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gothic-thoughts · 3 months ago

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Get What You Ask For

(sry bout the mini hiatus, almost scrapped this shit like twice and had nothin else to post 🙄)

Ghost Riley x Black Fem Reader Smut

MDNI, Princess!Reader, Black Knight!Ghost, Bodyguard!Ghost

Part 2: Right Here

CW: trying to seduce him but he flips it on you, fingering in bath, not proofread

Word Count: 2182 (give or take)

Yes, you were the princess but that doesn't mean you didn't have a curfew. It was for your safety but you didn't care. The village was always prettier at night and you can only see the edge of it from your window. It wasn't fair and knowing that, you always managed to escape from the palace. Tonight was supposed to be the same as all the others until you opened your door and jumped back, clutching your chest at the sight of a Black Knight blocking your doorway. Despite his dark metal helmet resting under his arm, you still couldn’t see his face thanks to the black face mask that hid everything but his eyes.

"Princess." He bowed at his waist respectfully.

You stammer in confusion for half a second before composing yourself enough to bow back. “Good evening...?”

"You really like pushing your curfew a little farther every night, don't you?" He said in a low, mocking tone.

“And who, pray tell, are you?”

"I’m Simon Riley; they call me 'Ghost'."

“And what are you doing at my door...?”

"I have been assigned as your new bodyguard. It seems I've come at the perfect time."

You scoff in disbelief. “New? What happened to my old one?”

"Fired.” He said bluntly, sidestepping you as he walked into your room, “I'm afraid it's been decided that he cannot be trusted with your safety."

You groan slightly, shutting the door. “Who decided that!? The maids couldn’t have, they always comment on how good of an influence he was being.”

Simon didn’t answer for a bit, making you rest your hands on your hips and watch as he looked around. You watch his eyes dart about, taking note of everything in your room from the windows to the bathing area. He peeked through the curtains and looked out into the gardens below but little did you know he was envisioning how you escaped every night. He chuckles to himself and when you call his name in annoyance, he pulls the curtains shut before turning to look at you.

“Not a good enough influence it seems, seeing that you’re all dressed up for another secret night out.”

“Tell me who got Brian fired!”

Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, "The King, Princess." He said in a deadpan voice.

“What? You’re joking.”

“I don’t get paid to joke with you, I get paid to watch you.”

“That... That bastard hired a Black Knight to watch me instead of a different palace guard!? I know it might not have mattered, but I am not some criminal! Ugh, I can’t believe him!”

"I'm sure you'll live."

“Hush! You can't stay anyway, I haven't bathed yet so you'll have to go...”

“You have a divider; I’ll stand by the bed.”

“Uh, no. You're supposed to stand outside and guard the door.”

"Maybe your old guard. I've been given permission to remain by your side at all times.”

“I'm sorry, what?”

"Did I stutter?" Ghost starts walking, “Since you managed to sneak out, what, your father told me 15 times? You're stuck with me 24/7 until further notice, Princess, whether you like it or not. Bathing is the least of your worries."

The Black Knight was now standing right in front of you while you tried to play off how intimidating his intensity was with a disinterested groan despite feeling slightly defeated. You had planned to see the fountain in front of the village gates tonight only for it to be ruined by your father and your newly assigned guard dog. You begrudgingly walk over to the bathing area and pull the divider in front of the tub with a huff of frustration before running the bath. You put your hair up in a bun then drop your gown to the floor as a desperate, last-choice idea popped into your head.

An idea that you've never tried on a knight, or had to try. Once naked, you step into the bubble bath and sit down, leaning back against the porcelain until I was up to my neck in hot water and soap bubbles. Ghost leaned against your bedpost, waiting for you to finish. He was used to staying by princesses and guarding them, but you were more of a pain than the others. He glanced at your discarded gown and then at the frosted glass separating you from him. You clear your throat, ready to put your plan into action.

“What village are you from, Ghost?”

"None that you would recognize, Miss." He called back.

“I'm guessing you’re betrothed.”

"What makes you say that?"

“Well you're a big, strong knight... a soldier. Women adore feeling protected... So I was thinking one had tried to get you off the market.”

Your comment caught him off guard for a moment but he quickly recomposed himself, looking at the between you two again.

"I’m not wed, Princess.”

“Mm... no women have captured your heart~? That's a shame...”

He scoffs to himself, rolling his eyes, “You think so?”

“I would think women would be clamoring to see what you look like under your helmet since intensity can be very attractive.”

"Princess, how long do you plan to stay in that tub?"

“I, um... need my towel! I must've left it out there, could you... bring it over?”

His eyes narrowed; it wasn't unusual for princesses to ask him for things, but this just seemed a bit too sketchy. He weighed his options for a moment before sighing to himself. He walked over to the bed and found the towel you had left behind then slowly approached the divider, his eyes narrowed the closer he got all while you smiled at the fact your plan was working.

“You can come around... I'm under the bubbles...”

Simon hesitated for a moment, getting the feeling you were up to something. He steps around the wall of frosted glass and glances at the bubbles that shroud every part of your body except the top of your breasts and up. He sighed before slowly stepping closer to the foot of your tub, his eyes never leaving your obscured body.

"Here's your towel, Princess."

He held out the towel towards the water, his eyes darting to the bubbles for a moment, thinking as you leaned forward, risking exposing more of your breasts to reach for the towel. He knows a princess would never do that— risk their modesty for a towel. Right as your fingers were about to get the soft fabric, Ghost quickly moved the towel just barely out of your reach, eyebrow-raising as your face changed.

“Wha- Ghost—”

"You didn’t really think I’d fall for that, did you Princess?”

“What are you talking about, I haven't done anything!”

"You think I was born yesterday?" He steps around the bathtub until he squats behind you, whispering, "You and I both know that you were trying to pull.”

You look over your shoulder, “What are you talking about?”

“The old 'accidentally drop the towel' trick."

“I was not!”

"Oh and I'm supposed to believe that?"

“Yes, I may have snuck out but I—”

“You sound extremely defensive for someone who didn't try to pull that stunt."

“Because I didn’t! I would never!”

"If you say so, Princess. Then why did you ask me to bring you your towel?"

“Because...”

You tilt your head to the side to escape the nice feeling of his warm breath on your neck, Even though you tried to move away, you weren't fast enough. When you tilted your head to the side, it only brought his face closer to your neck, his breath grazing over your skin.

“Because...?”

“Because I forgot it—“

"Really?"

“Yes.” You snap, “I didn't know forgetting was an issue.”

“No, the issue is you want your bodyguard to see you...” You hear Simon drop the towel, “Covered in nothing but bubbles...” He gently wraps his hand around your neck, “In the hopes that I’d just crumble and let you go live la vida fucking loca...” He tilts your head back until you can see his eyes, “Just like your last guard did. Is that right?”

You tense, trembling slightly as you search for any words to reply with. How was he doing this to you with fear? You were a Princess— the daughter of his king— he wasn’t supposed to talk to you this boldly, much less touch you like this. You knew he was a different type of knight but that always meant he was brutal and such but this was different.

You were now terrified of him since he didn’t care about any rules or regulations regarding touching a princess, that, and the fact that he could break your neck right here with a single grunt. He was terrifying but you were so consumed by curiosity, you didn’t dare say anything to make him think that you wanted him to stop touching you. A low sigh escaped Ghost’s lips as he looked down at you, his cold eyes meeting yours for the first time.

“You very are a difficult person to guard, you know that?” He gently squeezes your throat, his thumb running over your pulse in a slow, taunting manner, “And the worst part of that is you're only difficult because you won't let me."

You gasp as his other hand comes around and slides down into the bubbles to massage your breasts, rough fingers pinching your nipple and rolling it back and forth.

“Y-you...”

“Mhm? What is it Princess?”

“Y-you can't touch me like th-this...”

He scoffed and tilted your head so you were looking into his eyes again. “So you can try to manipulate me... and now you’re telling me what I can and can’t do?”

“Well, I-I...”

“You’ve been nothing but a nuisance since I arrived, trying to get me to let down my guard. You’ve played your games and now it’s my turn.”

His hands were roaming your body, caressing every inch as he pleased. Eventually, his hand lowers deeper into the water, keeping your head tilted back as his hands slot between your thighs, making you gasp and tense up, looking up at him. He feels you stiffen beneath him but continues to tease your body slowly. He could see that you were having trouble fighting the words on your lips as he explored every inch of your body in the water. Slowly, one of his fingers slips deeper between your legs, gently grazing over your core to test your reaction.

“O-Oh my god...”

“Mm?”

He chuckled lowly and gently massaged between your folds, feeling the warmth radiating from your body. He was slowly getting addicted to it and you were getting so needy. He didn’t want this to end. Simon leaned forward a bit more, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear as he spoke.

“Still going to sit there and keep insisting that you didn’t try and trick me?”

Your legs try to close. “I-I wasn't...”

He tsked and shoved your thighs back apart, your knees thudding against the inside of the tub, the fingers slipping inside you.

“Keep 'em open.” His lips lightly brushed over your neck, slowly kissing you before moving back up to continue, "Oh and I don’t believe you.”

He said, gently spreading you open for his fingers to push deeper inside with ease. He could feel every twitch you made as he stroked your walls with slow, circular motions.

“I... I should tell my father about this...

He laughed at your comment and his hand stopped, pulling back from you. He was so close to just giving in and taking you completely.

“You could, Princess." He said bluntly while looking at your flustered face, “Be sure not to leave out the part about you seducing me.”

“You're a Black Knight, you’re not supposed to be seduced...”

He curls his fingers inside you. “And you’re supposed to behave, but that hasn’t stopped either of us from breaking the rules.”

Your head falls back further and rests on the edge of the tub. “Y-you're... a bastard.”

“Mhm.” He said as he gently ran his hand over your clit, pressing a finger into your warmth, “And you’re a spoiled fucking brat.”

You look back down, whimpering at how sexy his muscular arm looked disappearing into the bubbles. His hand moved to grip your cheek so you were looking at him again, loving how flustered and needy you looked as you stared up at him with pleading eyes.

“I wonder what your father would think of this.” His thumb gently grazed over your bottom lip, “He’d be livid wouldn’t he~?”

“Shut it...”

“Or you’ll do what?”

“I'll... I'll get you f-fired...”

His fingers curl, pumping in and out even faster, using his other hand to cover your mouth.

“You won’t.” He hums and gently massages circles on your clit with his thumb, a small smile dancing across his lips, “You’re too busy enjoying this.”

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Part 2 right here y'all

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cupidisaliar · 6 months ago

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Bound by infinity ♾️

Gojo x student reader

No warnings i guess. Let me know if there are any I should add. Second fic from a long ass hiatus of one post haha.

Sorcery training wrapped up, and you pack belongings and bid your peers farewell.

It was Panda's bright idea to have you and the rest of the first years run around the track, making you realize how out of shape you are.

It's hard work, you must admit—the whole sorcerer thing.

You navigate the familiar halls exhausted, heading to your dorm room, and unintentionally collide with your sensei, Gojo Satoru.

Unbeknownst to you, his technique, infinity, remains in place.

"Oops," you chuckle breathlessly. "Sorry! Bye, Sensei!" Your words accompany a slight bump, making him step slightly to the right. With an awkward smile, you turn to leave.

Gojo is in front of you again.

'Well, he can teleport…' you recall, 'and he's annoying.'

You look up, and although his blindfold remains around his eyes, he appears to be staring right at you. His eyes seem to pierce through the black cloth, through you. A slight chill crawls up your spine.

"…Are you okay, sensei?" you inquire.

Gojo doesn't move an inch, his gaze still on you. Neither of you says a word as the silence becomes deafening. A leaky faucet, a bird's chirp, and an unmoving Gojo suddenly become the focus of your attention.

After what feels like forever, a light smile graces his emotionless face.

"I'm just testing my infinity, that is all..." he finally speaks, a light smile still adorning his face.

You blink, "Okay, what about it?" You sigh, assuming he wants you to humour him; he always thinks he is funny.

"I was curious whether the effects of my infinity technique would be negated if a force bumped into me by accident." He says flatly.

"Doesn't it always?" you shrug.

The gears begin to turn in your head.

Doesn't it always…

"My infinity has always negated forces that approach it. Someone has never bumped into me... At least not that I am aware of." He crosses his arms.

You say nothing, and the words won't come out. They aren't even there.

'Did I just…'

After a moment, Gojo seems amused by something. "Well, let's keep it between us, and the rest of the school shall not know about this." He says with a slight chuckle.

Gojo smiles. "Don't worry about it, it doesn't affect me. And I won't say anything. But..." he pauses. "I am just curious... How did you get past my infinity?"

You shake your head. "I...I don’t-I don’t know…” You stammer.

"Well, I guess I'll keep my curiosity in check..." he chuckles again. "Have a good day, Y/N ."

He then proceeds to walk away.

'Should I also leave, or should I continue to the dorms? What should I do? Infinity? How does that work again?' Your thoughts dance and taunt you around as you watch your sensei leave.

You snap out of it when he's out of sight and run to your dorm. Exhausted from training and the interaction with Gojo.

'It all feels like a bad dream. Gojo Satoru is the strongest.' It was probably just a slip-up. His infinity wasn't up, and he assumed it was.

Changing into sleepwear, you are about to settle into bed when there is a knock at the door.

You open the door only to find Gojo sensei standing before you.

"I have a question for you," he says, walking in without waiting for an answer.

"Uhm..make yourself at home, I guess—"

Ignoring you, he walks to the center of your bedroom and looks at you.

"Why can you bypass my infinity technique? My curiosity got the best of me," he says, not blinking.

He's blinking? Oh..his blindfold is off. You notice it hanging around his neck. Blue eyes peer at you, and he seems eager for a reply.

"Sensei..." you start. I honestly have no idea."… I'm sorry," you say. It's all you can manage; a worried look plagues your face.

"It is alright; you don't need to worry." He smiles, almost in an odd manner. I just wanted to know how you managed to do it. But... if you don't know how you did it, then I am even more curious," he muses, walking over and leaning on your wall.

"Honestly, it was probably a one-time thing… maybe," you shrug, attempting to grasp a coherent sentence. "You're tired…maybe it wasn't even on—"

"Nah, It was definitely on," Gojo replies flatly. "But, I am still curious…" he says; he seems to peer at your soul without that blindfold.

"Do you want to try again?" You cut him off.

Gojo is silent, his eyes widened slightly. A small smile slowly comes across his face.

"Yes," he agrees, his eyes still glued to you.

You slowly reach your hand out, your palm outstretched.

Gojo looks back at your hand, then back at your eyes.

He steps away from the wall, still smiling. "So…you want to try this?" he questions, his tone serious.

"Yeah, is your infinity on?" You fail to hide your nervousness. Your voice shakes, as does your hand.

Gojo pauses for a moment to think about his answer. "It is, yes," he says without blinking as he watches you.

Your hand lingers in the air, shaking slightly as you wait for him to move. You take a deep breath, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth.

"You know what this technique is, right?" he asks, stepping closer to you. It means nothing can touch me, nothing can hurt me." He is so close to you.

"I know," you barely whisper.

Gojo lets us have an airy chuckle, breaking the tension in the room. His eyes seem so bright, brighter than ever.

You can't seem to see what's boiling underneath.

“Try it.” he challenges, his hand almost touching yours now, the other in his pocket.

You move your hand toward him, touching it effortlessly and going through his infinity.

Your hand is touching Gojo’s, and you keep your eyes glued to the back of your hands touching. You expected nothing to happen. It has always been an impenetrable technique, but for some reason, your hand is touching his during his infinity.

You hear Gojo gasp. “Incredible,” he whispers.

You swallow air, and your blood runs cold. Why do you have such a bad feeling about all of this?

Gojo looks straight at you. His eyes look curious as if he's studying you. “Can you pull your hand back?” he asks.

“Yeah..” You pull your hand back and put it back to your side.

“And nothing happened to you?” he asks, unblinking. “I feel fine, sensei.”

“I see..” he smiles, looking down at his hand. You wonder why he seems so giddy. Is he okay? You have to ask. “Gojo, are you–?”

He’s laughing. Laughter filled with joy and excitement.

“Sensei..” you try to talk to him.

Gojo is laughing joyously; you've never heard him laugh like this.

“Sensei, are you okay?”

“I've never seen anything like this... Y/n.. you can get past my infinity!” He beams. “You didn’t feel anything, did you?”

You shake your head. “N-no, I didn’t,” you mumble.

Gojo smiles. “Well, that settles it. It seems to me you have an immunity to infinity.”

He pauses for a moment, looking–no staring at you, like that would help him understand the reason behind all of this.

“I must say, I find you very interesting. I have never met anyone like you.” He comments, his unblinking eyes filled with fascination.

“What do you mean?” You question.

“Just as I said, it’s rare that I meet someone who can neutralize my technique. In all my years, I have never seen someone with that ability. It’s only been objects.”

You nod. You’re worried. You want to know what all this means. You look back up, and Gojo looks off to the side. You follow his gaze to a jewelry box in your room.

“Now then!” he clasps his hands together. “For now, this will remain our little secret..” You notice he speaks in a light-hearted tone now.

“..Until it is necessary to get more people to know.” He says, letting out a small chuckle.

“Why would they–” You start.

“Don’t worry,” Gojo says. You aren’t sure if he is reassuring you or himself. “It is simply because I know some people would definitely want their hands on that technique you have.

What a scary thought.

“But… we can cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, don't worry, my Y/N.

You almost miss it.

My Y/n?

You swallow… “Sensei, are you okay? I want to know because you are the strongest, but I can get past your technique.

“I am perfectly fine.” He replies sternly.

He notices your worried expression.

“I’m fine, Y/n. I know you are probably confused right now. This will all make sense in time.” He crosses his arms.

He walks towards you, towering over you.

“Now.. do not let any doubts creep into your mind,” he says, pulling his blindfold up. “You will be fine. Just leave everything to me.” You watch as he ties his hair up with it, and it obscures those piercing blue irises.

You nod. “Yeah,” you reply. Of course, you trust Gojo. You always have.

Always.

Gojo sensei smiles back, his expression filled with assurance. He knows you have doubts.

“Let me give you a piece of advice,” he says, dropping his hands. Now, he looks like how he usually does, hidden from the world.

“You seem very kind. In our world, sorcerers are not always the best people. But you…you have a kind heart. I can see that.”

“Do not let anyone change that. You hear me?” He adds, raising his voice slightly.

“I promise,” You reply.

“...Good…”

Gojo pats you on the shoulder. “I trust you. You can trust me?” He asks. You can’t tell whether it was a question or a statement. He sounds almost remorseful.

You feel a sadness brewing inside him, the calm before the storm. He’s troubled.

“Isn’t this so weird?” you blurt out; it's your attempt at lightening the mood.

Gojo smiles, seeming relieved.

“It is weird, isn’t it?” he replies in your light-hearted manner.

“It feels as though destiny crossed our paths. Maybe fate brought us together,” he says thoughtfully and slightly sad.

“Maybe it did.” You say.

He pats your back.

“Now, I have something to attend to. Come to me, and only me, if you need anything.” He says, walking to your door.

“Goodbye, Y/n.” He says, back still turned

He leaves, shutting the door.

He left his worry in the room with you; it’s suffocating. You feel like you can’t breathe.

That terrible feeling in your gut never went away.

You don’t think it ever will now

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x student reader #gojo x student #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #yandere gojo #gojo #gojo saturo

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newtkelly · 14 days ago

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Not to word vomit on you but I can't stop thinking about Oliver wanting a love story like Tarlos and how it all accidentally lined up.

Knowing that Carlos and TK were about to move in, and then Carlos made that romantic gesture and TK got scared because it was, "too good to be true."

Carlos is left, confused, puzzled and nursing a broken-heart but still just as in love. What do you mean that TK and Carlos saw a future together, one got scared at that prospect and left before Carlos was the one to leave??

What do you mean that happened after Oliver said he wanted Bucktommy to have a love story like Tarlos; where it was always going to be them?

Then you consider Oliver saying that we might see Tommy and Buck interact during a call and it'll be awkward and who can't help but think of TK and Carlos running into the furniture store and seeing each other for the first time in weeks.

Anyways, sorry to be delusional in your ask box. I'm deep within the Tarlos trenches so this is all starting to look eerily familiar lmao (it could also be Tim is out of ideas, which is most likely the case)

Please feel free to word vomit on me always, I live for it.

Receiving this ask has actually prompted me to share some thoughts that I’ve held back from sharing, just because I wasn’t sure if it was worth it to throw more speculation into the void. But this message is so lovely, and I agree with it so much and so… okay I will share some of my mixed bag of thoughts about this whole situation.

Firstly, I adore Tarlos and LS (even if I don’t post about either much), TK is my baby, and the interesting thing about them for me is that I wound up caring for them more AFTER they broke up and got back together. If Buck and Tommy’s story is formatted as a rom-com, TK and Carlos are a tragicomedy. TK, the heartbroken recovering addict thrust into an entirely new city, a new career, who doesn’t want to let himself get too close to something good because he is misery incarnate. Carlos, the hopeful hopeless romantic who sees TK and doesn’t see something that needs fixing, but someone who his love could help heal. It’s such a gorgeous story, and the symmetry of both characters shockingly losing a parent in a tragic way is painfully beautiful. I LOVE their love story.

That brings me to Oliver and Tim’s comments. Throughout the Buck and Tommy relationship, my belief that this would be Buck’s final relationship only ever wavered twice. The first time was in the immediate aftermath of their first date (I spent the whole episode thinking that Tommy was actually reintroduced to kick off the bi awakening plotline and Buck was not acquiring a boyfriend) and the second time was towards the tail end of the summer hiatus when I legitimately began to doubt Lou would want to come back given everything that transpired. Other than that, I had full faith that this was it, this was Buck getting off the “hamster wheel”—Tim’s words, not mine.

I had confidence for a few reasons. 1 – the story was always handled with care onscreen and gave us no reason to think they weren’t going to work out. 2 – the chemistry was insane, and I knew it couldn’t just be me because an entire fandom was born. Tim and tptb must have seen what we saw. 3 – the supplementary information funneled to us through articles and Tim’s social media, literally up until post-8x06 never seemed to indicate that their relationship was headed in this direction. A big part of that was the comparison to Tarlos.

In order to protect myself (should I name the list of shows, movies, couples that I’ve fixated on that wound up playing out in dissatisfying ways?), I am awfully pessimistic. The post-episode interviews, articles, + hearing a bit from LFJ and OS has me wondering if this was some mass hallucination. Did we truly cling to something good and blow it up, run with it? Was this always the plan? I’ve wondered if because S7 was so short and S8 required that other characters get the spotlight first/other stories needed to be told and wrapped, and if because of production and scheduling and whatever external reasons, did their relationship wind up having a longer life than was ever intended. Were they ever supposed to make it to six months? Were they ever supposed to make it past the fucking wedding? I have been asking myself this stuff a lot. Alternatively, did something happen that made them want to or have to part ways with LFJ? So many questions, and I’m not sure we’ll ever know.

But… then there’s the delusional side of me, and the reason I haven’t totally abandoned hope is because when I was watching 8x06 live, EVERYTHING in me told me that this is a necessary section of the rom-com formula. Even the call-backs throughout the episode made me feel like the writers are so painfully aware, and that the narrative wants these characters to be together (Miceli’s, Abby, basketball, going to the movies, calling an uber, the loft kitchen, “you’re not ready”)—the motifs were absolutely popping off. I did not think it was the end when the episode ended. I wondered when and how they would find their way back to each other to fulfill the rom-com genre, but what I did NOT expect was to open social media and see articles framing this as the end. I wasn’t surprised when I found out who wrote the articles, and listen—if they bait one side of the fandom, can’t they bait the other? I still have some hope, because at the end of the day, anything can happen with network television. Maybe this is all part of the plan, and the interviews should be taken with a grain of salt. I just don’t know.

Interviews with Tim and Oliver from day one positioned the Buck and Tommy relationship as a queer love story devoid of trauma. Okay, well… huh. From where I was sitting, there was A TON of explicitly queer trauma exposed in 8x06. Their “hurdle” is tied utterly and completely to queerness. Tommy runs because he is a gay man who doesn’t trust that his bisexual boyfriend should “settle” for him, and who would rather be alone than heartbroken, and if that truly is the last of Tommy, it has to be one of the coldest and cruelest exits we’ve ever seen on this show. Do they simply not realize how deeply traumatized both characters come off in that episode, or is it all part of the plan? If the interviews positioning this as the permanent end of bucktommy should be taken at face value, shouldn’t the other interviews that position them as a rom-com (with the formulaic third act breakup, boils and all) be taken as the truth as well? If there was some misinterpretation, why hasn’t Tim said anything—he clearly knows a lot of fans were hurt by what they watched. He must have seen the outrage—why radio silence? Did we truly blow this out of proportion? Are the wheels coming off behind the scenes? I need a tell-all at this point lol

Thank you for the lovely ask, I’ve been sitting with these thoughts all week so this was a good excuse to finally articulate them. <3

#bucktommy #tevan #tarlos

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saltmalkin · 9 months ago

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hiatus til may

Hey everyone,

I’m going to be on hiatus until the end of April. This means that Patreon will be on hold and my store will be in maintenance mode starting at the end of February. All outstanding orders will be shipped when I get the required merch to ship them (still waiting on a pin restock to arrive). After I get the current Patreon content done and shipped, I probably won’t post much art or be too active during this time and any work I am doing will be for outstanding projects.

I’ve been beyond burnt out since the start of the pandemic, correlating with my college graduation and my start as a freelance artist. The expectations I put on myself to succeed during this time were unreasonably high and my fear of failure during COVID was intense. I made it through at the cost of developing an extremely unhealthy attitude towards work and art.

I haven’t talked much about this on any of my socials since I don’t want to be a huge downer but all of this has been affecting my mental health pretty severely. The only break I really allowed myself to take during COVID was when I was forced out of working for a few weeks while recovering from GRS, and even then I was working two weeks later and up and dealing at a convention a month and a half later. I have a second round of GRS coming up in April that I need to mentally prepare for and I was dreading that being my only real break for the past few years. After an amount of convincing, I decided to just take the entire stretch of time off between now and the end of April since the alternative is me stressing myself to death trying to wrap everything up in March.

All of this is to say that I still deeply want to love art. It’s one of my longest standing interests and I attribute a lot of who I am as a person to my art and my ability to express myself. It hurts that my level of burnout has gotten to the point where I can't even engage with art without feeling intense anxiety. I’m hoping that after taking this break I’ll at least be able to shake off the worst of it.

I’m truthfully a bit terrified of taking a break this long as I’ve never really done it before. Thank you all for the support over the past few years – it means the world to me. Seeing all the positive feedback that gets left on my work is one of the big things that kept me afloat. I’ll see you all in a few months.

#text

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storiesforallfandoms · 2 months ago

Text

icdiwabh ~ joseph quinn

word count: 3688

request?: no

description: after finding out that her recently broken up with ex is already in a new relationship, she puts on a happy face for the public. but she can't do the same with him

pairing: joseph quinn x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty angst, rpf, use of y/n

based on this song

masterlist (one, two, three)

To give her credit, my best friend and guitarist, Chloe, tried her best to keep me from looking at my phone before our show. And it was working. I didn't even think anything of it, just that we were goofing off before a show as usual.

And then my phone chimed with a text from my mom. She always sent me a good luck text before a show. I unlocked my phone to respond, then saw that my social media notifications were blowing up more than usual.

I shouldn't have looked, but you know what they say about curiosity and the cat.

I opened Twitter to see I was being mentioned a lot. Mainly in replies to other tweets, and most of the tweets were along the lines of, "What happened to @(Y/U/N)?" I clicked on one to see what that context was, and was brought to a tweet from Pop Crave.

"Joseph Quinn photographed on a date with Doja Cat," followed by various photos of my ex-boyfriend getting cozy with another woman.

I felt my heart drop and break into millions of pieces.

I know what you're thinking: why would seeing my ex moving on hurt so much? It's not like we were together. We were both free to see whoever we wanted now. But there were a few reasons this news was upsetting; for one, we had only broken up three months ago, which apparently is around the time when these pictures were taken. Second, Joseph had broken up with me due to the fact that I was a singer, which meant we didn't get to spend as much time together as either of us would've wanted. I understood at the time. I mean, of course the break up still hurt, but I kind of knew it was coming when things between us had felt different the last month or so of our relationship.

Then there was the biggest reason: Doja was the woman he told me not to worry about.

I am not joking.

Joseph and I were together when the whole Doja versus Noah stuff happened online. We both laughed about it at the time, and i had jokingly asked Joseph, "Should I worry about you getting stolen away by Doja Cat?" He had wrapped me in his arms, kissed me, and said of course not.

Obviously, that had changed.

Chloe found me just as the tears started to fall. She was quick to hug me and whisper comforting words.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she said. "But we have to get to the stage."

Performing was the last thing on my mind, but I had thousands of fans waiting for me. I couldn't let them down just because I was heartbroken.

I followed Chloe to take my place. I wiped the tears from my eyes, hoping my face wasn't too red or puffy. Our backstage crew passed me my microphone as the countdown for the show to start started in my earpiece. I took a deep, calming breath, pushing everything out of my mind. As the blinding stage lights hit me, I put on my best show smile.

~~~~~~

The next few weeks were tough. I had to go on a full social media hiatus, meaning I deleted all social media apps from my phone to keep myself from seeing any more updates on Joseph and Doja. Chloe took up posting on my accounts so no one suspected anything. We had already decided the best course of action was to ignore the questions and comments, and to pretend like the news didn't even hurt me.

But it did. It hurt me more than any words could ever describe. Having to go on stage two to three nights a week and sing the love songs I wrote about him made it even harder. I struggled to keep it together on stage sometimes. I saved the emotions for when I'd get back to the hotel or the tour bus. Then I'd be able to cry until my eyes hurt and were too heavy to stay awake.

Some nights were sleepless, though. On those nights, I'd usually just lay awake or try to use one of the streaming services on my phone to distract myself. One night, I found myself too hungry to be distracted. My stomach was rumbling enough that I could hardly hear the show I was watching. After some quick Googling, I found a 24 hour diner that seemed like it would be slow enough for me to go without being recgonized.

I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a baggy hoodie with the hood up to cover my face. I put my phone and my hotel room key in my pocket, and left to make my way to the diner.

As I expected, there weren't many people there. Maybe one table with two young ladies sat there, plus the workers. I kept my hood up anyways as I ordered, just in case. The host who took my order did look at me like he may have known who I was, but he didn't say anything.

My plan was to get my food and take it back to the hotel to eat it. But that plan was quickly changed when a familiar British voice said, "(Y/N)?"

I froze. There was no way he was actually here. It had to be a figment of my imagination. A hallucination made up by my misery over the breakup and his quick moving on.

But when I looked up, there he was. He was also in a hoodie and sweatpants, but was doing less to hide his identity. Actually, nothing to hide his identity. I couldn't help but glance around to make sure no one was looking at us or there was no paparazzi that had followed him and started snapping photos.

"How did you know it was me?" I asked, then realized it was a stupid question and winced at myself.

"That's...um...my hoodie."

I looked down and realized that he was right. I hadn't even noticed that I had it, even when I packed it for the tour.

"I was wondering where it went," he said with a little smile.

"Here it is," I said, lamely flourishing my hands. "I'd offer to give it back, but I'm not wearing anything underneath."

I saw him swallow at my comment. I thought I saw a tinge of pink creeping onto his cheeks, but I figured it must've been the lighting or something. There was no way I could still make him blush when he obviously had no feelings for me anymore.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm in town shooting the Fantastic Four movie," he explained. "I just finished a late shoot, so I stopped in for something to eat. What are you doing here?"

"I had a show tonight. I couldn't sleep, and I'm hungry. So..." I did my lame flourish again.

"Oh yes. The post-show adrenaline."

I ground my teeth to keep from saying anything. The weeks of sadness and misery suddenly vanished and became anger. I was angry at him for reminding me that he knew me so well. That we had shared memories on sleepless nights like this. I was also angry that he didn't think our breakup and his quick moving on would be the cause of my sleeplessness. Did he think I didn't know? Or just that I'd be okay with him and his new girlfriend mere weeks after our two year long relationship ended?

I just shrugged in response.

My order was called and I quickly grabbed it. I turned to give Joseph a wave as a goodbye. I needed to get out of there and get back to my hotel room to wallow in my dispair.

But it seemed Joseph had other plans, as he stopped me before I could leave. "Do you want to sit? Maybe...catch up?"

"Is that a good idea?" I asked.

"I don't see why it wouldn't be."

"You don't want your new girlfriend to see paparazzi photos of you with your ex."

There, it was finally out. No more tiptoeing around the topic.

It seemed to have its desired effect as Joseph was now awkwardly shuffling. He rubbed the back of his neck, which was now undoubtably turning pink. "So, you've heard."

"Of course I heard!" I snapped. I glanced around again, realizing I was raising my voice. "Your pictures are everywhere, and I'm being tagged in them cause we never told everyone we had broken up."

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

I scoffed. "How else was I going to find out? Were you going to call me and tell me you were dating the girl you said wasn't a threat to our relationship?"

He sighed. Before he could say anything else, they called that another order was ready, and evidently it was his. It was also packed in a to go bag, so he clearly had no intentions of staying either. With any luck, he'd drop this stupid idea of sitting down for a "catch up" and let me leave to deal with all the emptions I was feeling.

But of course, luck was not on my side.

Joseph grabbed his food and turned back to me. "Just...sit with me for 15 minutes at least. Let me explain."

Even though I very much wanted an explanation, I said, "You don't have to explain anything."

"Just...please, (Y/N)."

And that's how I found myself sat in a booth that was tucked away, in the middle of the night with my ex-boyfriend.

It was a bad idea, and I knew that. Besides the fact that I definitely should not be sitting down with the ex that I had been in shambles over for weeks, it was also a bad idea publicity wise. Joseph wasn't trying to hide himself. Anyone could see us and snap a picture, or call paparazzi to make a quick buck. Even with me trying to hide myself, someone would eventually put the pieces together to realize it was me. Then we'd have a whole new shit show on our hands.

I opened my food and started to eat. There was no point in letting it go cold and completely ruin my night. Joseph wasn't as quick to do the same. He was watching me. When I realized he wasn't eating, I made a gesture for him to start talking.

"Is there anything specific you want to know?" he asked.

Well, that was a stupid question. There was a lot I wanted to know. So much so that I knew we'd be here way longer than 15 minutes if I asked it all.

I decided to ask him the most prominent question on my mind: "Did you leave me for her?"

He seemed stunned by my question. "No! No, of course I didn't. Why would you think that?"

I gave him a look. "Come on, Joseph. We both know why I'd think that."

He shuffled in his seat. "It's not like that."

"Then explain it. That's the whole reason I'm sat here."

So he did. He told me he met Doja (he used her real name, which made my stomach churn) at her concert. He had gone with a few friends, and when she found out he was there she brought them backstage to meet her. He swore it was all casual at first, that they were just friendly and were making light of the situation between her and Noah. When things started changing, he swore it was just a rebound thing.

"I never meant for it to become anything more," he insisted. "I was still so hurt. I just wanted something that would take my mind off of the pain."

I couldn't hold back the scoff that escaped my lips. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," I said. "I'm just so sorry to hear that you were hurting."

"What, you don't think our breakup was hard for me?"

"Weirdly enough, no, I didn't think you took things hard when you dumped me."

Joseph sighed. "It wasn't - "

"And you know what else?" I cut him off. "You told me you found it hard for us to be together because of our professions. And, honestly, I understood! If you weren't away filming, I was away touring. If you weren't doing press for a movie or show, I was doing press for an album. It wasn't easy, and while I was willing to go through those strifes for us, I did understand how it could be too difficult for you. But then you turned around, not even a month after you dumped me, and started dating another singer."

He was quiet. He couldn't even meet my eye.

I felt a lump forming in my throat, and my voice cracked as I said, "If you didn't love me anymore, you could've just said that."

He looked up at me quickly. "That's not - "

He was cut off again. Not by me this time, but by his phone. Someone was calling him. When I looked at the screen, I saw her name. It felt like a knife directly through my heart.

I packed my food and stood. Joseph looked like he was going to say something, but I put a hand up to stop him. "Answer your girlfriend, Joseph."

He didn't try to stop me when I left this time.

~~~~~~

As I expected, photos of Joseph and I got out. I didn't know to what extent as I still wasn't back on social media. My manager confronted me about it and I explained what had happened. She wasn't upset as I wasn't the one who hadn't been concealing my identity, and she agreed that the best course of action was just to ignore everything until it blew over.

Another two months passed and the tour finally ended. It became easier to perform as the time went on. Not completely easy, and I did have a night or two where I slipped up and got emotional on stage, but eventually I was able to put the meanings of my songs aside and just performed them for my fans. I knew some nights weren't as great as others, but I got through it, and finally I was going to have a break.

Chloe reluctantly agreed to let me have my social media back. I was still hurting a little, but I told her I couldn't isolate myself forever. It just wasn't healthy. Besides, I would need something to keep me occupied while I was home, besides just watching mind numbing reality TV. She finally relented when I told her she could watch me block the words "Joseph Quinn" and "Doja Cat" on all social media so that I wouldn't have to see any posts about them.

I was honestly surprised to find that I didn't want to look up anything to do with them. For a long time, the desire to know about their relationship was eating away at me. There were so many specifics I felt like I needed to know, but I eventually realized that I was just going to hurt myself further if I looked into them. Of course, I didn't completely stop thinking about Joseph. I didn't expect to. We had been together for two years, almost moved in with one another. I thought we were going to get married. You don't just let that go easily. But at least it was getting a little easier to live in a world where he was no longer mine.

On one particularly nice day, I decided to go out on the balcony to read. It was one of those fall days where the sun was out and there was a little heat coming from it, but not enough that it was unbearable. A slight breeze would blow through every so often, just cool enough to keep it tolerable outside. I was laid back in one of my deck chairs, engrossed in my book to a point that I hadn't heard someone approaching.

"Must be an interesting novel."

I jumped at the sound of a voice coming from my driveway below. I bookmarked my page and sat up to see the last person I wanted to be around. "What are you doing here, Joseph?"

"I just got back from filming."

"Good for you."

"I...I was hoping you were home."

"Well, you see that I am. Don't let the gate hit you on the way out."

"(Y/N), can we just talk?"

I stood from my seat and leaned over the balcony railing to look at him. "We said all there was to say in that diner months ago. There's nothing else to be talked about. Besides, do you want more pictures of us to come out? I'm sure Doja wouldn't be happy to see her man making a personal visit to his ex's place."

"We broke up!"

I stopped. "What?"

"Last month. It was all over social media, or so Lupita tells me." He tilted his head. "You didn't hear?"

"I-I blocked yours and Doja's names on social media so I wouldn't have to see any tweets or posts about you."

Joseph looked at me for a moment before barking out a laugh. I couldn't help but put a hand over my face as I laughed as well. Of course, by trying to block him out completely, I had totally missed the one thing I would've wanted to see.

I was a bit reluctant, but eventually I invited Joseph to come up. He knew his way through my place, he had been there enough times. I sat back down on my deck chair and pulled another one closer to me, as he appeared in the glass doorway. He sat down next to me and memories of all the times we had been out here flooded back to me.

"I wasn't done talking that night in the diner," he said. "I still had so much to say, and I have even more to say now."

"I didn't want to hear it," I admitted. "In my mind, after hearing how you and Doja got together, it just made more sense if you had broken up with me because you didn't love me anymore."

He shook his head. "It wasn't that at all. I never stopped loving you."

I was itching to ask him if that meant he still loved me now, but instead I said, "Then why?"

"I broke up with you because I loved you so much," he said. "Because loving you but not getting to spend time with you hurt so much, and I knew there was no way around that. When I started getting more job offers I knew things were just going to get so much busier for me, and that our already very short time together was going to dwindle down more and more, and I hated the thought of that."

"I would've taken a break," I told him.

"I couldn't ask you to do that. You love making music and performing. I could never ask you to stop doing that, or to change that. I thought the best thing for you would be if you could find someone who wasn't as busy, and who'd be able to go on tour with you and be at all your shows. Someone who wouldn't be in a different time zone basically 11 months out of a year and only be able to call you for an hour max every night."

"But what if that's not what I want?" I asked. "Yes, it was hard not to get to see you all the time, but I never would've traded that for anything else. I was so proud of you for all those roles you were getting, and even if I only got to talk to you for a few minutes, I loved getting to hear what you were doing. Because you were achieving your dream, and I got to be there to experience it. I don't want someone who can be with me all the time, I want you."

I hadn't noticed that we were both sat on the edge of our chairs. We were so close we were almost touching. I could smell the familiar scent of his cologne and it was making my heart skip a few beats.

"I should've talked to you instead of deciding just to end things," he said, his voice soft and quiet.

"You should've," I agreed. "And then if you were going to rebound, you shouldn't have done it with the girl you told me not to worry about."

He awkwardly chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, not my finest moment."

I sat back in my chair, although I didn't want to. I wanted to keep being this close to him, or maybe to get closer. "So why did you two breakup anyways?"

"She was nice and all, but she wasn't you."

We sat in silence, letting his words sink in. He was looking at me, almost like he was waiting. Maybe I was waiting, too, to see where that confession was supposed to go. After a few moments, my body moved before my mind could comprehend what was happening. I quickly leaned forward, nearly putting myself on Joseph's lap, and started kissing him. He kissed me back immediately, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me the rest of the way onto his lap.

"I missed you," he mumbled against my lips.

"I missed you too," I admitted. I pulled away to add, "But don't think you're completely off the hook. You did still hurt me, you know."

"I know I did. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for it if I have to."

I smiled. "I think I like the sound of that."

He smiled back at me and pulled me back in for another kiss. Eventually, my book was abandoned on the balcony, and the large blinds were closed to keep from anyone being able to see the reunion happening inside.

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine #one shot #rpf #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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iilmunchkiin · 2 months ago

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[PLEASE READ] I'm going on a hiatus

It's only been less than 3 months since I started posting art again, I was in a hiatus for 4 years because of personal reasons.

And unfortunately in those 3 months my art got reposted, recolored and traced.

In October 7, I was in college working on a project when it happened, someone told me my art got traced and the second I saw the notification my heart dropped. At this point I was aware of the reposts and the recolor of my art which happened just 9 days ago, but seeing that notification was a huge punch in the gut and I was just... heartbroken.

I'm not even mad I'm just sad all of this happened to me.

I was with my friends when I found out, I'll be forever grateful for them. Thank you for comforting me when I was an absolutely devastated wreck, I truly am.

As long as you ASK FIRST, you may:

Repost

Dub my comics

Draw in my artstyle/Have a similar artstyle as me

As long as you CREDIT ME, you may:

Use my art as a profile picture

Use my art in edits

Take inspiration from art (as long it's not heavily inspired I'm fine with it! ^^)

Comment my art in subreddits (you can still make memes with it, I love them <33 )

I DO NOT ALLOW:

Reposts w/o permission even with credit, I'm not strict with reposts just please let me know first,,, I don't bite,, (｡•́︿•̀｡)

Tracing. It's my worst fear, please don't..

Feeding my art to AI (ICK ICK ICK!!)

I don't know how long my hiatus will be, but I'm going to take the time to heal and process my feelings, I'm... really sensitive and vulnerable when it comes to things like this.

I'm not going to leave the UTY community nor do I plan to, I'm so happy to be a part of it and I love making art of the silly little characters living rent free in my head. I'll still work on my AUs, I just need some space is all. (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

Thank you for all the support you've given me, I'll cherish every single one of it, I'm not usually the type of person to make serious posts like this and it's unfortunate it happened but don't worry I'm optimistic about it! <3

Now if you excuse me I'm ganna sign off and blow up my manager's toilet 💕💕💕💕💕

#LM whispers

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inawickedlittletown · 20 days ago

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Oh boy. This is the last text post I write tonight. I swear. I just...I have a theory.

First off, Oliver Stark...what the hell is wrong with you? Those interviews...and the IG story he already deleted. eek.

And okay so people saying he wasn't happy with bucktommy and even with working with LFJ...maybe you were all right about that. But I think this is actually deeper.

I think something changed as late as this week.

We know that 8x06 was shot before 8x05 and every interview coming out after 8x04 about both 8x05 and 8x06 (yes the ones from Oliver) had some pro-bucktommy stuff in them. He was vague and he talked about how much he enjoyed those episodes. He said "if Buck and Tommy were ever on a break" and he talked about not knowing if Tommy was his forever partner or something...everything was there's hurdles and things for them to deal with and it just didn't imply break up or that things wouldn't be worked out...

So here's my theory now that I've had time to think about it.

I fully think the break up in 8x06 was written as temporary. I think we weren't going to see Tommy in 8x07 or 8x08 and we were going to be left wondering about Buck's decision on if he wanted Tommy back over the winter hiatus. And Oliver sort of says that too...that Buck will struggle with blocking his number or reaching out type of thing...so maybe we'll see that.

I think the decision was made...and maybe it came from the network...maybe it was the writers and Tim who knows but I think sometime between last episode and this one they decided to shift paths and not go forward with the bucktommy storyline...the romcom. This could even be as a result of the election. It's possible.

LFJ in his interviews comes off like he didn't expect it to end here. But if those interviews were already set before the decision came down then he had to do them and firmly close the door and explain his exit. It's what he was probably told to do. Doesn't change how odd it is for a non-main actor to do an exit interview. Has anyone else ever done one for a side-character?

As for Oliver...I find it very interesting how he went down the line of Buck is free to sleep around. Like it's such an interesting talking point. In no way am I condoning what he said or defending it, but it is a big switch from how he's talked about Buck being bi before...it feels a little like since bucktommy isn't happening Oliver is jumping at the only non-buddie thing for Buck to do. And as a straight white guy why wouldn't he say something like that without a second thought.

So yeah...I think they pulled the plug on bucktommy for one reason or another and that's why the interviews are like that. But narratively...they'll do some hand waving and make Buck decide he actually didn't love Tommy instead of following the threads they've left there.

#911 abc #911 discourse #bucktommy #oliver stark #lou ferrigno jr #spoilers #911 spoilers

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shellbilee · 6 months ago

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Hey There Darlin' - Chapter 5

A Glen Powell RPF Series

Apologies for the little hiatus guys. I'm hopeful that I'm back to regular posting, Glen's recent content influx has certainly helped with my inspo! Please comment if you'd like to be tagged! x

Billie

Billie hears a groan of effort and looks back at her phone sitting in the cradle on her dashboard. The metallic sound of dumbbells hitting the floor rings out and suddenly a face fills the screen, familiar brown eyes looking back at her.

“Alright I’m done with my set now, sorry”.

Billie laughs and shakes her head, looking away from the phone and back at her reflection in her rearview mirror.

“You’re the one that called me, Brad” Billie counters to her brother, smoothing back the baby hairs near her forehead into her slick ponytail.

Bradley, her brother had facetimed her ten minutes ago, Billie having since pulled into a car park at the address Glen had sent her this morning.

“Yeah, cos’ I feel like we haven’t spoken in ages and I miss my little sis’” Bradley says with a smile before taking a quick sip from his water bottle, “Besides, who else am I gonna speak to at this time? You’re the only one I know that would be awake”.

“Speaking of, why are you doing a workout at----” she pauses, lifting her wrist to check her watch, “Three AM?”.

Bradley shrugs nonchalantly, as if going to the gym in the early hours of the morning is the most normal thing in the world.

“Just came off a week of night shift. First day sleep routine is always kinda fucked. Couldn’t sleep, so figured I’d come and do a workout rather than wake Jords and the kids”.

“Have you tried reading a book?”.

Bradley pulls a face and Billie can’t help but laugh at it.

“Oh yeah sorry, I forgot you’re allergic to reading” she teases, knowing her fire-fighter brother hated every single second of school and study and she, the book smart one in the family, was the complete opposite.

Bradley rolls his eyes and wipes his face with a sweat towel. “Where are you off to anyway? Gym?”.

Billie looks back at her reflection again - she’s wearing activewear again, this time a pair of tight latte coloured shorts and a white racer back tank whose neckline makes her shoulders look toned.

“I don’t know actually. It’s a date” she says with a soft laugh, looking back down at the facetime call.

Bradley snorts. “A date? Dressed like that?”.

This time it’s Billie’s turn to pull a face.

“He said to wear something I don’t mind sweating in, and to bring a change of clothes”.

Billie swears she can see Bradley’s face morph into older-brother protective mode.

“Don’t mind sweating in? Who is this guy?”.

Billie only smiles. “Just a guy I met at Rufus the other day”.

She stays tight-lipped with the rest of the details - namely, that the guy also happens to be a Hollywood celebrity and is so gorgeous that just looking at him makes her want to melt into a puddle on the floor. Though she and Bradley were close and told each other almost everything, she decided to stay vague about her date.

Right now, she’s happy being in her exciting first-few-dates bubble. And she isn't ready for it to burst by involving other people. She would tell Bradley later, maybe.

Bradley starts to ask another question when Billie looks down at her watch, looking back at her phone and interrupting her brother to say she needs to go.

“I’m gonna be late ok? I’ll talk to you later in the week?”

Brad nods, “Yeah yeah, you better. Be safe ok?”

“I always am, Brad. Give my love to Jords and the kids yeah?

“I will. Love you Bil”

“Love you too”.

The call abruptly ends and Billie lets out a deep breath, suddenly aware that her heart is hammering in her chest. She’s nervous, nervous to see Glen again even though she’d seen him less than twenty-four hours ago, though admittedly the last time she’d seen him she’d kissed him without warning.

She can still feel his lips on hers, their plush softness moving against hers in a gentle dance, his scent in her nose, his fingertips on her skin. She’d struggled to think of little else during her bosses housewarming barbecue last night, flashbacks of their kiss invading her every thought as she’d mingled with her work friends.

Billie realizes she’s closed her eyes, opening them a moment later and letting out a breath as she looks out the window at the busy LA street in front of her. She double checks the address on her in-dash car GPS confirming she’s at the right place, before taking a final look at her reflection, grabbing her bag and stepping out of the car.

It’s a sunny Sunday morning in LA, the sunshine instantly blinding as Billie closes her car door behind her, reaching up to shield her eyes and looking at the modern brick building in front of her.

Oh my god.

It’s the Alo gym.

God, it’s a workout date.

Billie can’t help the breath that escapes her throat then.

Glen really did take her advice about unconventional dates seriously.

Fuck.

Billie sucks in a nervous breath and reaches up to smooth down her hair, making her way towards the entrance and doing her best to ignore the mass of butterflies that have suddenly started flapping wildly in her stomach. She knows it’s nerves, but part of her also knows it’s excitement at the thought of seeing Glen again.

She gulps silently.

Here we go.

Glen

Glen’s sitting in the entrance area of the Alo Wellness club, relaxing into one of the sleek, cream coloured lounges. His right leg is bouncing like he needs to go to the bathroom, but he knows it has nothing to do with his bladder.

He looks down at his phone in his hand for what feels like the tenth time in a minute, looking at the numbers above his screensaver of Brisket.

10.02am.

Glen knows he’s nervous, but he doesn’t know why. He’d been on hundreds of dates in the past but for whatever reason this one feels different.

They’d spent most of yesterday together, talking and laughing for what felt like hours, they’d even kissed yesterday - albeit unconventionally, but still. His stomach is a tangle of nervous thoughts and feelings, and all of a sudden he can’t help but second guess his date idea.

Billie had said unconventional, but was this taking it too far? Especially so soon?

He’d come up with the idea almost instantly yesterday, calling Keith, his Alo trainer as he’d driven home from his Ikea trip with Billie. Some part of him had decided that a personal training session for the two of them would be a great second date idea, given he and Billie had bonded over their frequent exercise and gym habits.

It ticked all the boxes - it would be an activity she told him she enjoyed, one they both regularly participated in, and it was certainly not a traditional date choice.

It was the kind of activity that he would never even attempt with a lot of girls, let alone on a second date, but with Billie? It seemed like the perfect choice. At least it had when he’d come up with it yesterday.

Glen shakes his head as if he’s arguing with the voice inside his head, ignoring his thoughts and standing firm on his decision. He exhales through pursed lips and flips his phone over in his hand again, looking up when he hears the entrance door open.

In an instant, all of his fears and concerns are gone.

Billie looks every bit as gorgeous as he remembers, even better if that were possible, his eyes running over her as he watches her ask for directions at the front desk. There’s a smile on his face before he can even think about it, standing up from the lounge just as the receptionist points in his direction.

He feels the breath catch in his throat when Billie’s eyes meet his, and suddenly there’s a smile on her face too - a smile that makes every single muscle in his chest contract.

Glen stays put as she makes her way over to him, unable to help his gaze from following the sway of her hips. She's wearing a pair of light brown coloured shorts and a tight white tank top, both accentuating her fit figure and making her golden skin glow.

Glen’s fingers tighten around his phone and he fights the urge to bite his fist and audibly groan, suddenly wondering how on earth he's going to get through this date without dying when she looks like that.

“Hey darlin’”.

Billie grins gorgeously. “Hey you”.

Glen steps forward to kiss her cheek just as she does the same, the turn of her head making his lips land dangerously close to her mouth. He sees her cheeks immediately flush as they step apart, and Glen fights the urge to groan out loud again for the second time in thirty seconds.

Fuck.

If they hadn't been somewhere so public he'd have tipped her chin and pulled her in for a bruising kiss.

Glen swallows and reaches down to pick up his gym bag, grinning down at Billie.

“So, what do you think?”

Billie tilts her head and smiles, “I see you really were listening when I said unconventional dates”.

Glen laughs. “Told you”.

“So what are we doing?” Billie asks as Glen gestures for her to follow him, heading over to the elevators at the back of the room.

Glen shrugs and presses the ‘up’ button on the wall, looking up when the elevator immediately dings. “You'll find out in a second”.

Billie laughs and flashes a worried smile. “I’m actually kind of terrified”.

He returns her laugh as the doors open and they step into the modern elevator, Glen stepping forward to press the button for level seven.

“You’ll be fine, I promise”.

The doors close and a moment later they’re going up, Glen struggling to ignore the less than three inches of space between them. That, and the sweet, spicy peach scent of her perfume that’s once again filled his nose, the one that’s plagued his brain since their kiss yesterday, the one that seems to be permanently burnt into his every waking thought for the past twenty-four hours.

God.

A moment later the elevator dings again and the doors open almost as quickly as they closed, revealing the sprawling, modern black and white gym floor of level seven.

They step out and Glen smiles when he sees Billie look around in awe, spying Keith up ahead standing and talking to Mike, one of the club’s other trainers. Glen nods when Keith sees him, leading Billie over towards him to introduce her.

“Hey bud” Keith says, pulling Glen in for a handshake hug in that way that only men do, Glen stepping back and gesturing to Billie.

“Billie, this is my trainer Keith. Keith, this is Billie”.

They shake hands and Billie smiles, Glen momentarily caught up in how beautiful he thinks she is for the tenth time in only ten minutes.

“Glen’s told me a bit about you. You’re a physical therapist?”

“Yep! I work at Evolution Sports Rehab, on Olympic Boulevard?”

Keith nods, “Ah I know the one. I’ve sent some clients there before actually, to see Ross?”

Billie nods enthusiastically, “Yes! He’s my boss. He’s incredible. He’s a big part of the reason I’ve worked there for so long”.

Glen watches Keith and Billie chat, impressed at the way Billie so effortlessly converses with new people. He smiles to himself as he looks down at her.

No wonder she’s such a good physical therapist.

Glen takes Billie’s bag off her shoulder and puts their bags aside, returning to stand with her and Keith holding two water bottles in his hands.

“So, what fresh torture have you got for us today?”

Keith laughs and Billie looks mildly terrified, Glen putting his arm around Billie and offering a reassuring squeeze.

“You did say you wanted a bit of a challenge” Keith says pointing at Glen, Billie dropping her head back in dismay, “And you did say that Billie was basically an athlete”.

Billie’s head snaps back up and she looks at Glen in alarm, “An athlete? On what planet?”.

Keith drops his head back and laughs, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding” he says holding his hands up in surrender, “But he did say you work out quite a bit, so I’ve put together a team challenge for you both”.

Keith turns to make his way over to the squat rack, motioning for Billie and Glen to follow. As soon as his back is turned, Billie punches Glen’s arm playfully.

“You have definitely talked me up way too much”

Glen grins as he looks down at her, winking mischievously. “No such thing darlin’”.

Billie grins and rolls her eyes adorably, Glen taking her hand and pulling her until they’re both standing in front of Keith again.

“So, we’re going to do a bit of a circuit challenge. It will be a mix of strength and cardio, but you’ll need to work together to get through it” Keith says, pointing at various equipment around the room. “There will be ten stations, and at each one there will be a rep target which you can divide up between you, so you can sub in and out as you need”.

Glen reaches up to stretch his arms above his head, the corner of his mouth tugging into a sly grin as he looks over at Billie’s wide eyes.

“For example, battle ropes. There will be four hundred reps. Billie you could do one hundred, then Glen does a hundred, and repeat until you get to four hundred. Ideally, the goal is to do the entire circuit in under fifty minutes”.

Billie exhales loudly. “Have you done this exact circuit with people before?”

Keith nods. “The record is forty-six minutes”.

Glen bends his left leg behind him, holding his ankle so he’s stretching out his thigh, glancing down at Billie and back to Keith. He scoffs out loud.

“Forty-six minutes? Easy”.

The look of alarm is back on Billie’s face, though this time she’s looking at Glen like he’s insane.

Glen can’t help but chuckle at her expression.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

He grins down at her, loving the way she smiles back at him.

“You said unconventional, remember?”

Billie shakes her head. “I think I’m starting to regret saying that”.

Glen laughs, and they both turn back to Keith.

“So, the key is to know your strengths, and what exercises you’re good or not so good at”.

Billie looks up at Glen, tilting her head playfully.

“Surely there are no exercise that you’re not good at”.

Glen opens his mouth to speak but Keith beats him to it. “Maybe ask that again when we get to the core exercises”.

Glen pulls a face and both Billie and Keith laugh.

“Alright then” Keith announces, clapping his hands together and looking back at Glen and Billie. “We ready?”

---

Forty-five and a half minutes later, Glen and Billie collapse on the floor on their backs, panting and breathless, and covered in sweat.

Glen feels like his chest is going to explode.

He knows it has nothing to do with the workout he’s just done that has his heart rate hammering at marathon race levels, and everything to do with the stunning, sweaty, sexy girl lying panting next to him right now.

Doing that workout with her was like forty-five and a half minutes of foreplay. He’d never been so simultaneously impressed and turned on in his life.

Watching Billie move and jump and squat and press had Glen thinking all kinds of things, things he definitely shouldn’t have been thinking while doing a workout in the gym. He couldn’t help but stare as he did his own exercises, frequently losing count of his own reps, his eyes dragging over her back, her legs, her ass. He was totally enamoured by her, by how strong and fucking sexy she looked, even now as she lay on her back, her chest heaving, breathless from the finishing the fifty burpees they were both determined to get done before the timer ticked over to forty-six minutes.

Glen turns to look over at Billie, his eyes running over her face, her lips parted as she sucks in breaths, her cheeks flushed and covered by a glowy sheen of sweat. He swears she’s never looked more sexy than she has in that moment, and all of a sudden he can’t help but imagine what she'd look like after another kind of cardio that has nothing to do with the gym.

And nothing to do with clothes.

“That” Billie pauses, sucking in a breath and exhaling loudly, “Was not the way I thought my Sunday would go”

“Probably not the way you thought this date was going to go either” Glen retorts, watching as Billie finally turns to look at him beside her.

She grins at him, that same gorgeous, breathtaking grin, her beautiful eyes sparkling, and it takes everything Glen has not to roll over and kiss her right there in the middle of the gym.

“You guys killed it. Broke the record and everything” Keith says suddenly, standing over the two of them and clapping his hands. “Glen, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you work that hard before. But I guess you had some extra motivation this time”

Glen chuckles and Billie laughs, but it sounds strained through their panting breaths.

“And Billie, that was pretty incredible. You smashed it out of the park, awesome stuff”

“Thanks Keith” Billie breathes, still panting, offering a weak thumbs up before dropping her hand back down to the ground dramatically.

Keith laughs. “You’re welcome”.

They talk for a few more minutes before Keith announces that he has to run to see another client, Keith bending down to shake both of their hands before waving and walking out of the gym.

Billie sits up and leans back on her hands, her legs still outstretched in front of her. Glen is still lying on his back beside her, dabbing his face with his sweat towel.

“Glen, that was fucked”

Glen tips his head back and laughs, dropping the towel back to the floor. “But you killed it”.

“I think it killed me” Billie replies exasperated, dropping head back and looking up at the ceiling, “I am going to be so sore tomorrow”.

Glen chuckles and moves to sit up from the floor, his sweaty skin sticking to the floor beneath him.

“I really need a shower”.

“That makes two of us” Billie laughs, “But I don’t think I can stand up”.

Glen laughs, letting out a groan of effort as he hauls himself upright and stands. He reaches down for Billie’s hand and pulls her up, unable to stop his eyes from flickering to boobs in the tight white tank she’s wearing.

God.

“I also need food” Billie announces, taking a long sip from her water bottle and smoothing back her sweaty hair, “I’m suddenly starving”.

Glen nods in agreement.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a bite after this?” he asks, eyes searching her face as he looks down at her, “If you still have the day free of course”.

Billie’s lips part into a smile, and Glen can’t help the way his own smile grows.

“My day is totally empty”

“Oh really?” Glen inquires, one eyebrow raised, “Does that mean I can steal you for dinner too?”.

Billie laughs, shrugging her shoulders adorably, “If you don’t get sick of me before then, sure”.

Glen shakes his head and reaches out to touch Billie’s arm, flashing her his most charming grin and loving the way she looks back at him in that moment.

“I’m not sure that's actually possible Billie”.

Billie smiles, and Glen can’t tell if her cheeks flushing is from their workout or from his comment.

They walk over to their bags, Glen bending and handing Billie hers before bending to pick up his own.

“Did you want to shower here? Or head home and meet up again?”

Billie shakes her head and holds out her hand, “I brought a change of clothes like you said, I’m happy to shower here. But it’s up to you?”

“No no, here’s good” Glen says, dabbing at his face again with his towel, “You should see the bathrooms here. They're pretty fuckin’ amazing”.

They walk towards the elevator and step in when the doors open, Billie’s perfume filling his nose as she brushes past. Glen presses the button for level 12, the two standing in comfortable silence as the doors close and they move up the building.

The elevator dings and the doors open up to the reveal the luxury spa, shower and sauna level, Glen letting Billie step out in front of him.

“The female bathrooms are that way” Glen says, reaching up to run a hand through his sweaty hair, “I’ll meet you back out here?”

Billie nods, looking over in the direction of the bathrooms and back up at Glen with a soft smile.

“See you in a bit”.

---

Billie

This shower is better than the one at Billie’s house. No actually, it's the best shower she's ever used. At the gym of all places.

It's all dark moody tile and black furnishings, the rainfall shower head providing the most amazing water pressure on her already aching muscles. Not to mention the luxury skin care products that are just free to use.

She’s in shower heaven.

Or she would be, if Glen was in there with her.

Billie tips her head back and lets the warm water cascade over her, unable to think of little else except Glen.

The way his muscles had rippled beneath his skin as he’d pulled himself up on the chin up bar, the way his biceps had flexed and moved as he’d picked up each dumbbell. Billie had barely been able to concentrate on her own exercises, not when Glen was looking like that, and certainly not when he was looking at her the way he had been. It was like he wanted to devour her - and if they hadn't been in public, she probably would have let him.

Right there in the middle of the gym floor.

Their workout has left her feeling all wound up in more ways than one, like forty five minutes of insane heated foreplay without a finish line. If she were at home, she’d probably play with herself.

She thinks about Glen in the shower, thinking about how badly she wants to have him pressed up naked against her, to feel his thick arms around her frame, his lips on her skin.

Fuck.

What was this man doing to her?

Forty eight hours of knowing the guy and she's already desperate for him.

She wonders idly if he’s thinking about her the same way she is right now, suddenly remembering that he’s probably waiting for her outside and that she should get on with it. She exhales heavily through her nose and rinses the last of the soap suds from her skin, letting herself enjoy the shower for thirty more seconds before she turns off the tap.

Billie steps out of the shower and dries herself with the fluffiest white towel she’s ever used, changing into a pair of light blue mom jeans and a loose white button up shirt. She looks back at her reflection in the giant mirror of the luxury bathroom, tucking the front of her shirt loosely into the waist of her jeans and buttoning it just enough that it teases just a hint of cleavage.

She reapplies her makeup keeping it glowy and natural, using the gym’s very expensive hair dryer and blow waving her hair just enough that it’s tameable. She pulls her hair back into a loose braid leaving out a few face framing pieces, spritzing her favourite peachy perfume onto her neck and wrists. She steps back and looks over her reflection once more, deciding she’s happy with her look, packing up her things and walking out of the bathroom.

Billie does a double take when she walks out to find Glen sitting waiting for her on one of the cream leather lounges near the elevator, looking somehow even more handsome than he had earlier.

He’s now dressed in a cream henley shirt and brown trousers, a pair of brown leather boots on his feet. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough that she can see the beginnings of his dark chest hair, his hair still damp from the shower and falling messily but somehow still perfectly.

As if he wasn’t handsome enough just looking like that, Billie feels her breath catch when he looks up and sees her, his lips parting in an utterly gorgeous smile.

Billie tries not to notice the way her body feels as his eyes run over every inch of her, following her hips as she walks towards him.

“You look gorgeous”.

Billie smiles. “See, I was just thinking that about you”.

Glen laughs and stands up in front of her, pressing the button for the elevator and holding open the door for her as they walk in.

“Were you feeling anything particular for lunch?” he says looking down at her, Billie standing close enough to smell his delicious aftershave and fighting the urge to reply with ‘Besides you?’.

“I’m not fussy”.

Glen nods. “Good, I know just the place”.

---

Glen

“Were you really?” Billie asks, shaking her head in exasperation, “No way, I’ve seen that movie a thousand times, I’d have recognised you”

Glen laughs and nods his head, putting his hand on his heart to emphasize that he’s telling the truth, “I swear I am. I’m in the stock exchange scene”.

Billie’s brow furrows, like she’s replaying the scene in her head, and Glen chuckles when she reaches into her purse and pulls out her phone.

“No way. I have to look this up”.

They’d just had lunch - they’d gotten sandwiches at one of Glen’s favourite spots near the Santa Monica beach. It was a little hole in the wall place with an outdoor courtyard type area at the back, and best of all, it wasn’t too well known about. On this sunny Sunday afternoon, it was the perfect choice.

He and Billie are sitting side by side in a wooden booth together, having just finished their food. They’d been there nearly three hours now, the conversation and laughs between them flowing effortlessly. It’s only been two days, and yet somehow Glen feels like he’s known Billie for months.

They’d been talking about music choices when they exercised, Billie revealing that she actually liked to listen to movie scores when she ran - namely, superhero movie scores, saying that they made her feel motivated and pumped to keep going. That had brought them to talking about The Dark Knight Rises, at which point Glen had laughed and told her that he was actually in that movie.

He keeps his eyes on her face as she types on her phone, looking over her glowy skin and dark lashes, her full lips that make him want to kiss her for hours.

He hears the beginnings of a video play, the familiar menacing voice of Tom Hardy’s Bane character, watching as Billie’s eyes suddenly light up, her mouth dropping open in surprise.

“Oh my God it is you!” she exclaims adorably, looking up at Glen and then back at her screen still in disbelief, “How have I not noticed that before? How old are you there? You look like a baby”.

Glen laughs and takes a sip of his soda bottle, tapping his fingers against the plastic.

“Twenty-something---, twenty-four, I think?” he says just as he hears Bane smash his character’s head into a computer.

“You know, I actually got a real concussion during that take. Tom got a bit too into his character and instead of just tapping me on the head like he was supposed to, he actually slammed my head down. Had to go see a medic and everything”

Billie’s eyes widen in shock for the second time, a soft laugh of surprise slipping from her lips. “Oh my god, really?”.

He nods and they both laugh, Glen looking over Billie as she shifts in her seat to better face him.

The afternoon sun is warm and Glen has since shed his jacket, his gaze hidden behind his sleek sunglasses. He takes advantage of that fact, savouring every moment of his eyes on Billie’s available skin, the edge of a pale blue bra peeking out from the dip of her shirt from this new angle.

He tries not to notice the way one of her denim covered thighs is now pressed against his, or the way one side of her white shirt has slipped down to expose her golden collarbone. He finds his imagination wondering what her skin would taste like on his tongue, how it would feel beneath his lips if he kissed along it.

Billie lifts her hand to look down at her watch and back up at Glen.

“You need to go?”.

“No no, just thinking about Nugget”.

“If you want to go home and check on him it’s okay Billie”

“I want to” she says, her voice trailing off into a pause, “But, I also don’t want to leave”.

Glen smiles back at her, his eyes crinkling behind his sunglasses.

“Well, how about this then?” he asks, reaching up to run his fingers through his now dry hair, “You go home and grab Nugget, and then the two of you come to mine a little later for dinner?”

Billie tilts her head as looks at him, the corner of her mouth tugging into a smile, “Oh that is incredibly tempting”.

He grins and leans in towards her, loving the way her gorgeous hazel eyes are looking back at him.

“Anything I can do to make it even more so?”

Billie ponders for a moment, her eyes still on his, her tongue sliding out to wet her pink lips.

“Well, for starters, keep smiling at me like that” Billie says, leaning her elbow on the table between them and resting her cheek on her hand, “Do you have any idea how handsome you are? Like, it's almost unfair how attractive you are”.

Glen chuckles softly, the sound rumbling in his throat.

“I’ve been thinking that same thought about you since the moment I met you at Rufus, Billie”.

“Oh really? You think I’m handsome?” Billie teases, a laugh bubbling up in her throat.

Glen only grins, reaching up to brush a loose hair from her face, swearing he sees her suck in a silent breath.

“Actually you know what” Billie breathes, her voice almost a whisper, “I think there is something you can do to tempt me more so”.

Glen raises a curious eyebrow, acutely aware of how close his face now is to hers.

“What’s that darlin?”

Billie exhales quietly, her perfect lips stretching into a soft, sexy smile.

“Kiss me”.

Glen needs no instruction after that.

He tilts Billie’s chin with his finger and angles her face to his, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to hers.

---

Next Chapter

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#glen powell #glen powell fanfic #glen powell fic #glen powell series #glen powell smut #glen powell x ofc #glen powell fluff

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storiesofsvu · 4 months ago

Text

All of us need to do better

y'all... this is hitting another bad streak. I'm seeing multiple friends/moots/other accounts either disappear from fandom/writing silently, or making posts about how they're either leaving, taking an indefinite hiatus or want nothing to do with writing anymore.

And I *completely* get where they're coming from. (and am losing motivation to write/post every single day).

interaction on posts is WAY down. and I don't mean notes. I mean reblogs and comments/a conversation going in the ask box and even requests. (which can happen ON ANON).

i get messages asking when the next ____ (insert character here) fic is and I have nothing for them because no one's sending in req's anymore either.

I have MULTIPLE people who have signed up for taglists (and recently and I know they're active blogs) who then don't interact with the fics theyve ASKED to be tagged in. You're literally holding a spot someone else might want, the very LEAST you could do would be to reblog things. (and i've seen their blogs, some of them don't reblog ANY other fics, they only have their own posted). this is just bad manners.

If you're a newer blog, let me let ya in on something.... reblogging and commenting and engaging with other people's fics is the easiest way to make friends on here, to become part of discord servers dedicated to fandoms where you can discuss headcanons, watch eps together, and spitball for your own fics and theirs.

it takes 2 seconds to reblog, and if you don't want to ruin the aesthetic of your blog, or don't want people to know it's you reading and enjoying fanfic, it takes 5 mins to make a secondary blog to do exactly that on.

ETA: i also see people complaining in the show tags that “no one writes for ______” anymore. Meanwhile they clearly havent done a good job searching as they havent seen my blog or any of the ones i reccommend.

anyways, i could go on forever. i guess i just woke up in a very lacking mood and wanted to get this off my chest because it's been bothering me a lot recently. Decadent Desires is almost wrapped and I have no motivation to even CHOOSE which series to start next because it seems like most of you do not care AT ALL. And yes i threw in random gifs to grab your attention but at least i'm going to tag this appropriately lol

#personal #fanfiction #writing #writer thoughts #fandom #fandom things #vent #rant #the bar is on the ground

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blossoms-phan · 3 months ago

Note

Hi! I am a X escapee relatively recent Dan & Phil returnee who loves your posts, you seem so reasonable. I have just been given what felt like a 90 min presentation detailing how my innocent assumption that Dan and Phil were anything other than platonic housemates was incorrect and offensive.

The lecture i was given included every reference that highlighted, amongst other things: their "obvious" separate bedrooms, bathrooms, towels, angles of items shown in bedrooms, closets, mentions of wanting to go out and meet other men, lack of real concern (X words, not mine) at each others medical emergencies and every use of bro and friend that they have said post hiatus. It was very detailed, they were very insistent and I was very apologetic. I decided to flee the X hostility and head back to tumblr, but here everyone appears to think they are together. So now I am confused and don't want to offend a whole new group of people.

I think what set the X people off was i said "partner" as I was under the, I now know, incorrect impression that they went public years ago. Oops. Don't trust the internet is what I have learned from this. I thought all this drama would have died out long ago, but I assume this is a topic to stay far away from still? Thanks

hi anon! first of all, thank you for saying that (still can’t believe I’ve garnered enough attention on here that people specifically like my posts!), I really appreciate it. second of all imma be so real with you I am a person that still primarily refers to “X” as twitter bc I refuse to get with the times so this greatly confused me until I realized there was only one possible platform with those kind of people you could be talking about. i’m sorry you endured that exhausting sounding lecture and welcome you to phannie tumblr with open arms 🫶

i am here to gently reassure you that you can take what dnp say and do and show and form your own opinions about it, don’t let anyone tell you you’re right or wrong for drawing conclusions or making assumptions. however I will also be so bold and tell you why that individual is so blatantly wrong and maybe clear some of your confusion.

first of all, i think dnp would refer to themselves as anything but "platonic housemates." it all comes back to this but i dare someone to look me in the eyes and be so fr when saying that just because they've never stated in words "we're dating/boyfriends/partners etc" the simple fact that they share a mortgage on a "forever home" together, (according to them) spend literally all their time together, are partners in work/life/play (vacations), share families (dan being uncle to phil's niece) implies anything other than them being life partners. i'd also like to draw attention back to possibly the most blatantly open statement either of them has made about the nature of their relationship, in dan's video titled "basically i'm gay" where he describes them as "actual soulmates" and more. there are lots of people who have been discussing/answering posts about the concept of a "hard launch" recently which i could direct you to and i am of the mind that there's nothing wrong with conceptualizing the idea of a hard launch or them being more open to sharing details of their romantic relationship to an extent, but BIG is the most profound public statement of the nature of their relationship and, in my humble opinion, "the" hard launch as dan QUITE LITERALLY says "more than just romantic" and goes on to say he and phil are private people and that that's all he will say of it for now (keep in mind it's been 5 years since this statement- still relevant but minds can change, specifically theirs in terms of what they feel more comfortable and open sharing in a post-comeback world)

now moving on to the "references" you mentioned. again, highlighting literally any of this as "proof" that they are just friends or whatever is utterly ridiculous but i'll still go through it for funsies. i'd like to challenge this person that claims they have "obvious" seperate bedrooms by saying... what is so obvious about it?? dnp are highly aware that whatever they share with us will be analyzed or viewed under a microscope, so obviously they've carefully chosen which parts of the phouse to show us and they're not going to be like oh yeah this is OUR bedroom where we sleep TOGETHER every night. now i'm aware that yes, the "black" bedroom with dan's closet is more obviously a dan room that has been claimed as "his" bedroom. can't find it to link rn but they have posted a photo of the shelf of that room and while it is mostly dan stuff on the shelves, there was also a photo of phil's family and some of phil's books and items on the shelves. storage? sure, but if someone wants to claim that makes it so obviously dan's room then i can say that having phil's stuff in there could also point to them sharing the space. the room that phil films amazingphil videos in has been called a guest room/bed by them both, and in terms of rooms we've seen that just leaves the green room. imho everything points towards this being another guest room/possibly a room for family specifically to stay when they come- iirc nothing has been said to claim this as phil's room other than the fact that there is a painting by his dad and he occasionally films in there. i'm not going to pretend to know the ins and outs of their sleeping arrangements, but i think for two adults that own a huge house together and spend a lot of time together and have a lot of their own things it's perfectly reasonable to have "separate" bedrooms, multiple bathrooms/their own towels (?? i don't get this one i assume they're referring to the part of the golden pig video but like. obviously they have their own towels wtf lmao) and utter those things more on camera and then sleep together/share spaces in their own time.

once again, dan and phil know what they're doing. they are in control of what they show and share. calling each other "bro" and "friend" is an intentional choice and very much second nature at this point after doing it on camera for years. also it's not wrong or implies that they aren't romantic- i am of the opinion that they are friends first and they know that too. however, in a post-hiatus/comeback world, it almost feels pointed at this point. like a joke. a wink wink, nudge nudge, look-to-camera "we know you know" thing that they're keeping going just because they can.

in terms of the "going out and meeting other men" bit i assume they refer to jokes made by dan in the wad era? again, i'm not going to dive deep into this but dan is a comedian and post-coming out, wad and those other shows were the first time in his life he was able to be openly, unapologetically gay and himself and i think he was allowed to make a few grindr jokes for the fun of it. if dan values privacy in terms of his personal life, i highly doubt he would go around telling everyone he was hooking up with dudes- these are jokes plain and simple. but if you're interested @freckliedan has a wonderful post about dnp and the concept of monogamy/them sleeping with other people that i don't entirely disagree with and that is worded much better than i ever could so. i'd also like to talk to this person bc in what fucking world have they EVER shown a "lack of concern" at each others medical emergencies????? this is possibly the most baffling claim out of all of these to me. dan could not have made it more clear how scared/worried/traumatized he was by phil literally almost dying recently, and there have been more instances than i can count of him just being there for phil during all of his more recent health issues/scares. if this is referring to the eye incident, again i'm not going to pretend i know all the ins and outs of their relationship bc i don't- we know what they tell us. literally everything about this they said in a joking way, i don't know why people got their panties in a bunch- phil sending dan alone doesn't mean he doesn't care about him or anything, i honestly don't think he wouldn't have been much help going and i think they both kind of knew this, they were just playing it up to be a funny anecdote because they're entertainers. it's what they do. they've been making stories out of their lives for 15 years.

this is getting far too long and rambley as i don't know how to rein in my yapping when responding to asks but. i promise you're fine. discussing their relationship isn't "drama" or some forbidden thing, it happens on here a lot actually. except you will find most people on here use critical thinking and what dan and phil knowingly share with us, as adults with brains, to draw conclusions about their relationship based on everything from the way they look at each other to the little ways they tell us they care about and love each other bc they do. and that's not something they shy from now. come join us! don't let people tell you you're wrong for thinking they're partners bc in the nicest way possible, they literally are (if you want to sugarcoat it and say life partners instead of romantic go ahead bc they've literally described themselves as companions through life which is a more poetic way of saying partners imo) and respectfully anyone who thinks otherwise is in denial at this point

#dnp #dan and phil #phan #asks #phan asks #answered #anon #my thots #blossoms.rambles #sorry this is so long and i genuinely don't know if my tone is a little hostile #i just don't understand people still claiming stuff like this lmao #i love getting and answering asks but i feel like i can never gather my thoughts concisely like others on here #with practice mayhaps #pls enable me to do something with my decade long hyperfixation and dnp brainspace in the form of yapping

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starsstuddedsky · 2 years ago

Text

Tangled in Love

vernon x reader

summary: there's nothing in the world that vernon loves more than cats. at least, that's what you think

genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, non-idol!au, uni au, f2L, idiots to lovers, fake dating if you squint, technically university au

warnings: none!

wc: 3.8k

a/n: started this a WHILE ago and finished it like a month ago but i wanted to let it sit lol,,, may or may not have been the other option for the poll i put out and then i may or may not have forgotten to post.... anyways i am working for literally the whole summer until school starts again so i can't promise i'll be writing a whole bunch </3 so basically: enjoy bc idk when anything else will come lol (not going on official hiatus though!! just like... limbo) pls pls feel free to drop in anytime and chat!! also requests are open but again,, i'll write when i write lol

tldr: adulting sucks, i love you all, none of this has to do with the actual story lol

Vernon’s car sits in your driveway. The sight of his little red sedan evokes a strong sense of familiarity, almost as if it’s yours. It’s survived high school and his first three years of college, up till now, though the engine sometimes shakes the car a little too much and the air conditioning chooses to work less often than you would prefer. Still, the one time Vernon mentioned getting a new car, you nearly cried, so you don’t let yourself complain too much.

He waits for you, keys in hand, as you tug on your shoes and sprint out the door with a shout of goodbye to your parents. Your shoes nearly slip off because you didn’t put them on all the way and they’re still untied when you make it to the front seat, slamming the door shut behind you and pulling on your seatbelt.

“You didn’t have to rush,” Vernon says, barely sparing a glance at you. You do a supreme job pretending it doesn’t bother you.

“Yeah, but my dad is watching hockey,” you say. Though it’s been years since Vernon has been to your house for a “play date,” you know the memory of your father yelling at the television as if the players can hear him isn’t one that Vernon (or anyone for that matter) can forget easily.

“You know if you move out, you don’t have to hear them,” he says, finally glancing at you before turning his head to watch the road as he backs down the driveway.

“If I move out, I also have to pay my bills on my own,” you say.

“You have three job offers and you haven’t even graduated yet,” Vernon says. “Of all our friends, you are the most financially stable, so don’t you dare try that argument on me.” This debate has been going on ever since Vernon announced he was moving out; two years in the dorms on campus proved more than enough for him.

You don’t understand why he’s so insistent about you moving out. Sure you complain about your parents occasionally but not enough to really matter, and he knows how grateful you are that they’ve let you stay in your childhood room and rarely let you pay for anything.

So why? You set your eyes on him, with his annoyingly perfect features that you’ve known most of your life. He studies the road, indifferent to your glare and undistracted.

That’s the Vernon you know: focused on the moment, and never noticing you. You know how pitiful you sound, pining for someone for so long who has never once spared you a second look. Still, before everything else, he’s your friend, your best friend. You won’t ruin that just because you caught feelings.

“Why are we going an hour away again?” You ask, resting your back against the cushioned seats and turning your head to the window to watch the scenery pass by. It’s easier to avoid thinking about those feelings when you aren’t staring at him.

“Because the people running the rescue needed a volunteer to pick up the kittens.”

“And why am I here?”

“So I don’t get kidnapped or murdered,” Vernon says nonchalantly.

“How am I going to prevent you from getting kidnapped or murdered?”

“Strength in numbers?” He takes his eyes off the road for half a second to flash a smile at you.

You rolled your eyes, plugging your phone into the aux. “You should have asked Jihoon. Between his gym obsession and unbridled rage, the nonexistent potential kidnappers-murderers would never stand a chance.”

“And he has good taste in music. Bump,” he says, bracing his arm in front of you as he hit a particularly large pothole. He drops his arm as soon as the car stops shaking and you ignore the urge to catch his hand in yours.

“He does not, and you better not be implying I have bad taste!” You dig through your playlists, trying to find the Vernon-approved one.

“I was implying but now I’ll outright say it.”

“His playlist is just Bruno Mars and Harry Styles and one random Ariana Grande song.” You hold up the shared playlist for good measure. Vernon ignores you, refusing to take his eyes off the road.

“Okay, not good taste, but better than yours.”

“What is wrong with my taste in music?”

“No comment.”

“How have we been friends this long?” You ask. You can’t quite say it with a straight face; the idea of not having Vernon in your life is an absurdity you can’t imagine.

“By the way, you need to give directions,” Vernon says. “I sent you the address last week.”

You shake your head but dig through the messages to find the address, putting Jihoon’s playlist on to prove your point. Vernon pretends not to care, singing along to “Leave the Door Open,” as if he didn’t make fun of Jihoon a week ago because he played the song on repeat during his four hour shift at the cafe.

When you’re being honest with yourself, you know you want more than riding in Vernon’s front seat and making pointless jokes. More than once, you’ve imagined what it’s like to go home with him and stay there, to wake up in his bed because you share it with him, instead of the times you drank too much and he slept on the couch (because of course Vernon is the type of person to give up his bed for his friend). Moments like that make it harder to remember that he doesn’t feel the same way.

You were doing a great job of paying attention until the second half hour, when you got stuck in standstill traffic. In your mind, only a few minutes pass, but suddenly Vernon shakes your shoulder and your heart shoots bolts of adrenaline into your veins to wake you up.

“We’re here,” he says softly. He holds your phone with the directions still open. The engine shakes the car; he must have literally just stopped. It takes a couple moments to remember that he drove you into the middle of nowhere to pick up some kittens to foster them (another bullet point in the ever growing list of why you love Vernon: he does absolutely insane things for what he loves. What would it be like to be the person he loves?). He stares at you for a moment and for some godforsaken reason, you think he’s going to kiss you.

He points to the corner of your lips. “You drooled.” He laughs at your groan, turning in his seat and cutting the engine, tossing your phone into your lap.

The door creaks when you pull on the handle but it swings open. You are extra careful when you swing it shut, being as gentle as possible. Vernon raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment on it. You stretch until your back finally pops, jogging to catch up with Vernon who didn’t wait for you, striding up the smooth driveway.

Warm pastel yellow greets you, a cute door that matches the array of flowers on the front porch perfectly. Vernon sneezes and presses the doorbell, stepping back to wait, shoulder pressing against yours. Even though his jean jacket and your cotton t-shirt separate you from really touching him, you feel a different sort of warm, a tingly feeling that spreads from your insides and makes you feel giddy.

After a couple minutes, the door opens, revealing a smiling woman and a child that can’t be more than five clinging to her leg. “You must be the fosters! Sorry, it’s a little hectic today, but come on in!” She ushers you in, picking up the child.

Some psychopath. You glance at Vernon but he turns his back on you, following the woman down the hall to a closed door. Whatever, it’s not like he needs to see you to know the jokes you make.

“We’ve been keeping them away from the rest of the house since it gets so chaotic,” she says. “I’d love to keep them but we’ve got two toddlers and a hyperactive dog.” She sounds genuinely regretful, which you understand as soon as you step over the baby gate and into the room. It looks like it was a spare bedroom (you can’t help but think it’s for the children when they get too big to share a room), but the bed has been stripped and there isn’t any other furniture. In the middle of the room, in a nest of blankets, a grown cat sits and licks tiny balls of fur that mewl softly in protest. The black cat pauses in her grooming, studying you and Vernon while the woman and her child watch from the door.

“Do you want to tell the lovely couple what we named them?” She asks the child.

You freeze. Did she just call you a couple? “We’re not–” Vernon stops you with a hand on your arm, sitting cross legged on the ground and facing the woman and her child.

“The momma is Pinky,” the child mumbles, barely audible. “‘Cause she has really pink feet.”

You smile at her, though you’re still reeling from Vernon’s hand, which slips from your arm to interlace his fingers with yours. “Did you name her?”

The child grins. “Yeah! But my brother named the babies.” She pouts.

“I think Pinky is a great name,” you say. Vernon grunts in agreement. Pinky stands and wanders slowly toward Vernon’s hand (the one not holding yours), which he holds outstretched while looking away. Looking at you. You get to see the exact moment Pinky brushes her head against his fingers, watch the corners of his mouth creep up in satisfaction, watch his eyes slip away from yours as he strokes her head. She lets off a low rumble as she purrs, brushing her whole body against his foot before leaving him to study you.

You’ve never thought of yourself as a cat-person or a dog-person (you love them all the same), but a life-time as Vernon’s best friend (and an abundance of cat cafes) have trained you in how to get cat’s to befriend you. You let Pinky move however she wants, hyper aware of Vernon’s hand squeezing yours once before letting go.

He shifts to look at the kittens, earning a wary glance from Pinky. She watches him for a moment before turning back to you, brushing against your hand and eventually turning her back on you, purring like the engine of Vernon’s car the entire time.

“What’s this one called?” Vernon asks, pointing to the orange colored kitten.

“That’s Muffin, Momma named her,” the child explains. She stands at the baby gate alone, her mother off somewhere getting all of their supplies so that you and Vernon can leave with them. Her little fingers curl around the metal. “The black one is Fried and the white one is Egg. That’s what my brother named them.”

Vernon nods, smiling over the tiny kittens. Pinky finally decides she doesn’t want him quite so close, leaving your side to place herself between him and the kittens. He laughs, sliding back to sit next to you.

“There’s no way you don’t end up adopting at least one of them,” you whisper.

“I have self-control.”

“Wanna bet?”

Vernon turns to look at you except he’s much too close, nose just barely brushing against yours. It takes all of your willpower not to glance at his lips, infinitely harder when you realize you can feel his breath on your lips. Would he kiss you back? You push that fantasy away immediately: it’s Vernon. He’d push you away and call you weird, or do that judgy-eyebrow-wiggle-thing that he reserves only for special occasions (most recently used when Soonyoung was talking about a hookup gone wrong). You’ve always been the one he looks at when someone does something weird; what would he do if it was you being weird? Your stomach turns, the butterflies eating each other alive. You can’t do that to him, no matter how perfect his lips are.

You jump at the sound of someone clearing their throat. You turn back to the door to see the woman holding a cat carrier doing her best not to smile.

“Not trying to rush you two, but the sooner they settle into a nice loving home, the better,” she says, winking at ‘loving.’ You really should correct her. Actually, Vernon should correct her. He always does, the very few times that you have been mistaken as a couple. He never hesitates, so why isn’t he doing it now? Does he really not realize what she’s implying?

He stands up, turning to face you and extending his hands to pull you up. You roll your eyes but take them anyway, ignoring the way your heart sinks when he lets go this time. He takes the carrier and gently picks up the kittens, blankets and all, and tucks them inside. Pinky follows immediately after, as if she couldn’t bear to be away from her children for more than a second.

“I have a box ready by the door with their food, and toys, and other supplies, and I know you said you have a litter box and you’re ready, but I just wanted to make sure that they settle in nice, and I added a blanket in case they’re homesick, and–” She pauses, peering at the dark holes of the carrier as if she can see the little kittens inside. She takes a deep breath, picking up her child again, stepping to the side so that you and Vernon can leave the room. “I know you two will take good care of them, I do, I just– I’m going to miss them.”

“Me too,” her child says, clinging to her mother’s neck.

The woman smiles. “But we said our goodbyes already, and they’re going to be so happy with these two, right?”

“Of course,” you say when Vernon doesn’t answer. “He’s been obsessed with cats since he was smaller than you!” You wink at the child, who giggles.

You pick up the box at the door, grunting at the heaviness.

“We can switch,” Vernon says softly but you shake your head.

“It’s just to the car, it’s fine.” Vernon looks like he’s going to argue more, but finally he steps onto the front porch, moving as gently as possible, trying to disturb the precious cargo as little as possible.

“Thank you so much again,” the woman says, setting her child down. “We really do wish we could keep them, but it makes me happy knowing that someone capable will be taking care of them, especially an adorable couple like the two of you. Do keep me updated on their adoptions.”

You force a smile and choke out a “thank you,” following Vernon mindlessly down the driveway after she closes the door.

Adorable couple, were her exact words and Vernon said nothing. Why? The word hangs on your tongue, threatening to spill out if you so much as open your mouth. You watch as Vernon sets the carrier in the backseat, then takes the box out of your arms and places it on the floor. You force yourself to move to the passenger side when he raises his eyebrows at you, but once you’re sitting down and the seatbelt is across your chest, you’re frozen again.

Vernon takes your phone when you don’t move, putting in your passcode (the sum of his birthday and yours). He pulls up his own playlist, a collection of hyperpop and indie artists that you normally enjoy listening to. Today it takes all your concentration not to burst.

You almost make it the whole drive, all the way to his block, the apartment building he’s spent the last year and a half in that’s become far too familiar to you. How much time have you wasted away on the floor of his living room, drinking, doing classwork, listening to him talk about the future, rambling to him about the midnight thoughts that threaten your heart? He knows everything about you, except what you need him to know the most.

When the question begins to burn in your heart, you can’t hold it anymore. Vernon pulls into his parking spot and it falls from your lips before you realize it. “Why?”

He has the audacity to feign ignorance, blinking at you before finally asking, “Why what?”

“Why did you let her think we are a couple?”

One of the kittens mewls in the silence, a soft cry for help, sounding pitifully like your own heart.

Vernon stares ahead of him at the concrete wall, the fading red number 19 that designates this spot as his. Just say something, your heart begs him. Stop giving me hope where there is none. His shoulders rise in the tiniest shrug. “I guess I was just curious.”

“Of what?”

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He glances at you, just once. “What it would be like.” He sighs. “This really isn’t the time for this conversation.”

Your grip on the door handle is so tight your knuckles are white. So desperately, you want to believe he’s trying to say what you think he’s saying but you refuse to give yourself hope unless it’s real. “What conversation?”

“Okay, for the record, I did think this through,” he says, “a lot. Like, for months. This isn’t coming out of nowhere, I really did try to figure out if it’s just a passing thing because the last thing I want is for things between us to be weird because you’re my best friend and I tried to imagine my life without you and that was worse than anything, so I decided I wouldn’t ruin anything except I can’t stop thinking about–”

“Vernon.”

He pauses, turning to face you again and this time he doesn’t look away. You’ve never felt self-conscious under his gaze, not when he’s seen every awkward stage of your life and stuck with you anyways. His eyes have always been familiar to you, an oasis of comfort that you always find yourself drifting toward. But the longer he stares at you, the more you want to run away, hide from the heartbreak you see in his eyes.

“I think I like you,” he says. “No. I do. Like, as in more than a friend. God, none of these words are working.”

You stare at him. He’s saying everything you want him to say. He’s saying he likes you. Why can’t you move?

Vernon runs a hand through his hair, and sighs. “Like I said, I don’t want to ruin things between us, you're still my best friend first. But I’m also sure about how I feel and I don’t want to keep it from you any longer. I can’t stay in this limbo of holding onto something that doesn’t exist, so, I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry?” You repeat, frowning. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because… I like you. And that ruins… this.” He gestures between you and him and that’s when you finally realize that he doesn’t know.

“You dumbass,” you say, “I like you, too.”

Vernon frowns, mouth hanging open a little, and you have to wonder if you looked this goofy when he was talking. Your heart swells when you realize you’re the reason for it. “You do?”

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his hand. Your cheeks ache a little, and you realize that you’re smiling wider than you ever have before. You’ve never been this happy, not when you graduated high school, not when you and Vernon found out you got into the same college, not when you got a perfect score on that notoriously impossible chemistry final. “Vernon, I am an idiot that always thought you didn’t feel the way I did so I did everything I could to hide it. But I like you, I really, really do, and I’m sorry I never let it show.” There’s another word for how you feel, but you aren’t quite brave enough to use it yet, even if it’s what you really mean to say.

Vernon leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “We really are dumb, huh?”

“I can already hear Jihoon’s gloating.”

“He’s been nagging you too?” Vernon groans softly but the smile never leaves his lips. “He’s going to be insufferable.”

You’ve grown used to silences with Vernon. Sometimes they are painful, like when he tells a joke and only you laugh. Usually they’re peaceful, comfortable silences that can only exist between two people that have nothing left to say but stay together anyways. But this silence is heavy, a weight on your shoulders pushing you to do something, move closer. You’ve known him your whole life but this is foreign territory.

His breath kisses your lips again and this time you have the bravery to lean forward, just a little. His lips are soft, bottom lip chapped a little more than the top but it is warm and it feels like a first and thousandth at the same time, like unlocking the door to a house you know you’ll spend the rest of your life in. Your mind floats farther and farther away, in some place of impossible happiness that can’t quite believe that this is real.

A soft cry from somewhere to your left brings you back to earth. You pull away at the same time he does, glancing at the backseat. Right. The kittens. You glance at Vernon, whose mouth is still a little open, eyes wide and flustered. It makes you want to kiss him all over again but you settle for laughing.

“I guess we should go inside,” he says, leaning away from you though he doesn’t turn his back yet.

“We should get them settled,” you say, glancing at the carrier again.

Vernon nods, opening his door and grabbing the heavy box, pausing by the entrance to the building to wait for you to grab the carrier. Silence falls again as you ride the elevator up but you’re more than familiar with it.

It doesn’t take long to settle Pinky and the kittens, not when Vernon already had a room set up for them. He figures there’s been enough stress for the day and they should get some peace and space to relax, so you stretch out on the couch, taking your usual corner. Vernon sits next to you, the inch of space separating you feeling like a mile.

Vernon glances at you, chewing on his lip before asking, “You’ll stay?”

“Always.”

The grin that splits his face has you swooning all over again, so when he throws an arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side, your brain fully stops functioning. You have to will thoughts into existence, which is silly because it’s Vernon and he’s done this a million times. But when you tuck your head onto his shoulder and he kisses the top of this head, you know everything is different. And exactly how you want it.

“You’re definitely going to adopt Fried,” you say.

His laughter bounces you. “No way.”

“It’s Fried or Muffin. You can’t handle their cuteness, I saw you baby talking at them.”

“I'll stay strong.”

“What if I want a kitten?”

Vernon doesn’t hesitate. “Egg is pretty cute.”

“Sucker.”

“Only for you.”

thank you for reading <3

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