#Also a really big fan of the following dynamic: | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goldsainz · 28 days ago

Text

# DREW STARKEY — BEHIND THE SCENES !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ a recollection of moments from when you and drew filmed your first movie together.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ probably inaccurate acting scenes, slight angst.

003. NOTE !

✯ guys i’ve spent more time conjuring up ideas about the fictional movie (knowing greek mythology paid off) than actually writing this. again, zendaya is just a face claim for the social media parts but the reader can be imagined as anything or anyone you want! this is also the longest piece of writing i’ve ever done so i really hope it was worth the wait 🫶

word count : 6,6k

There was something undeniably thrilling about starting a new movie project. It wasn’t just the act of filming that exhilarated you, no, it was the entire experience: stepping into a fresh role, meeting new colleagues, and immersing yourself in the intricacies of a new story. Each character brought a unique set of challenges and emotions, making acting as intoxicating as it was fulfilling.

When your agent first mentioned Damien Chazelle’s latest project, it felt like the stars had aligned. A psychological thriller, a role so complex and sought after—it was the kind of opportunity actors dream about. After various auditions and callbacks, you finally got the call: you’d landed the part. But nothing could have prepared you for the shock of learning that Drew Starkey would also be starring in the film.

You’d first met Drew during Variety’s Actors on Actors interview series. The chemistry between you two had been immediate, magnetic, and brimming with potential. The interview itself was lighthearted, but fans couldn’t stop buzzing about the dynamic between you afterward. Social media was flooded with calls for you both to star in a film together. Little did they know that dream would soon become reality.

Your first day on set felt surreal. Despite all your preparation, a flicker of nervous energy pulsed in your chest. It wasn’t just about embodying Isabella, a role that demanded every ounce of emotional depth you had; it was about reuniting with Drew after the whirlwind of speculation and excitement that followed your previous encounter.

Then, as if on cue, you spotted him. He stood across the bustling set, deep in conversation with Damien Chazelle. Already in costume—tailored slacks, an impeccably pressed shirt, and a hint of disheveled hair that somehow enhanced his charm—he looked every bit the enigmatic and manipulative art dealer, Theo. It was almost unsettling how effortlessly he slipped into character.

A pang of nervous energy tightened in your chest, but you masked it quickly. You were no stranger to working alongside talented actors, but something about Drew made you want to push yourself even harder—to impress him, match his intensity, or simply hold your own against the charisma that seemed to radiate from him.

As Drew turned and caught sight of you, his expression shifted. A flicker of recognition passed over his face, followed by a grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He excused himself from his conversation with Damien and strode toward you, his step casual yet deliberate.

“Well, look who’s here,” he said, his tone teasing but undeniably warm. “The artist herself.”

“Drew,” you replied, matching his energy with a smirk. “Or should I say, Theo?”

“Touché,” he shot back, his grin widening as he stopped in front of you. “Guess we’re both stepping into some big shoes this time.”

The air between you hummed with unspoken energy, the hum of the crew around you fading into the background.

“So,” he began, his voice quieter now, tinged with sincerity. “How are you feeling about all this? Ready to dive into the chaos?”

You chuckled softly, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling beneath the surface. “As ready as I’ll ever be. And you?”

His gaze softened, the playful edge giving way to something earnest. “Same. But if there’s anyone who can bring Isabella to life, it’s you. You’ve got this.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a warm blanket, bolstering your confidence. “Thanks, Drew,” you said, your voice touched with gratitude. “That means a lot.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Just don’t forget to save some of that intensity for the scenes. I hear Theo and Isabella have… interesting dynamics.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile curving your lips. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten. Just try to keep up, Starkey.”

His laughter was genuine, the kind that made your chest feel lighter. “Challenge accepted.”

The set had an almost electric feel today. The tension in the air mirrored the intensity of the scene you were about to film, a confrontation that pushed Isabella to her limits. Drew had just finished his scenes as Theo, but instead of retreating to his trailer for a break, he chose to stay behind the cameras, watching you as you prepared for your big moment.

He leaned against a quiet corner of the set, his arms crossed, his gaze never leaving you. You were already in character, your body language shifting as you transformed into Isabella. Drew had seen it all; the way you could disappear into your role, the way you made every moment feel alive, even the smallest of gestures. It was magnetic, captivating, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

You were standing across from a male crew member, discussing the next scene. Drew noticed how naturally you interacted with him, the ease with which you joked around, the warm laughter that escaped you as you shared a quiet moment between takes. There was nothing flirtatious about it, nothing intentional. It was just your charm, your ability to connect with anyone, to make them feel like they were the only person in the room.

But as Drew watched, a pang of something unfamiliar twisted in his chest. The crew member—an assistant director, he knew—was praising you. “You’ve really outdone yourself today,” the man said with a grin, clapping you on the back. “Isabella’s depth? Incredible. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone pull that off quite like you.”

You smiled, your cheeks flushing with the kind of humility that made Drew’s heart ache. “Thank you, that’s all I wanted,” you said, clearly grateful for the acknowledgment but never one to boast.

Drew’s grip on the railing tightened, a strange feeling settling in his gut as he watched you laugh and engage so effortlessly. He had always admired your talent—hell, he had always been in awe of it��but today, for some reason, it felt different. The warmth in the crew member’s praise, the way he seemed to linger a little longer, a little too long, sent a sharp twinge of jealousy through Drew. He hated the way it felt, hated how quickly it consumed him.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to be appreciated—he did. You deserved all the recognition in the world. But the knowledge that someone else was seeing the very qualities he had admired in you from the start, that someone else could see what made you so unique... it made something inside him stir.

And it wasn’t just admiration he felt for you—it was something deeper, something he had tried to ignore ever since that first interview. He could remember the spark between you both, the effortless connection that had only grown stronger since then. Every moment with you, every conversation, had somehow led him here. To this feeling, this painful realization that he wasn’t just drawn to you as a friend or a co-star—he was falling for you.

But he wasn’t sure if you saw him the same way. Or if you ever would.

He swallowed hard, trying to shake off the feeling, but it lingered, gnawing at him as the scene began. Drew watched from the shadows as you took your position, your posture shifting with the weight of Isabella’s inner turmoil. The camera rolled, and the world seemed to disappear. He wasn’t thinking about the crew member anymore, or the way you had smiled at him.

No, Drew was too focused on the way you delivered your lines. Every word you spoke seemed to come from a place of real pain, real desperation. It was like watching a storm roll in, one that consumed everything in its path.

When Damien called cut, the set fell silent for a beat. Drew’s breath caught in his throat. You were brilliant. He’d known it for a long time, but watching you right here, right now, brought it all to the forefront—how far you had come, how much of yourself you put into every scene.

He watched you stand tall, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes still distant from the intensity of the scene you’d just played. And as you looked around, Drew’s gaze softened. You were remarkable.

The crew member who had been praising you earlier walked up to you again, and Drew couldn’t help but feel that same uncomfortable stir in his chest. He had to admit, it wasn’t just the praise that bothered him—it was the way this guy kept looking at you. Drew quickly averted his eyes, his jaw tightening as he turned his attention back to the crew.

But as you turned toward Drew, your eyes meeting his for just a second, something passed between you, something unspoken. You offered him a small, genuine smile, the kind that only he seemed to get. And in that brief moment, everything else faded away.

He took a breath, forcing the jealousy back down. The weight of it, the sting, wasn’t going to cloud this moment. He knew what he felt. It was real, it was undeniable, and maybe, just maybe, there was still time to figure it all out. But for now, all he could do was admire you from afar, watch as you brought your character to life, and hope that one day, you’d see him the way he saw you.

And with that thought, Drew finally stepped forward, his resolve firming, ready to give you the space and respect you deserved while also knowing that there was so much more he wanted to say.

The scene you were filming was a culmination of everything Isabella had been building toward—raw, vulnerable, and utterly shattering. It wasn’t just a performance; it was a reckoning, the moment when all her carefully buried pain and longing erupted to the surface. Every word you spoke felt like tearing open a wound, every gesture a desperate plea for salvation. The air was thick with tension, and you could feel the weight of every eye on set, holding their breath, waiting to see if you could pull it off.

Drew, as Theo, stood before you, towering in every sense of the word. His presence wasn’t just physical; it consumed the space, dominating the scene like a storm about to break. His voice, low and cutting, delivered lines that felt like knives slicing through the air, leaving no room to hide. When his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity was unbearable, like he could see right into you—not just Isabella, but you.

The camera captured the moment your composure shattered, tears spilling as your voice cracked under the weight of the scene. You weren’t sure where Isabella ended and you began anymore. The pain felt too real, too sharp, and when Damien finally called “cut,” the word sliced through the tension like a knife. The silence that followed was deafening, a stark contrast to the storm you’d just weathered.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, the rawness of the moment clinging to you like a second skin. Your chest heaved as you struggled to come back to yourself, but the emotions wouldn’t let go. Your hands trembled at your sides, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you thought you might break apart completely.

“Hey,” Drew’s voice cut through the haze, soft but insistent. His hand was on your arm before you even realized he’d crossed the room. His touch was grounding, his presence a lifeline. “Look at me,” he said, his tone low, coaxing.

You turned your head slowly, meeting his eyes, and the concern there undid you. Your breath hitched, and a tear slid down your cheek before you could stop it. “I… I don’t know how long I can keep doing this,” you whispered, the words tumbling out, raw and unfiltered. “It’s too much. I feel like I’m drowning.”

Drew didn’t hesitate. He stepped closer, his hand sliding from your arm to your shoulder, then to the small of your back, pulling you gently but firmly into his embrace. You froze for a moment, caught between the instinct to hold it together and the overwhelming need to let go. His arms wrapped around you, warm and steady, and the dam broke.

“I can’t,” you choked out, your voice muffled against his chest. “I feel like I left everything out there, and there’s nothing left of me. Nothing.”

His grip tightened, his hand cradling the back of your head as his fingers threaded gently through your hair. “Shh,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re not empty. You’re just wide open right now, and that’s what makes this real. That’s what makes you extraordinary.”

You clung to him, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt as sobs wracked your body. He didn’t rush you, didn’t try to fix it or make it better. He just held you, his own breathing steady and calm, like he was anchoring you to the world.

“I saw you out there,” he whispered after a moment, his lips brushing against your temple. “You weren’t just acting. You were her. Every ounce of pain, every flicker of hope—you brought it to life. You made them feel it. You made me feel it.”

You pulled back slightly, your tear-streaked face tilted up to meet his gaze. His eyes were glassy, his own emotions barely restrained, and the vulnerability between you was electric. “But what if it’s not enough?” you asked, your voice breaking.

“It is,” he said firmly, his hand cupping your face now, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “It’s more than enough. You’re enough.” His voice cracked on the last word, the raw sincerity in it making your chest tighten.

The world around you seemed to blur, the sounds of the crew preparing for the next take fading into the background. All you could see, all you could feel, was Drew. He gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod, his hand steadying your shoulder.“You’ve got this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but laced with unwavering conviction. “And I’ve got you. Always.”

The day had been long—endless takes, precision, and the kind of emotional exhaustion that made every muscle in your body ache. Filming had wrapped for the day, but the atmosphere on set hadn’t fully shifted. The quiet hum of equipment and the occasional voices from the crew still echoed around you, but you felt the weight of the day lift as you retreated to the solitude of your trailer.

You were halfway through removing your costume when a soft knock at the door caught your attention. It was a gentle knock, familiar in its rhythm, and you immediately recognized it.

“Come in,” you called, already knowing who it was.

The door creaked open, and there stood Drew, leaning against the frame with a lazy smile that instantly made the tension in your shoulders ease.

“Long day?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, and there was a glint of playfulness in his eyes, but it was tempered with something warmer, something more tender.

“Understatement,” you replied, rolling your eyes, though your smile betrayed the exhaustion you were trying to hide.

He nodded and pushed the door open a little more, stepping inside. The space felt smaller with him in it, but somehow it didn’t feel crowded. It felt… comfortable. Safe.

Drew’s gaze drifted over to the small sofa beside the window, and without a word, he took a seat, kicking his shoes off and stretching his legs out. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he seemed to move, like he was made to fit into this small space as if he belonged here, with you.

You finished removing the last of the costume and dropped it into the nearby hamper, but instead of diving into your usual post-filming routine of unwinding, you found yourself walking over to him, drawn to the quiet energy between you. He looked up at you, his gaze softening as you neared.

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper, as if the very sound of it could pull you closer.

You didn’t hesitat to sit down beside him. There was a comfortable silence between you two, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. You leaned back against the cushions, the heat from his body radiating beside you.

Drew turned his head slightly, catching your eye. His expression was different from how he’d been on set—this wasn’t the charismatic, calculated Theo. This was Drew, the man you had come to know off-camera. His gaze was tender, almost searching, as if he was asking permission for something more.

Without a word, he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing over yours before lacing them together. The small contact sent a flutter through you, the simple act of his touch carrying an intimacy that felt far more profound than it had any right to be.

“Can I just…” he began, his voice trailing off for a moment before he squeezed your hand gently. “Can I just be here with you for a while? No cameras, no lines, just us?”

You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’d like that.”

His thumb began to trace soft circles over the back of your hand, and you leaned into him, the quiet between you two settling into something even deeper than physical proximity. His body was warm, and his scent—fresh and slightly woody—wrapped around you like a blanket, comforting in its familiarity.

“You were incredible today,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His words held no pretense, just raw sincerity. “Every time I see you step into a scene, it’s like you bring something new to the table. I don’t know how you do it.”

You could feel your heart flutter at his praise, but instead of letting it sink in fully, you shifted your focus back to him, tilting your head slightly to catch his eyes. “What about you? You’re kind of a force to be reckoned with, Starkey.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and genuine, and you felt him shift closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. “I’m just trying to keep up with you,” he teased, but there was no mistaking the fondness in his voice. He leaned in just enough for his breath to graze your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Before you could respond, he moved his hand from yours, slowly resting it on your cheek, his touch soft but possessive. The weight of his gaze locked onto yours, and you could feel the air shift between you—charged, magnetic, undeniable.

“I’ve wanted this moment for a while,” he admitted quietly, his thumb grazing your cheekbone.

Your pulse quickened, your breath hitching as his hand slid around to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You didn’t fight it; you closed the gap, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and filled with the kind of quiet longing that had built between you for weeks now.

The kiss deepened, and everything outside of the small trailer seemed to fade away. There was no set, no crew, no expectations—just the two of you, wrapped up in the space you had created together. It wasn’t hurried or urgent. It was soft, a tender promise without words, like something neither of you had realized you needed until it was happening.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you found yourself leaning your forehead against his, sharing the same air between you. He smiled, his eyes glimmering with something that went beyond attraction.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured, his voice thick with affection.

You closed your eyes, savoring the quiet after the storm of emotions on set, the gentle sound of his heartbeat in your ear, and the warmth of his embrace. “Me too,” you whispered back, letting the moment stretch on, knowing it was one you’d carry with you long after the lights went down and the cameras stopped rolling.

The morning after your quiet, intimate moment in the trailer felt different. There was a strange kind of weight in the air between you and Drew that neither of you could ignore. The atmosphere on set was charged with an unspoken energy, the kind that hung between two people who had shared something personal but weren’t quite sure how to navigate it in the daylight.

As the crew began setting up for the first scene of the day, you found yourself standing off to the side, absentmindedly checking your script, but every now and then, your eyes would flicker toward Drew. He was standing with Damien, talking animatedly about something, but there was a tightness in his posture that wasn’t there before. He had always exuded confidence, but now, there was a subtle hesitance to his movements—like he was still figuring out where you stood with each other after the kiss.

You could feel it too. The usual camaraderie between you two was laced with something different now. The chemistry was still there, but it felt like a live wire; dangerous and unpredictable. The playful banter that had flowed so easily between you the day before seemed distant, replaced by awkward silences whenever you found yourselves in the same vicinity.

You tried to shake it off. This was your job. You were here to work, to give your best performance, and that had to come first. But no matter how much you told yourself to focus, the tension was inescapable.

The first scene you were filming together was a pivotal one—Isabella’s first real confrontation with Theo, a moment where everything changes between them. Your character was supposed to be cool and collected, but deep down, she was unraveling at the seams. You had to bring all that turmoil, all that internal chaos to the surface in a matter of moments.

When Damien called “Action,” the professional masks slipped on almost instinctively, and you both fell into character.

Drew’s performance was colder today, more distant, his usual charm replaced by a simmering, quiet intensity. His eyes, once warm and full of teasing, now held a cold calculation as they met yours. You could feel the weight of his gaze, and though it was just acting, the memory of the night before lingered, making the scene feel even more charged than it should have been.

“You think you have control of this, Isabella?” Theo’s voice was sharp, the words cutting through the air like a blade.

You shot back, the defiance in Isabella’s eyes glaring through your own. “Your entire scheme depends on me, Theo. Without me, it crumbles to dust. If that’s not control, I don’t know what is.”

The words came easily, but every time you locked eyes with Drew, there was a brief flicker of something behind his gaze—a flicker of the intimacy you’d shared, a memory that was suddenly alive in the space between you. It was hard to shake, and you could tell it was affecting his performance too. His lines weren’t as crisp as usual, his timing slightly off, as though he was distracted.

The tension was palpable, hanging over the scene like a cloud, and the moment you wrapped the scene, the silence that followed felt deafening.

Damien looked between the two of you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Let’s take a break,” he said after a moment, clearly sensing the shift in energy. “Maybe a few minutes to reset?”

You nodded quickly, eager for the space, for the chance to breathe outside of the tight bubble of tension. Drew, on the other hand, didn’t say anything. He simply nodded curtly, giving you a quick glance that made your stomach flip before turning away to walk toward the corner of the set.

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Should you approach him? Pretend nothing had changed? Or should you give him space, let the awkwardness settle, and let the scene breathe?

You didn’t get the chance to think too long. A hand gently touched your shoulder, and you turned to find Cailee Spaney, your co-star, standing beside you, a concerned look on her face.

“You two okay?” she asked, her tone light, but there was a genuine curiosity behind it. She knew you both well enough to sense the shift.

You hesitated. “I think so. Just… a weird energy today, you know?”

Cailee’s eyes flickered over to where Drew stood, chatting with the crew but still glancing in your direction. “It’s pretty obvious to everyone. You’ve got to clear the air, or it’s going to keep hanging over both of you.”

You knew she was right. The unspoken tension between you and Drew wasn’t just something that could be ignored—it would affect the work, the connection between your characters, and maybe even the rest of the team’s comfort. But you weren’t sure how to fix it. How do you go from that intimate moment behind closed doors to this, to being back in the public eye with cameras rolling, no room for vulnerability?

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, Drew’s voice broke through, calling your name.

“Hey,” he said, walking toward you, his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes uncertain but earnest. “Can we talk?”

You nodded, stepping a little closer to him. There was an intensity in his gaze now, but it wasn’t the cold, calculating Theo you’d seen on set. This was Drew, the one you knew—the one who had kissed you, the one who was just as affected by everything as you were.

“Look,” he started, his voice lower than usual. “I’m not… I don’t want this to be weird. I don’t want it to mess with the work, with the scenes. I just—”

“Yeah,” you interrupted softly, “me neither. It’s just… it’s hard to go back to pretending nothing happened.”

He smiled weakly, and you could see the tension in his face ease a little. “You’re right. But we’ve got this. We’ll figure it out. Just need to get through today, right?”

You took a deep breath, nodding. “Right.”

And for the first time since you’d kissed him, you both shared a moment of quiet understanding—no more words needed. You still didn’t know how this would all play out, but for now, you had a scene to finish, a role to play, and a bond that had quietly shifted in ways neither of you could ignore.

The last day on set arrived like a blur—one moment, you were just starting the project, and now, you were standing in the middle of the set for the final scene, everything winding down. It felt surreal, almost like you were moving through a dream. The camaraderie you’d built with the cast and crew, the long hours, the inside jokes, and the late-night rehearsals were all coming to a close. And yet, there was a weight in the air—one that had little to do with the wrap-up of the film.

You and Drew had navigated the tension between you both for weeks now, silently acknowledging it but never fully addressing it. Both of you had poured your energy into the project, the work taking center stage, but there had always been that quiet pull between you. Now, as you watched the final scene being set up, there was no denying it: this wasn’t just about wrapping the film. There was something unspoken that you knew needed to be said.

Drew was already on set, his costume as Theo impeccably sharp, his eyes distracted as he ran through lines under his breath. He looked different today—softer, like the walls he’d built around himself throughout the project were crumbling.

The last scene between Isabella and Theo was intense, charged with everything they’d been through together. It was a pivotal moment, where they both stood at a crossroads, neither sure of where the future would take them. The connection between you two felt more real than ever, and you knew this was the moment where it all had to come to a head—both on screen and off.

As the crew prepared for the final take, you caught Drew’s eye from across the set. There was something in his gaze—a flicker of hesitation, like he wanted to say something, but the moment wasn’t quite right. You couldn’t let it go.

You moved toward him, your footsteps echoing in the quiet before the chaos of the scene began. As you approached, Drew straightened up, his hands fidgeting nervously at his sides.

"Hey," you said, offering him a small smile. “Ready to wrap this up?”

He returned the smile, but there was an unreadable look in his eyes. “Yeah, but... I’ve been thinking.”

You raised an eyebrow, a sense of curiosity stirring in your chest. “About?”

He shifted slightly, the weight of his words hanging between you two. “About us. About... everything.” He swallowed, his usual confident demeanor faltering. “You know, the way things have been between us. We’ve never really talked about it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The air between you felt thick, charged. It was as if the words had been waiting to spill out for weeks, and now, in the stillness of the final day, they couldn’t be contained any longer.

“Drew…” you started, your voice barely a whisper, unsure of what to say.

He stepped closer, the space between you narrowing until it felt like no one else existed. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for a while now,” he continued, his voice a little rougher than usual, the weight of his feelings making every word feel like it carried more meaning than it ever had before. “I can’t pretend anymore. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not after how I feel about you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to fade into the background. The noise of the set, the crew bustling about, even the upcoming scene—it all vanished as Drew’s words sank in.

“I care about you,” he said, his voice softer now, the intensity of his confession undeniable. “More than I’ve let on. More than I probably should. But I can’t ignore it anymore, and I don’t want to walk away from this without telling you.”

You stood there, the weight of his confession hanging in the air. It felt like a moment frozen in time—one that had been building for weeks, but now that it was finally here, you didn’t know how to respond.

For a beat, you didn’t say anything. You just looked at him, trying to process the rush of emotions his words had triggered. But then, a smile began to tug at the corners of your lips. You took a step closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I’m glad you said that,” you whispered, your voice steady, but your emotions running wild beneath the surface. “I’ve been feeling the same way, Drew. I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”

He gave a small, relieved laugh, his eyes brightening with that familiar warmth. “I’ve been trying to convince myself to wait until the film wrapped, until everything calmed down. But every time I looked at you... it just felt like I was lying to myself.”

You laughed softly, the tension between you easing, replaced by something deeper, something real. “I think we’ve both been lying to ourselves,” you said, your hand unconsciously reaching out for his.

Drew’s fingers curled around yours, and for the first time in weeks, there was no awkwardness, no uncertainty—just the simple connection between you both, like a thread that had always been there, waiting to be pulled.

As the crew called for the final take, you both stood there for a moment longer, simply taking in the quiet of the moment before the storm of filming began again.

“Let’s finish this,” Drew said with a grin, his fingers still tightly holding yours.

You nodded, the anticipation in your chest matching the excitement in his eyes. "Yeah. Let’s do this."

The scene was about to begin, but for once, you weren’t worried about the cameras, the crew, or the pressure. For the first time in a long while, you were just here—with him. And that was enough.

As you both walked back onto set, side by side, you knew this moment, this day, was one that would stay with you long after the credits rolled. Drew had confessed his feelings, and the truth between you was no longer hidden. You had one more scene to film, but in that moment, it felt like the beginning of something entirely new.

The post-wrap party was everything you’d imagined it would be—laughter, music, and the celebratory sound ofclinking of glasses. The set was a distant memory now, the whirlwind of the past few months slowly fading into the background as you found yourself in the midst of the crew and cast, celebrating the end of a long, intense journey. The atmosphere was warm, filled with a sense of accomplishment and camaraderie.

Lights twinkled overhead, casting a soft glow over the gathering. The chatter was a mix of congratulatory remarks and funny anecdotes from behind the scenes. You could hear snippets of conversations as people relived the chaos of filming, the challenges, and the triumphs, but amidst it all, your eyes couldn’t help but drift back to Drew.

He was leaning against the bar, chatting with a few of the crew members. Even from across the room, you could feel the pull between you—the magnetic energy that had only intensified since that first kiss. The way he’d laughed with you on set, the way he’d confessed his feelings on that last day—it all felt like a beautiful dream, yet it was real. You couldn’t shake the quiet contentment that had settled in your chest, a feeling that only seemed to grow stronger with every passing minute.

Your heart warmed as you watched him, the soft light from the party highlighting the sharpness of his jaw, the playfulness in his eyes. Drew looked at home here, yet he had a way of making everything feel more meaningful just by being present. He was grounded and alive in a way that made you feel safe, as if you’d found a place in this world where you truly belonged.

Finally, your legs moved on their own, carrying you through the crowd. Each step brought you closer to him, closer to something that felt inevitable. And when he turned toward you, as if he’d sensed your approach, his eyes lit up with the warmth that had become familiar. There was no awkwardness now, no uncertainty—only the comfort of knowing that you and Drew were no longer tiptoeing around each other. What had started as something tentative had grown into something real, something undeniable.

“Hey,” Drew said with that soft smile of his, his voice like home. “I was wondering when you’d come over.”

You smiled back, moving closer to him, feeling the way his presence filled the space between you. “Couldn’t resist. The party’s fun, but... I’d rather be here with you,” you replied, your voice low and sincere.

Drew’s smile deepened, his gaze softening as he looked at you, his eyes full of something that went beyond simple affection. He raised his glass in a mock toast. “To the film, to the work, and to... us, I guess,” he said, a little shy but so genuine that it made your chest ache.

You lifted your own glass to meet his, the soft clink of the glasses an almost imperceptible note in the music that surrounded you. “To us,” you echoed, the words settling deep within you, filling the empty spaces you didn’t even realize existed. It was real now, the connection, the undeniable bond that had been growing between you since the moment you first locked eyes on set.

The music played softly in the background, but in that moment, it felt like everything was quieter—more intimate. You were standing there together, both of you caught in the soft embrace of a night that felt endless, where time stood still. Drew’s presence was a comfort you hadn’t known you needed, and as you stood beside him, a peace settled over you that you hadn’t expected.

“Are you happy with how everything turned out?” Drew asked, his voice sincere, his eyes searching yours for something only you could give him.

You thought for a moment, your heart beating steadily in your chest. The long hours, the late-night rehearsals, the emotional scenes—it had all been a whirlwind. But standing there with Drew, feeling the warmth of his hand resting just above your waist, everything felt clearer. “Yeah,�� you said, your voice steady but filled with warmth. “I’m proud of everything we did. Proud of how far we’ve come.”

Drew nodded, his gaze softening, and his lips curved into a smile that made your heart flutter. “Same here. You were incredible. You brought Isabella to life in a way I never thought possible.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Well, you weren’t so bad yourself, Starkey. Theo was... captivating, to say the least.” The words were teasing, but your smile spoke of something deeper—a sense of admiration and respect for everything he’d brought to the character.

His laugh was soft, a sound that sent warmth through your veins, and he moved a little closer, the space between you disappearing. “Thanks. But I think you’re the one who made everything come together. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner.” His words were simple, yet they carried a weight that made your chest tighten in the most wonderful way.

The connection between you deepened in that moment, like two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place. Drew’s gaze softened, and his voice dropped to a quiet whisper. “I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured, taking a step closer, his hand slipping into yours. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I know it’s crazy, but... I don’t want this to be just a set thing. What we have, I mean. I don’t want it to end when the film does.”

Your heart raced, and without a second thought, you took a small step toward him, the space between you now nonexistent. “Me neither,” you whispered, your hand gently cupping his face as you looked into his eyes. “I think this is just the beginning, Drew.”

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, and his hand found the small of your back, pulling you closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. Without another word, Drew leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the softest kiss—a kiss that held everything unspoken. It was slow, a gentle exploration, as though both of you were savoring the moment, the sweetness of everything that had led you here.

When you pulled away, the world around you seemed to fade. The music, the laughter, the chatter—it all felt distant, as if the only thing that mattered was Drew, and the feeling of his arms around you, his lips on yours. “Then let’s see where it goes,” he said softly, his breath warm against your cheek.

You smiled, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. The world felt right in a way it hadn’t before. The film was over, but the connection you shared with Drew was just beginning to blossom, and you were content, certain that whatever happened next, you’d face it together.

The night continued around you, but for the two of you, it was just the beginning.

#*ੈ✩༄ my works !#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fic #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey angst #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey social media au #drew starkey smau #celebrity x reader #celebrity fanfic #rafe cameron x reader

322 notes · View notes

focusonkayjay · 2 months ago

Text

Wildly Wealthy Koreans (2); inspired by Crazy Rich Asians

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: photographer/ filmmaker! jungkook, rich girl/ fashion designer! reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, potential smut

Series summary: When you invite your boyfriend, Jungkook, to accompany you to your brother's wedding in your hometown, Daegu, he’s overjoyed, eager to meet your family and experience a side of your life you’ve never shared with him. However, once he uncovers the truth about who you really are, he’s unable to grasp the full extent of your reality. The situation becomes even more complicated when a certain someone makes him feel profoundly unwelcome, leaving him to question not only your world, but also his place in it.

Disclaimer: This series is heavily inspired by the movie Crazy Rich Asians, with the storyline closely following the original film's plot. However, I wanted to reimagine it as a fanfiction, where Jungkook and OC take center stage as the main protagonists. While I’ve kept the core elements and themes from the movie, I’ve added my own touches here and there, such as altering certain character dynamics and incorporating a few original settings. Some scenes are directly inspired by the movie, and I’ve worked to recreate them in a way that it hopefully resonates with the fans of the movie. Hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 6.6k+

Chapter Warnings: talks about culture, your mom is a meanie

A/N: literally fighting the urge to rewatch crazy rich asians right now omg. anyways, i'm having so much fun writing this because i love explaining every little thing in detail, and this series gives me so many opportunities to do so. let me know your thoughts <3

part 2

“I can’t believe this.” Jungkook breathes out, sinking into the plush comfort of Yoongi’s ridiculously soft mattress. He runs a hand through his hair, his mind racing as he tries to process everything he had found out during the eventful lunch he just had with Yoongi's family.

It feels like the ground beneath him has shifted. You’re not exactly who he thought you were. Not that he had preconceived notions about your life, but this? This was on an entirely different level. “I wonder why she never told me.” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

Yoongi chuckles from across the room as he pulls back the heavy, luxurious curtains, flooding the space with the warm afternoon light. His bedroom is just as opulent as the rest of the mansion... floor-to-ceiling windows, sleek modern furniture, and an aesthetic that screams understated wealth.

“I mean… maybe she didn’t want to show off.” Yoongi suggests casually, as if being from an ultra-rich family is something people hide every day. “Yeah… like you.” Jungkook points out, sitting up and gesturing around the room.

His eyes narrow as they take in every detail. “You never told me you were this...” he pauses, glancing pointedly at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the antique show piece on the side table, and the impossibly soft bedding beneath him “...rich.”

Yoongi smirks as he leans against the window frame, arms crossed. “What can I say? I’m humble like that.”

Jungkook groans, leaning back on the mattress as he throws an arm over his face. “My whole life is a lie. You’re telling me I’ve been surrounded by literal multimillionaires this whole time and I didn’t have a single clue?” His voice is half-frustrated, half-bewildered, and the wide-eyed expression on his face makes Yoongi snort with laughter.

“Come on, you’re being dramatic.” Yoongi teases, his tone light but with a knowing smirk. It’s almost laughable coming from him... the same guy who was practically losing his mind over you back in the dining room. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” he adds casually, as if he hadn’t been the one freaking out just moments ago.

“Not that big of a deal?” Jungkook echoes, sitting up with an incredulous look. “You live in a mansion. You drive a car that costs more than my entire apartment building. And now I find out my girlfriend is a part of one of the most powerful families in the country?” He shakes his head, rubbing his temples. “You’re right. Totally normal. Nothing to see here.”

Yoongi grins, clearly entertained by his friend’s over-the-top reaction. “You’re handling this surprisingly well.” he jokes. Jungkook shoots him a look. “I’m on the verge of an existential crisis, and you’re laughing at me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Yoongi says with a shrug, making Jungkook groan again.

“And now I can’t stop thinking about that damn tea party ceremony thing I have to go to, this evening.” Jungkook sighs, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

His fingers thread through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know what to expect after everything I’ve learned today.” He breathes out heavily, as though the weight of the world is pressing down on his shoulders.

“Don’t stress it.” Yoongi replies, his tone infuriatingly nonchalant as he leans back in his chair. He looks completely at ease, like Jungkook hadn’t just had his world turned upside down in the span of a few minutes.

Jungkook stares at him, exasperated. “How can I not? I don’t know if I’ll even be able to fit in. Everyone there will probably take one look at me and smell the filth on me. They’ll know right away that I’m a completely different breed compared to them.” he huffs, gesturing dramatically to make his point.

Yoongi stifles a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” Jungkook counters, his tone sharp. “I’m just some regular guy. I grew up in a tiny apartment with my mom, eating instant ramen and working part-time jobs to get by. These people... your people... live in literal mansions and probably eat gold-flaked caviar for breakfast or something.” he rambles.

Yoongi finally bursts out laughing, the sound making Jungkook scowl even more. “Gold-flaked caviar? That’s a bit too much, even for us.” Yoongi teases, his voice dripping with amusement. “But seriously, You’re overthinking it.”

Jungkook shakes his head, his insecurities bubbling to the surface. “You don’t get it. I’m not like them. I don’t know the rules, or how to act, or what to say or how... how to dress. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.” he says, covering his face as the stress surges through his veins.

"Well, since you brought it up... do you have an outfit for the evening?" Yoongi questions. Jungkook shrugs, a bit unsure. “Well, I have this simple suit. It’s... it's this black-”

“No way.” Yoongi interrupts, shaking his head in disbelief. “There’s no way you’re wearing a simple black suit to this thing.”

Jungkook blinks, taken aback. “What’s wrong with a simple black suit?” he asks, genuinely perplexed.

Yoongi clicks his tongue like a disappointed teacher, standing up from his seat. “This won’t do. Follow me.” he says briskly, already turning on his heels. Jungkook barely has time to react before Yoongi is leading him down the hall and into what can only be described as a dream closet.

The room is enormous, with racks of clothing neatly arranged by color and style. Spotlights illuminate the array of designer outfits, from tailored suits to silk shirts and everything in between.

Shelves line the walls, displaying polished leather shoes, neatly folded ties, and an impressive collection of watches. A faint, luxurious scent lingers in the air, and Jungkook can’t help but gape at the sheer extravagance of it all.

“Okay, let’s see.” Yoongi mutters, his sharp eyes scanning the racks like a man on a mission. He pulls out a prussian blue short coat with clean, sharp lines and a tailored fit. The material has a subtle texture that exudes luxury without being flashy. “This is so so sleek and I think this should be perfect for tonight.” he muses.

“Blue?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “You think that’s the move?”

Yoongi smirks. “I don't think... I know it is.” He sets the coat aside and grabs a light blue silky dress shirt, its soft sheen adding just the right amount of elegance. “This will add a little softness. Plus, it’s classy as hell.” he explains.

Before Jungkook can protest, Yoongi moves to another section, pulling out matching prussian blue trousers. “These match the coat...” he softly says, more to himself.

Yoongi then crouches down to the shoe shelf, grabbing a pair of sleek black loafers “And these... for your feet.” He stands back up and makes his way to the display of accessories.

“We’ll keep it simple...” he murmurs, looking around and a few seconds later, he picks out a delicate diamond brooch shaped like a flower. “This is gonna add just the right amount of sophistication without being too much.” he smiles, proud of himself for the fashion choices he's making.

“Try it on.” Yoongi orders, shoving the outfit into Jungkook’s arms.

Jungkook hesitates, still overwhelmed by how much thought Yoongi has put into this. “Isn’t this… a bit too much for a tea... party?”

“Not for this one.” Yoongi says matter-of-factly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Trust me, this is how you blend in while still making a statement.. you're gonna thank me for this.”

A few minutes later, Jungkook emerges from the dressing area, and Yoongi’s face lights up in approval, completely satisfied with his work.

The prussian blue coat fits Jungkook perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders, while the silky light blue shirt adds a sophisticated edge. The trousers and polished loafers complete the look, and the diamond brooch glimmers subtly, tying everything together seamlessly. (jungkook's full outfit if u want to visualize it)

Yoongi whistles low, nodding. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. You look insanely good.” he claps. Jungkook glances at himself in the mirror, stunned by the transformation. “I look… fancy.” he mutters, running a hand down the soft fabric of the coat.

Yoongi smirks. “You look expensive. And that’s exactly the point.”

As the clock strikes 5, Jungkook’s phone buzzes with a message from you. It’s the address of the place he’s supposed to go. The pit in his stomach deepens as he reads it... nerves gnawing at him now that the event feels real and imminent.

He stands in Yoongi’s room, fidgeting with the cuffs of the silky dress shirt he's wearing, while Yoongi carefully styles his hair. After a few minutes of fussing, Yoongi steps back, his expression satisfied. “There.... perfect.” he quips with a smirk.

Jungkook sighs, taking in his reflection. He looks different... polished, refined, like someone who owns a portfolio full of stocks and leaves enormous tips at fancy restaurants without a second thought. He tilts his head, still processing the transformation.

“Let’s head out?” Yoongi suggests, and though still hesitant, Jungkook nods, grabbing his phone and wallet before following Yoongi downstairs.

When they step outside, the familiar luxury of Yoongi's estate greets him and he instantly notices that this time, Yoongi has opted for a different car... a sleek, deep-red Ferrari Roma. The polished exterior gleams under the fading daylight, and Jungkook can’t help but gawk. "This car looks like it belongs in a museum." he mutters, still trying to process Yoongi’s absurdly lavish lifestyle.

The same guard from earlier appears, carrying Jungkook’s luggage, which he efficiently loads into the the car's surprisingly spacious trunk. Yoongi slides into the driver’s seat, revving the engine, and the low, throaty hum fills the air.

Jungkook gets into the passenger seat, muttering under his breath, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

Yoongi chuckles as he adjusts the rearview mirror. “You’re supposed to say, ‘Thank you, Yoongi, for giving me a taste of luxury.’” he jokes.

The ride to the address you’ve shared isn’t long, but with each passing kilometer, Jungkook grows more apprehensive. The city’s bustling streets fade away, replaced by quieter, tree-lined roads. And as the sun finally sets, the atmosphere feels secluded and serene, the kind of area reserved for only the wealthiest of the wealthy.

By the time they approach the destination, it’s almost completely dark, and the surroundings are cloaked in shadow. Eventually, the headlights illuminate a massive iron gate adorned with intricate designs, the kind that looks custom-made and costs more than an average car.

Tall stone pillars flank the gate, with elegant golden lettering engraved on plaques— 'The Kims' etched prominently.

The GPS pings, signaling they’ve arrived. Before Jungkook can say a word, the gates swing open automatically, revealing a long, winding driveway lined with towering, perfectly trimmed trees. A soft glow from decorative lanterns illuminates the path, casting an ethereal ambiance over the grounds.

“Is this a driveway or a runway?” Jungkook mutters as the car rolls forward. The sheer length of the driveway seems surreal and it takes them almost five minutes to reach the end.

When they finally arrive, Yoongi slams on the brakes, his jaw dropping. “Holy fuck…” he breathes, gripping the steering wheel tightly. His voice is barely above a whisper as he asks, “Are you seeing this?”

Jungkook stares, utterly gobsmacked. Before them stands an enormous mansion, more like a palace than a home. The architecture is a seamless blend of modern elegance and classic grandeur.

A sprawling facade of pristine white marble reflects the soft golden lights strategically placed along the perimeter. Massive glass windows stretch across the mansion, framed by intricate black ironwork.

A fountain stands proudly in the center of the circular driveway, water cascading gracefully in the glow of ambient lights. The front doors are enormous, crafted from dark wood and adorned with golden handles that look like they belong in a royal palace.

Behind the mansion, faint silhouettes of sprawling gardens and additional wings of the estate hint at just how vast this property is. Jungkook feels like he’s stepped into a movie. His voice is barely audible as he murmurs. “This… This is where Y/N lives?”

“Dude...” Yoongi says, still staring at the mansion. “I told you my place would be nothing compared to this.”

As Yoongi is still marveling at the house, his hands gripping the steering wheel like he’s afraid to blink and miss something, Jungkook’s gaze drifts beyond the car's window.

Near the expansive lawn and the grand entrance of the mansion, groups of people mingle, their laughter and chatter carried on the soft evening breeze. It’s all so overwhelming, but then his eyes land on you, and suddenly, the world seems to still.

You’re standing by the grand double doors, chatting with two women who appear equally elegant. But his focus is entirely on you. You’re dressed in a stunning emerald green gown that hugs your figure just right.

The strapless design accentuates your shoulders and collarbones, and the gown flows down in soft, silky waves, brushing against the floor with every slight movement. A string of delicate pearls adorns your chest, their soft sheen catching the light with each turn of your head.

Your hair is styled in a way that frames your face beautifully, soft tendrils brushing against your cheeks. The golden glow of the mansion’s lights reflects in your eyes, making them look like the night sky dotted with stars.

You smile at something one of the girls says, and that smile... it’s the kind that makes Jungkook’s heart skip a beat, the kind that could light up even the darkest of nights.

As he sits there in Yoongi’s car, rooted to his seat, he can’t help but take in your beauty. The way you carry yourself with such grace and confidence, as though you were born to belong in a setting as grand as this. Jungkook feels his throat tighten. How? How on earth had someone like him... ordinary, flawed, and a complete mess half the time, ever managed to end up with someone like you?

You’re perfect, he thinks, in every sense of the word. From the sparkle in your eyes to the way your laughter carries, soft and melodic, across the air. He feels a pang of disbelief, as though at any moment someone might tap him on the shoulder and tell him it’s all been a dream.

His hand clenches slightly against his knee as he leans back into the seat, still staring at you, unable to look away.

And like magic, your eyes meet his from across the expanse. It’s as though the crowd and the grandeur of the mansion fade into nothing, leaving just the two of you in your own world.

Your expression instantly lights up, a radiant smile spreading across your face. You excuse yourself from the two women without the slightest bit of hesitation, your steps purposeful as you make your way towards the car parked by the grand fountain.

“Oh my god, she’s coming… she’s coming here.” Jungkook mutters under his breath, panic and exhilaration twisting together in his chest. His words snap Yoongi out of his trance, but before Yoongi can even react, Jungkook is already out of the car.

“Baby... you made it.... Hi.” you say, your voice sweet and filled with warmth as you approach him. Without a second thought, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. The faint scent of your perfume envelops him, soft and comforting, and for a moment, he’s too stunned to move.

Just seconds ago, Jungkook’s mind had been a mixture of nerves and doubts, the unfamiliar surroundings and the weight of everything he’d learned earlier still pressing on him. But now, as he feels your arms around him and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest, all of that melts away.

He exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. In your embrace, the humoungous mansion, the status of those around him, and the intimidating luxury that surrounded him, no longer mattered. None of it.

Right here, right now, he feels safe. He feels like he belongs... not with the wealth, not with the prestige, but with you. It’s in the way your presence calms his racing heart, in the way your touch grounds him. With you, it feels like home.

And in that moment, he knows. No matter how out of place he might feel in this world of opulence, as long as he has you, he’ll always belong.

“Ahem.” Yoongi clears his throat, a playful glint in his eyes as he watches the two of you pull away from the hug. He stands by the side of the car, arms casually crossed, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. His gaze flicks between you and Jungkook, his eyebrows wiggling as if to silently ask... Are you going to introduce me, or what?

Jungkook’s eyes travel to Yoongi, and the subtle shift in his expression tells Yoongi that he’s caught on to the unspoken request. He gives a small, sheepish chuckle, the tension that had lingered before, now dissipating.

“Babe, this is Yoongi.” he says, his voice soft but genuine as he reaches out to encircle your waist again, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of your back. He turns his head to Yoongi with a grin. “And Yoongi… this is Y/n.”

You look at Yoongi, a warm and open smile immediately spreading across your face. You’ve only heard bits and pieces of stories about him from Jungkook, but you already have a good sense of his nature. “Yoongi, hi!” you greet him, your voice bubbling with kindness.

“Thank you so much for bringing him. I'm a little mad at you for stealing him away from me on his very first day here...” you tease, your eyes sparkling as you glance up at Jungkook. “But I still get it. I guess I’ll forgive you... only this time, though.”

Yoongi chuckles, genuinely amused by your playfulness. He raises his arms, giving a mock bow, and offers a teasing apology. “I apologize. But thank you for letting him come meet me. It was really nice catching up after all these years." he sincerely says.

You smile at the sentiment, inching closer to Jungkook as you move past the brief formality. The three of you stand for a moment, the evening breeze and the sound of the water splashing in the fountain, wrapping around you.

The conversation feels comfortable, like a warm, shared space where everyone is still figuring each other out but already enjoying the connections being made.

Then, with a sudden idea that seems to come naturally to you, you look up at Yoongi with a soft but insistent smile. “Why don’t you join us tonight? It’ll be fun.” you suggest, your tone light but sincere.

Yoongi looks like he’s about to refuse, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he opens his mouth to protest. “Oh, my god, no. It’s alright, really-”

You cut him off gently, your voice light with the promise of something easy and enjoyable. “Oh, come on. It’ll be amazing. Besides you're already here and I would feel like a horrible person if I just sent you away without an invitation. Plus, I'm pretty sure you'll find some you know in there.. so please, do come.”

Yoongi hesitates again, the pull of his curiosity and the warmth of your invitation winning him over. But deep down, he knows he’d be stupid to refuse. Why the hell wouldn’t he want to spend his evening at the Kim estate, soaking in the luxury and splendor?

“Well... if you insist…” Yoongi begins, finally giving in with a playful smirk. “I’d be honored to stay.”

Jungkook watches the exchange with a soft grin on his lips, his heart swelling with a quiet affection for you. In moments like these, it’s impossible not to marvel at how effortlessly you make everyone feel at ease.

Your ability to connect with anyone, to put people at ease with your calm demeanor and genuine interest, is one of the things he admires the most about you.

As the three of you enter the mansion, Jungkook’s eyes immediately widen at the sheer gloriousness of the place. The space is expansive, and the walls are adorned with elegant artwork, framed portraits, and intricate carvings that speak of a long history of wealth and taste.

The air smells faintly of fresh flowers and something warm, like vanilla, and the soft lighting gives the house an intimate yet sophisticated feel. He can’t help but be in awe, his footsteps slowing as he takes in the magnificent surroundings. From the grand chandeliers overhead to the tastefully arranged furniture, every corner is meticulously curated.

Suddenly, Yoongi is distracted by a familiar face in the crowd... a friend of his, evidently, who bumps into him as they walk into the entryway. "Yooooo...Yoongi, What are you doing here, dude?" the man beams, instantly dapping him up.

Yoongi’s expression shifts from casual to excited as he greets the man, and soon enough, they’re deep in conversation, his attention completely absorbed by the exchange.

Seizing the moment, you lean over to Jungkook and softly whisper. “Come on, let's leave Yoongi to catch up with his friend." you simply say.

Without giving him an opportunity to agree or protest, you take Jungkook’s hand and lead him up the grand staircase, the polished wooden steps creaking slightly beneath your heels.

The second floor seems even quieter than the first, with only the distant murmur of conversation from the living room and the lawn below. The hallway is empty, the walls lined with family portraits and antique furniture that speaks of both elegance and history.

As you walk down the long corridor, Jungkook follows quietly, his hand wrapped around yours, the warmth of your touch grounding him.

Glancing over your shoulder, you catch his gaze and flash him a playful, flirty smile. Then, with effortless grace, you turn to face him, continuing to walk backwards, your eyes never leaving his, a teasing glint dancing in them.

A comfortable silence settles between you two as your eyes take him in. He looks undeniably charming. The way the outfit fits him, accentuating his sharp features, makes your heart flutter in a way you didn’t expect.

Even though you’ve only been apart for a few hours, you’ve missed him deeply. Unable to find the right words, you let your gaze speak for you, your eyes lingering on him with warmth and admiration, as if memorizing every detail.

“Did I tell you how fucking gorgeous you look tonight?” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the stillness, and you can't help but giggle at the awe in his expression.

His eyes glint with admiration, the kind of look that makes your heart flutter in your chest. He’s not hiding his feelings, and it’s evident from the way he glances at you, his gaze tracing your figure as if trying to etch every detail into his mind.

You feel a spark ignite inside you at his words, but you manage a smile, keeping your composure as you look at him. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” you tease, your steps slowing as he steps closer, releasing your fingers from his hold as he places his hands on your waist, halting you in your tracks.

The corridor feels quieter now, the faint hum of distant chatter fading into the background as his presence fills the space. He pulls you closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “I missed you.” he murmurs, his voice low and earnest, his gaze flickering to your lips. And as though it’s second nature, he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft yet passionate kiss.

A smile curls on your lips as you kiss him back, the warmth of the moment sending a flurry of butterflies through you. You can’t understand how he always manages to have this effect on you, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“I missed you too.” you whisper as he pulls away, your eyes catching the faint shimmer of your lip gloss now smudged on his lips.

Despite the intimate moment you’ve just shared, you can’t help but laugh softly. He tilts his head in slight confusion, his brow arching adorably. Without saying a word, you take his hand again, leading him forward down the corridor.

“Come on, I want to show you my room.” you say, your voice light and eager as you guide him further into the corridor.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in eagerness as you lead him further down the corridor, past several closed doors. The silence around you both feels almost comforting, as if this is a moment just for the two of you... away from the grandiose of the house and the people downstairs. You’re aware of the weight of the space around you, but in this moment, you’re only aware of him.

“I’ve lived in this house ever since I was a baby...” you continue, your voice quiet but soft, allowing a sense of nostalgia to seep in. “After moving out to New York, the one thing I missed the most was my room.” You look up at him, your smile deepening. “So... I really just... wanted to show it to you.”

Jungkook seems struck by your words, his curiosity piqued, but you don’t elaborate further. You can tell he’s fascinated by the house... he’s seen enough of it already to know it’s not just a regular mansion, but you’re careful not to make him feel overwhelmed.

You don’t want him to think you’re bragging or showing off, not when it comes to your family’s history or the house that’s been passed down for generations. It’s always been a part of you, but you’ve always hated the idea of people seeing you through the lens of privilege.

You’ve never been the type to flaunt it, but the quiet discomfort always lingers. The fear that people will think you’re trying to distance yourself from others or act like you’re somehow above them. It’s why you’ve never told Jungkook much about your background, not in the way some people might expect. You didn’t want him to misunderstand.

As you round a corner and approach your door, Jungkook glances at you, sensing that there’s something more beneath the surface of your words. He opens his mouth to ask, but you cut him off gently with a soft smile, knowing he’ll get to know everything in time.

For now, all that matters is this moment, and as you unlock the door to your room, you can’t help but feel an odd sense of calm. You’ve never shared this part of yourself with anyone before... not like this. But with him, it feels like you’re finally letting him see all of you.

As you switch the lights on, a soft glow fills the room, instantly giving it a warm, inviting ambiance. Jungkook takes a step inside, his gaze sweeping over the delicate details that make up the space. The walls are painted in a blush pink hue, accentuated by crown molding in a creamy white tone.

The furniture matches the aesthetic, with an elegant white queen sized bed and a quilted headboard adorned with tiny, pearl-like studs.

There’s a fluffy cream rug sprawled across the polished wooden floor, and a cozy armchair tucked into the corner beside a tall bookshelf that’s overflowing with colorful novels, fashion magazines and trinkets.

The vanity table by the window catches his attention, its surface sprinkled with makeup items, a small vase of fresh flowers, and neatly arranged bottles of perfume. Above it, a mirror framed with soft golden lights reflects the subtle shimmer of the space.

The walls are brought to life with framed posters of iconic bands and celebrities, each placed thoughtfully, as though telling a story. A string of Polaroid pictures hangs on the wall near the bed, giving the room a personal, nostalgic touch.

He notices little figurines of 'Hello Kitty' on a floating shelf and a small collection of plush toys sitting in a basket near the window seat. The room feels youthful and dreamy, like stepping into a snapshot of your childhood.

Jungkook takes it all in, pausing as his eyes land on the posters and the subtle quirks that reveal glimpses of your younger self. He can’t help but imagine you here as a teenager... probably sprawled out on the bed, reading or listening to music, daydreaming about the future. The thought makes him smile, a warm fondness settling in his chest.

His thoughts are interrupted as you walk over to the vanity and pick up a picture frame, holding it up with a soft smile. “That’s me...” you say, pointing to a baby in the photo. Jungkook steps closer, curious, and his eyes fall on a little version of you, chubby-cheeked and wide-eyed. “And that... is Tae.” you continue, pointing to a young toddler that's securely holding you in his tiny arms.

Jungkook chuckles softly, leaning in to get a better look. “You still look the same.” he chuckles, his gaze shifting between the picture and you. "And Taehyung looks like he’s already ready to fight anyone who gets near you." he adds.

You laugh, gently setting the frame back down. You glance at the photo one last time, feeling a small tug of nostalgia before turning to Jungkook, who’s still looking around, clearly charmed by this intimate glimpse into your past.

"Your room is beautiful." he finally says, his voice soft with admiration as his gaze takes in the delicate details surrounding him. He can't believe he's being shown this deeply personal part of your life, and it makes him feel incredibly special.

You step forward, wrapping your arms around his neck with a tender smile. "Thank you, baby. I'm so glad I could show it to you." you say, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Just as the moment seems perfect, your expression shifts like you've suddenly remembered something crucial. "Oh my god! wait... no way... I totally forgot!!" you exclaim, breaking away from him.

Jungkook is bewildered for what feels like the hundredth time today as you grab his hand and practically drag him out of the room and down the long corridor. He's still trying to process what’s happening when you lead him back downstairs. His eyes dart around, noticing the guests still lost in their conversations, oblivious to the two of you passing by.

"I told my mom I'd introduce you to her the minute you'd arrive but… I totally forgot!" you admit hurriedly, your voice tinged with a mix of excitement and guilt as you weave through the crowd.

The words hit Jungkook like a bolt of lightning, and his eyes widen in panic. Your mom? He was going to meet your mom? Right now? No warning, no preparation? He feels a surge of anxiety bubbling up in his chest.

"Wait... wait!" he halts abruptly, tugging your hand so you’re forced to turn around and look at him in confusion. "Babe, a warning would have been nice. I need to prepare myself for this moment... this is your mom we're talking about." he breathes out, clutching his chest dramatically.

You chuckle, brushing off his concerns with ease. "Oh, come on, Kook. She's just my mom. You'll be fine, I promise." you assure, gently tugging his hand again, urging him to follow you.

Reluctantly, Jungkook lets himself be led through a side door and into what appears to be the kitchen. As soon as he steps inside, he’s overwhelmed by the bustling atmosphere. The space is alive with activity... chefs moving in synchrony, slicing, plating, and perfecting dishes with meticulous attention to the tiniest details.

The scent of freshly baked bread mingles with the aroma of roasted meat and delicate spices, creating a sensory overload.

Jungkook’s gaze darts from one end of the kitchen to the other, trying to absorb everything at once. A massive spread of colorful dishes is being prepared on a long marble countertop, and he doesn’t even know where to focus. For a moment, he forgets his nerves as he marvels at the organized chaos around him.

"Stay with me." you murmur, squeezing his hand reassuringly. But Jungkook can’t help but think about how this might be the most intimidating moment of his life... meeting your mom in the middle of what feels like a five-star culinary operation.

You glance around the bustling kitchen, scanning the scene for your mom. It doesn’t take long before you spot her back as she leans slightly towards one of the chefs, gesturing animatedly while the chef nods thoughtfully, hanging on her every word.

There’s a commanding yet sophisticated presence about her, and the sight makes a smile creep onto your lips. Without hesitation, you tug Jungkook along, your excitement bubbling over. “Mama!!” you call out, your voice cutting through the hum of the kitchen.

At first, she doesn’t respond, too engrossed in giving precise instructions about something to the chef. You don’t mind, though because you know how focused she can get when she’s in her element.

As you approach her, you release Jungkook’s hand, letting him stand beside you as he instinctively straightens his coat, smoothing the fabric nervously.

Now only a few steps away, you finally stop, waiting patiently for her to finish her instructions. Jungkook stands a little stiffly next to you, his hands clasped in front of him as he watches the exchange, silently psyching himself up for what’s coming next.

Once she finishes instructing the chef, she finally turns around, her soft features lighting up with a smile when her eyes land on you. “Y/N.” she says warmly, acknowledging you.

Her appearance is effortlessly chic, exuding an aura of power and sophistication. Dressed in a sleek, wine colored dress paired with a delicate pearl necklace and stud earrings, she looks into your eyes.

Her posture is immaculate, shoulders back, chin high, and she carries herself with an air of unshakable authority. Her eyes... sharp and piercing, hold a fierceness that can make anyone squirm under her gaze.

She’s never been the one to smile easily, and even now, her expression holds a seriousness that makes Jungkook feel like he’s being sized up before he’s even said a word.

But when her eyes shift to Jungkook, her demeanor subtly changes. The faint smile that played on her lips moments ago falters, replaced by a look of mild disapproval.

One of her eyebrows arches as she takes in the man standing beside you, and Jungkook immediately feels the weight of her scrutiny. It’s clear from the way her gaze lingers that she’s not the least bit pleased to meet him.

“Mama, this is Jungkook.” you begin sweetly, your voice light and cheerful, as if trying to bridge the gap of tension. “I told you I was bringing him.” You smile at her, radiating warmth, but it’s met with a polite but distant smile from her, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Jungkook isn’t blind to it, he can see the coldness lurking behind her expression.

“Hello.” she finally says, her tone neutral, devoid of warmth. Her words are carefully measured, making Jungkook feel like she’s already testing him.

He feels his heart rate spike, but he doesn’t let it show. With a deep breath, he bows at a perfect right angle, his voice steady as he speaks. “Hello, ma’am. I’m Jeon Jungkook.” He straightens up, his posture confident despite the nervous energy coursing through him.

He meets her fierce gaze head-on, determined to make a good impression, though her icy stare makes him feel like he’s being dissected.

You glance at Jungkook, noticing his effort, and squeeze his hand briefly before stepping closer to your mother, hoping to ease the tension.

She nods curtly as Jungkook introduces himself, her sharp eyes trailing over him from head to toe, as though she’s analyzing every detail.

"So, you're from New York?" she asks suddenly, her voice carrying an edge that makes Jungkook straighten his posture. The question catches him slightly off guard, but he quickly nods in acknowledgment.

"Yes, ma’am." he answers politely, his voice steady.

Your mother narrows her eyes slightly, a calculating look flashing across her face. "I'm sure you've noticed how different things are around here... in Korea." she says, her tone almost conversational, though there's an unmistakable undercurrent of something more. "Very different from your... western culture." she adds, the words laced with what feels like a taunt.

You shift uncomfortably, sensing the rising tension. Jungkook hesitates, unsure of how to respond, and you decide to step in. "Mama, he lived in Korea before he moved to New York..." you explain gently, trying to diffuse the situation. "I'm sure he knows how things are around here."

But your mother doesn't acknowledge your reassurance. Her piercing gaze stays fixed on Jungkook. "Your parents?" she asks next, one eyebrow raised, her expression unyielding.

Jungkook’s throat tightens as he answers, his tone polite but guarded. "My mom... she owns a café in New York." he replies, hoping to keep the answer straightforward.

Your mother’s expression barely changes, but Jungkook notices the faintest flicker of disapproval in her eyes. It’s subtle, but it cuts deep. "Ah... so it's only your mother, then?" she probes further, her voice calm but pointed.

You feel your stomach drop at her words, the implicit judgment in her tone impossible to miss. Your protective instincts kick in immediately, and before she can say anything more, you interject.

"Okay, Mama, that's enough interrogation for now..." you say, your voice cheerful but firm as you grab Jungkook’s hand. "We need to get going. Grandma is going to be here any minute now... and the party is going to start soon." you add.

Jungkook notices the way her eyes flick down to your intertwined hands, and her jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. She doesn’t say anything, though, merely nodding stiffly as she steps back.

Before the situation can escalate further, you tug Jungkook out of the kitchen and into the hallway. As soon as you’re out of your mother's sight, you stop and turn to him, your expression apologetic.

"I am so so so sorry for that." you say quickly, your eyes scanning his face. You can see how pale he looks, the color drained from his cheeks. The conversation clearly rattled him, and it breaks your heart.

"I don’t know why she was acting like that." you continue, your voice softening as you place a comforting hand on his cheek. "I’m really sorry, baby. That wasn’t fair to you."

Jungkook exhales slowly, feeling the warmth of your palm against his skin. He hates how unsettled he feels, the subtle but unmistakable judgment in your mother’s eyes still gnawing at him.

He’s not naive, he knows exactly what her words and looks implied. But he doesn’t want to burden you with his feelings, so he forces a small smile and shrugs.

"Please... don’t apologize." he says gently, his voice calm but distant. "She’s your mother. I get why she’d question me like that... I’m dating her daughter, after all." he reasons.

His attempt to brush it off doesn’t fool you, but you decide not to push him. Instead, you give his cheek a small caress, hoping to soothe him.

Sensing the heaviness lingering between you, Jungkook shifts the conversation. "Anyways... don’t we have a tea party to get to?" he asks with a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood despite the war in his mind.

You know he’s deflecting, choosing not to dwell on the interaction with your mother. So you let him, offering him a gentle smile in return. "We do." you reply softly, squeezing his hand. "Come on, let’s go."

As Jungkook trails behind you, the weight in his chest feels almost suffocating, each step amplifying the unease swirling in his mind.

Three weeks... that’s how long he’s going to be here for. The thought echoes in his head, heavier with every repetition.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to endure it, not when your mother’s piercing gaze feels like it sees right through him, layered with unspoken judgments that cut deeper than words ever could.

The very idea looms ahead, an uphill battle he isn’t sure he’s equipped to fight, yet one he knows he cannot avoid.

<- part 1 // part3 ->

taglist: @mirinaeii @taetaecatboy (lmk if u want to be added <3)

#jungkook fic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts fic #enemies to lovers #jungkook fanfiction #crazy rich asians

243 notes · View notes

thankskenpenders · 1 year ago

Text

Amy's fortune cards

The Sonic fandom has long been the kind of fandom that takes minor details very seriously, for better or worse. On the one hand, this means fans will really dig for the diamonds in the rough, latching onto fun character interactions, animations, bits of background worldbuilding, and more in pieces of Sonic media that many would write off as "the bad ones." But it also feels like every week another needlessly hostile debate over Sonic minutia erupts on Twitter, whether it's over individual lines of dialogue, fanart that makes Tails' shoes blue, or the ideal length and volume for Sonic's quills.

So it was probably inevitable that a fandom-wide debate would erupt upon seeing Amy's new gameplay style in the DLC for Sonic Frontiers, which takes the once-obscure fact that she enjoys reading tarot and shines a spotlight on it like never before.

I mean:

The thing is, while I basically always try to tune out Sonic fandom bickering... for once, I kind of sympathize with the detractors? Don't get me wrong, I like Amy's tarot stuff, and people on all sides of the discussion are being overly nasty about their opinions, as usual. (Sonic Twitter remains my personal hell.) But when I set aside the hyperbole and zoom out, I do think I understand why some fans are put off by the sudden shift in focus for the character, even if I think it's cool.

It's complicated. Let me attempt to present the cases for and against Amy's fortune cards

For years, I was always one of those fans who thought it could be fun if they played with Amy's tarot reading, or even leaned into some kind of magic with her. Part of that is my own biases showing, but there's just something that makes sense there, especially when you look at Sonic, Tails, and Amy as a trio. (I would argue that's the real "Team Sonic" these days, especially in the comics where Knuckles is more likely to be stuck on Angel Island or otherwise doing his own thing.)

You could argue that Tails is all about logic, relying on science and technology and deductive reasoning to solve problems. But Amy is all about emotion. She wears her heart on her sleeve, is extremely empathetic, and is very prone to magical thinking - both figuratively and sometimes literally. Her origin story has always been that her tarot cards told her it was her destiny to meet Sonic on Little Planet. She's claimed to be able to "sense" peoples' presences - particularly Sonic's. She's the type to believe that The Power of Love is a literal magical force. So, on some level, it makes sense to mirror Tails's science by having Sonic's other best friend believe in magic. And then Sonic is somewhere in the middle, primarily following his own gut instincts but taking advice from both of them as needed. This isn't totally accurate to how their dynamics actually function in canon stories, but I think it's a mode that could work for them.

Going off of that, it's fun to lean all the way into Amy being a magical girl, or even a witch, using her fortune telling as a foundation. Take, for example, this version of Amy from Diana Skelly's old Sonic cast redesigns from before she freelanced for Archie and IDW. This is one of MANY such redesigns for Amy.

Fast forward to the 2020s, and Amy's tarot cards are, in fact, finally getting brought up again in canon. Which is fun! I like seeing that. I like all of the individual stories involving Amy's fortune cards. This is a fun character trait for Amy, a fun nod to old lore, AND a fun storytelling device, all in one. It's really cool that the Sonic universe has its own thematically appropriate arcana, and that the cards are getting made as physical merch. And sure enough, the official card backs and borders were designed by none other than Diana Skelly, in yet another cool example of an ascendant fan leaving their mark on the series.

BUT... when you step back and look at the big picture, I get why some fans find this shift in focus jarring. At the moment, it's starting to feel like every new story about Amy involves her fortune cards to some degree.

The most recent mainline comic arc to feature Amy as the lead character, 2021's Trial by Fire arc, prominently features a sequence where she reads fortunes while camping with the girls. The Origins version of Sonic CD now bookends the game with scenes of Amy and her tarot cards. Sonic randomly mentioned it in a scene in Frontiers. And now, just this week, we got the (very cute, gorgeously illustrated) Amy's 30th Anniversary comic with a story revolving around Amy's tarot cards, followed the very next day by the Frontiers DLC in which she gets a brand new tarot-based moveset. Even her base melee attack now has her throwing tarot cards instead of swinging her hammer. Again, I like all of these individual things, but after years of it almost never coming up at all, it's VERY noticeable that Amy's tarot cards are suddenly everywhere.

To be fair, I'm looking at this from the perspective of a superfan who's actively following ALL Sonic media. Casual fans - especially kids - aren't necessarily going to be reading the comics every month, buying the thousandth rerelease of the Genesis games, or playing the ultra-hard new alternate ending DLC for a game that came out last year. Each of these stories is going to be someone's introduction to the idea that Amy can read tarot, and that's probably part of the idea behind this unified push.

But to play devil's advocate, for my fellow superfans, I understand why it feels like a very minor footnote of Amy's character is suddenly becoming the entire focus of her personality. While Amy has always been said to enjoy fortune telling, that wasn't really a character trait in and of itself, but rather an example of her being a typical girl who hopes she'll be able to find true love one day. It's less that Amy can literally predict the future and more like her using a cootie catcher or going "he loves me, he loves me not" while picking the petals off of a flower. So I get not vibing with this stuff, or feeling like it's being pushed very hard out of nowhere.

What I don't agree with are comparisons like "it's like if they made Knuckles' moveset revolve around him liking grapes." Like, I get it. Ian Flynn loves shoehorning in his little winking references for us nerds, and mentions of Amy's tarot cards were previously on the same level as other random bullet points from old Japanese manuals. But a multifaceted hobby like fortune telling that opens up so many narrative and aesthetic possibilities is obviously very different from having a favorite food. It's ALWAYS been a part of her story, not just a random fact, and there's no reason why the fortune telling can't be elevated to something more.

And, hell, even if it wasn't an established character trait, there's nothing inherently wrong with injecting new ideas into a character. One of the best Amy stories in recent years, the Free Comic Book Day special "Amy's New Hobby" written by Gale Galligan, came up with the idea that Amy's secretly been drawing little comics about her and her friends. Is this based on Lore? No. But it's cute, and helps tell the story of a younger Amy who's still coming out of her shell as both a hero and a friend.

Certain fans are also looking at Amy's Frontiers moveset and using it as evidence that once again the Vile American Contributors like Ian are CORRUPTING Sonic Team's perfect vision of Sonic with their misinterpretations. And like. Come on. Ian does not control the gameplay. He's a freelance writer. The tarot stuff is clearly something that Sonic Team likes if they made it the basis of Amy's new moveset - and, you know, if they keep approving comics and animations about Amy's fortune telling. None of this gets made without their blessing, and lord knows how much they can micromanage shit and shoot down ideas over the most minor of details.

Like, yeah, Amy's fortune telling was probably conceived less as a sign that she Knows Magic and more as a pretty mundane hobby for a lovesick young Japanese girl to have. But you're gonna sit there and tell me that using Amy's tarot cards for more than that could only be the result of a cultural misunderstanding? That nobody in Japan uses tarot card theming and aesthetics (or the general idea of magical cards) for the cool factor? Stardust Crusaders? Persona? The Astrologian class in FFXIV? Cardcaptor Sakura?? Hello??? Do you think Capcom put Gambit in Marvel vs. Capcom ironically because they thought using magic to throw cards at people was stupid? There's tons of precedent for this! It's nothing like Knuckles throwing grapes at people, be for real.

Giving Amy a very magical girl-esque moveset also just makes a lot of sense. For decades her hammer attacks have literally made sparkly heart shapes appear around her. Leaning into both that and her tarot cards in her new moveset makes a lot of sense to me.

But, admittedly... I do think it's very odd that her hammer is treated as a secondary element here, rather than having her primarily use her hammer and adding the cards for extra flair. If hitting the attack button made her swing her hammer instead of throwing cards, I'm not sure we'd even be having this discussion right now.

But the tarot-cycle and Amy riding her hammer like a witch's broom are fucking SICK and I will not concede on this point

The thing is, this whole fortune card discourse is but a small piece of a bigger problem. Amy's been a character who needed some work for ages, but there's basically nothing you can do with her without pissing SOMEONE off.

Years of stories where Amy's crush was her primary motivator and Sonic went "Ew, cooties!" have lead many casual fans to believe that being Sonic's obsessive fangirl is Amy's entire personality. At best people might call her Sonic's Minnie Mouse. This isn't just a matter of Amy having haters within the fandom - venture outside of that bubble and you'll realize that this is how MOST video game playing people seem to see her to this day. I don't feel like this is a fair assessment of the character, but this idea didn't come from nowhere. No matter how much good deeply entrenched Sonic fans may see in their old dynamic where Amy perpetually chases Sonic, this is a very real problem that Sonic Team has to contend with for their leading girl. Of course all those games where the way-past-cool protagonist thought Amy was annoyingly clingy and tried to get away from her made people think less of her.

If new stories were to go back to emphasizing Amy's crush on Sonic a little more, they'd probably be taken as confirmation that Amy's just the girl with a crush on Sonic and that this is her entire personality. Conversely, when the crush is played down, you piss off the hardcore SonAmy fans who don't seem to understand that they're Charlie Brown and Sega is Lucy holding the football. You can't win.

And so here we are. In the absence of what was once her defining trait, now reduced to an occasional blush or wink in Sonic's direction, new stories are trying to mine Amy's past for additional material to work with. Having been a thing fans wanted to see for years, right now we're getting a lot of tarot, but we're also getting reminders of her compassionate nature and her desire to go out of her way to help the little guy. This is an ongoing process. I continue to hope that her bubbly, exuberant demeanor can shine more in future stories. Now, I also hope that the tarot stuff gets balanced out a little better with other traits of hers. But I don't want it to go away. I think it's fun.

This course correcting is far from exclusive to Amy. Knuckles is getting stories that remind us that he's a competent fighter, an experienced treasure hunter, and even a self-taught archaeologist after years of him being perceived as either the dumb one or just the guy who stands in front of the Master Emerald all day. And Tails has been getting some stories reminding folks that he's a capable hero in his own right and not just Sonic's timid kid sidekick.

But no supporting character will ever compete with the sheer number of new ideas Sega has tried with Sonic himself. Like Amy, his Frontiers moveset has also given him half a dozen new superpowers that he never had before, from the Cyloop to air-slicing projectile attacks to his own take on Shadow Clone Jutsu and beyond. He's also been a hoverboarder, a swordsman, a time traveler, an Olympic athlete, a racecar driver, cursed with a Flame of Judgment, imbued with alien power, a fucking Werehog with stretchy powers, and on and on and on.

If Sonic can do all that, Amy can try out using a tarot-cycle.

Anyway TL;DR the REAL problem with Amy's current characterization... is where the FUCK is Amy's bestie, Honey the Cat???????

#tkp post

1K notes · View notes

oceanwithouthermoon · 1 month ago

Text

okok let me finally do my analysis on kusuke and makoto parallels like ive talked about a thousand times (obvious warning that im gonna talk about incest, and also that im gonna be talking about a gag manga in a serious light so if that upsets you just go away ✌️)... yippee, perverted older brothers with unhealthy dynamics with their powerful younger siblings analysis!!

the most obvious parallel is in their interactions with the others sibling. they literally have the same exact meeting, they both go from being fake nice to "my sibling is special and youre not worthy of them"

not included in pictures but also note that kusuo got rid of makoto by calling on kokomi and kokomi got rid of kusuke by calling on her fans

"the second hes distracted, LETS GO"

"we're the only ones who can match up to each other"

kusukes idea of kusuo being inhuman also influences the way this is treated i think- he tells kokomi that marrying a beautiful man will suit her best and that kusuo is above that kind of thing (aka actual romantic and aesthetic attraction), and it seems that being the only ones who can measure up to each other is probably the closest, in his eyes, that kusuo can get to love (confirmed in my opinion by the marriage/engagement symbolism a few pictures down⬇️). thats why he thinks theyre the only ones worthy of each other even if he doesnt see kusuo in the exact same way as makoto sees kokomi. if that makes any sense :p these are obviously already parallel on surface level, but id say theyre even more similar if you look deeply into it

"i know everything youre thinking" and "everyone else looks like monkeys to me"

associating their sibling with heaven/god

a certain fixation on their sibling's body... top two are specifically them trying to see their sibling naked without consent

? not sure how to describe this. implications of engagement/marriage? this use of an explicitly romantic symbol actually confuses me in kusukes case but thats not really relevant here...

theyre the reason their sibling cant relax or be themself even at home... also note that kusuo specifically says that kusuos masochism (which i guess in some contexts masochism can be non-sexual but in this situation, since kusuke is canonically a pervert and there are several implications and allusions to sexual pleasure, it obviously means he gets SEXUAL pleasure from pain/humiliation) is the main reason he doesnt like him. likewise, kokomi is bothered by makotos overprotective and overbearing nature, though unfortunately she doesnt seem to be aware of his sister complex and thinks hes just being an annoying big brother.

not necessarily something that can be captured in a picture but theres also the fact that they both have pretty perfect lives but are still obsessed with their sibling and only their sibling, its all they really care about and their entire lives depend on them.

makoto is extremely attractive, charming when hes trying to be, and is a famous actor... he clearly gets girls. but he doesnt want any of them because hes stuck in his obsession with kokomi, shes the only girl he wants and its ruined his perception of other girls. he believes hes the only one that can be right for kokomi and touch her, and that likewise kokomi is the only girl he can be with. her presence dictates his life, he skips work just to follow her around and prevent her from getting involved with other guys. we only see maybe a few sentences from him where he isnt talking about kokomi, even when hes on tv.

kusuke is an attractive and charming genius, easily pulls girls, cambridge graduate, and is the favorite child in his family. but none of that matters, it only sets him apart from other humans and gives him a skewed perspective of anyone who isnt kusuo. he believes kusuo is the only person he can get that sadomasochistic pleasure from, and kusuo is the reason he developed it in the first place and he specifically seeks him out and coerces him into it. he really only cares about his family, theyre the only people in the world that are worth anything in his eyes, and his only interactions with anyone else have been using them as tools to get to kusuo. his life goal is (or was, before the end of cat tank arc) defeating kusuo. he has cameras in his familys house that hes presumably constantly watching, implied by him being ALREADY watching before his parents even called him about kusuos limiter.

#this was one of the most obviously intentional things i noticed when watching for the first time #so i was shocked that people dont see it #'stop comparing kusuke and makoto theyre nothing alike!!' my brother in christ theyre literally written to be compared #the main difference i think is that kusuke sees kusuo more sexually and makoto sees kokomi more romantically #obviously theres both in each but one outweighs the other #yeahhhhhhhhhhh #i actually really would like to know what kusuke planned to do after failing in cat tank arc before kusuo gave him another chance that he-#wasnt expecting. like he failed at his life goal and didnt even expect kusuo to still want him around. but thats a whole other conversation #anyway idk if im missing stuff this was half finished in my drafts for a long time and i kept forgetting about it #ok thats all #saiki k #tdlosk #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki kusuo #saiki kusuke #teruhashi kokomi #teruhashi makoto #meows post #incest cw #meownalysis

119 notes · View notes

kiwi-on-ice · 6 months ago

Text

Outfits (on you) preference headcannons with Ashe, Moira, Sombra, Kiriko and Junker Queen with fem!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: smut 18+, both sfw and nsfw variations, dom/sub dynamics present, filming, slight petplay

Notes: i love women <3 Wanted to write something small to say thank you all so much for 200 followers! I'm blown away, thank you all for giving me so much support on my filthy little hobby.

Ashe:

Anything she’s bought you.

Ashe herself likes to dress in a way that shows she’s in charge, that shows she’s the leader of a dangerous gang. So when she starts dating you, she’s able to dress you up in all the ways she can’t dress

You’re her pretty doll, to be dressed up and twirled for her enjoyment.

If you have a specific style, she’ll use her wealth to get you the best and most expensive items of clothing that match you.

However if you don’t? Well she’ll have to just do you up all pretty won’t she? She’ll get the finest dresses and skirts (some that perhaps are a little too short), as well as lavish and expensive jewellery that matches.

She’ll love to have you try on the clothes she buys you, giving her a twirl so she can observe from all angles.

Anything that shows your thighs she’ll love, getting to fondle them when you both sit together. It’s her little way of showing that you’re hers.

Nsfw:

So when she said she’ll buy you the prettiest and most expensive clothes, lingerie is 100% included in that.

She’ll always come back from her travels with a pretty box, inside being a lingerie set she thinks will just look perfect on you.

Any colour that takes her fancy, although she has a certain penchant for red. The way it matches her lipstick really riles her up, so her kiss marks will match the delicious lace. But also when you both are in public, and she knows you both are matching in…less that obvious ways.

Although the reason she keeps buying you more and more is due to her impatience; there’s been several beautiful sets she’s ruined by tearing them off or stretching them in the throes of passion.

Other than lingerie, it comes back to skirts again. Don’t be surprised if when you both are intimate, she may take your skirt off last. Or perhaps leave it on, have you bouncing on her strap while the cute little skirt ripples and moves.

Moira:

A simple woman, she likes the items of clothing you might not expect.

She’s a fan of when you wear comfy clothes, like an oversized shirt that’s too big for you, so it ends around your thighs. Bonus if it’s her shirt; and especially bonus if it clings to your thighs while being a little baggy in other areas.

Although she’s also a very big fan of nightgowns. The more ‘feminine’ the better, especially if they’re quite old fashioned.

She finds them exquisite and quite refined, loving the way you look in them. Especially if she comes home from the lab late, seeing you peacefully in bed wearing a nightgown. White would be her favourite colour of them, however a red one would certainly have her mind racing.

Additionally, if you wear her lab coat…especially in her lab? Her face is heating up a little.

Nsfw:

If you’re wearing a button up, she’ll make you take it off for her. She’s a fan of you ‘performing’ for her, putting on a show. So she’ll make you slowly undo each button, revealing yourself slowly for her hungry eyes.

She’s also a fan of skirts, although unlike Ashe, they’re coming off first. Especially while you’re bent over so she can spank you and watch the handprints form.

Moira is also a pretty wealthy woman now that she’s getting her funding from…less than legal sources, with most of her income just going back into her research. So she’ll most likely give you some money to get yourself ‘something pretty’, and let you loose in a lingerie store so you can get something to show her later that night.

Although her one dirty secret she’s never shared is that the idea of you in a maid dress is…tempting. She isn’t sure why this particular fantasy of hers is one she’s reluctant to tell you, but maybe she’ll let it slip one night while her fingers are deep inside of you.

Sombra:

Another woman who likes to buy you things.

She’ll hack into your wish lists to see what clothes you like, and then get them and act like she just guessed (after a while you catch on, but don’t tell her, it’s more fun for her this way).

Honestly I think she’d love to see you in purple, wants you both to match.

Although I think she would also love an alt girl, with fishnets, chains, dark tones, you name it.

Will insist on being the one to pull up your tights or stockings or long socks, thinks its intimate, and will most likely press a kiss to wherever the garment ends.

Loves loves LOVES to see you in jeans, thinks they make your legs and ass look delicious.

Especially if you attach a chain to it, she'll love tugging on it to bring you closer and give you a kiss.

Nsfw:

she'll definitely love you dressing up in outfits made especially for sex.

her particular favourites are maid dresses and Halloween costumes (think sexy cat and sexy devil)

Due to her predilection for filming you, the costumes just make you look more stunning for her eyes and the camera lens.

She'll love to project the footage of you onto the wall to tease you, making you watch your body writhe and shake at her touch while you wear an embarrassing outfit.

Other than costumes, lingerie works for her too. Her particular favourite colour is purple (obvs)

She also loves lace bodysuits on you, adores the feeling of them under her fingertips as she runs her fingers up and down your waist.

Kiriko:

She loves fashion, so she'll adore a s/o that loves it too!

Definitely the type to want to share clothes, but if you aren't the same size as her don't worry, she'll just get two sizes of all the clothes she buys.

Really loves a y2k/streetwear style on a girl, especially the cool jackets. The type to have pinterest moodboards of the types of fashion for both you and herself.

Would steal your jackets constantly and wear them, getting to feel like she's yours.

And 100% loves it if you match her energy and steal hers too, makes her feel all giddy when she sees you wearing her jacket in public.

Also would love a partner who wears a lot of rings, you'll find her fiddling with them when you hold her hand.

Nsfw:

any outfit that you wear that shows your bra, whether it be a see-through top or an of the shoulder one where the strap is exposed, gets her going.

Definitely would love to snap the bra strap against your skin to tease you, especially in public.

She adores roleplaying, so anything where you both get to wear costumes.

Whether you're dressed as a sexy nurse , or a police officer or even a sexy secretary, she'll love it.

Will try and keep most of your costumes on in those scenarios.

Also loves it when you wear jeans, so she can grind herself on your thigh and feel the denim.

Junker Queen:

She's a strong and fiery woman, with an equally strong and edgy fashion sense. So to her, she'll love it if you dressed...dainty.

Is interested in the dichotomy, seeing you in the prettiest and most pastel dresses and tops and skirts and cute thigh high socks while she sits on her throne in her black denim and metal armour.

Loves anything floral on you.

Also loves texture, hence why she loves lace. She'll enjoy anything that feels interesting to her touch as she runs her strong hands over you.

But nothing beats your bare skin in her eyes, so if you're wearing a dress, skirt or shorts, you better have nothing preventing her from feeling and squeezing your bare thigh.

In that regard, she'll also love you to wear something off the shoulder too, so she can see your collarbones.

Nsfw:

Listen she's a simple woman when it comes to her desire for you, so nothing beats you being naked.

You'd try to wear the cutest lingerie sets but it wouldn't matter, she'd have them ripped off in seconds.

Always would complain, if it were up to her you simply wouldn't wear anything under your clothes (or anything in general).

However, that all changes when she first sees a playboy bunny outfit.

Something about it ignites a fire in her, and immediately she's getting you one.

Seeing the silly bunny ears on your head, the tights, the bodysuit, she wants you so badly it hurts. The vision of you on your knees in front of her, looking up at her like her own little pet, her own little rabbit.

If you do wear it, you'll create a monster...so good luck.

205 notes · View notes

blue-mint-winter · 6 months ago

Text

About Alyssa Targaryen

Alyssa Targaryen, daughter of Jaehaerys and Alysanne and mother of king Viserys I and Daemon the Rogue Prince, is a character recently talked about due to her brief appearance in the TV show. The fan opinions about her seem strangely very positive. She's seen as a cool character and a good mother to her sons, because she took them dragonriding soon after giving birth. In relation to her younger sisters Alyssa is also seen as the better one or lucky for having a happy marriage with her brother and avoiding a more tragic fate. Certainly she's regarded as the most successful among the daughters of Alysanne because her descendants continued the dynasty. I've seen opinions that Jaehaerys and Alysanne only failed as parents to their younger children (from Daella and younger), who caused many problems, but they raised the older ones - Aemon, Baelon, Alyssa, Maegelle and Vaegon - to become good and decent people. There are also voices that she's just another dead mother, her character is uninteresting/unimportant compared to other sisters and she only exists in the story to have sex and birth future main characters.

After I read about Alyssa in Fire and Blood I found that all of the above opinions feel distinctly off the mark, especially in regards to her good character. Alyssa came off to me as rather unpleasant, mean and obssessed with sex, however the in-universe book's author, maester Gyldayn, doesn't portray any of her bad qualities as bad or undesirable in a princess, while at the same time he's very critical of her sisters' displaying similar faults.

Instead Gyldayn's portrayal of Alyssa focuses on showing her as a good sisterwife to Baelon and mother to Viserys and Daemon. That's what maester Gyldayn and Jaehaerys' propaganda want the readers to think about Alyssa while at the same time telling them that she was the most unfeminine woman she could be. That creates a powerful dissonance while reading about her as compared to others.

This post will be an analysis of Alyssa, her role in the family built on incest and how it affected her and her siblings, her relationships with focus on Baelon and Vaegon, her behaviour and causes of it, her effect on her siblings before and after her death. There will be some extrapolation and theorizing, but I hope it's within reason and will make a coherent argument that Alyssa wasn't like what Gyldayn presents her or what many fans think she was. So buckle up, this will be a long one.

Alyssa's role in the family

Alyssa is the second daughter, but she was born after Daenerys died (in the end of the same year, 60 AC), so functionally she's the eldest daughter, but the shadow of Daenerys hangs over her. Alyssa was her replacement in her mother's eyes until Alysanne realized when Alyssa was 6 years old that she didn't take after Daenerys, but Baelon. From a young age Alyssa preferred boy activities and didn't want to spend time with other girls.

The princess did not act like a girl, however. She wore boy’s clothes when she could, shunned the company of other girls, preferred riding and climbing and dueling with wooden swords to sewing and reading and singing, and refused to eat porridge.

One fundamental, glaring difference between young Daenerys and Alyssa was exactly the type of sibling dynamic they had with Aemon and Baelon. Daenerys was their older sister, a little queen and she was bossing them around.

The young princes loved their sister to distraction, it was plain to see, and Daenerys delighted in the boys, “especially in telling them what to do.”

Alyssa was the younger sister who was seeking her big brother's attention. She trailed after Baelon and, as it turns out later, she never really stopped.

Just as Baelon had once followed Aemon everywhere, Alyssa trailed after Baelon. “Like a puppy,” the Spring Prince complained. Baelon was two years younger than Aemon, Alyssa nearly four years younger than him…“and a girl,” which made it far worse in his eyes.

At this point in their lives she was just an annoying younger sister to Baelon.

Daenerys was a leader of her brothers, Alyssa - their follower. Even in the role of the older sister Alyssa was nothing like Daenerys. She wasn't a leader to her own younger siblings, instead she spurned them and stayed distant from them. It's also mentioned 3 times in the book that Daenerys told her pregnant mother that she wanted a younger sister. Alyssa reacted in an opposite way to Deanerys - she didn't want anything to do with her younger sister Maegelle and refused her company.

A gentle, selfless, and sweet-natured girl, and exceedingly bright, she soon attached herself to her sister Alyssa in much the same way that Prince Baelon had attached himself to Prince Aemon, though not entirely as happily. Now it was Alyssa’s turn to bristle at having “the baby” clinging to her skirts. She evaded her as best she could, and Baelon laughed at her fury.

Alyssa's shunning of other girls and having interest in boys' activities sets her apart from her sister. Maybe it was a result of young Alyssa wanting to be different in her mother's eyes than the dead sister she never knew. Probably she just wanted to spend time playing with her brothers so she emulated them. Also, she could have noticed their close bond to their father and tried to earn his love and approval by being like them. It is noticeable that, after losing Daenerys, Jaehaerys was less involved with raising his new children.

On the surface level, it's assumed that Alyssa is just another Arya-type, but I think she has a lot more in common with Cersei in her characteristics and relationships, even though her physical description (mismatched eyes - violet and green, crooked nose after an injury) is reminiscent of Tyrion. Perhaps Alyssa's description is meant to highlight that she's Lannister-coded.

Does the parallel between Alyssa and Cersei foreshadow a similar contrast between Cersei and Daenerys Stormborn in the future books? Perhaps Daenerys will be bossing around both Jaime and Tyrion like her namesake did with Aemon and Baelon.

Alysanne and Jaehaerys announced the betrothals of their older children in 68 AC. That's when it was decided that Alyssa will not take Daenerys' place as Aemon's wife. Instead, Alysanne planned to recreate her own relationship with Jaehaerys by deciding to marry their second son to second/eldest living daughter.

“Alyssa is for Baelon,” she declared. “She has been following him around since she could walk. They are as close as you and I were at their age.”

So a 7 year old Alyssa is told by her mother that she will marry Baelon, her favourite brother, that she's meant for him. That sounds similar to Cersei's belief how she was one with Jaime, that they belonged to each other. Cersei also switched with Jaime, pretending to be him to go to swordplay lessons. Only difference is that Alyssa was encouraged to pursue a romantic relationship with her brother, while Cersei was separated from Jaime and had to keep the affair secret. Alyssa was raised to be her brother's sisterwife and giving him children was the only expectation placed on her by her parents.

The Vaegon Incident

Another similarity between Alyssa and Cersei is that they tormented their little brothers. When I read about the incident with Alyssa pouring wine on Vaegon, I thought it was rather mean and too much. He only said something insensitive to Daella. But one incident of Alyssa being mean can be excused because she defended their younger sister. On the other hand, when she tomented him again, I had to take notice:

One day, mayhaps in an attempt to spur Vaegon into making more of an effort, he brought his sister Alyssa to the yard, shining in man’s mail. The princess had not forgotten the incident of the Arbor gold. Laughing and shouting mockery, she danced around her little brother and humiliated him half a hundred times, whilst Princess Daella looked down from a window. Shamed beyond endurance, Vaegon threw down his sword and ran from the yard, never to return.

Alyssa was 14 and Vaegon was 11. He was training with Baelon for a year at the insistence of their father. The maester claims that Alyssa humiliated Vaegon so badly because of something he'd said a year ago and she'd already punished him for? Either it's true and Alyssa holds grudges like Cersei or... she just hated Vaegon. And I think it wasn't really because of Daella.

Let's rewind to the pouring wine on Vaegon incident.

“I would never marry her,” the boy said, in front of half the court. “She can barely read. She should find some lord in need of stupid children, for that’s the only sort he will ever have of her.” Princess Daella, as might be expected, burst into tears and fled the hall, with her mother, the queen, rushing after her. It fell to her sister Alyssa, at thirteen three years Vaegon’s elder, to pour a flagon of wine over his head. Even that did not make the prince repent. “You are wasting Arbor gold,” was all he said before stalking from the hall to change his clothing.

Notice that Alyssa pours wine on him, but she doesn't say anything like "this is for Daella" or "how could you say that to her". It's only maester Gyldayn's conjecture that she was defending her sister (in his efforts to paint Alyssa as the good one among her sisters and completely unlike the simple-minded, promiscous or vain and ambitious ones). Alyssa and Daella weren't close, Alyssa had no interest in hanging out with her sisters and Daella was scared of her.

Her sister Maegelle became her guiding star, and she worshipped her mother, the queen, but her sister Alyssa seemed to terrify her.

To further prove that the close sibling bond between Alyssa and Daella just didn't exist and was entirely imagined by Gyldayn, let's move on to later years. Daella died in childbirth in 82 AC, I wonder what was Alyssa's take on that if she was such a sister protector and she had her own dragon? Rhaena flew on Dreamfyre and threatened Rogar when her mother, Alyssa Velaryon, died in childbirth and that woman robbed her of the crown. There was a huge rift between Rhaena and her mother for many years and she still came to her mother's deathbed and was deeply affected by her loss. I don't hear anything about Alyssa taking Meleys to the Vale to avenge Daella. Most probably she didn't care that much about Daella. Notice how we never hear anything about her ever interacting with her sisters except that she didn't like Maegelle trailing after her when they were little. Even the so-called defense of Daella happens without Daella being present. Was it really about her at all or was Alyssa just dunking on Vaegon because she had a good pretext? I think the answer is obvious.

If defending Daella wasn't the motivation for the first Vaegon incident then what could have caused Alyssa to lash out at him?

I think it was because Vaegon rebelled against the sibling marriage that was forced on him by their parents.

“Be sweet to your little sister,” King Jaehaerys told the prince when he was five. “One day she will be your Alysanne.”

So Vaegon was told that he's meant for Daella, just like Alyssa is meant for Baelon, but unlike Alyssa, he protested the match and he made sure that everyone knew about it. Gyldayn did say that Vaegon was no coward. It was certainly brave of the boy to defy their parents' will in a public setting. Alyssa never did anything like that. To be fair, Gyldayn never mentioned what was Alyssa's reaction to her betrothal to Baelon. As a child, she might not have understood what it really meant and just agreed. He was her favourite brother after all. In Vaegon's case things were different as he and Daella disliked each other. On Baelon's side of things, he was too dutiful to Alysanne to refuse the match.

At the time of the first Vaegon incident Alyssa is 13, she's older and she understands more about what marriage to Baelon means for her. Maybe she wishes she protested it when she had a chance and now it's too late and she's jealous that Vaegon got to refuse Daella. Maybe she's already so indoctrinated into believing sibling incest is their destiny as Targaryens that she wants to "correct" Vaegon for rebelling against their entire system of belief. What's worse, he wasn't punished for his defiance and forced to marry Daella anyway, but instead he got his way. Alysanne listened to him and convinced Jaehaerys to search for a different, unrelated bride for Vaegon. And Alyssa probably knew that Alysanne was never going to call off the marriage to Baelon.

What's interesting is that first Vaegon incident happens same year that Baelon is knighted, receives Dark Sister and claims Vhagar. Baelon gets the holy insignia and is the new Visenya of his generation. Baelon, not Alyssa, the tomboy who likes swordfighting, who is a Targaryen, a future sisterwife raised on the story of the Conquest. Even if it's not outright said in the text, Alyssa probably idolizes Visenya (like Arya did) and wants to be like her. Aemon will be a king like Aegon, Baelon took the spot of Visenya and all Alyssa has left is to be their Rhaenys and become a mother (also she will like sex in a marriage of love with her brother and die early like Rhaenys). And in fact, her son Viserys became the next king and was similar to Aenys. I wonder if Baelon's knighting happens before or after the first Vaegon incident. In any case, Baelon just took tomboy Alyssa's dream away from her and it will affect her future actions. He's not even a girl and he gets to be Visenya. Just how frustrated and angry Alyssa must be? And who she's going to take it out on? Maybe the younger brother she hates and can bully without any consequences?

After the first incident Vaegon was forced to train with Baelon and spend time with him for a year, but the yard incident was the first time Alyssa was included despite how much she loved training swordplay in her younger days. I'm going to assume that at 13-14 and knowing she'll marry at 15, Alyssa wasn't allowed to train anymore (or her time in the yard was greatly reduced) and instead she was forced into princess/wife lessons, learning to do things she always despised doing (like Cersei). So she sees Vaegon, getting to spend time with Baelon, her favourite brother (is he still her favourite at this point? well, she has no one else she's close to), doing things she likes doing and having absolutely miserable time of it. Alyssa must have been pissed - Vaegon gets to live her dream life at the moment and he dares to complain, he dares to dislike it. She'd kill to be in his position. She's just boiling with anger and envy. If only she was the third son, she wouldn't be forced to play her brother's perfect little bride. She could be just one of the boys and their relationship would remain as it was, uncomplicated. Maybe if she beats Vaegon, it would show everyone that she's better than him, better at being a son. Maybe her parents would realize it and something would finally change.

And of course nothing changed and she was cruel to her little brother for nothing. That's why I called the parallel to Arya rather surface, she never did anything like that to Bran or Rickon, while Cersei's hatred of Tyrion is well-documented. Also, both Vaegon and Tyrion are the bookish younger brothers with no real interest or ability to be warriors. No one defends them from their sisters, not even their parents.

Baelon completes the reenactment of the Lannister sibling dynamic because just like Jaime, he is complicit in the humiliation and traumatizing of his little brother (Vaegon - yard incident, Tyrion - Tysha incident). He brought in Alyssa, he made it happen. I wonder if Jaehaerys told him to do it, like Tywin did with Jaime. It would certainly make sense as Jaehaerys wanted Vaegon to toughen up, so using Alyssa to "motivate" him (train harder, a boy can't be beaten by a girl) could have been his idea all along.

It seems that Alyssa is the answer to the question "what-if Cersei was a Targaryen". And we know Cersei is not a good person at all. There's no evidence in text that Alyssa was a good person beyond her role as Baelon's wife. On the contrary, her treatment of Vaegon, furious rejection of Maegelle's company and non-existent relationship with Daella, who was scared of Alyssa, all prove that she wasn't a good sister to her younger siblings.

The parallels between Alyssa and Cersei are apparent. Even their two sons have some similar characteristics. Viserys and Tommen are seen as weak and soft, Daemon and Joffrey are bloodthirsty and violent.

The parallel of Alyssa to Rhaenys works as well with her son Viserys who is a weak king like Aenys and has warrior, ambitious younger brother Daemon, who was even called "second Maegor" by his contemporaries.

Marriage and dragonriding

After marriage Alyssa claims a dragon, Meleys (name starting with M like Meraxes, Rhaenys' dragon) but at first she wanted to claim Balerion, however the dragonkeepers talked her out of it.

Like her brothers before her, Alyssa Targaryen meant to be a dragonrider, and sooner rather than later. Aemon had flown at seventeen, Baelon at sixteen. Alyssa meant to do it at fifteen.

Again, Alyssa trailing after her brothers, trying to outdo them.

Meleys was as swift a dragon as Westeros had ever seen, easily outpacing Caraxes and Vhagar when she and her brothers flew together.

That really all sounds like a competition that Alyssa is constantly participating in against her brothers, but it's all in her head. She didn't claim the bigger dragon, so she took the faster one. Even her exaggerated bragging about sex sounds like she's trying to be manlier than Baelon.

Speaking of the real competition, Alyssa wasn't a participant, but she was a vital part of it. The competition from the start was between Baelon and Aemon. Baelon was always following his older brother. He started to learn swordfighting early to catch up, had public duels with him, got knighted and claimed Vhagar - a bigger and stronger dragon than Aemon's Caraxes - at 16, so he did it at an earlier age than Aemon did (he was 17). He wanted to outdo his elder brother and marrying Alyssa was a part of that competition. Baelon gets a dragonriding sisterwife, the eldest of their sisters, the one that Jaehaerys intended for Aemon the heir. Aemon marries only their aunt with a small amount of Targaryen blood and without the Valyrian look, who will never claim a dragon. So all around, for Baelon the marriage to Alyssa is a big win over his brother. He's more like their father King than Aemon is, he's more worthy of his love (being the heir).

Young Alyssa saw how close Baelon and Aemon were - it seems natural that she wanted to be included in their competition. But the brother she focused more on was Baelon, not necessarily Aemon (though outdoing Baelon is almost guaranteed to be the same as outdoing Aemon as well). She was trailing after Baelon, she wanted to be as close to him as Aemon, have that sibling bond. Her idea to claim Balerion, the only dragon bigger than Baelon's Vhagar, not to mention the Conqueror's dragon, would have allowed her to outdo both of her brothers. Choosing Meleys, a red dragon just like Aemon's Caraxes, but faster than both of their dragons, puts her on at least equal footing with Aemon, and as a superior to both of them in terms of speed. In the air, they aren't better than she is.

Aemon marries Jocelyn when he's 15 and she's 16, while Baelon is 13 and Alyssa is 9. Alyssa marries Baelon when she's 15 and he's 18. Looks like the wedding was rushed a year because the other princesses married at 16. The reason might be that after Rhaenys was born Jocelyn became unable to give birth again so the king and queen wanted Baelon and Alyssa to quickly make a future husband for Rhaenys. Or Jaehaerys already decided to pass over Rhaenys in succession and saw Baelon as Aemon's heir, therefore Baelon needed a male heir too. Or it was all still part of the brotherly competition of who has a son first.

It's also interesting that Alyssa didn't get pregnant right after the wedding despite the reported frequent sexlife of the couple. She gave birth to Viserys in 77 AC, when she was 17, so she waited around a year before getting pregnant. Daemon was born in 81 AC and Aegon in 84 AC. There was some family planning involved with these mostly even rest periods between pregnancies. For example, Rhaenyra had her second son after a year and the third son was born after 2 years. It's most likely that Alyssa was drinking moon tea, while Baelon was enthusiastic to have sons (and get a win over Aemon). All I'm saying is that this marriage wasn't just pure passion on her side. Alyssa agreed to give children to Baelon, but she controlled when it happened (unlike her mother who was forced to birth Valerion in 77 AC, same year as Viserys, then Gael in 80 AC). That's another similarity with Cersei, who admitted to controlling her own procreation, whose children she had, how many and when.

I think Alyssa wanted to have the time in between pregnancies to pursue her hobbies. Within fortnight after birthing her sons she takes them flying on her dragon and it's not because she wants to give them legendary beginnings - it's probably because she wasn't allowed to fly for months during the pregnancy and she was just impatient to do it again.

Despite claiming a dragon, Alyssa was still excluded. She wasn't allowed to help her brothers and father during the 4th Dornish War. They would never risk her dying like queen Rhaenys in Dorne. Alyssa never used her dragon or sword skills for anything (except humiliating Vaegon). When she tells Baelon that he's made for battles and she for birthing his children, I wonder if it was how she really felt inside? Was she just resigned to her fate at that point? That no matter how much she tried, she will never be a son to Jaehaerys or an equal partner to Baelon and Aemon. She will never be Visenya.

We know that if Cersei or Arya had a dragon, they'd go apeshit with power and go off burning their enemies. And you tell me Alyssa never had a thought to fly to Oldtown and burn the Citadel as the last "fuck you" to Vaegon? Never wanted to burn the Dornish ships alongside her brothers? Never dreamed to go exploring the world? Maybe she was satisfied with Baelon and he kept her home like an anchor. She wouldn't fly off without him. Maybe he and Vhagar ensured she stayed put in King's Landing. Alyssa fully accepted her role as the mother of Baelon's sons. She bent the rules of conforming to her gender, but she couldn't truly break them or she would have lost her privileges.

The truth of Alyssa's character is that in the end she always followed the rules set by her parents. In that way she was a dutiful daughter.

Sex and dragonriding

Sex and dragonriding were Alyssa's favorite activities and she spent hours on both. In her own words she likens them to each other. She says she mounted and rode Baelon and after claiming Meleys she compares herself to her dragon saying that they were both mounted and so lost their virginity.

“Red maidens, the two of us,” the princess boasted, laughing, “but now we’ve both been mounted.”

There's no mention if adult Alyssa still continued sparring, climbing and other masculine activities she preferred in her youth, but most likely she had to give them up in order not to risk any miscarriage. Instead she spent her time on sex and dragonriding - both physical activities that she was allowed and expected to perform. But the way she did them so much, so excessively is rather odd and has implications on her state of mind.

The princess was seldom long away from the Dragonpit after that day. Flying was the second sweetest thing in the world, she would oft say, and the very sweetest thing could not be mentioned in the company of ladies.

Except she did mention it when she announced that she rode Baelon and was going to do it again.

It seems that Alyssa replaced sparring in the yard with another activity she was doing exclusively with Baelon - having sex with him. Moreover, she puts emphasis on riding him, being on top. It suggests that she was still trying to outdo him. It was definitely a way for her to take control of some aspect of her life and their relationship.

Some readers dismiss passages about Alyssa's sexlife as just Gyldayn being gross and perverted. Her sexual behavior is brushed off as unimportant despite how uncommon and even unique her actions were. I can't think of any other female character in ASOIAF acting this way (let me know if there was one), even among the ones who liked sex.

The bride was fifteen, the groom eighteen. Unlike their father and mother, Baelon and Alyssa did not wait to consummate their union; the bedding that followed their wedding feast was the source of much ribald humor in the days that followed, for the young bride’s sounds of pleasure could be heard all the way to Duskendale, men said. A shyer maid might have been abashed by that, but Alyssa Targaryen was as bawdy a wench as any barmaid in King’s Landing, as she herself was fond of boasting. “I mounted him and took him for a ride,” she declared the morning after the bedding, “and I mean to do the same tonight. I love to ride.”

Alyssa is a 15 year old child bride who was so loud during her first time having sex that everyone in the castle heard it and talked about it, then she told them all her favorite sex position. And she was boasting about it. That is not a normal behavior of a girl that just lost her virginity. Gyldayn is weird not because he reported her abnormal actions and words, but because he tries to make them sound like a good thing and not something actually concerning. Just because she's so eager to have sex with her husband, it's all good and fun. And even then, she's compared to a bawdy barmaid (I'm not exactly sure from this wording if Alyssa is boasting that she's bawdy like a barmaid or Gyldayn compares her to a bawdy barmaid because she was fond of boasting about her sexlife). Gyldayn treats this story like a humorous anecdote.

Even if Alyssa was just a horny teenager, why was she so shamelessly discussing her wedding night in public? The reasons I could think of are:

An attempt to act more like a man than a woman by boasting of a sexual "conquest" (another question is if she even knew how women act, she wasn't close to any, but I'm going to assume she knew normal conduct and chose to act differently on purpose).

To say: "I was on top, so I'm the real boss in this marriage".

To embarrass and shame the gossiping courtiers (maybe? But then she kept having loud sex so maybe not).

As a passive-aggressive form of rebellion against her parents - "you can make me marry, but I'm going to act in a way that's as scandalous and embarrassing to you as possible while technically obeying the rules and doing what I'm supposed to do".

Because she feels so euphoric after the sex and she has a poor impulse control, so she's oversharing.

Because being shameless and bawdy is a part of her personality now.

Alyssa's unusual sexual behaviour is dismissed as her just being a horny teenager or having high sex drive or being so in love with Baelon or all of the above. The fact is that Alyssa's sexual habits didn't change until she died at 24 after complications from childbirth.

Alyssa's promiscuous behavior could be caused by her still emulating Baelon and following his lead like in her childhood. When they married he was 18, older and more knowledgeable. Baelon was a lusty lad, so she became bawdy like a barmaid to match him.

I think it can be argued that Alyssa exhibits signs of sex addiction.

Prince Baelon had not ceased smiling since his marriage. When not aloft, Baelon and Alyssa spent every hour together, most oft in their bedchamber. Prince Baelon was a lusty lad, for those same shrieks of pleasure that had echoed through the halls of the Red Keep on the night of their bedding were heard many another night in the years that followed.

One thing is being newlyweds, the other is spending many hours having sex and making it a habit for 9 years of marriage. From the sound of it Alyssa's life revolved around dragonriding and sex, excluding any other activities and company of other people. It seems extremely unhealthy. Spending this much time and focus on sex sounds like she's addicted.

Against all advice, his mother clapped the boy in swaddling clothes, strapped him to her chest, and took him aloft on Meleys when he was nine days old.

Unnecessary risky behaviour resulting in child endagerment? Check. That's what an addict would do. Their inhibitions and impulse control are often lowered.

Another sign of sexual addiction is "engaging in sexual behaviors that go against your personal values, religious beliefs or what society deems appropriate". Alyssa's loud sex and boasting about it definitely aren't what Westerosi society deems appropriate.

Next sign of sex addiction is engaging in paraphilia, like exhibitionism, voyeurism, sadomasochism. Alyssa's behavior is almost exhibitionistic. She's definitely skirting an edge here. She doesn't expose her sexlife to other people's eyes, but to their ears.

“They call me Baelon the Brave,” the prince told his wife at her bedside, “but you are far braver than me. I would sooner fight a dozen battles than do what you’ve just done.” Alyssa laughed at him. “You were made for battles, and I was made for this. Viserys and Daemon and Aegon, that’s three. As soon as I am well, let’s make another. I want to give you twenty sons. An army of your own!”

This quote says a lot. Baelon praised her for being so brave, because childbirth is dangerous and women died because of it - their grandmother Alyssa Velaryon, their sister Daella just died recently, their mother had difficult births with Valerion and Gael. Alyssa just laughs it off, dismisses his worry. She doesn't see the danger. Well, she survived it 3 times, so she's different than other women (she's not as she later doesn't recover and dies at 24). She wants to get back to it ASAP - or rather to the babymaking. That's a risky behavior that disregards her health in pursuit of what she's addicted to. She wants to get her fix.

All of this put together paints Alyssa as at least sex obssessed if not sex addicted, especially the amount of time she dedicates to it and her risktaking, reckless attitude, against justified worries of Baelon or maesters advice. Gyldayn could be exaggerating. Or he's just saying it how it was but makes it into a humorous, romantic tale. Of brother and sister that do nothing but fly on dragons and have sex. That's their entire marriage life. But the focus put on it really makes it look unusual. Jaehaerys and Alysanne had 13 children, but there are no "heartwarming" tales about how much time they spent in the bedroom.

Alyssa expressed a belief that she was made for giving birth, for procreation. She accepts her assigned role in life and finds as much enjoyment as she could in fulfilling it. There's nothing else. She was raised to do only this and the indoctrination worked too well. Alysanne wanted the couple to be like her own marriage and Alyssa emulates her by planning to have a bunch of kids, even though Alysanne was so much more to Jaehaerys - advisor, diplomat, lawmaker. Baelon even told Aemon that he leaves making law to him, because he prefers to make sons.

“I will leave the making of law to you, brother,” Prince Baelon declared, whilst drinking to Prince Aemon’s appointment. “I would sooner make sons.”

Apart from her environment and fulfilling expectations what could be the other causes of Alyssa's sexual behavior? It could be related to many mental health problems and we know Targaryens as a family have a predisposition to them. If she's addicted, it could be a response to personal trouble. A tomboy is forced to be a traditional wife, giving up her dreams. It could be a coping mechanism if she was feeling depression. Sex raises mood like alcohol. An addict wants to forget his troubles and just feel good. Alyssa's younger sisters, Saera and Viserra, also showed signs of addiction, both getting drunk when they were young teenagers. Saera at 12, Viserra at 15.

Alysanne was pregnant with Valerion and Gael around the time of both of Alyssa's pregnancies. I wonder what does it do to a pregnant woman to watch her mother be forced into risky pregnancies, having difficult labour and recovering for half a year after that? Did she feel like she was seeing her own future? That this will be her in 20 years? But it's too depressing to think about, so she had to ignore, repress, deny it. She was different, younger, stronger, she was in control of her body, Baelon wouldn't do that to her. This is her battle and she was made for this, she's a warrior. Her mother survived it 13 times, so Alyssa will too. Better stop thinking about it and go have sex or fly on a dragon.

Alyssa having depression may seem like a leap but as I said - she has a good reason. She's a tomboy turned housewife at 15. What are her real feelings on the marriage? Gyldayn never provides anything substantial. He says outright that "Prince Baelon had not ceased smiling since his marriage" and links it with all the sex he was having. Why didn't he say instead "Baelon and Alyssa were smiling", just Baelon? What about Alyssa? She's constantly dragonriding or having sex. Both of those activities are keeping her way from all other people except Baelon. It looks like she's isolating herself. When she interacts with others, she's bawdy and boasting about her sexlife (after wedding night, after claiming Meleys) or reaffirms her role in life as a childbearer (to Baelon and in front of the maesters after she gave birth to Aegon).

Alyssa's solitary activities after marriage and over the top enthusiasm for sex may be covering up her feelings of dissatisfaction with her life. Look at the similarity to her son Daemon, he had a reputation for his abundant sexlife and patronage of brothels when he was unhappily married to Rhea Royce. He couldn't even hold any position on a Small Council for long and Otto was undermining him and taking the spot as his brother's chief councilor. Daemon had plenty of reasons to be unhappy and dissatisfied with his life and that's when he was behaving promiscuously. Then it all disappeared after Rhea's death and him choosing a new wife for himself. It's likely Alyssa passed the predisposition to sex addiction to her son.

Other character acting similar to Alyssa in the series would be Robert Baratheon - a chief example of a depressed sex addict, but he was masking it by feasting and getting drunk all the time. Alyssa's main parallel, Cersei, became an alcoholic, which is just another type of addiction. Cersei also exhibited risky sexual behavior by having an affair with Jaime, having his children and everything that followed from that (like sex in the Broken Tower, her affair with Lancel).

Taking into account all of the above I'd say it looks like Alyssa developed a sex addiction and any type of addiction signifies deep personal trouble that one tries to forget/cope with.

Gyldayn portrays the marriage as happy, but the only one who was shown as happy was Baelon. Gyldayn sees that Alyssa liked sex, satisfied her husband's sexual needs all the time, accepted her role as a mother and gave birth to sons so he treats it like a successful marriage. But he doesn't care about what Alyssa felt, only Baelon.

Alyssa - the role model for Saera and Viserra

Alyssa resembles Cersei because of her "I'm not like the other girls" attitude. She wants to be in the boys' club with Aemon and Baelon and has nothing in common with her sisters. And she's said to avoid other girls' company. It's all rather strange. In a way she's like Alysanne, who was purposely deprived of female friends in her childhood by her mother, however in Alyssa's case it was a choice.

Despite Alyssa's distance she had a profound effect on both Saera and Viserra as their older sister. She was supposed to be their role model as a Targaryen princess. They were probably constantly compared to her and told that she's a good wife. If they want to be successful, they should be like Alyssa. Unfortunately for the younger girls, Alyssa is in fact a terrible role model.

Saera is the most similar to Alyssa out of all their sisters. This comparison is explicitly stated in the book, as according to her maesters Saera was:

as strong and quick and spirited as her sister Alyssa.

The similarities between the family's problem child and the parentally approved older sister are also in their behaviour, which Saera was probably copying off Alyssa. Saera even wanted to claim Balerion like Alyssa initially did before the dragonkeepers changed her mind. It's also interesting to note that:

Septon Barth tells us that Saera’s sisters all misliked her to various degrees.

That means Alyssa shared the common dislike for Saera despite keeping general distance from all her sisters and the 6 year age gap. What reason Alyssa would have to dislike Saera? I think the most possible reason was that Saera became Jaehaerys' favourite and could get anything she wanted, despite her general mayhem and misbehavior. Meanwhile, Alyssa's efforts to please him, first by being like the boys, then obediently marrying Baelon, didn't get her anything she wanted, apart from a dragon that she wasn't allowed to use for battle or for any other purpose than leisure flying. Jaehaerys was never the same after Saera's escape to Essos but there was no mention of his reaction to Alyssa's death. It's clear that Saera had his affection without trying, but Alyssa didn't, so Alyssa had a good reason to be jealous of Saera and dislike her.

Going in chronological order, the first similarity between Alyssa and Saera was their cruel and humiliating treatment of those who couldn't even defend themselves from them - their own siblings. Alyssa was cruel to her little brother Vaegon and humiliated him so badly that he completely gave up on learning the sword despite keeping up with it for a year, but no one ever mentions her actions as something bad. Vaegon was an unpopular, bookish and unhappy boy that wasn't good at traditional male activities like fighting, so Alyssa could bully him without any repercussions and even with a tacit permission from their father (reminds me of Sam Tarly situation). No wonder he lost confidence, closed off and took the first chance to leave the family that didn't love or protect him. No wonder he only visited when he was summoned and his letters to Alysanne were perfunctory.

Was Saera emulating Alyssa's cruelty? It's very possible. Saera was 6 and 7 years old when the two incidents of Alyssa bullying Vaegon happened. Saera might not have seen them (it's likely she did), but she definitely heard of them and saw how Alyssa was unpunished. It must have emboldened Saera's own cruel streak. Her first childhood victim was Daella who she kept scaring with her pranks (the prank with hiding bees in a chamberpot was definitely dangerous and cruel). Daella was an easy target as she was mentally disabled and delicate. Septon Barth noted Saera's jealousy of the attention Daella was getting from their mother. After Daella left, Saera started playing cruel and humiliating pranks on another mentally disabled person, the court fool Tom Turnip.

It's also worth noting that both Vaegon and Daella were in Jaehaerys' disfavour because they both failed to meet his expectations. Both were avoiding marriage in their own ways, Vaegon lacked martial talent and Daella's mental disability was the proof against the king's Targaryen supremacy propaganda. Jaehaerys was the driving force to send them away from their home, never to return. It seems that Alyssa was used by their father to teach Vaegon a lesson. Saera not only picked up on Jaehaerys' dislike for Daella, but also on his quiet approval of Alyssa's bullying of Vaegon. She knew it was allowed.

The next similarity between sisters was in their hypersexual behaviour. Saera was 8 years old when Alyssa got married and the tale of her wedding night spread. She must have heard some of Alyssa's boasting about sex, saying how much she loved it, or the often occuring loud sex sounds coming from her bedroom. It continued until Alyssa's death when Saera was 16, nearly 17. Saera's formative years were spent influenced by her sister's sex-obssessed example. Alyssa's behaviour was accepted by all, approved by their parents despite how unusual it was. It's no wonder Saera took a cue from her older sister and began her own sexual explorations as a teenager with her group of friends. She even sought out the older and more experienced Braxton Beesbury to be her Baelon substitute.

Like Alyssa, Saera also exhibited signs of sex addiction - risky sexual behavior, sex with multiple partners, sexually humiliating pranks on Tom Turnip (voyeuristic in nature - she wanted to see him naked, to see him having sex). We know she had an addictive personality as she became alcoholic when she was 12 years old.

Saera's scandalous sexual conduct was caught by her parents after Alyssa's death, in the same year. And she even used as one of her justifications that "Baelon used to kiss Alyssa all the time", proving that she took notice of their relationship and how sex-focused it was. She learned from them that a happy, successful marriage is based on having sex all the time. At the same time, the only other example she had was her parents, who were becoming distant from each other and stopped having sex (and their reasons for disagreeing were Daella's death and Jaehaerys forcing 2 risky pregnancies on Alysanne, which endagered her life). Aemon and Jocelyn lived on Dragonstone, so they couldn't serve as a more normal example of a married couple for Saera.

Viserra was also affected by Alyssa's bad example. She witnessed Alyssa's marriage from the age of 4 to 13 years old, so for most of her young life. According to Alysanne:

"She aims much higher, our Viserra. I have seen the way she preens and prances around Baelon. That is the husband she desires, and not for love of him. She wants to be the queen.”

So Alysanne started losing it because she thought that Viserra wanted to be the queen, while Aemon was the heir and married, so marrying Baelon would not make her a queen. Unless she suspected the sly Viserra to have a plan to get rid of Aemon and Rhaenys to get to the throne after marrying Baelon. However, the one who explicitly stated that she wanted to be a queen was Saera, not Viserra. Alysanne was confusing her daughters. Previously she had more accurate insights on her children. Maybe she was spending less time with them and focusing more on young Gael.

Alysanne statement has to be taken with a grain of salt, it's not entirely factual, but rather her opinion on Viserra. She can't allow Alyssa to be replaced in Baelon's heart, as she fashioned their marriage in the image of her own with Jaehaerys. She believes that Baelon and Alyssa are the true love story, so he can never remarry. Her solution to the danger of Viserra replacing Alyssa is to betroth her to the old lord Manderly. That way she'll stay far away from Baelon and Alyssa's memory will be preserved.

Viserra understandably protests the betrothal, but her parents are unyielding, so she decides to seduce Baelon by sneaking into his bed naked and drunk. The thing is, that behaviour wasn't Viserra's usual MO. She was known for playing with boys like puppies, manipulating them to do what she wanted and sending them on foolish quests. She wasn't a seductress. Then why did she take this straightforward approach with Baelon and just jumped into his bed?

“He married one sister, why not another?” Viserra told her closest friend, the empty-headed Beatrice Butterwell. “I am much prettier than Alyssa ever was, you saw her. She had a broken nose.”

This quote proves Viserra's interest in Baelon and also provides a lead to the reason for Viserra's actions. Based on what Viserra saw of Baelon's relationship with Alyssa, she concluded that Baelon only cares about sex and the only way to get his attention is to offer him her body. Viserra doesn't know how to interact with or romance her older brother. Alyssa spent most of her time with him by having sex, so that must be how it's done, right? It sounds like Viserra is unaware if there was anything other than sex between Alyssa and Baelon. She even thinks that he wouldn't care which sister he's having sex with.

It's important to note that Viserra is vain, but she is not stupid. She's described as sly and capable of manipulating people to do what she wants. A skilled manipulator has to be observant and notice things about people. And those are the conclusions she drew about Baelon and Alyssa's marriage which she observed for most of her life - that all he cared about was having sex with his sisterwife, that all a good sisterwife had to do was to be sexually available. It's possible that Viserra didn't understimate Baelon's actual loyalty to dead Alyssa, but only his sense of duty and honour. He didn't take advantage of her, even when she offered, but if his parents ordered him to marry her, he'd probably obey them like he always did.

Alyssa is seen as different and better then her younger sisters despite all the evidence to the contrary. The positive spin on her qualities is like the opposite of the negative spin on her sisters' characters. Basically, she gets special treatment (from both her parents and Gyldayn) because she married Baelon and fulfills the traditional role of wife and mother. On the other hand, when her sisters follow her example or want the same things she had, they are villainized. Saera is called "an evil child" by her septa, then "a whore" by her father and heavily punished, forced to watch her father kill her lover, Viserra is labeled as ambitious and manipulative by her mother.

Maegelle, Alyssa and the incestous family planning

Maegelle seems to most people like the sister that had the least to do with Alyssa, had a good life as a septa and was lucky to escape her sisters' various tragic fates. However, she was heavily impacted as a child by Alyssa and also their parents' plans for both of them.

Alyssa broke the chain of younger siblings trailing after the elder. Baelon followed Aemon, Alyssa followed Baelon, but when Maegelle tried to follow her, Alyssa was completely against it. Probably she just didn't want Maegelle joining the dynamic Alyssa had with their brothers, getting close to them and taking away their affection.

Maegelle joined the Faith of the Seven in 73 AC when she was 10 years old. It can be argued that Alysanne was always going to send one daughter to Oldtown, but did it have to be Maegelle and not Daella, Saera or Viserra at a later date? Maegelle could have married Vaegon or someone else, so why didn't she?

Jaehaerys' idea for arranging marriages was pretty simple, he wanted to pair them up by the order of birth - eldest son to eldest daughter, second son to second daughter and so on. It was Alysanne who had to intervene and tell him who liked who, he had no clue about the relationships between his children. According to Jaehaerys' matchmaking plan, Aemon would have married Alyssa, so logically I assume next would be Baelon and Maegelle, Vaegon and Daella. Alysanne must have seen problems with that, like the age gaps - 6 years between Aemon and Alyssa, 5 years between Baelon and Maegelle. She also made Jocelyn sit next to Aemon during a feast for his investiture as Prince of Dragonstone when he was 7 and saw that the two got along really well. So that is one example of Alysanne's successful matchmaking and arranged well in advance before the betrothals were made.

It's likely that Maegelle's future was sacrificed to appease the Faith so they wouldn't oppose another full sibling marriage - between Alyssa and Baelon. And that's why when the betrothals were made in 68 AC, Jaehaerys told Vaegon that he will marry Daella, not Maegelle who was older.

I wonder if Maegelle became pious because she was being prepared for her life as a septa or it had something to do with Alyssa rejecting her company. Maybe the religion provided Maegelle with some comfort and friendship. Maybe she didn't want to marry her brother or anyone at all and becoming a septa allowed her to avoid that fate. The opposite was also possible, what if Maegelle only wanted to please and imitate Alysanne, who was pious herself, but she didn't actually want to become a septa? Maybe she became pious because she was praying for something specific, had some wish? The point is we will never know what Maegelle wanted to do with her life as she was never asked and the choice was taken from her before she was grown enough to make it. And the same thing happened sooner or later to all the other siblings. In any case, Alysanne removed Maegelle from the marriage plans so that Alyssa could marry Baelon.

Was it fair to Maegelle to decide her whole life for her when she was so young? Was it fair to do the same to Alyssa or any of their other siblings? The moral of the story of all the children of Jaehaerys and Alysanne is simple - that parents controlling their children's future and deciding their whole lives and careers when they are 5-10 years old is unfair, awful and often has tragic consequences. Maegelle is as much of a victim here, she was said to be bright and studious as a child, she had intelligence and potential for greatness that was squandered by sending her to be a septa. Funny that Alysanne didn't notice that Maegelle, not Alyssa, was the most like her out of all her daughters. Maegelle with her gentleness, caring for the weak like Daella, charitableness could have been the next Good Queen.

Maegelle is regarded as the only sister that got away from tragedies of her siblings. But she was made to join a religious order as a child. She never had a choice or an opportunity to be anything different. When she died, nursing patients with greyscale, she was only 34 years old. She didn't even reach middle age. She lived only 10 years longer than Alyssa. Ironically, Saera could have outlived them all, as the last time she was mentioned, she was alive at age 34 during the Great Council of 101 AC.

Alyssa despite being portrayed as accepting of her duty and even enthusiastic about having more children, isn't the happy exception, the successful daughter. She has to give up on any of her previous dreams and aspirations, she has power - a dragon, that she's not allowed to use in battle as equal with her brothers. Despite having the role of Rhaenys she can't fight alongside her brothers, she has to stay behind and be protected by them. She's reduced to being just a wife and mother and it seems to me that her enthusiasm about sex is at best her simply finding pleasure and control in what little she's allowed to have and do. She makes the best of what she has because what else she can do? It can be even argued that she showed signs of sex addiction and was hiding her dissatisfaction and depression. She dies at 24 from complications after childbirth.

Both Alyssa and Maegelle were obedient daughters who spent their lives fulfilling their parents' expectations, following the paths they didn't choose, and died as a result without even reaching middle age. They are both tragic, but their parents, Gyldayn - and through them the book readers - don't realize it.

After Alyssa's death

After Alyssa's death her shadow is cast over her younger sisters. Saera and Viserra are condemned for pursuing what was once granted to Alyssa. They can't have a brother, a lover or a dragon. They aren't allowed to fill her shoes. Alysanne projects herself on Alyssa and won't let a younger and prettier queen take her place. You know she just hates the idea of Jaehaerys marrying a new woman after she's gone, because it would disprove their eternal love, so Baelon has to be forever Alyssa's.

Alyssa isn't just a distant elder sister and bad role model for her younger sisters (who get punished for acting like she did - that's a big parenting failure of Jaehaerys and Alysanne). Her ghost deeply affects Baelon who isn't allowed to stop mourning her for the rest of his life. It's written like a proof of their great love that he couldn't move on, but what if he eventually wanted to? Baelon couldn't find happiness again after Alyssa because that would disappoint Alysanne and he was too dutiful to her. So he was stuck in this loyalty to a dead wife for 16 years (85 AC to 101 AC).

Though shattered by his loss, Baelon took solace in the two strong sons that she had left him, Viserys and Daemon, and never ceased to honor the memory of his sweet lady with the broken nose and mismatched eyes.

I find it interesting that only Baelon's reaction to her death was mentioned. Compared to the other siblings dying, usually we are told Alysanne's and/or Jaehaerys' reaction. They probably mourned her, but didn't see her death at 24 due to complications after childbirth as overly tragic. They probably thought that these things happen and there was nothing they could do. They don't realize that expecting Alyssa to keep having more children was what killed her. She had two sons, but to carry on the family tradition of sibling marriages, they needed her to have a daughter. Baelon wanted a girl, a sisterwife for his son, to continue the cycle in the next generation.

Gyldayn's description of Baelon's reaction to Alyssa's death seems overly sugary. He's trying to make their relationship look as romantic as possible, but calling her "sweet lady with the broken nose and mismatched eyes" ruins the effect. In what way Alyssa was ever sweet to anyone? Calling attention to her broken nose and mismatched eyes is rather weird, as they are physical imperfections. It's causing the whiplash, a dissonance between what was told and shown. How much of this statement by Gyldayn is even true?

Conclusions

Alyssa Targaryen is a complex character beyond being a wife and mother. She's distant from most of her siblings but has a significant influence and impact on their lives. The only one she's close to is Baelon and she tries to compete with him and Aemon. She bullied Vaegon, furiously rejected Maegelle, scared Daella and set a bad example of sexual behavior to Saera and Viserra. What's more, Alyssa's character isn't good or nice or even responsible. She's cruel, bawdy and competitive, avoids company of other girls and her sisters, because she thinks she's different (better) than them. She dismisses the danger of childbirth and unnecessarily risks her newborn sons when she takes them dragonriding.

Alyssa is deeply indoctrinated by her parents to believe in Targaryen supremacy ideology and accepts her role as a sisterwife and childbearer. She follows the rules set by them and is rewarded and praised for it. Despite that, she's likely depressed and coping by having sex or dragonriding. She exhibits signs of having a sex addiction, which is likely because her younger sisters and son Daemon also had addictive personalities. Her marriage life consists of having sex for most of the time and only her husband is mentioned to be happy with it. She's not allowed to express and pursue her own goals and the cases of her bullying Vaegon seem to be her lashing out because he rebelled against his parents' plans for his future.

Many existing similaries prove that the Alyssa is the answer to the question: "what if Cersei was a Targaryen?" She also resembles queen Rhaenys in her dynamic with her older brothers.

Alyssa's death isn't seen as tragic, despite her dying at 24 after giving birth to a third son they didn't need. She died young and for unnecessary reason. Her death was in vain as the child didn't live through infancy. The only one who was said to be mourning her was Baelon, who became a martyr of their great, lost love, and a sad widower for the rest of his life to appease Alysanne, who saw his marriage to Alyssa as a mirror to her own marriage with Jaehaerys.

Alyssa is not the one good, unproblematic daughter that Jaehaerys and Alysanne raised. Their bad parenting affected her as well as every single one of her siblings, even Maegelle, whose future was sacrificed so that Alyssa and Baelon could marry.

Jaehaerys and Alysanne weren't good parents to any of their children, including Alyssa. They decided their children's future paths when they were still too young and didn't finish growing, and then expected them to follow those plans. In result, most of the siblings died, either due to obeying their parent's will (Daenerys, Aemon, Alyssa, Maegelle, Daella) or rebelling against it (Viserra, Gael). The 3 remaining ones (Baelon, Vaegon, Saera) didn't die, but endured much suffering and hardship in their lives as an effect of their parents' control over them.

I worked on this for a week, so I hope it's interesting and at least provides some food for thought. I'm open to questions and more discussion, so you can send asks. I might write more analysis on Jaehaerys and Alysanne's bad parenting method and maybe some other topics related to their reign.

#alyssa targaryen #fire and blood #asoiaf theories #asoiaf meta #maegelle targaryen #vaegon targaryen #baelon the brave #baelon targaryen #king jaehaerys #jaehaerys the conciliator #alysanne targaryen #saera targaryen #viserra targaryen #my meta #my thoughts

191 notes · View notes

sgiandubh · 6 months ago

Note

idk if you’ve watched it yet but in the 10th celebration video, the part where Sam says “we dnt even know when we’ll be released” and Caitríona’s reaction to it had me👀….like the rest of us it seems they too can’t wait for it all to end so they can finally “released” and free from St*rz clutches. But i thought that was interesting thing to take notice of

Dear Reaction Anon,

Of course I watched it. Friday, even. But I have a dinner to plan for Wednesday, my car to sell (plot thickens...), dinners in town and various people to see.... So, sorry for the delayed answer and so incredibly sorry for being also late to the Shipper Feast.

Almost everything has been dissected to death, as it always happens, but I might still throw in my two cents, after all. So, I'll simply relisten to that video as I answer you and hit stop every time something interesting that has not been mentioned in here yet, made me go hmmm, ok?

At the 01:35 mark, S: 'yeah, it was such a whirlwind, you know, I mean, going straight into screentests and then looking for THE Claire, and it took quite a while, and then this one landed in Scotland, you know, weeks before we just started'

Here is her reaction - definitely fed up with this peasant, right?

Also, as a side note, did you notice how emotional S gets every single time babies and domestic scenes are mentioned? For a man who supposedly has no family of his own, that is surely strange.

And then you are so, so right, Anon, this is how she reacted to his 'being in a bubble for ten years and we don't even know when we'll be released what the world looks like' comment:

Did I notice an impish smile? Well, I surely did, Anon - and so did you.

It was a smart move to watch them watch OL. I found it very interesting, lots of clues about their joint dynamic:

She, as always, is leading the pack. He is more reserved and usually takes his cues from her, constantly seeks her approval. Gradually relaxes as she seems to imply the context is 'safe enough' to loosen up a bit. And yes, this is all instinctive, by now. If I knew absolutely nothing about These Two and saw them act and react like this IRL, I would definitely have questions.

And yes, I think he could listen to her talking about WWII medical pamphlets and bandages for days and still never get bored. This guy still lives to make her laugh:

Psst, Anon - see how they hate each other, here? Which really makes me think the 'just promo/fan service' argument is borderline schizophrenic, really - and why is S wooden and clumsy when promoting anything else with ANY OTHER WOMAN in our galaxy, by the way? Also, S and McTavish pretending they were still friends at that MIK event in London was 'just fan service' - this? This is not really that.

And then, oh dear me darling, that photo. I can almost hear two different kinds of 'shiiiiit' reactions, here:

He knows he mustn't slip - as he usually does, she is more like 'shiiiiit, hehehe, see what we've done here'. Logically, then, he brings about that sorry modicum of an excuse 'I've been so jetlagged' (jetlag was actually the least problematic thing, in that pic, ROFL; also, there are two people in that pic, bless your 💖🤣). Followed by the only diversion he could think of: bringing in the 'thousands of people, that was incredible, blah blah' - and then she dutifully chimes in: ' I think we did Hall H...? the big one...?' (strange comments for a pic where one can see two very cozy and scantily dressed people, LOL). Dilute, dilute, dilute. But it's Horowitz reply that interested me the most: ' it's too bad you guys aren't photogenic, even after a long flight, like what a mess you guys look like, there':

He threw a bait, C took it: 'weeelllll...' and then Josh ended it with a simple, smiling 'please' that, in my mind, is on par with KDS' 'believe what you want'.

I also found very telling one of the last remarks by Horowitz, too: ' it's ok, they can't fire you now, it's too late, it's way too late'. Granted, it was about the trivia and allegedly in jest, but really?

And there you have it, Anon. Perhaps it's not much, but as always, I tried to take the road less traveled by. Thanks for giving me the opportunity.

#anon #fandom #shitshow #10 years of ol

152 notes · View notes

plasticfangtastic · 7 months ago

Text

Dairy Girl-- Part 2

A Homelander x F! Reader fanfic

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to post this and hope the lenght is enough of an apology, yeah this is gonna be liek 4 parts i got too engrossed btw. hope yall like it here's the previous chapter:

Synopsis: In order to provide a constant supply of fresh breastmilk for Vought’s number one hero, Vought has had to get quite nifty in order to prevent this secret desire out the press and the public– you have unfortunately discovered the truth.

Tags: Stockholm Syndrome, abusive dynamic, Homelander being Homelander, dub-con, dark, mild smut, breastfeeding kink, kidnapping, child-death mention tw, cheating tw, set in s4 but canon nothing, slow burn.

word count: 3.4K

Part 2– Calf

As he’d mentioned before the house was an escape proof cage– every window had its hinges super glued or welded shut, glass panels thick enough to prevent shattering but thin enough to allow sound in. That night as he’d left you for the first time you kept your composure, perturbed more by the earlier events that nothing had time to sink in, you venture across the 3 bedroom home, each room old taken straight out from a vintage furniture catalog, the master bedroom smelled just like your grandmother’s, the bathroom walls covered in tacky pink tiles that you told yourself will never get used to.

By the time you explored the whole building you understood the following: The size felt deceiving, without a way to see the outside this building could’ve been 35 floors high and you wouldn’t know, the east-wing of the building at the opposite direction where you’d emerged was cut off from you by a thick metal door, an eye-scan request made its unpickable lock, looking at how it cut on the hardwood floors you’d guess this is where in the kitchen and perhaps the garage and entry hall could be found, this overall felt like an architectural nightmare, the only other oddity of this was the piles and piles of bottled water– Vought branded water… you much rather drink Dasani than this crap… It was by far the worst one in the supermarket.

There were indeed no phones or even ethernet ports on the wall, the TV was bolted in its place and so was the VHS player (and all the furniture too), there were at least 350 titles on the walls (something you bothered to count on day 5), an extremely old vinyl player your only other company... whoever had supposedly lived here was a big fan of Cab Calloway, ABBA and Bruce Springsteen, here you and Bruce could become intimate friends it seems after all you had all his vinyls, alongside an expansive jazz assortment, nothing in this selection went past 1989.

You also learned a very useful fact on day 3 you stared at one of the 18 cameras that you’d found.

“I really want some Mcnuggets! Like just a 12-pack and a large Sprite! Maybe an Oreo Mcflurry too!” You yelled into the camera waving your arms as if the circular lense would reply somehow.

Barely few minutes later the air was filled with the roaring sounds of a bike burning tires seemed the forbidden end faced some road which made you giddy, about 50 minutes later a small door at the door itself opened smoothly where the first strange hand you’ve seen in the last 3 days popped-out leaving a bag with a familiar logo… it wasn’t maccas tho, it was Vought-a-burger which was okay but that wasn’t the point, you picked your meal and your oversize ice-cream and drink and begun connecting lines– Your prison was in Pennsylvania, based on the area code on the phone number on that old pizza box, located close enough from both a pizza chain and on a 15 to 20 minutes drive from a Vought-a-Burger, the library held no maps for you to try to find your location but give or take about an hour or two by foot from any civilization… Yet as you drank the mostly melted caramel churro sundae you smiled thinking of how to steal a bike.

That Night you picked two tapes from the wall not caring one bit about what you were going to see, you stared at the camera.

“Hey can one of you check like an underrated 80s movie list from IMDb ‘cuz I seen a few of these already… at least bring me something new!”

As always no response was ever given, you dragged your feet towards that ornate bedroom of yours, pink walls, flowery quits, a matching chaise lounge, a hardwood coffee table bolted to the ground and your private TV and VHS player, it took you an hour to remember how to use these thing that second day here. You put on a movie, curling in your bed in the dark, smelling the sweet flowery smell of fabric softener, this didn’t smell like home, pillows too soft, mattress too soft everything here was made to bring you comfort but it was making you feel like a squatter.

The cold light of the screen enveloped every surface and you slowly faded away as ‘Lady in White’ began to wrap up, eyes glued to the screen so firmly you screamed when the faint red light peeked from the corner, clutching the quilt across your body as the red faded away and all you saw was a vaguely illuminated shape.

Blurry colors with no clean shapes, standing facelessly enough blue to let you see it was humanoid, Homelander creeped closer, his body blocking the light and like a shadow he devours everything, he turned around to pause the player, draping his gloves on the dumb box as he turned around once more, your heart caught in your throat, each breath quick and sharp as he took another step closer, hushing softly and he’s there swallowing you whole he kneeled into the bed the mattress squeaked and chimed sinking under his weight pulling you in, only the faint outline of gold eagles and soft blonde locks told you with absolute certainty that he was here… that 3 days ago you indeed met The Homelander, far from the pretty blue-eyed hunk from the movies more ghoul.

You swallowed as his head rested on the pillow next to your hips, his nose burying in the cushioned pillowcase.

“I was busy with work” He mumbles softly, staring at you with the same playfulness of a guilty pet owner who’d ran out of their cat's churu treats– "I promise to visit, I got you something… left it downstairs for you.”

He stared at your white knuckled hands and without uttering a word you understood his demands, fingers moved by psychic force alone, you welcomed him into your lap as you came undone, burying your digits into his hair, soft like cotton, so smooth you dreamt of cat’s bellies as you scratched him, he took the remote from under you lifting you with so much ease your brain struggled to compute it at first, the movie played and all he wanted was petting.

“Security told me you’ve been good… nothing crazy… am glad, "he said with a tired tone.

“What good would that do me…?” You replied with your eyes focused on the screen.

If you wanted to survive I had to get on his good side, no? you though

“I like it when you people understand your place” He chuckles softly.

‘You people’? You could easily discern the meaning behind his words by tone alone, your finger stopped suddenly, his eyes flaring up immediately.

“I think this would be more productive if you told me exactly what’s going on… I won’t try to run or scream… am just confused and scared…” you spoke bluntly as his gaze met yours in the dark.

“This is my private speakeasy and you’re the bartender… tap too… is hard being on top… and I want some relief… and a sanctum–

“To express your socially unacceptable inclinations/interests? Fair enough I can imagine the press would eat you alive if they found out you liked breastmilk.”

“You’re cute and smart too.” He pushed himself into your stomach, your body sinking to the shape he wanted, holding you tight– I’ll be a good owner and let you asks me absolutely anything you want”

“Why me?”

“Dunno.” His lips tightened into a flat line– the doctors picked you, I asked for a good provider… but all the women downstairs and you did have one thing in common” He sounded awkward as he spoke listening to your increasing heartbeat– you kept producing… I asked to have easy access to my treat but somebody downstairs came out with all of this” his hand lazily gestures around– bit extra I know.”

How simple, he didn’t even care about this to begin with, glaring at him gave you no answers or comfort.

“My family…?”

“They think you killed yourself, I've been told… your ex-hubby been on twitter acting holier than the virgin mary, absolutely devastated for likes” You bit your lips, face scrunching up ready to shout and cry– everybody suspects he murdered you even the cops”

“I'm going to kill him!!” Your tears flowed regardless – god fucking dammit!”

Your whole body rejected the news, twisting your stomach and filling you with needles

“How would you do it?”

“Bash his head in with a hammer…?? I don’t know but fuck him! I wasted 5 years of my life with that bastard!” You cried.

Homelander buried his face into your stomach, hiding the smile on his face. as you cursed outloud for a little bit, he paid no attention to your words.

“Sorry…” You cleaned your tears trying to stop this embarrassing display, the mere thought of him acting like he cared made you sick when he wouldn’t even come to his own son’s funeral– are you gonna hurt me?” you cleaned your nose against the pillow.

He moved so quickly before you knew it he’s face to face and even in this dark room only lit by rolling credits he appeared serene as a painting… It makes your blood run cold.

“Why would I hurt my comforter?”

That night he only slept for a couple hours, never moving from your stomach, holding you regardless, he snored softly, mumbling half-spoken words, lips twitching and brows furrowing, you petted him gently watching his hardened frown melt.

Some days he’d come once, others he’d come five times and then there were the days were you didn’t see him at all, leaving you awkwardly aware about how odd these exchanges felt… for it never felt truly sexual, your fears of molestation and ‘real’ assault dissuaded as you accepted that all this man was doing was come here to whine and bitch about work and suck on your titty– like right now, Homelander has been shouting, talkign so much shit about his coworkers you started to wonder if it was made up for nobody could certainly be that allegedly incompetent, about how stressful it was to do 20 plus media interviews all day, about hoq\w his latest film “Justice Serve” was a fucking nightmare already despite being only half-way thru pre-production.

“Do you even know what it's like to deal with idiots who think they’re better than you because they have an award!?” He put your nipple back in his mouth with a frown– who does Villeneuve think he is” He mumbled into your skin.

Yet he didn’t only bring petty grievances and thirsty lips– he showered you with gifts, perfumes you couldn’t pronounce filled with soft fragrances: sweet but not sugary, warm tones without too much spice. Brought you beauty products to pamper you… to watch you play with from the many cameras in the house, and dressed you like a doll in clothes you honestly wouldn't have bought in the first place, too flowery and tradwifey.

You did so with a fake smile, you’d be pretty for him if you must, keep your tongue in-check and swallow the ever increasing knot in your throat for he at least wasn’t loud towards you, he didn’t yell, he didn’t make scenes… you were just living like his newest pet.

His miniature cow standing in the living room instead of the evergreen pastures outside, VHS tapes and steel food trays made your fence.

You keep busy cleaning this house making stories of who had lived there, Bruce the only one who spoke to you.

Analysing the house inch by inch, there had to have been a spot they’ve missed you kept thinking, you figured that somehow they monitored your sleep cycle, only entering to remove dirty clothes and trash in the death of night, they knew if you were obviously awake, on day 14 you stayed up till around 5 am and not a peep was heard accross the house but as you woke past noon all your trash had been cleaned up, on day 16 you stayed awake all day felt sick passed out and same thing, you would find a way out, you would force them to take you out, all the furniture was glued in its post but if you had to cause a fire you fucking would… as you stared at your clean bedsheets you figure you could force them to come in and drag you outside but as you postulated the possibility of a faux-suicide attempt Homelander’s face flashed accross closed eyes– dare dissapointing him and lose all the goodwill you’d been building, trust, even presents more extravagant than anything your ex ever did.

Had he not kidnapped you, hold you against your will in an underground bunker, used you as a milk fountain and terrified the fuck out of you with his invisible steps in the middle of the night you would had found him charming… endearing even… at least he was still handsome… frightening but handsome.

Day 18-19-20 were the worse so far, days went by and your isolation only grew he had not come by, your meals delivered so quietly you missed them and found them cold, birds either too loud or gone but Homelander never came, every hour the anxiety only grew as you found your throat aching to speak with somebody other than a non-present 80s musician.

You made a stack of the movies you’ve seen yelling to the camera demanding more to watch, abandoning the cause to focus on the obscene collection of Danielle Steel books in the library… at least 30 books, at least it was a distraction as you woke up for the third day in a row without hearing from Homelander.

You talked to yourself, prettier views didn’t make up for human interaction, you had isolated yourselves before… you didn’t eat, shower, answer calls, simply left yourself to rot in your bed, sinking deeper and deeper into your mattress, the calm heartbeat of the machine keeping you alive until the phone battery died, now here you were curling in the couch feeling that endless void inside you screaming back at you, nothing to distract you from it any longer.

How ironic that those days locked in the basement had been the firsts since the funeral that you’d hadn’t thought about it.

Now every sleep came with dreams of distant cries, empty halls that cooed back, and a sense of urgency as time slipped from underneath you, nothing here smelled like him, yet in your sleep you held your pillow as you once held him, swearing it smelled like him, in the silence the singing birds sound like babies, but there’s nothing but creaking floorboards, old pipes and foreign ghosts in this place.

In this endless silence your mind told you this was limbo, jazz solos disguised the pandemonium of a silent afterlife, but as your heart anguished once again you buried yourself in paltry distractions, reading out loud as to keep your vocal chords warm and delude yourself that there was some company in here, mostly to hide the nonexistent crying.

It took you by surprise when half way thru ‘The Ghost’ you heard the buzzing of the steel door, your ears perked up stretching your neck before falling into the floor, shaky knees picked you up once more with a brave kick, quick steeping into the living room– Homelander stood staring at the messy pile talking to the camera to have this sorted and for the first time since you’d been here you sawn another human, who answered his call almost immediately, a man in kevlar rushed in his gun bouncing on his back alongside a young man dragging an ikea bag.

“Homelander!” Your voice was hoarse but he still turned to smile at you.

“We got you some new movies Ms. L/N” The young man spoke dropping the bag with a heavy thud.

“Watch it!” Homelander growled and you saw a slight stain dribble down his pants– just go wait in the library kitten while these ones sort this out for you.”

Your feet moved anyways, too excited by the presence of new faces, had he not cleared his throat you would’ve said anything just to make sure this wasn’t a dream, you looked away and that big steel door was wide open, an armed guard by the exit tho… it was an office, painted white with cool fluorescent lights.

Run, the voices scream.

Run.

For fucks sake run!!\

but...

You stay still.

It’s a test. Run and die, run and he’d snap your spine in thirds before you understand what happened your brain would be separated from your cranium no doubt, you swallow and take a step back, slow heavy agonizing steps lead you to the library.

Homelander’s gaze softens as he watches you sit by the unlit fireplace, he follows you soon after leaving the staff to work behind, you lift your head with a stiff neck, your tongue swollen inside your mouth, he smiles gently dropping to your level, carrying a small box.

The pretty bow doesn’t catch your attention in the least.

Not that dashing smile and ever so blue eyes either.

He tickles your nose without touching.

Chamomile and oat, a pale scent, subtle and clean…

As he scoot closer to you urging you to take the meaningless box held by nude hands, he pets your chin, leaving you to catch nutty tones… his hands smell of almond oil and cream.

He’s talking as he guides your hand into opening the present but you aren’t hearing a single word spoken… all you care about is his aroma…it invides you carving an aching hollow chest, making you dizzy and the world is squeezing your whole body with a thousands of pounds of violent force but you’re still held in one piece, wrapping your neck with the necklace he’d got you, touching every exposed inch leaving traces of sweet almond on you, resting his chin on your stiff shoulder so close whispering sweet nothings to you… hair smells so creamy… milky coconut, it makes you ill– You could name every brand he wore if asked.

“You like it?” He asks into your neck.

‘Like’ what? You guessed he meant the necklace.

“Where have you been?” You asked, wanting to think of anything but that bitter scent.

He pushes you down into the carpet, your hair drapes everywhere so he moves it to give himself no chance to pull it, you can’t even argue but your surprise and discomfort still paints your face, before you can say anything he drops his head on your stomach, nuzzling your dress and pulling your hand towards his head.

“I don’t want to talk about it” his muffle words sound angry, he whined into your stomach a quiet order demanding affection.

Obeying orders before he could whined even more for now you wanted silence again.

Staying like this for as long as he needed, leaving you to speculate what brought him such distress that caused him to abandon you as a result, a part of you stared in awe as you realized you how long this man could stay still without making a sound for.

How long did you lay there in a shared repose that your eyes shut? you wondered as the orange glow of afternoon sun warmed your cheeks, his hand cleaned a falling tear off your face as you woke up with a headache.

“Had a nightmare?”

Your hand unconsciously pulled him close to you, burying his face under your chin he’d awkwardly smiled as he adjusted to your demands, talking to you but it was white noise, your kept him still bridging an arm across his neck locking him in position, your other hand buried in blond, closing your eyes as you got high on shampoo.

In your mind much like your dream you hold him so close, he was plump and giddy, his hair more than a thin tuff, you laughed with him, as you dried his back, you swore to never love the scent of coconut, you held back your pain as you held him with all your might.

“I don’t want to talk about it…”

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x fem!reader #personal #my fic tag #the boys amazon #i have not proofread this so i die as the dog that i am #will edit for errors tomorrow cuz its almost midnight when am posting this.

243 notes · View notes

wangmiao · 5 months ago

Text

An Incomplete History of Zhang Luyi & Chen Minghao's Friendship

Do you like Pangxie's chemistry in Tibetan Sea Flower? Do you feel that they are really old friends? Besides the fact that Zhang Luyi and Chen Minghao are very good actors, they are indeed old friends, and the earliest record that I can find of them working together dates back to 2006. However, CMH was in the 1996 class of acting at the The Central Academy of Drama, while ZLY was in the 1999 class of directing at the same university, so I figured they definitely got to know each other before 2006. So more or less, on Chinese social media, people usually assume that they've been friends for almost 20 years.

Before I dig into the history, I want to mention that some Pangxie scenes are actually improvised by ZLY and CMH on set. CHM has played Pangzi several times, and is insanely good at it, so he knows about Pangzi and the character dynamics inside out. While ZLY is new to the DMBJ universe, he did read all the DMBJ novels before the filming of Tibetan Sea Flower, so he has very insightful understanding of the characters and relationship dynamics as well.

For example, according to an interview of the director, this iconic & funny "拜年/new year's greeting" scene in episode 6 was improvised, and the director just decided to keep it in the final cut. In a BTS footage, Pangxie putting peanuts on Feng's very wrinkled test paper in episode 9 was also shown to be something that ZLY and CMH came up with during rehearsing.

The History

In the first paragraph, I mentioned that they went to the same undergraduate university. Another thing that connects them even more is that they went to the same graduate school - Peking University's School of Arts, and both have the master's degree in arts. ZLY fans sometimes just endearingly call CMH “师哥/shige" because of all of this.

In 2006, ZLY and CMH were in the stage play 琥珀/Amber. Here are some rare photos of 26-year old ZLY and 31 year old CMH LOL:

Both of them continued to do a lot of theatre works, some tv/film roles, and also attended grad school in the coming years. ZLY got his breakthrough leading role in 2014, and started to lead in shows/films.

In 2016, ZLY and South Korean actor Jang Hyuk starred in the drama 新海/New Sea, and CMH was seen sharing the following scene with ZLY. Unfortunately, due to China's ban on South Korean entertainment content in the same year, this drama will probably never see the light of day.

Then, I think some of you already know this, in late 2016, CMH directed the stage play Big D, and ZLY was his lead actor in this play. According to different news articles, the tickets of this play were sold out in either 5, 7, or 8 minutes (LOL no idea why there were such discrepancies, but they were sold out within 10 minutes for sure).

In 2018, they appeared in The Sound which is a very good variety show about dubbing. Celebrities were asked to dub domestic and international shows/films (sometimes in both Chinese and English) to show case their voice acting skills and language skills. What's really funny is that ZLY is one of the typical introverts who can be a clown when he's surrounded by people he's familiar with, but once you put him in an unfamiliar environment, he gets nervous and shy. So after he and CMH entered the room together, he just naturally and subconsciously stood right beside CMH, the one he was most comfortable with, even though he was supposed to team up with another actress (who was off screen). He got really confused for a minute when all the other guests and hosts were questioning why he didn't stand beside his teammate LOL.

Both ZLY and CMH are really very low key actors in c-ent, so you don't see them in public events a lot. The last time that they were spotted chatting in public was during the premiere of the movie Under the Light last September.

Anyways, thanks for reading! I hope this can bring some insight into their friendship. You can tell they are just so comfortable with each other, and shooting Tibetan Sea Flower seemed to be such a fun experience for them. I hope they get to work together again soon in the future!

Edit: if you noticed my tags and saw the reply of someone requesting to know why ZLY was picked as Wu Xie: I made a long post here.

#lol i dont like making long txt posts bc it takes even longer time than a long gifset 😅🙃#if anyone's curious why zly is picked for wu xie or his tsf interview please let me know #tibetan sea flower #adventure behind the bronze door #dmbj #cdrama #chinese drama #daomu biji #藏海花 #the lost tomb #zhang luyi #edward zhang #wu xie #chen minghao #wang pangzi #pangxie #cactor #kunsposts

105 notes · View notes

starryschoolgirl · 1 year ago

Text

Family & Fame

An attempt at a Elvis x Reader drabble

Summary -> In private Elvis was your loving husband and you were his doting wife, but in public Elvis was Elvis Presley, and you were just the wife. Unfortunately, sometimes that public dynamic would follow the two of you home, making way for arguments.

Warnings -> Jealousy, marital dissatisfaction, arguments, very cute and domestic 1st scene though, if you only want some pure fluff read that first scene it's adorable, denial of sex, yelling, swearing, flirty fans, circa 1956, Elvis' confusion leads to anger, Elvis is such a cutie I can't even be mad at him in this. Elvis is also a dad in this because I felt like it.

WC -> 3.5k

Request -> "i was wondering if you could write something with elvis x reader where there's a little marital dissatisfaction? just like a little drabble, doesn't even need to be over 100 words"

"You look handsome, now stop fussing"

Elvis leaned into your hand that cupped his cheek which was smooth from being freshly shaved.

"Now,"

You reached down for the comb on the hotel suite's bathroom counter, holding it casually between two fingers. While you smiled up at him your thumb stroked his cheekbone gently as you asked,

"Would ya hold still so I can fix that mess of hair?"

Elvis laughed softly and turned his cheek slightly to press his lips on your palm, smirking sweetly as he murmured against the skin,

"Sure thing Mama…"

With a smile you stilled his head by keeping your hold on his cheek, tapping it lightly you signaled for him to get lower, which he complied with as he bent his knees slightly, lowering himself to a height that you could see the top of his hair better.

As you neatly combed the gelled mess back into place you mumbled fondly,

"See what happens when a man fusses over his appearance? Just makes it worse, you men, so reckless with your hands…"

He asked testily with a smirk,

"And when a woman fusses over her appearance?"

You simply responded with one last perfecting swoop of the comb,

"Women don't fuss."

He drawled out a sarcastic, "Mhm…"

To which he was answered with a pointed, "Mhm."

After feeling pleased with your work you placed the comb down and smiled up at him, "Perfect", you said just before kissing his cheek.

You then turned to the long bathroom mirror that covered the entire length of the long marble countertops, leaning over it ever so slightly to rub at the skin around your lipstick, making sure it wasn't off-kilter in any way.

He smoothly stepped behind you, the front of his body pressed against the back of yours as his spine bent with yours, leaning over you onto the bathroom counter as you eyed him through the mirror. His arms wrapped around your waist and his chin fell to your shoulder as he stared back at you through the mirror.

His voice was low and gruff as he suggested,

"We don't really gotta go to this little gatherin' tonight now do we? Couldn't we just enjoy the rest of our time in San Francisco? We got about 10 more hours."

Elvis punctuated each sentence with a kiss to your neck, right in that spot he knew you were ticklish. You laughed softly and gently batted him away with a few swipes of your hand which in turn made him laugh.

You spoke while trying (and failing) to keep a serious face,

"Elvis, t-the mayor-"

Your laughing made it hard to put together a proper sentence.

"He's holding this soirée tonight in honor of you coming to- Ack..!"

Elvis laughed and said sarcastically before biting your ear,

"Oh, a soirée? I'm sorry little Ms. French I didn't know it was such a big deal"

You tried your best to continue through the giggle-fest Elvis could pull from you.

"Don't you w-wanna show them all that Southern charm you used to get me to marry you?"

Elvis growled playfully as his hands wrapped around your waist tightened and he picked you up from behind, evoking a squeal of surprise from you as he mumbled into your ear,

"Ya make it sound as if I schemed on you with those charms"

You laughed loudly as he held you up and responded,

"You did scheme on me! Made me think I was marrying a John Wayne cowboy type, just to find out you're a Harpo Marx clownish type, but instead of playing a harp you play a guitar"

He growled into your ear "Oh you little-" before ravaging your neck with playful kisses.

A knock on the bathroom door interrupted your fun, the both of you turning to see it soon opening after Elvis', "Come in Roberta"

As the door opened you smiled to see Roberta, the sweet old lady who'd been working for you and Elvis since a month or two after he released his first RCA record which brought in the money needed to have a personal nanny for yours and Elvis' daughter, sweet little Charlotte, who she was holding as she stood in the doorway.

Roberta smiled as she saw her two employers as in love as ever in each other's arms, the both of you looking like a million bucks in your outfits for tonight.

"Well kids, I just wanted to let the two of ya know Charlotte is all dressed and ready to go, and that the bellboy said the car's out front and ready.

She was much older so even though you and Elvis were adults, she still referred to the both of you as kids, because the two of you in life experience were like kittens compared to a sweet old cat like her.

You smiled and quickly made your way to take your daughter out of her nanny's arms, cooing over how darling she looked in her little dress and coat before saying with a smile, "Thank you, Roberta."

You looked back at Elvis as you bounced Charlotte in your arms, asking with a soft smile,

"Could you grab my purse over by the sink Honey?"

-----

Sometimes you forget how Elvis' emotions could flip like a switch.

One moment before walking into the big building as Elvis held Charlotte and nervously stared at the doors, you'd cup his cheeks gently and whisper reassuringly, "Hey, everybody here is here for you, to just be around you. You're the man of the evening, they're the ones who should be nervous right now, and I bet you they are"

And then the next, you're holding your sweet daughter in your arms while Elvis is holding some random girls (who you're sure are somebody's sweet daughters) in his arms as he's telling them what "overcomes" him to make him move on stage.

You could vomit, you really could, at the way they all put their hands mindlessly on his chest, and 'ooh' and 'ah' over him explaining what it was like for him to film his upcoming debut film "Love Me Tender"

You got along well with the mayor's wife and a few of San Francisco's socialites who were older women which meant they weren't here for Elvis they were here because their husbands who were close friends of the mayor were here. Due to their disinterest in Elvis, they were easy to make casual conversation with.

The younger women, however, were a different matter. Most of them clung to Elvis or waited their turn to do so. And as you watched from afar you were well aware you could go over there to claim what was yours, but you didn't feel the need to. The ring was on your finger, and his child was in your arms. Sure, he didn't often make eye contact with you through the night like he always used to, but that was just because he was surrounded by so many fans. Right?

Sometimes through the night, he'd shifted through the room to you, with a group of girls in his arms, only now it was a different set, and of course, the merry mayor following him closely, buttering up to America's icon. You shifted Charlotte to your hip as Elvis introduced you to the short, tubby man.

"This is my wife, and right there is our little girl, Charlotte."

The mayor tipped his head to baby Charlotte in your arms, "It's nice to meet you little miss, and," he then turned his head to you and held his hand out, "It's nice to meet you as well Mrs. Presley"

You laughed softly at the title and politely urged him to just call you by your first name.

The night went on like that, now and then a new important man would shuffle his way into the circle of girls that surrounded Elvis and the two of you would do introductions, eventually, Elvis had offered to hold Charlotte for you, and as he picked her up he smiled at her saying, "There's my little girl", making those big fish eyes that often entertained the little girl.

The women that surrounded him would coo at how sweet of a father he seemed to be. You only watched with an unimpressed look as one of the girls chimed in,

"She's blonde? I thought you said under that mop of shoe polish dyed hair was a light brown color, or are you just trying to fool me, Mr. Presley?"

The girl giggled and obnoxiously leaned her head against Elvis' shoulder and made a playful face at your daughter as she did so, clearly infatuated by the adorable baby, but not as much as she was with the man who had fathered the baby.

Elvis laughed softly at her jest, and responded simply,

"Well Hon, it's true that I have light brown hair now, but when I was a baby I had blond hair, it just turned brown as I got older, happens with a lotta babies"

The girl giggled once more and took an almost mournful sigh as she stared up at Elvis through her batting eyelashes (you were surprised she didn't fly away with how fast those things were flapping), and crawled her hand that rested on his chest a little higher as she spoke,

"I think I'd have to see that to believe it…"

Oh, brother.

You sighed softly at the ridiculousness of these girls, and the added ridiculousness of Elvis actually laughing and smiling along. He would get a little bit of nagging later. Thankfully you didn't have to stomach the situation too much longer as Charlotte began to cry. As Elvis tried to hush her and bounce her in his arms you smiled politely at the girls and made your way closer to Elvis.

As you took Charlotte from his arms you spoke softly,

"I think she's just a bit tired Elvis, I'll calm her in the car for a bit"

Elvis mumbled a soft 'Alright Hon', and caressed Charlotte's cheek gently with his index finger before leaning your way to kiss you. But, feeling as annoyed as you felt now, at the last second you'd turned your head, his lips landing on your cheek rather than your lips, his original target.

But he couldn't say anything as you'd already begun to walk off.

As soon as you slid into the backseat of the car, the driver asked where Elvis was. You explained that you and the little one were just resting up for a bit and that you weren't sure when Elvis would be through. Charlotte had calmed down and quite quickly fell asleep in your arms, the closing of her pretty little eyelids had marked the end of the party for you. You wouldn't leave your baby to sleep in the car alone, and you wouldn't force her to be awake for the rest of the party.

You didn't mind though as you felt all partied out yourself. As much as you hated to admit it, you don't think you ever could get used to seeing Elvis surrounded by girls and entertaining girls the way he'd been since his launch to fame.

You didn't think it was unfair of you to feel this way. It wasn't as if this was something planned when the two of you got together a few years ago. It was only recently that you'd had to start enduring Elvis Presley, the rock and roll heartthrob, and not just Elvis, the dorky boy who drove a truck and had a hard time putting together a neighborhood team to play football with him.

You closed your eyes with a sigh, resting a gentle hand upon your daughter's hair. You leaned your head against the car window, it was cold as the nights were beginning to have a little chill to them. The seasons were changing, and with them, so was Elvis.

Oh well, such is life.

-----

"…Just to the hotel Frank…"

You hummed softly at the familiar voice, pressing your head impossibly closer to the window as you tried to adjust to a more comfortable position. Just as you had settled comfortably back into the window a warm weight in the form of a hand pulled your head elsewhere. You were too tired to care, so you let it, your head soon resting comfortably on familiar broad shoulders.

That voice spoke again, but it seemed that in your half-asleep state, his voice kept coming in and out.

"…took me awhile, but… sorry… gotta entertain the fans…"

You felt annoyed by the voice interrupting your slumber, but you tried your best to ignore it after letting out a disgruntled hum.

It felt as though only a minute had passed since you'd gotten peace again before you heard that familiar voice, your husband's voice, whisper as his hand gently kneaded your shoulder, only now it was coming from the other side.

As you opened your eyes you saw the soft lighting of the hotel's sign lights spilling into the open door of the car along with Elvis' figure outside the car. Now it seemed he was holding a sleeping Charlotte in one arm as his hand tried to soothe you awake.

"C'mon Honey, we gotta get some sleep 'fore the flight"

You hummed softly and after mumbling a 'thank you' to your driver you got out of the car with the help of Elvis' steadying hand which naturally shifted to your hip after you were standing upright.

Elvis unlocked the room and kissed your cheek, mumbling something about the baby and Roberta, you were too busy on a mission to get out of this uncomfortable dress and still miffed at him, to care to process what he was saying. Your mission was to get to the bathroom to get ready for bed, as you made your way there you stopped by your suitcase to grab a short silk nightgown and your robe.

As soon as you stepped into the hotel's bathroom, and Elvis disappeared off to who knows where you could finally let out a breath. You were exhausted but you couldn't go to sleep just yet in your state. You tiredly shuffled over to the sink and began to take apart your pretty party appearance piece by piece. The hair clips that tugged at your scalp now rested on the sink, and the makeup that caked your face now caked a rag.

You struggled to reach the zipper of your dress, and for a moment your body went limp and you debated just going to bed in it. With your head hung tiredly and your eyes closed, you could've fallen asleep standing there had a set of familiar hands not graced your bare shoulders. Elvis' voice close to your ear as he asked through a smirk,

"Ya need help?"

You opened your eyes and looked at him through the mirror, you finally got a good look at him, his hair had been fussed with, could've been from him carding his hands through it throughout the night, or from one of those girls carding their hands through it. You nodded with a sigh, upset with him, but definitely in need of assistance.

As his rough fingers glided along your bare back before working at the zipper, Elvis' lips quickly fell to your neck, placing soft little pecks along the skin. You stared at him through the mirror blankly, and shook your head as you mumbled,

"Not tonight Elvis, I'm too tired…"

He hummed softly as the sound of the undoing of the zipper and the feeling of the dress loosening around your body filled your tired senses.

"Who says ya gotta put in effort Honey? I can handle ya the way I always do,"

You felt his lips curl into a smile against your skin as he murmured,

"I know how ya like it when you're tired…"

You sighed and tried pulling your neck away but his lips followed, and his hands began to explore you thoroughly as the only thing holding that dress on your body was his pressed so close against yours. You quickly stepped to the side, leaving him to shuffle forward as you were no longer there for him to lean his body against.

You kept a hand on your dress to hold it up on your body as he watched with furrowed brows.

"Elvis, I'm not in the mood for it tonight alright? We have a flight in a few hours, I want to get some sleep."

"Baby-"

Elvis reached his hand out to you but you took a step back and shook your head, a firm, "No, Elvis." leaving your lips as you walked to where you placed your nightwear with a hand still holding up your dress. Just as you began to head for the closed bathroom door he followed and asked,

"What's wrong Hon? W-what did I do to ya?"

His voice got louder as the confusion he felt was beginning to get him worked up,

"Seriously Baby, I took ya out to this nice party or fuckin' soirée or whatever pretentious bullshit you called it and this is the thanks I get?!"

You shoved him by the chest as you whisper-yelled, "You're gonna wake the baby..!"

Elvis scoffed as he took a step closer to you, practically caging you against the bathroom's door, his teeth were grit as he stared at you incredulously,

"You've been in a bad mood with me all night, seems like ya haven't even been listening… I told ya I was puttin' her with Roberta tonight! You would know if ya didn't have a stick shoved so far up your ass."

You stared up at him, feeling a pang of hurt at his words. He continued,

"Actin' like you're too good to talk to any of the fans. Spendin' all ya time schmoozin' with the rich old hags who don't give a rat's ass about me or my music"

You abruptly yelled back at him, staring daggers up at him through your teary eyes,

"That's why I was with those women Elvis! Because when I'm hanging out with them I don't gotta watch as they make goo-goo eyes at my fucking husband! I don't need to watch them paw and grab at the father of my child!!"

Elvis shook his head with a scoff and looked away from you, still keeping his hands pressed against the door, caging you in one spot. He mumbled something along the lines of "naggin' me like a jealous old wife…", a term that had only become a thing said in your arguments since Elvis' rise to fame.

You cupped his cheeks in your hand and pulled him to look at you, your voice shook as you affirmed,

"That's cause I am a jealous old wife Elvis… And had I known I would've turned out this way when I married you a few years ago… I…"

Your voice had dissipated before you could finish your sentence. You stared down at the tiled floor of the bathroom. Elvis was still wearing his shoes, whereas yours had been off the moment you stepped into the room. You could see the creases in the shoe of the foot that he was tapping nervously, and you could see the way your toes scrunched tensely.

The bathroom was quiet, and Elvis' voice which was once full of defense was now softened as he spoke quietly,

"Now, ya don't mean that Baby. You're just tired is all…"

He looked down at his shoes nervously and then at himself through the mirror on the other side of the bathroom. His hands that once caged you in landed ever so gently on your arms, his words came out through nervous stutters,

"You were right, we-we gotta catch a-a flight. Better head to bed,"

There he goes. When things get just a little too real, when the words are just a little too honest, and when reality is a little too close to crashing into the both of you, he expertly redirects it all for another time. Wanting to keep his schoolboy fantasy of having a little family of his own intact.

The little fantasy that he would whisper in your ear late at night in high school as the two of you squeezed into his twin-size bed, knowing if he talked at a normal volume the very thin walls of his house would give way to his voice waking his parents in the small room on the other side of the wall.

The little fantasy that he assured your Daddy would come to fruition if he got your parent's blessing. And it seemed so as you soon gave birth to sweet Charlotte, but just months after she was born you saw the first few strands of that fantasy being shot to hell as Elvis' talent had started being recognized.

And though it had only been maybe a year or two since then, you felt as though the boy you married straight out of high school was becoming a man you didn't recognize. And while you could keep the fantasy with Elvis going when the two of you were alone such as during the time you spent getting ready with him, it all crumbled bit by bit as his love affair with the fans and the public would disrupt his love affair with his wife. And he would let it.

So, I meant it when I said it was supposed to be a drabble, less than 100 words, short and sweet, as requested by a lovely anon. Don't know what happened...

#elvis fanfic #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fic #elvis x y/n #elvis fanfiction #elvis x you #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley fandom #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley angst #elvisaaronpresley #50s elvis #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis angst #elvis request

570 notes · View notes

stylescine · 1 year ago

Note

no because i have had this thought since this years met and i NEED to tell someone

imagine like influencer!reader who is doing interviews at the met (kinda like emma chamberlain) and she’s like a very known fan of harry (and was very open ab having a crush on harry online because she was so sure this man would never see it) and she interviews him and is lowk nervous because….. he’s harry styles and maybe he somehow (definitely) KNOWS. she has a massive crush on him and just

basically that!!! so if you could could you write something w that? i’ve had the idea for months it was driving me crazy

lingering

Summary: Everyone knows Y/N has a crush on Harry. But she didn't expect him to know about it too. She could have never imagined things to unfold this way...

Warnings: Y/N has a very obvious crush on harry, fangirling ig???, Harry is a tease, suggestive language, anxious Y/N, oh Harry is also a huge flirt, kind of a fast pace way to a one night stand (no graphic description)

Words: 2.3k

A/N: Gosh, I love that idea!! Influencer!Y/N x Harry is one of my favourite dynamics ever. This turned out way longer than planned but I hope you still have fun with it!

Masterlist | Request

The Met Gala was the event of the year. For everyone. Not only for her. But for her it meant so much more. It was her first opportunity to make the jump from being a simple Influencer to being a real presence in the world of fame and celebrities. Of course, she wasn't just seeking fame and attention, but more possibilities. Open up new ways of life for herself and–

There was a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around in an instant, looking at a familiar PR manager she had talked to a few weeks ahead of the gala.

"I'm so glad you could make it. We were really blown away by the podcast you did and we're excited to see how the interviews on the red carpet will turn out," the blonde woman said, giving her a soft smile. She was wearing a tight black dress, a clipboard in hand, but the blush on her cheeks, combined with the small beads of sweat on her forehead, were the only things telling of today's pressure on her.

Y/N could understand. She had paced up and down in her hotel room earlier today, changing her outfit three times and making sure every little strand of her hair would be in place perfectly. Today was not for imperfections. Today was a step into the future – hopefully.

"I need to thank you for inviting me. This opportunity is really one of a kind and–"

"I'm so sorry, dear," the manager interrupted her as she fumbled around in her small Valentino bag, following the ringing of her phone. "No problem," Y/N replied, giving her a reluctant smile.

She could hear the camera shutters go off in the distance, probably due to the arrival of the first guests. Her palms were growing sweaty. She was getting closer to her "big" moments. Soon, she would be talking to all these famous people, ones she had always looked up to, others she had admired for years.

"It's time to go," the manager said quickly, pushing Y/N into the direction of the carpet. The camera man followed close behind, probably being on her tail the entire day. A microphone was pushed into her hand as well as she stepped out onto the long red carpet, hundreds of photographers waiting on the sides. Their lenses were focused on the few celebrities already on the carpet.

Ryan Reynolds was one of them which made her feel giddy inside already.

But the real surprise came around the corner just a moment later. Flashing lights were going off left and right as he appeared in his lace outfit. It was way more see-through than she could have handled in any other situation.

Harry Styles looked stunning.

Her grip around the microphone became tighter as she watched him pose in front of the cameras, earring dangling on his sides, his hair styled perfectly.

A part of her wanted to rush over immediately. Ask him a million questions and record all of it. Because when would she ever be face to face with the Harry Styles again?

Another part of her, a much stronger one, felt the urge to run backstage and escape this moment. She was way too afraid to embarrass herself in front of her biggest celebrity crush. The worst thing was – everyone knew she had this huge crush on Harry for years. She was quite open when it came to talking with her community about people she thought of as attractive or had a crush on. But she was also usually a thousand miles away from said crushes. It had always been a quiet admiring through her phone screen and giggles exchanged with friends over dinner.

Harry wouldn't know this, of course, but it surely didn't make the situation easier for her.

He seemed to be a walking reminder of what people knew about her and testing her own awkwardness in the process.

Before she could turn around and make her escape to probably lock herself in the bathroom as to not embarrass herself in any way – because that would truly be a tragedy in front of him – he was already right in front of her.

There was the charming, witty smile he was giving his fans or interviewers all the time. His eyes looked a deeper shade of green as she was standing right in front of him. Of course, she had looked at a thousand pictures of him over the last few years, but nothing came close to this moment. Maybe it was the heat that was rushing into her face or maybe the overwhelming urge to present herself from her best side – but it was all so different than she had ever imagined.

Y/N took a long breath. She needed to focus. Or else millions of people would see her shocked expression all over Instagram, Twitter and National TV. So she did what she always did best. Entertain.

She turned towards the camera. "Harry Styles just joined us at the Met Gala!" She said excitedly and none of it was part of her acting. Genuine excitement was bubbling uncontrollably in her belly.

Then she turned back around and shook Harry's hand. It was enough to make her legs wobble for a moment, but she was a grown woman and she would stay calm. On the outside at least.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N."

He knew her name? How did he know her name?

Something had to be wrong. She tried hard to stop herself from pinching her arm in an attempt to wake up from this dream or nightmare – whatever you wanna call it.

"You're looking amazing tonight. Do you mind telling us more about what you're wearing?" She smiled and held the microphone into his direction.

Harry gave her an enthusiastic nod and then started to talk all about the designer of his outfit and how it was composed. She listened carefully, bound to his lips as she had been so many times before through the screen.

He continued to keep eye contact with her, continuously making her nervous. It wasn't his fault. She just wasn't prepared to get any attention at all from him.

"Thank you so much. Are you looking forward to tonight's after show party?" She had so many more questions to ask. About his music. Even about his favourite food. But none of that was expected of her right now and she didn't want to lose herself in the admiration she had kept for that man for so long.

"Definitely. Will you be there too?" Harry tilted his head to the side, slightly – a small sign of curiosity.

The thoughts in her head stopped for a moment. Was he really asking her...? He was just making friendly conversation. Nothing more. The slight smirk in his face was nothing. Nothing to think more about.

"Probably. Maybe we can share a drink if we see each other?" She could feel her palms growing more and more sweaty. Was this really not just a dream?

"That will be on me. See you later then." Then he shook her hand again and she prayed that he wouldn't feel how sweaty she had become. How her nerves were running wild inside her body.

"See you later."

Her face felt like it was on fire just a few hours later. She was looking at herself in the mirror, her hair having turned messy and her eyes almost screaming the truth at everyone.

She was nervous and out of her mind.

The music outside was loud. Giggles and laughter echoed over into the bathroom whenever the door opened and a new woman came in. She had seen so many celebrities today that she had lost count. Some of them asked her if she was alright, if she needed help with her make-up, while others just continued on with their day.

When she was alone for a brief moment, she took a deep breath. "It's gonna be alright," she muttered under her breath before she pushed herself off the sink and went back into the crowded room.

The bar was illuminated with purple lights and that's where she was headed. On her way there, she could see him following her in the corner of her vision.

This was really happening.

"What would you like to drink?" His voice was deep, but loud enough for her to make out his words in the packed room. A shiver ran down her spine when she felt his arm brush hers as he made his way to her side.

Harry leaned against the counter casually, his outfit catching her interest immediately. He had changed into a white shirt with a huge red bow at the front.

And he still looked as good as earlier.

"A Martini is just fine," she answered with a smile, pushing herself to sit on the barstool. Harry ordered two drinks for them, before he sat down on the chair next to her.

"You're enjoying yourself?" His voice was laced with curiosity once more, his hand resting on the bar. She had a hard time not taking a closer look at the rings adorning his fingers.

"Oh yeah, a lot. What about you?"

"The evening is about to get a lot better now that I finally found you," he admitted with a low chuckle and accepted the drinks from the bartender when he came back over.

Y/N could feel her head spinning. What did she do to get all this attention from him? Did he know what he was doing to her? Did he know about her crush on him?

"Those are some pretty heavy words if you acknowledge the fact that we have never met before today," she replied, a simple attempt to cool down herself and ground them both in reality again. Or more so herself.

"That's true, but I like to make people happy."

She almost choked on her drink. He had to know something. How would he know that talking to her would make her day?

Knowing that Harry Styles had probably seen a video of her made her feel even more dizzy.

She needed to loosen up. This would be her only chance at spending an evening with her favourite singer and long-time celebrity crush. Another sip from the Martini as a way to gather some liquid courage as quickly as possible.

"Me too. I hope talking to me makes you just as happy as it makes me," she answered with a smile, gathering all the confidence she had.

Harry's lovely smile as he took a sip from his straw was all she needed as confirmation. Maybe she was in for a good time if she came out of her shell and was able to push her anxiety to the back of her mind.

"It definitely does. I've seen your video on 2010's fashion just a few days ago. It was a really good watch."

She couldn't hold back her huge smile. Harry had seen her videos and liked them. That was more than she had ever hoped for. More than she had ever allowed herself to dream about!

“Oh my god, that means a lot to me, I-“

“I’m so glad you didn’t include my too tight skinny jeans in there, actually. That would have been embarrassing,” Harry joked casually, his eyes wandering from her hands to her mouth and then her eyes.

While his eyes were filled with joy and curiosity, his gaze still seemed to keep her trapped under his spell. There was something undeniably charming and menacing about Harry Styles.

She had known it all along, but seeing it in real life, actually being under said spell, was a different experience entirely.

"I believe they still looked decent," she admitted with a small shrug, taking another sip from her drink.

"You certainly don't look decent tonight. That can only be described as stunning."

She was so taken aback by the compliment that she was close to spitting out her drink. Her hand wrapped tighter around her glass and she was thrown into a spiral of nerves and anxiety. Was Harry Styles straight up flirting with her? He definitely was and she had no idea how to act.

"Have you looked at yours-"

"I don't need to look at myself if I can look at something better." His voice had grown deeper and he moved closer ever so slightly.

She was at a loss for words now. Where was this going?

But she quickly decided that she liked it, despite her initial anxiety.

So Y/N took a step closer as well, her fingers brushing past Harry's as she was setting down her drink on the counter.

"You're really a flirt," she whispered, wondering if he had even heard her over the loud music.

But his eyes seemed fixed on her lips, a smirk resting on his own.

"As you have suspected in a video or two..."

It sent a shiver straight down her spine to get more and more confirmation that he had been watching her stuff. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and she wanted to let him do whatever he wanted.

This was what she had been waiting for.

"Maybe you can prove a bit more of my assumptions right?" She replied, fingers brushing over his forearm, under his sleeve and feeling the soft skin. She wanted to see him without the top. She wanted to finally see that naked chest up close, take a look at every little line of his tattoos and count them all.

"Why would we waste any more time then?" He grinned, his right hand coming up to wrap around her wrist slowly. He took her hand away from his skin, intertwining their fingers slowly before he slid off his chair.

They left their drinks unfinished.

But there was more important business to get to.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #love on tour #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #fine line #harry styles headcanons #one direction #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #one direction imagine #hs1

695 notes · View notes