun asked what will it be? and out of the window, out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw the moon and said: this. This is what I want to touch me for the rest of my life, this is what I want to carve into my skin.

And while the ink was being needled into him, it quietened the need he has to bite and keep, to hurt.

And now, Remus’ careful fingers meld it together and satisfy the part of him which wants to be soft and gentle, sweet.

“Sirius?” Remus prods when he doesn’t answer. Splays his hand so that it lays flat across the tattoo, and has Moony always had hands this large? Has the rough edge of his fingers, from years of using a quill, always felt like that?

It must have because this is Moony – their Moony, his Moony - but it couldn’t because Sirius never once has been rendered quiet by a simple touch before. There have been so many over the years, in the Shack, after Quidditch, in the Lake, at nights filled with nightmares. Always the same hands, and yet.

Sirius let’s go of the hem of his shirt and grabs onto the hand on his chest, presses it closer into his skin like he could push it through to touch his heart (it’s beating now, so fast, so, so hard). He wants more and he wants to understand, and he’ll give into both the urges. For as long as Remus will let him.

Remus, eyes wide, lets him.

NOTES:

This is part 4! There will be 30. I suggest reading in order for the full experience but they also should work as standalone.

Don’t do this in the library. If you must, I suppose 2am is a good time.

I’ve changed Sirius’ tattoo from how it was in the movies. Originally the symbol he has on the very top is for amalgamation and here I went with antimony because it signifies the great wolf and I like the idea of that. The symbols are actually very similar looking. If you remember part one, this one goes back to the dissertation he’s writing.

not sure if I should add smut to this. Thoughts?

@moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash @sweetstarryskies

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)

#remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #marauders #dead gay wizards #fanfic #microfiction #remus x sirius #marauders era

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canonizzyhours · 2 days

Note

I'm a professional screenwriter. I know nobody reading this has any reason to believe that, and I work pretty hard to keep my fandom activity separate from my professional identity, so I'm not going to offer any proof that would doxx me here, believe me or don't. But it's true and I don't just mean I'm trying to get hired as a screenwriter, I mean I am pretty well established in the industry and I've worked on some stuff big enough you've probably heard of it. I've also been active in OFMD fandom for about two years now, since nearly the beginning.

The canyon really freaks me out because seeing it up close makes me worried I've drastically underestimated audiences' empathy gap around characters of color and tendency to sympathize with and excuse the actions of white characters. I've always tried to be conscious about that sort of thing in my work but now that I'm seeing the whole process up close it's so much worse than I always thought.

I think a lot about what I would have done during season 1 of OFMD, if I were in the writers' room and I'd wanted to make sure it would be clear to the audience that Izzy was Ed's abuser and wasn't acting out of secretly sympathetic motives and we're supposed to be genuinely horrified by his actions. I'm in writers' rooms workshopping issues like this all the time. I know the kinds of suggestions I'd make.

Like, if we were worried that the audience would think Izzy's hostility toward Stede was about class instead of homophobia, I might have suggested we make sure Izzy's dialogue never has any reference to Stede's class at all, and that we might do a subplot in one episode where Izzy is equally hostile toward Lucius, since Lucius clearly isn't rich but is extremely gay. But that already happened, and it didn't help.

If I wanted to make sure the audience understood that Izzy is bossing the crew around and screaming at everyone to work harder because he's a petty little bully on a power trip and not because the work actually needs to get done, I might have suggested a scene where Izzy deliberately makes a mess on purpose just so he can order the crew to clean it up. But that already happened, and it didn't help.

If I wanted to make it clear that Izzy has always been awful toward everyone around him -- especially his colleagues of color -- since long before the show started, I might have suggested we repeatedly emphasize throughout the season that while Fang is willing to work with him, he doesn't like or respect Izzy and this is because Izzy has always treated Fang very badly. Have him pull on Fang's beard for no reason and have Fang explicitly say he hates that but knows it wouldn't help to complain. Have Fang tell strangers jokes about times Izzy humiliated himself in public. Have a scene where everybody unanimously VOTES TO MURDER IZZY and someone explicitly stops to ask Fang if he's cool with this and Fang explicitly says yes this is absolutely fine with me and then he actively participates in the murder plan while smiling. But all of that happened and I still see the canyon insisting that Izzy was a much nicer person before the events of s2 when he wasn't under so much stress and has always been liked and respected by the PoC around him, including specifically Fang!

If I were worried that the audience might take seriously the idea that Izzy is motivated by "loyalty to your captain" -- well, honestly I don't think it ever would have occurred to me to worry about that, since he says that in a scene where he's in the middle betraying his captain and I'd probably assume people are capable of picking that up and understanding that when someone says they're abusing you for your own good you should not believe them. But if someone else insisted we address the concern, suggestions I'd make would include: make sure some of the first interactions we see between Ed and Izzy involve Izzy complaining about how he doesn't want to do the job Ed just gave him, then half-assing the mission and lying to Ed's face about it. Show Izzy deliberately undermining Ed to the crew by telling them he's half-insane, then insist to Ed that he's the only one keeping the crew loyal when they're worried about his judgment. But they did that stuff and we still have people thinking Izzy's central motivation throughout season 1 is selfless devotion to Ed.

The show did every single thing I would have suggested, and none of it worked. So what does it say about all the stuff I've already worked on, whenever I've written a scene where a white guy was being a dick to characters of color? Have I just been embarrassingly naive this whole time? Have I undermined my own work by not getting this?

You can't control audience reactions, I know that, that's part of what's great about art, you have to let go and accept that people will interpret things in ways you never intended, I get it. But if it's THIS impossible to choose words that will create the kind of feelings you meant to, what's the point? Is it even possible to write about the kind of abusive relationship Ed and Izzy have, where the white guy thinks he's entitled to control a brown man's life "for his own good" and that the brown guy is obligated to be grateful and reciprocate his "love" and not have a huge group of people creating elaborate justifications for the white guy? What else could they have done? What else can I do, when I'm writing about characters of color? I'm seriously asking. If anybody reading this has advice I want to hear it. What could I do?

#408.

#ofmd #izzy hands #edward teach #fang #lucius spriggs #fandom critical #canonizzyhours

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kentocalls · 1 day

Text

gojo satoru | supernatural sfw. alien!satoru fluff anyone?

alien!satoru who steps out of a beam of light and the first sight he’s ever seen on this planet is you. you and a companion, he thinks, are frozen solid. you’ve bend the companions wrist in an odd manner and it seems funny for a greeting — but satoru is here it learn. so he walks over, places a hand on your shoulder and mimics the look on your face, opens his mouth to introduce himself. (you’re scared, frozen. the asshole has been following you since you left the bagel shop, got loud and handsy. you’re proud of yourself for not freezing up and removing his hand from your body with force but then a fucking beam of light appeared and now a gorgeous blue eyed man is looking at you with a crazed face. and speaks gibberish)

alien!satoru who quickly absorbs all your memories, lessons, education, senses, perceptions all of it the second his hand lands on your shoulder. he realizes he was speaking his home language and you —humans, here speak words differently. but before he can correct himself, he realizes the person with you is not your companion and has been a bother to you all morning. he turns his eyes to the asshole and places a heavy hand on his shoulder, “never, ever bother my friend again.” the asshole runs off, satoru shudders at all the memories he’s indirectly inherited. are human beings so weak they don’t protect their minds? he turns to you again, “hello, my name is satoru.” (you blink at satoru, not sure if you’re hallucinating him or not.)

alien!satoru who quickly explains his mission, he’s here to learn everything about your planet, calls it something in gibberish and the smile you give him is polite. its the one you give to solicitors and he frowns. he’s not a solicitor, he’s basically a consultant! he’s here to understand what your species is doing on this side of the galaxy. satoru is committed to collecting all the information possible. (“thank you, satoru. i need to go to work now. umm, take care?” satoru nods, pauses, looks around himself and at the empty crosswalk, “what am I supposed to take care of?”)

alien!satoru who sits on a bench and watches humans walk to and fro. some walk quickly and hurriedly, and some walk slowly. they all come in various shapes and sizes, speak in different ways and he wants to absorb all their memories and information. how are there so many humans? what makes them so different? he ends up walking around and introduces himself to many people. some don’t want to shake his hand, some don’t want to let go of his hand. all of them have a unique story that floods his brain as soon as his skin makes contact. but satoru finds himself looking for you in their memories

alien!satoru who is so …famished? he doesn’t need to eat for years on his home planet, had enough snacks on his ship but right now is oh so on his very last energy stores. he’s hunched over and walking, legs moving to the path you usually take to work and he hopes and prays to find you again. you told him to ‘take care’ and it meant to ‘take care of himself’ and he has found he does not know how to do that here. you are probably a ‘take care’ expert.

alien!satoru who stands out wherever he walks with his long frame and pristine white hair, other worldly blue eyes. he sits near a kofee? cart and sighs. his body is leaking something strange and it makes no sense. he has not done anything strenuous, he can feel his heart beating in his ear and this is no good. the planet felt cooler in the day and no amount of adjusting his breathing is regulating the heat he feels from the dang sun. he rubs at his eyes and no amount of scratching is getting them to dim and shift. he can’t modify himself here? (you spot a very unforgettable mop of hair outside your office window. he’s dressed in a full black outfit and you note how hot it is outside and the guy hasn’t moved into the share. sighing, and praying that you’re not losing your mind, you head out.)

alien!satoru who feels something cool touch his cheek, turns into the sweet relief from the heat, barely opens his eyes and its you! its you! he sits up instantly, wants to do what other humans do to greet each other - pull you into a hug! but he realizes unwanted physical affection is not welcome. he does not want to make you uncomfortable. you open a plastic tube with clear liquid. “you seem to be breathing okay here so this shouldn’t be poisonous.” he scoffs, “i’m the strongest in my cadet class, i can handle any liquid.” but when it cool fluid cascades down his throat he’d happily let himself drown in it. he finishes the entire thing in go. the relief is appreciated even though its fleeting. (you hand him a bunch of napkins and when he looks confused you dab at his forehead and space. he probably should get some electrolytes into his system, before you can finish the thought, you hear his stomach grumble too.)

alien!satoru who follows your orders and stays super, duper close to you when entering your work cafeteria. he’s both amazed and unimpressed with the food selections and payment process. he asks why you sit in the chair and not on the table, the chair is uncomfortable and the table is wider and cooler. he easily accepts ‘social conditioning’ as a response and pokes at the arrangement of items on his plate. he’s selected mostly fruits, the bright colors compelling him, but you know that’s not filling and leave to secure more carbs, protein and fats. (you watch his curiosity with a smile on your face. if he is an alien, he seems to be nice and harmless.)

alien!satoru who states he will sit outside now that he’s regenerated energy and you watch him walk out into the roaring sun and immediately squirm and close his eyes. you’re pulling sunglasses form your pocket and asking satoru to bend down towards you so you can place the contraption on his face. he grins wide and proclaims you the bestest of his human friends. he begins to tell you about his adventures of walking around the city and touching (shaking hands he clarified) everyone who would listen to him. he has zero sense of self preservation you realize. you make him go into the mens bathroom and wash his hands with soap twice and dry them. he spends twenty minutes confused by all the contraptions in the bathroom.)

alien!satoru who access your memories to find your office and gets very friendly coworkers of yours to badge him to your floor. youre talking to a black rectangle when he waves and sits down across from you. he knows you’re on a communicator device and sits patiently, eyes roaming your office. (he tries to sit patiently but gets bored. walks around to where you have binders and binders all related to insurance policies, insurance billing codes and the wonderful exclusions binders. he seems to be glancing over everything quickly.)

alien!satoru who is so very, deeply concerned at how breakable you are. “you can fracture a foot in multiple places? you should never walk. i will bring my warping tool!” but you only hold a finger to your lips and shush him. the rectangle is still speaking to you and satoru inhales all of the information in binders. he has to commit everything to memory, this planet is so very weak! the humans are too brittle. even a sneeze can cause a back to spasm and over stretch. what the hell is a sneeze? satoru searches your memories and realizes that sneezes are unstoppable, once your brain registers the need to it must happen. how is satoru going to protect you from that? (the alien has gone from boredom to intense concern and sadness. you want to talk to him but you’re in the middle of a workers compensation claims trail and the damn lawyer is messing up the approved claim body parts. you are not paying for someone’s knee injury from highschool volleyball, you will pay for the injury to their hand because of a shitty manager and printer.)

alien!satoru who finds the lights still too bright, is relieved when you’re done speaking to the rectangle and turn the lights off. “you could be hurt from so many things, things you can’t even see! you could die!” (well that…that is a very strange concern the alien has.) “…toru that’s…that’s the risk of living here as a human.” he frowns, “my name is satoru, sa-to-ru. toru is currently investigating neptune.” he doubly frowns as he recalls neptune being your favorite planet when you were shorter. “are you… you really came from out there?” your hand is waving at the ceiling and satoru knows you have better eyesight than that. “i came from…” more gibberish. (you figure that’s his original alien language and well, grat, if you’re not losing your mind you’ve somehow befriended? an alien?)

alien!satoru who doesn’t like the fact he can’t regulate or modify his body freely. he’s constrained by elements and wants to study them. when he asks you about this you bring up a topic called chemistry and physics and he needs to meet with professors who teach this now. but he stands too quickly, feels himself dizzy, his eyesight getting fuzzy and your cool hands are there, steadying him. your voice is a whisper, asking him to ‘take it easy’ but satoru hasn’t taken anything yet. why can’t you speak more clearly? and why are you leaving him again? he isn’t done talking. (you tell him you’ll bring him more water and something to change into. your company has some tshirts as swag that satoru should most definitely change into.)

alien!satoru who looks very young and old all at the same time. he has never felt the need for social contact but not being around you is stifling. it hurts in part of his chest and general well being. he doesn’t feel good. maybe the clear fluid was poisonous. “satoru?” you’re back, you’re back! he makes to stand and somehow you move quicker than him, he feels his legs getting heavy. “change into these, i brought more snacks and water. you’re probably overheated. it’s summer right now, the sun is dangerous.” oh, it makes perfect sense. he starts to undress when you quickly gasp and shuffle to turn around. close the blinds in your office so others can’t see and what’s the need for privacy? everyone looks the same under their garments afterall. (oh my god. he is either a really good actor or an actual alien. what are you going to do? is homeland security going to come after you for harboring an extraterrestrial being? even if they’re nice and handsome and simply want to learn about earth?)

alien!satoru who feels so much better in a tshirt and oversized shorts. the colors are not pleasing but he can feel his lungs breathe freely. you mentioning needing to do more work and prepare for a meeting and satoru promises to behave and only ask questions if they are of dire importance. (he doesn’t like your cellphone, says it’s radiating bad waves. he is really curious about the binders and book, why isn’t data downloaded into your brain directly? he asks very politely and you don’t have the heart to tell him to stop, something about his eyes they’re earnest and pretty.)

alien!satoru who promise to guard your office but when he see’s someone from your memories, debra? stalk into the break room he knows he must defend your lunch tiffin. it’s debra who keeps stealing them afterall. he catches her in the act and she shuffles away with just a glare. satoru feels proud, feels useful. he also spots your main nemesis, the printer! gives it a very fine talking to and it beeps in submission.

when he returns to your office he realizes he didn’t knock and that’s part of proper socialization. you knock before entering anyone’s office, so he turns around but is greeted with a …coworker. he searches your memories and this guy is? adam? “who are you?” satoru hates his voice, won’t shake his hand ever. doesn’t want this man’s memories or stories at all. “who are you?” satoru replies. the man ignores his question, nods at your desk and says your name in such a ugly way. satoru should defend your honor here too. he could break adams foot in many places.

alien!satoru who frowns greatly at your “this is satoru! the overseas consultant!” you’re rushing to get between adam and satoru but satoru does not need defending, heck satoru is ready to be on the offense. adam entered your office, without knocking! but the man now smiles but it’s not kind, “oh, satoru welcome! we hope you enjoy your stay here” lies lies lies, adam is not pleased to receive satoru. adam extends his hand and well, satoru could break that in multiple places. you laugh, a fake laugh and now satoru is frowning at you, “he doesn’t shake hands adam, did you need something?” and satoru zones out the rest of the conversation. its clear you don’t like adam but you’re being ‘nice’ to him. it feels off. satoru closes his eyes and reviews your memories of adam and it’s super duper obvious that adam deserves the most terrible sneeze that results in never ending back pain!

alien!satoru who is all but growling by the time adam leaves and you have to physically stop him from following adam out. when he starts yelling about last years holiday part and adam’s unprofessional conduct you slap a hand over his mouth and mush him into the wall. (it’s a very kabe-don! moment you realize but satoru is not calming down.) satoru does his best to breathe, there’s a uniqueness to how your hand smells and it still feels soft on his face. this close satoru is aware of your touch, your body pressed close to him and oh—maybe humans are different underneath the garments. his hands twitch, he wants to pull you closer? the little pressure he has of your body against him feels nice. anchoring. what if he were to feel the full weight of your body on his? he’s made awfully aware of the fact your lips are a different shade than the rest of your face and what would the sensation of feeling those be like? “ahem—“ fucking debra. you pull away from him quickly and move faster than a gazelle. (satoru has never seen one, nor have you but he assumes the expression is correct.) you slam the door in debras face.

alien!satoru who is satiated with his own communication device once you connect it to wifi. he hears you sigh and knows that is mostly not a good thing. “adam will not fire you, you have 359 open cases and 120 maintenance cases. plus you’re the only one who shiu and toji work with.” (why does he know that? you locked your computer before you left the office but even then he shouldn’t know who shiu is. your conference call was with toji today. “you can read my mind?” satoru scoffs, “download. your mind wasn’t guarded. and neither is this website!” wait—what? “satoru that’s not, you cannot download a website from an ipad into your brain.” )

alien!satoru who diligently follows you out of the office, sticks close to you as he crosses the street, he tries to introduce himself to people, especially the ones that come up to him first but you’re quick to warn them off and shoo them free. this beautiful alien knows everything that you’ve ever experienced, learned or thought. “this is definitely turning into a cinnamon bun kind of day.” before satoru can question you on how you can manipulate material he smells the most divine smell of a bakery. “hot kento lives here!” satoru gasps and you’re immediately in his space again, pulling him close and shushing him. he likes it. you being close, not you shushing him. “we’re going to keep that a secret, yes?” satoru loves secrets! no one makes those with him back home. he nods eagerly and sees hot kento for himself. the glorious bakery man of your literal dreams. but satoru is confused, what is hot about him?

alien!satoru who is very pleased to shake hot kento’s hand and learn exactly what an outstanding citizen he is. it’s not like the hands he’s shaken today, the way those minds describe you is awful. the way kento perceives you is respectful, calls you earnest exhausted cinnamon bun and vanilla oatmilk latte. satoru thinks these words are wonderful and after having tested them the most delicious compliments! he whispers really close to your ear as you head out of the bakery, “i understand why hot kento is hot.”

alien!satoru who has experienced your living spaces multiple times in his mind but nothing prepares him for the sensory overload. the physicality of being in a space that smells like you, is filled with trinkets you adore and foods you love and soft things is a lot. too much. he sits down from standing. “satoru?” his name on your lips secures his breathing, “you doing okay?” he nods. “of course.” you disappear further away from him, he doesn’t like it, wants to reach out but its all too much. the lights get turned off and you’re coming back, a different outfit and more clothing, “these will fit, they are a softer material. let me show you the layout.” there is no need. satoru knows the exact layout, the exact rules you have for yourself. he will abide by them. is diligent in wiping and picking up after himself. deposits his used garments in the laundry basket and sits on your sofa.

“where are you going to sleep satoru? do you have a ship?”

“i don’t need to sleep not for another year.” he yawns and sinks himself deeper into your couch. glasses removed reveal all the fatigue in his eyes.

“well, on earth, when the sun goes down and the moon comes up, sleep happens. your body is adjusting to this rhythm, so you will need sleep.”

sleep is restorative and would make satoru extremely vulnerable. his ship isn’t going to be back until next year, where is he supposed to rest? “can i stay here?”

alien!satoru who refuses to sleep on the sofa, you find him under your dinning room table, lying on the very hard floor. claims its the hard surface is good for human backs and you have to coach him away from the dust. you promise he can sleep there after you map and clean but satoru reminds you, he’s the strongest. dust cannot defeat him. (and how you bite your tongue because he’s not strong here, not on earth. he doesn’t even realize whatever magical powers he had at home are gone. and oh my god, you’re really going to help him, aren’t you?)

alien!satoru who sleeps for five hours, brain processing all the new memories and experiences and information but keeps looping the moment you were close to him. your eyes are expressive, it’s novel. back home the cadets are trained from a young age to be neutral but curious. a friendly poker face to bid good will but never ever a mirror or the truth. this is satoru’s last chance to promote into a true cataloger, he wants to explore as many planet as possible and meet as many species. earth feels kind, inviting. you are kind and inviting. soft and lovely.

alien!satoru who wakes you up at 6am on the dot, a box of cinnamon buns shoved into your face, “hot kento said yes! i have a job! i can shake peoples hand easily now! i can pay you rent too, but at the end of the month.” satoru will not abandon his mission due to lack of resources, the technology he brought with him doesn’t work, not all his manipulations materialize on earth nor do his requests for assistance work but he can. as much as he’d like to stick next to you he realizes, eventually, he will hurt debra or adam when they make you upset near him. he won’t let you get fired. so he can keep busy in a safe and positive environment, around food so he will be well fed and where the sun cannot harm him. “why is your hair out of place?”

alien!satoru who learns that you do not wake up at 6am on a weekend. he remembers the rules, you like to warm up to the morning, allow yourself thoughtless time of sitting in bed before energizing for the day. it’s not fun to have you at an arms length and not engage. he is patient though, and it’s absolutely worth it when you greet him with a “good morning!” and he is listing your smile as the #1 best thing about earth.

#gojo satoru fic #satoru fluff #jjk x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #sfw #this wrote itself #april writes

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izelascendant · 3 days

Text

Sportsmanlike

Chapter 4 - Stanford

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Rating | Mature Summary | Art attends the event with his plus one. Pairing | f!Original Character x Art Donaldson x Tashi Duncan x Patrick Zweig Tags | Tennis, Competition, Love Triangles (Squares?), Jealousy, Plot, Emotional Infidelity, Eventual smut, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationships Word Count | 2.2K Author's note | I'm gonna be honest this is pretty much just a smut chapter. SMUT warning.

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Sportsmanlike on AO3 | Chapter 1 - US Open 2006, Chapter 2 - Finalist Fusion, Chapter 3 - Aftermath and Accolades, Chapter 4 - Stanford, Chapter 5 - Stanford, Part 2 | Sportsmanlike PART 2 - soon

Art

As Art digs through his closet, scanning his limited options, he holds a tie up to his neck, looking at his reflection in the mirror. The sudden sound of his door opening startles him, and he turns to find Patrick casually inviting himself into the room.

With a mix of frustration and amusement, Art turns to face Patrick. "You do know you can knock before coming in, right?"

“When have I ever?” Patrick breezes into the room, his hands casually placed on his hips. He arches an eyebrow and pauses, taking a good look at Art before letting out a small whistle. "Hot date tonight?” he teases with a sly smirk on his face.

Art lets out a snicker, amused by the situation. "Nah, it's just this fancy event I gotta attend," he explains. "You know my dad's friend, the tall academic guy? He's hosting it, so I can't really skip it."

Patrick moves about Art's cramped dorm room, his movements aimless as he pretends to survey his surroundings. "Not bringing me as your plus one?"

A momentary silence hangs between them, Patrick’s words seemingly hanging in the air. Art turns to face him, tossing the tie onto his desk. "Well, you're leaving," Art simply states.

"That I am," Patrick replies with a sigh as he gazes at his friend, a tender smile gracing his lips.

The moment between them stretches, filled with a silent understanding. Then, Patrick steps towards Art's closet, breaking the silence. "Alright," he says, a sense of determination in his tone as he begins to rummage through Art's clothes. "Let's see what we're working with."

Art's chuckle fills the air as he playfully questions Patrick's determination. "Since when have you become the fashion expert?" he asks as he peels off his t-shirt, tossing it aside to try on one of his shirts.

Instead of a verbal response, Art hears Patrick murmur from behind the closet door. "You sneaky little fuck."

"What?" Art’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as he turns to face him, genuinely puzzled by Patrick's sudden comment.

Art's heart skips a beat as he spots the lace panties clutched in Patrick's hand—the same ones she had forgotten on the hotel floor the night she left with Tashi in a rush after their encounter —Patrick had discovered a secret Art didn’t even think to mention to him.

Patrick breaks into a hearty laugh, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You son of a bitch, I can’t believe you," he exclaims, a sense of teasing in his voice. "Just how long have you had these?"

"It's not like that—" Art quickly defends himself, trying to maintain his composure. "What was I supposed to do, give them back? That would've made me seem creepy." He takes a deep breath, his flustered tone betraying his attempt to rationalize his actions.

"And keeping them in your sock drawer for months isn’t?” Patrick's teasing laughter fills the room as he continues to poke fun at Art's secret.

"Hey—you recognized them," Art scoffs, his embarrassment still palpable in his voice.

Patrick's eyes sparkle with mischief as he holds up the panties, examining them intently. "I can't even blame you," he teases, his tone filled with playful admiration. "I would've done the same if I had gotten dibs.”

"You have a girlfriend!" Art retorts, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and affectionate exasperation.

“Relax.” Patrick flashes a smug grin, tossing the panties back into the drawer before giving Art a firm pat on the shoulder. "I'm just messing with you." He saunters towards Art's desk chair, making himself comfortable as he sits down. "You should take her to this event with you, though.”

Art chooses to keep the truth that she is indeed his plus one to himself—for fear of the relentless teasing that would undoubtedly follow—he knows his friend all too well and can already anticipate the relentless jokes that would follow.

Patrick continues to tease Art, leaning forward in his seat. "You know she totally wants to fuck you, right?”

"Are you leaving or not?" Art rolls his eyes, his tone only half-joking.

Patrick stands up and ruffles Art's hair affectionately, pulling him into a warm hug. "Wear protection when you do finally fuck her, yeah?" Patrick teases.

"Fuck off," Art replies with a grin, embracing the hug they share. After a brief moment, he pulls away and asks, "When will you be back?"

"Two weeks or so," Patrick replies casually, strolling towards the doorway.

In the silence that follows Patrick's departure, Art's mind is left thinking about his words— "You know she totally wants to fuck you, right?" —the thought echoes through his mind. He takes a deep breath before returning to his closet.

Her

"I don't get it; he's so obviously into you," Tashi insists, her tone tinged with a hint of frustration as she assists with the zipper on her dress. "Give him a chance."

She raises an eyebrow at Tashi's suggestion, her voice tinged with a touch of amusement. "You're saying that as if I'm actively rejecting him," she says, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her words. "We both want to be friends—what's so wrong with that?—we're not ruining what we have."

Tashi lets out a sigh as she finishes zipping up her dress, her gaze lingering for a moment before she meets her eyes. "Don't you think you deserve a good fuck?" she says, her tone filled with amusement and suggestion. "And it's Art, c'mon."

She raises her eyebrow in response with a hint of humor, "You sound like you want to fuck him."

Tashi scoffs at her remark and instructs, "Turn around."

She turns to the side and takes a moment to analyze her reflection, a hint of uncertainty flickering across her face. "Please tell me you like this one, Tash," she implores, her voice tinged with a touch of vulnerability. "It's like the fifth one I've tried on."

Tashi takes a moment to admire her, humming appreciatively at the sight. "The baby pink flatters you. Give me a twirl." She commands.

"Tashi—" she begins, her tone laced with a hint of complaint, but her words are cut short as she sees the serious expression on Tashi's face. With a slight sigh, she complies, giving a quick spin and awaiting Tashi's evaluation.

Tashi's firm nod provides reassurance as she agrees, "This is the one." The decision is final—giving her stamp of approval.

The party takes place in the host’s luxurious estate, just a short distance from the university campus. Surrounded by a sea of middle-aged guests composed of friends, business associates, and others, Art deduces that they will probably be the youngest people at the event.

As she approaches, her eyes meet Art's as he stands in front of the house, his signature endearing grin widening when he notices her presence. A sense of warmth washes over her, the familiar crooked smile drawing her in—a gentle blush tints her cheeks.

"Look at you, Donaldson," she chuckles, her tone tinged with an affectionate sort of teasing.

“You look amazing in that dress,” Art replies, his sincerity shining through as his eyes practically twinkle, captivated by her beauty.

"Thanks, it was actually—" She stops herself, realizing she was about to mention that it was Tashi’s suggestion. Enough about Tashi—she’s here to spend the night with him . With a soft smile, she fixes her statement, "I chose it myself."

Art chuckles softly, expressing a tinge of regret. "You know, I feel kind of bad for dragging you here," he admits, acknowledging the lack of young people at the event. They look around, both recognizing the significant contrast in age among the guests.

"Don't feel bad, I'm the one who accepted the invitation," she replies, returning Art's smile. She then gestures towards the house, suggesting, "C'mon, let's grab a drink."

She wonders about Art's upbringing as they navigate the gathering, surrounded by guests of clearly wealthy backgrounds. Despite feeling somewhat out of place, she clings tightly to Art's side while politely greeting the various individuals who approach to greet them.

The first person to greet them is the host of the party. The older gentleman warmly approaches Art, his voice filled with fondness as he greets him. "Art Donaldson, my boy!" he exclaims, shaking Art's hand with a broad smile. "I am so glad you could make it."

Art responds with a warm smile before turning to introduce her. She offers a polite nod and a handshake as the host adds, "You're very lucky to be with him. He's an exceptional young man." There's a glint of pride in the host's eyes, emphasizing his admiration for Art.

A brief pause settles between them.

Art clears his throat and follows up with a nervous chuckle, gesturing between himself and her. “Oh, no—We’re not,” he clarifies, emphasizing their friendship. She chimes in, adding, "We're just friends."

The host responds with a chuckle and raises his glass, a suggestive smile playing on his lips. "Well, you're missing out." He then adds, "I grew up with his father, and I can tell you—marrying a Donaldson is the way to go.” Art can't help but feel himself cringe at the remark, silently wishing the conversation could end.

She exchanges a quick glance with Art, her amusement breaking through in the form of a small chuckle.

Art politely excuses himself from the conversation "It was great talking to you, Ron." He gestures towards her to subtly transition away from their interaction. "We're gonna go get ourselves a drink."

He turns to face her fully after stepping away. "That was embarrassing," he admits, his voice filled with a hint of nervousness.

She places her hand on Art's shoulder with a reassuring touch and laughs, "Art, I don't care." Her tone takes on a hint of lightheartedness. "If anything, it just made me curious." Her words are followed by a slightly mischievous smile as she jokes, "Maybe I’ll ditch tennis, work on my kitchen skills and try to inherit some of that Donaldson money ."

Art lets out a quick laugh as he reminiscences, his voice filled with nostalgia. "You know, you say that, but the real rich one is Patrick," he says. "You should see the estate he grew up in. It was like a castle."

"Is he really?" She turns to Art with a surprised expression. "He doesn't give off that energy," she remarks, still processing the new information.

As they walk side by side through the house, his smile widens as he continues, "Yeah, no, he's the real one you'd wanna marry."

She shakes her head with a soft scoff, a gentle chuckle escaping her lips. "I don't, though—thank god," she says, her tone light-hearted. But then she adds, "But whoever marries you will be one lucky girl." The sincerity in her voice is unmistakable as she turns her gaze away from Art for a brief moment, allowing the weight of her words to settle between them.

Art responds with a confident tone. "Whoever marries you will be just as lucky," he assures her. He maintains a casual demeanor, his hands casually placed with one in his pocket and the other holding his drink.

She responds with a disbelieving "yeah right" kind of smile, shaking her head slightly.

"I’m serious," he assures her, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

"What, you're making a promise to me? That I'll become a millionaire?" she says, a mix of amusement and disbelief on her face. Art's seriousness only adds to her amusement, but there's a softer quality to her laughter—a subtle appreciation for his sincerity.

Art smiles with an endearing smirk, confidently asserting, "Damn straight." There's a boyish charm in his expression as he speaks, his words carrying a hint of sweetness. "And—you know I keep my promises. You'll see."

Their eyes connect as she raises her glass—a hint of determination in her gaze.

"I guess I'll drink to that." Her words hang in the air, full of potential.

"Cheers." Art responds, a smile ghosting the corners of his lips as he clinks his glass against hers.

The night carries on with a familiar pattern—a guest would approach them both and express how lovely they look together, only for her to correct the assumption that they're a couple. Each time it happens, a mixture of awkwardness and lightheartedness fills the air, as they gently assert the truth about their friendship, finding humor in their inability to convince people otherwise.

The repetition starts to set in, and she decides to switch things up a bit, joining in on the playful act. An elderly woman approaches them with the customary question, "So, are you two together?"

Before Art can respond, she jumps in, her smile growing wider as she confidently replies, "Yes, yes we are." She locks eyes with Art, enjoying the playfulness of the moment.

"Oh, bless you two," The elderly woman's words wash over them, her voice laced with genuine joy. "What a beautiful pair," she continues, her words resonating with both of them. As Art listens, a new and unfamiliar feeling begins to emerge within him.

Art's gaze remains fixed on her as they make their way through the event, captivated by her every move. He watches as she interacts with other guests, her reserved demeanor adding to the allure of her presence. With each glance—Art finds himself lost in admiration as she graciously navigates the party—her charm and grace radiating softly.

Art is pulled out of his entranced state as she approaches, and he feels her whisper against his ear. "C’mon, I need a break from these people," she murmurs, her touch sending a jolt through him.

As they retreat into a quieter area of the house, Art walks along her side, his footsteps matching hers as they make their way down a calmer corridor. Upon reaching a quieter corner, he turns to her, "You okay?" His eyes meet hers, searching for any sign of discomfort.

She reassures him with a steady, "Yeah," her tone filled with a hint of playfulness. "I just wanted to escape for a moment." A subtle smile plays at the corners of her lips as she takes in their isolated surroundings. "I'm sure we won't be missed too much."

Art's amused huff turns into a soft smile as he watches her glance at the wide oval staircase, her hand reaching out to gather the delicate material of her dress. She walks up a few steps and takes a seat at an angle that offers some privacy from the area below.

Looking up, he spots her waiting for him, her head peeking over the railing, gesturing for him to join her. Without hesitation, he slowly makes his way up and moves to sit beside her, his eyes meeting hers.

Art feels his heart flutter as he struggles to find the right words to continue the conversation, but the coy smile on her face eases his anxiety. He swallows nervously before confessing, "I really want to kiss you right now." His voice comes out only barely about a whisper, a slight shakiness to it.

"I can tell." Her gentle reply comes in a whisper, as she brings her hand up to tenderly cup his face—a small curve in her lips forming at his confession.

Art holds his breath as she leans in, the closeness of her face and the anticipation building between them. He feels her approach, her lips parting slightly, and his breath catches in his chest, the tension growing. She teases him—letting her lips hover just millimeters away—her eyes glinting with mischief. Unable to resist any longer, she finally closes the gap between them, her lips gently brushing against his in a soft, tender kiss.

Art feels his heart race as his senses come alive, his body reacting to her touch, and he reaches out instinctively, his hands finding purchase on her waist. The kiss grows more desperate, yet the pace remains unhurried as they take their time to savor the moment. Their breaths intertwine as their lips meet again and again—creating a sweet symphony of open-mouthed kisses.

Art's mind reels as she tangles her fingers into his curls, keeping his head in place as their tongues seek one another's. His hands wander with a mind of their own, slipping from her waist to her hips and back again—his movements are gentle but indicative of his growing desire.

As their lips part, they both take a moment to catch their breath, breathing unevenly. Art gazes at her, his eyes filled with an adoration that borders on pitiful. The expression on his face makes her laugh softly, brushing a curl away from his face before pressing tender kisses along his jawline. He lets out a gentle sigh as she continues, her lips tracing their way down the sensitive skin of his neck.

Art's heart races as she moves her hands towards his belt, her coy smirk sending his senses into overdrive. "Is this okay?" she asks in a hushed tone, and his breath hitches in his chest. It’s clear that she’s enjoying the effect she has on him—how flustered she can make him.

“Here?” He swallows hard and glances over the railing to ensure nobody else is around. The thrill of the moment combines with the uncertainty, leaving him both nervous and eager at the same time.

"No one can see us from here," she whispers, the corners of her lips curled into the same little smirk.

Art's hand cradles her face—his expression is one of awe and almost disbelief as he gazes upon her—his voice dropping to a low, husky tone. "You're gonna kill me," he murmurs, his words a fervent whisper, his cheeks flushed a rosy shade of pink.

Her teeth graze across her bottom lip for a quick moment as she unbuckles his belt, reaching down to stroke his length, pumping him slowly in her hand. Art's head tips back momentarily as a quick huff escapes his parted lips, his attempt to maintain his composure failing yet again. Before he can regain his self-control, she leans in and seals their lips together in a sweet, tender kiss.

In a swift movement, Art finds himself leaning back, his body supported by the step behind him as he tries to suppress the sounds of his heavy breathing—her lips move up and down his hard length, stopping at his tip to shower it with small kisses and tentative licks—causing him to bite down on the inside of his cheek.

A soft moan escapes Art's lips, her name on his tongue like a sweet, desperate prayer. "Please," he begs, struggling from her teasing.

She listens to his sounds intensify as she fully wraps her mouth around him, her hands resting at the base of his crotch as she moves her head up and down in a rhythmic motion—his whimpers and grunts sound sweet and almost submissive—each sound fuels her determination to push him further.

"I'm not gonna last—" he warns her, his body growing warmer by the second, his skin flushed with a fiery shade of pink. He clings desperately to the railing, his grip tightening.

She swirls her tongue continuously as she gently takes his hand and guides it to her head, giving him permission to let go of his inhibitions. Art can't resist the pull, his fingers eagerly tangling through the fiery strands of her hair.

A string of cuss words escape Art’s lips as his breathing picks up and his grip around her hair tightens as he reaches his climax, his head hanging back and his eyes closing. She keeps her mouth sealed around his tip, swallowing every last drop before sitting back up straight and wiping her mouth with a blushed smirk.

Art's eyes flutter open, and a small chuckle escapes his lips—a hint of embarrassment mixing with the lingering heat of their encounter. He takes a moment to collect himself, tucking himself back into his pants with a slight hint of nervousness. His mind whirls for a moment, unsure of what to say or do next.

Her smile melts into a contented expression, her hand resting gently on top of Art's. Just as she stands up to take a step further, Art's soft plea stops her in her tracks. "Wait—" his voice resonates with a gentle urgency, his eyes fixating on her. "I want to do something for you." he whispers, his gaze locking onto hers.

“You don’t have to.” Her humble response hangs in the air, her voice soft and warm.

Art's eyes remain committed, his voice firm but affectionate. "I want to. Please?” Pulling gently on her hand, he brings her back to where he's sitting, his gesture filled with a quiet assertiveness.

Her eyes reflect in a loving manner as she nods in agreement, her gaze wandering across his face. Art leans in closer, his hand moving smoothly, gliding up to her inner thigh. The touch of his hand sends a shiver through her body, and she meets his advance by pressing her lips to his once again.

She assists by gathering the fabric of her dress, pulling it up a little further to allow him full access. Hesitantly, he trails his fingers along the fabric of her panties—his touch very light as he brushes across her soft spot.

"I'm not made of porcelain," She teases, amused by his shy touch. Her words carry a hint of reassurance, “I won’t break.” She takes his hand and presses it firmly against her, encouraging him to touch her with more pressure.

Art's hand reluctantly withdraws, and she quickly readjusts her dress back into place, just as the sound of footsteps reaches their ears. In a flash, they dart towards another secluded corner, Art's hand tightly held in hers. A sense of relief washes over them, and she lets out a soft chuckle.

Art's eyes meet hers, his gaze filled with longing—a silent plea of sorts.

“Listen, I should probably head back now.” She begins, still holding his hand in hers as she speaks. “We should probably keep this between us, I wouldn't want—”

“—Tashi to find out. I get it.” Art nods in agreement, a knowing smile playing on his lips, his tone understanding. “I’m glad you could be my plus one tonight.” He chuckles lightly.

"No regrets." She echoes his sentiment, adding her own affirmation to his words.

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spidybaby · 2 days

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Dull shine part 2 pleeeeease 😫❤️ ur srsly talented!!!

Dull Shine | Part Two

Summary: An advice and looking into the mirror makes Kylian understand why you left.

Warnings: cursing, depression topic, money issues.

A/N: It's meeee hiiii, I'm the problem it's ME. Sorry about taking so much time, I was solving some personal things, and now I'm freeeee 😫✨️ love you all so much ❤️

Also, heads-up, this is short because I think it's all it needs, not a full part two, more like a compliment that seals the deal 😀❤️

Part one

One day left.

That's what Kylian told himself when he woke up.

One day left for you to come back.

He can't deny that he wasn't the most excited person in the room the next day at practice. Everybody noticed, it was like everybody knew what happened that night.

But not at Luis Enrique's home. At his own, when he told you to move on from the problem he created.

When he ignored you, back turned to you. When you needed him the most. Every time he thinks about it, his heart sinks. It's a weight he's not able to lift.

His mother was the first to notice your absence. He walked into his home with something for you and you weren't there.

The first excuse. "She's working late."

Then it was Ethan. He called you to go to the movies and have a fun night. Wanting to see you after being busy with the team.

The second excuse. "She's sick, have a cold."

They both believed his words. Thinking you were being taken care of by him. But when the excuses kept coming. It wasn't normal anymore.

"Just be honest, we are your family." Fayza says. Sitting next to him. "Tell us what happened."

He sighs, ready to finally disclose his feelings. "She left a week and a half ago." He confess. Hands covering his face. "We had a fight, I said some things just days before, and she wasn't at the right mental place to deal with everything."

They didn't understood. How?

"What do you mean she left?" Ethan asks, standing up from his seat. "She left just like that? You let her leave just like that?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Kylian fights back. "She had her things packed, her ticket purchased and I thought that was the best thing. Don't you think this hurts me?"

"I can't believe you, Kylian. You lie to us, instead of admit that you fucked up. You lie straight to our faces."

"I was hurt, Y/n left, I was scared of facing that."

Fayza is silent, processing the information while her sons yell at each other.

"Enough, Ethan, sit down." She orders. "Kylian, you two broke up?"

He shakes his head no. "She just needed time. We were just not working together in understanding each others probl-"

"More like you weren't." Ethan interrupts. "Because all I hear is me, me, me. But you don't really think that same thinking got you where you are?"

He didn't fight back.

He knows his little brother is right.

"When will she be back?" His mother asks, worried expression.

"In a few days."

And those few days turned into just a few hours.

To be honest with himself, he was stressed. You were going to be back in Paris, but we're you going to be back with him?

Will the break become a breakup?

He was overthinking. That was not good.

Hakimi felt bad. He knew you better. When he heard what Kylian told him about you leaving, about Pamela belittling you, he checked his cameras.

The good thing about having money is that you can afford a very good quality security system. He heard how Pamela attacked you first. You then answered back, but you weren't going to let yourself get insulted.

He apologized to you over text. Asking you to forgive him and tell you how much guilt he feels about this whole situation.

When you read the texts, you felt weird. It wasn't his fault, or even Pamela's.

Everything was a mix of frustration, sadness and low self-respect you had for yourself.

You defend yourself from Pamela, but who was going to defend you from yourself?

You were the one belittling yourself.

Were you enough? You are.

But were you feeling enough? No.

Were you happy with Kylian?

And that question burned your mind for days.

You loved Kylian, he was your rock and you were his rock. You passed some critical times, but nothing like this.

Because he was there for you when you needed him the most, he was there when you lost someone, he was there when you felt homesick, he was there at you happiest.

But you didn't allow him to he at your lowest.

You notice how he was going out more, but he always asked you to come with him. Begged you to leave the house and accompany him.

You notice how he never heard you talk. But you barely even made conversation. You let him speak. When it was your turn, you only said, "I had a good day."

He had to fulfill the quietness with words.

Your mother asked you to think about therapy. Maybe there was something you needed that she or anyone couldn't understand. Something only you could.

And you did. You went to therapy while you were there. Every two days.

It was just the beginning, but it helped you understand that you had more than just a relationship problem. In fact, the relationship problem came from this.

Being blue is normal. We all feel like that.

But when you don't treat it, it can be rough. And you were doing that now, understanding that you needed help. Help that a trip home won't give you. Help that a fight with your friends new girlfriend won't give you.

But help that your lover can give you. He can be the hand to hold during this.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Yes, I know now what I need to do." You say, hugging your friend.

You felt nervous about coming back.

Would he be okay with that?

Did he realize he didn't need you anymore?

If only you knew how anxious he is at Paris. Watching the time every five minutes to see if your arrival time is coming closer.

He prepared your favorite meal. Got your favorite dessert, your favorite drink and even prepare everything for a bubble bath.

He needed you to know how much he appreciates you, how important you are for him.

You were nervous too, your leg bouncing and bitting your nails. You brought him a gift from your home. Something he asked you a long time ago, and you never got due to not being able to travel back home.

You asked for an Uber. Not wanting his chauffeur to pick you or him to get out in the coldness of Paris.

The whole drive was painful. You were overthinking.

Both of you were.

"Would she be back to stay?"

"Is this going to end?"

"What if he doesn't want me back?"

"What if this is the end?"

"Madame, we are here." The Uber called your attention once your things were next to you on the street.

"Merci beaucoup." You say, paying him and telling him that you will take it from here.

You open the gate with your control. The sound of it interrupting the calm of the evening.

When he heard the sound, his heart stopped for a second. He was about to throw up from nerves.

The giggle of the keys makes him stop, he feels like throwing up. He took a sip of water before looking at himself on his phone camera, checking if he looked presentable.

The smell of food hits you as soon as you walk inside. Leaving your suitcase by the stairs and slowly walking inside trying to find him.

His back welcomes you, he's focused on his phone to notice you walking into the kitchen. The table was ready, your favorite food ready to be served.

"Kyks?"

He turns quickly, smiling at you with soft eyes. He walks with open arms to you. You lock your arms behind his back, feeling his kisses on your face.

"Mon amour." He kiss your forehead. "How was your flight? Did you even sleep? Are you hungry? I made your favorite meal and I was waiting f-"

You interrupted him by kissing his lips, and all the worries from both of you are out the door. You know he's not mad, and he knows you still love him.

"It was good. Thank you for updating my seat." You answer his questions. "I did sleep, almost all the flight, and I'm very hungry. Thank you for cooking. I can't wait to try it."

He kiss you on the lips, smiling into the kiss. His safe space is back with him. There is nothing better right now.

He pulls you to the chairs, serving you the food and drink. You can tell he was happy. He looked fresh.

You eat in silence. The peace of it is different than before. There was no more weird silence that a video or keyboard sound filled.

"Thank you, I really appreciate this."

He nods, waiting for the right time to talk about all the things that need to be talked about. He lays his head on your shoulder. Kissing your neck.

You feel the same. You want to jump and talk about everything to end the topic and move on. But that was not the way.

However, procrastinating the conversation wasn't the way either. "Let's talk. The faster, the better." You smile.

"Impatient much?" He jokes. Standing up and taking the plates to the sink. "Let's go to the living room?"

You nod, standing up and grabbing his hand, directing him to the big fluffy couch you both love.

"I want to start." He says as soon as his body falls into the cushion.

"Okay, lovie." You smile.

He thinks for a second, how can he ask what he needs to ask? He knows that no matter what, it will hit.

"Why weren't you honest about you having money issues?"

Your expression didn't change. You knew he knew. Celine asked you to pick your check a few days after you asked her you were taking a few days off to rest your mind.

You asked Kylian to pick it up, and Celine gave him a piece of her mind. She felt bad about doing it and called you a few hours later.

She told him that he was an asshole if he couldn't even tell that you were having issues not only with your peace of mind but with how much you worked and felt bad about never been able to match the lifestyle he was.

"I don't have money issues, Ky." You say, low but enough for him to hear. "What I had was the concept that I needed to have a certain amount of money to be enough for you. Leading to me working extra and feeling less than everybody who was around and could give themselves the benefit of spending what I earned in a nightclub."

He nods, understanding. "You know that I'm not like that, right?"

"I do. You always supported me in any way you could. And I'm grateful for you. I just felt so out of place." You sigh. "And every girl who got close to your friends always asked me about your ex, how she was this way and this way. I felt like competing."

He can feel his heart sinks. He never wanted you to compare yourself to the girls he dated. There was a reason why he was done with those relationships.

"You are so smart." He says, hand caressing your cheek. "You have no idea how much I ever wanted to end with someone like you. Not only beautiful but a very strong woman who doesn't need other peoples opinions and who can shine on her own."

You can feel your eyes watering. You never thought that his words were something you needed, but you did.

"My ex-girlfriends are just that. Exes. You are my present and my future." He kiss your cheek. "And I want you to know that no amount of money or any girl who I ever got anything with is going to take the place you have in my heart. You are the one."

Your lips found his, you can't think of any future plans or anything that didn't include him. You know he was your one, and knowing you are his one is heartwarming.

"I'm sorry, I know I was acting like a bitch. I think I felt way too comfortable, and I was so wrong for not noticing that you weren't you. I promise I'm not going to let that happen again."

"Thank you for that." You smile. "I'm sorry too, I was overwhelmed with all the thoughts in my mind. I think I let the worst of it hit me and never paint mind to it."

"It's okay." He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it. "You have me, and I'm going to be with you every step of the way."

The warmth in your heart is hard to describe. You are sure he will be with you no matter what. The same way you were for him when he needed you.

You hug him, falling into his embrace. His hands caressing your body while he left sweet words in your ear.

"We are going to be okay because we have each other." He kiss your lips and your head. "Tu m’as et je t’ai. Je t’aime, tu es mon monde." He humms.

#football #football fanfic #football angst #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian x reader #kylian angst #kylian mbappe x reader #football fluff #kylian fluff #football x you

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