#Bay View Entertainment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yaut-jaknowit · 8 months ago

Note

Male Yautja with Single Mom Human who got pregnant with Her Ex-Husband who Later Left Her and had Twin Sons and They Both Probably Calling Yautja "Dad" Even though They're not Biological But It's Still Family to Him (Sorry,If It's Not Suitable for Your Fics or/and Headcanons then That's Still Fine) also Will be Platonic at First Then Fluff Romantic,I Think?

Blood in the Water

Pairing: T'a'yta (male Yautja) x AFAB/Mother!Reader

Word Count: 5367

Summary: T’a’yta happens to be around and sees the struggle of this mother. He reveals himself and the mother grows uncertain about him and nearly attacks him. He takes no offense and offers to take her and her children to their home. From there, she offers T’a’yta a chance to swing by at a later time to her house to show her appreciation.

Author Note: Anything really goes with my stories. I write what the people want. I love doing that. I wasn't able to fully finish this to the end of your ask, I hope that's okay. It is about ten pages long so there is plenty to read! To be honest, I love this idea. Though there has been a lot of asks like this of late. What's going on guys?

Part 2

Masterlist

Ao3

The worn engine sputtered and clunked. It gave one last screech before it fell silent. The forward momentum kept it rolling for a football field length before coming to a halt. Now dead in the water, you attempted to turn the key in hopes it would turn back over. It didn’t even give a cry at the try. You cursed under your breath and glanced in the rear-view mirror.

Two toddlers happily kicked their feet, entertained by the outside world of rolling plains. One of your sons, Shawn, whined when the movement of the hills were stopped. “Mama!” he called to you and pointed to the outside world.

“Yes, I know, baby boy. Mom’s gotta fix the car and we’ll be back on the road,” you answered and pulled your phone out to call for help.

At the top of the screen, it read no bars. You cursed to yourself again. A bad habit you needed to stop but have yet to do so.

The second son, the eldest by eighteen minutes, whined and shook his empty bottle in your direction. Simon looked at you with pleading eyes. You unbuckled and turned around in your seat. Both of your children were oblivious to what was happening. A simple road trip to see your folks on a surprise visit was going terribly wrong. Clearly.

It took you less than two minutes to fill up his sippy cup with more water to hold him over for now. You patted each child’s knee and gave them a look. “Okay, I need you two to be good. Mama’s going to get out and see what’s wrong with the car, okay?” Both of them looked at you with little thoughts between their innocent eyes.

With a sigh, you slipped out and popped the hood. Off the top of everything, you couldn’t see what was wrong to have this happen in the middle of the nowhere. Not a build or car in sight. Then your phone, no service to call for help. Anyone to drag your beat up car to a mechanic. It’ll cost you leg but at least your car would be working.

After your divorce with your husband, everything has gone downhill from there. The love you once saw in his eyes disappeared during the pregnancy… The man you once loved faded after you gave birth to his children.

He despised how big you grew, especially with twins. Let alone, yes, the mood swings and cravings. Pickles and peanut butter weren’t health but you needed to have them or you’ll start to cry. Not your proudest moment.

The stretch marks. He was absolutely disgusted with them and refused to touch you, even to help bathe when you couldn’t. You had just been spilt in half to birth two children he wanted and your own husband wouldn’t look at you. That hurt. A lot.

You leaned over the engine bay and sucked in your tears at the flashbacks when your life fell apart. You wouldn’t be stuck in this position if it wasn’t for him. It was all his fault.

Nothing flashed to easily fix the issue. You gave a sigh and returned to the drivers seat. All you needed was this day off to sleep in and relax. Except, the world continued to drag you to the deepest pits of hell to suffer.

In the mirror, you smiled with love sparkling in your eyes. Despite everything that has happened over a year ago, you wouldn’t trade the world for those two boys. They are your world, in all honesty. Both of your children went back to entertaining each other with the toys you’ve brought. Doing this for a year and half, you learn a thing or two.

This situation didn’t give you much for options. You looked around the car to see if that could help because you were truly clueless. If it was just you, you could start the long walk to find cell service. Yet with the twins in the back, all you could do was stay and hope for help. Hopefully help does come or you’ll be in deep trouble once night comes. Or the heat that’s starting to build up inside the car.

In a last-ditch attempt, you turned the keys for your car. As much as you wanted to hope for it to suddenly roar back to life, it stayed silent and dead where it had come to rest. Why did this have to happen to you, right here, in the middle of absolutely nowhere?

The driver side door was open to let in a breeze as you checked your phone again. Just the same reaction to your run-down car. Useless.

While the time ticked on by, your sons grew restless, strapped safely in the car. They whined to get out since the car had been stopped for some time. With no sign of rescue in sight, you slipped out of the car and got into the back seat. Both of them reached for you as you unbuckled them from their restraints.

Shawn was the first to be released and stood on weak legs. His twin brother came to his side and gazed out into the hilly plains that surrounded the three of you. Simon tightly clutched his cup as he wobbled away from you. A close eye was placed on the boy while he sought to explore his surroundings.

On the other hand, Shawn stayed at you lowered form and clutched to your hand. When his brother got to far from him though, he left your side to follow him.

All the hairs on back of your neck stood up. You straighten your spine and scanned the surrounding lands for any sight of a possible other person or animal. Yet, there was nothing to be seen this far out. Nor did anything move and catch your attention. The feeling refused to leave and stuck to you like cold honey.

As the feeling dragged on, your heartbeat increase with each passing second. You could hear it, thundering in your ears. You were already moving towards your two exploring children when you hear clicking. Instantly, you snatched your twin sons up and backed towards the car.

Your back hit met with warmth. Live warmth rather than the steel of a car. You spun around, hands occupied by holding Shawn and Simon at the same time. Nothing immediately caught your attention, and that made the dread brewing in your stomach to worsen. It burned you from the inside out as you tried to plan either an escape or to fight whatever threatened you.

When the light caught something in front of you, you truly peered at what could be blocking your path. You gasped and stumbled back, nearly tumbling over your own big feet. Something was standing in front of you, almost invisible to the naked eye. It was when you didn’t even know to look for it.

Tiny hands clutched at your clothing due to your reaction. Shawn was the first to bury his face into your chest to seek protection. Yet, Simon wiggled and squirmed in a way that made it hard to hold him. You couldn’t even look down to give him the famous mom stare to get him to stop it. “Simon, stop moving!” you ordered the eldest twin, but he didn’t take your tone seriously.

Before you could drop him, he slid down your side to the ground. You snatched his wrist before he could run off to gods knows where. The young boy struggled against your firm grip. “Simon, I swear!” But he refused to listen even when you sent the stare directly at him.

It hurt you to do this but this was a dangerous moment. You roughly tugged on Simon’s hand and dragged him away from the camouflaged creature before you. He screamed in frustration and started to hit your hand. “I am your mother! Listen to me, goddamnit.” At a later time, you would hold him close and apologize for your harshness. Yet, with an unknown threat hanging before your sons, you acted in instinct to protect them.

Simon glared his own tiny daggers at you and clawed at your tight grasp. A bruise could appear later but right now, when you didn’t know was standing in front of you. There were a lot more important things to fret about than a bruise.

Like from a comic book or sci-fi movie, a humanoid form waxed into appearance. All the muscles that lined your back tensed. A cold dread entered your fiery veins and froze you to the spot. Simon was able to escape ran up. You stared in terror and gripped onto Shawn, unable to react in time.

The figure sat down on its haunches, still a towering form, and tilted its head at the bouncing child. His exploration side flaring its head at the worst time possible.

Your heart thundered in your ears, roaring like a storm brewing in the middle of the sea. Simon reached it on wobbly legs and flopped onto the thick thighs of this ‘person’. You couldn’t tell what it was.

A metal mask covered its facial features, leaving you blind to what laid behind. Primitive armor of sorts covered the most important parts of a human. Relatively close to a fishnet like wire covered its body starting from the neck and down to its legs. It was ripped in some areas, clearly used and worn. Worn for what? And… and why was it wear stripper clothing?

Out of your children, Simon had to be the people person. He hugged onto this things leg like a lifeline and giggled his cute little laugh. Any other situation, you would’ve smiled at him and laughed alongside him. You clutched Shawn tighter to your side and watched with bated breath for this thing to do something.

The masked person reached out and offered a massive, scaly hand to Simon. The young child ‘oo’ed at the sight, immediately drawn to the different skin texture than his own.

Shawn began to squirm in your hold. You whipped your head to gaze at him. He made grabby hands towards his twin brother and the humanoid creature. The hairs along your arms bristled. “Absolutely not!” you scolded and returned your gaze on the two.

The incredible size difference didn’t seem to effect this being. Instead, it looked like they took it into great consideration and was soft with the way it moved towards him. Simon latched onto the offered limb and brought it up to his face for a close examination. With a bout of excitement, he spun around and thrusted the hand into the air. “Mommy look!” he cheered as if he had found gold.

A great amount of weight lifted off of your shoulders. You nervously laughed with an unsure smile. “That’s great honey. Now, come over here, please,” you demanded rather than ask Simon to listen to you for this once. Yes, it seemed like the thing humanoid wouldn’t hurt a hair on Simon. You refused to let your guard down for one millisecond. Life lessons and all that fun stuff.

Simon started to pull on the hand, tipped with short yet lethal claws. Talons that could gut you or your children if you did one wrong move.

What had you gotten yourself into? A day vacation turning worse with every passing second.

You watched with a fragile gaze, on the verge of breaking if it moved for an attack. Parental instinct and all that would damn you in this situation. If this creature turned, you couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Not with the way it held itself. Not pride… no. But with an air that consisted that it knew what it was doing.

It followed after Simon, letting him guide it over to you. The entire time, hunched over to allow constant contact with the older twin. Simon stopped in front of you and offered the hand to you; to check it out yourself. “No… no honey,” you refused and shook your head kindly. “I’m all good. I-I can see.” You cursed the slip up stutter in your words. Not like it couldn’t read the terror shining in your eyes, or the realization this creature could kill you at any second.

“Mama, take. Look.” Stubborn as a mule, a trait the two of them got from both of their parents. Shawn squirmed in your hold again and finally slipped down. On his feet, he stepped up to the masked figure and wrapped his arms around one of its legs.

Then, a glint entered Simon’s innocent eyes. The older one latched onto the other leg and looked up at the imposing figure who stood at least a good head taller, if not two.

“Kids,” you called to them but didn’t gain their attention. “Simon, Shawn. Let go. We… we need to get going.”

“Mister, what you are?” Shawn asked and tugged on a long piece of cloth tied to the waistband of the figure’s pants. You were growing frustrated at the lack of obedience in such a dire situation from your children. If you were to survive this, you were going to have a long sit-down with them and ensure they knew the consequences of not listening. Especially when their life could be in danger.

Worst of all, you couldn’t even plan a way to attack this lumbering giant. The thing was massive not just in height but in stature as well. The barrel chest, large muscles that adorned its arms and legs. You didn’t dare even take a step towards it. Not when it could see you as a threat and leave you a bloodied mess for your sons to witness.

“You better listen to your dam,” a voice that easily matched the body spoke in a tone that left little room for arguing. Yet, it wasn’t to threaten or cause any issues with you. Not, he seemed to be attempting to help you in this situation. Then, he tilted his head up and looked at you with emotionless dark pits. “I’m not going to harm them.”

As much as you prayed for those words to be completely truthful without doubt, you still kept your guard up.

“But, I know how dams can be. Protective over their littles.” The more it spoke, the more you realized it wasn’t an average person’s voice you were hearing. It sounded a bit gruff, rough around the edges, as if it wasn’t a language he was meant to speak. He rose his arms in surrender and offered his palms towards you. “I extend a helping hand instead to show I do not have intentions of harm towards your family unit.”

You straightened yourself and set a glare on the masked beast. “Who and what are you?” you demanded and possibly pushed your luck with his declaration earlier. Before you can offer him a single once of your trust, he must be willing to fork over ten times of yours worth.

He settled back down on his haunches and allowed for you to take the tallest title for the time being. Simon and Shawn were forced to move and practically thrown themselves onto his thighs. “What are you?!” Shawn interrogated their newfound friend. Worse than the monster friend in their closet that freaks you out every time they talk about it.

He’s able to pull himself onto one of the beast’s thighs with his help. Shawn sits unsteadily and pointed at the metal mask adorning his strange friend’s face.

The entire time the creature interacts with your children; the way he’s extremely gentle, slow movements; the way he gets down to their level; the way he doesn’t mind them climbing on him… he must be a father himself or knows great patience. You only let your shoulders slack a centimeter.

Still on his haunches, he tilted his head up slightly to gaze at you once more. Without saying a word, his hands come to the mask and go through a worn routine of disengaging it. Muscle memory detached the metal from his face.

Your head jerked back yet you didn’t make a sound. That wasn’t what you were expecting. Then, you blinked a few times. This thing wasn’t anything on earth. No, not with the way if just appeared out of thin air and the facial structures. “You’re an alien, aren’t you?” you questioned, breaking the quiet air that filled the space.

What you believed to be an alien smirk graced his features. One of his strange four fangs rose into a grin. A knowing glint entered his baby blue eyes. “A smart dam,” he mused and bowed his head in a slow motion. “Yes, you caught me. I am an alien in your terms.”

“Alien?” Simon questioned and turned his head to look at you. “Mama, what is alien?” On the other leg, Shawn had spun around with the careful guide of the creature and leaned into his torso.

“An alien is a species that comes from space, not native to our planet,” you explained, hopeful the terms were small enough for either of them to understand. Then, you returned a hardened gaze the alien. “Do you have a name?” Again, you wanted to know what was possible before even entertaining the idea of accepting whatever help he thought was right for the situation.

He lifted his head back up. “T’a’yta and yours?” he returned the gesture in full warmth. The longer he talked with you, the more you grew to be lax around him. Not by much but enough to loosen the tension growing in your muscles.

It was soft on your lips, your name. He tested it on his alien tongue then gave each child a gentle shove off. They whined but were given no choice besides off. Shawn came back to your side and held onto your leg in the same manner he did to T’a’yta.

“And what is this help you offered in the beginning?” you asked afterwards. The cedar-colored alien returned to his full height but a respectful distance away from you.

His head turned towards the crappy car that had started all of this. “I see your mode of transportation has failed you. I have one of my own. I couldn’t bare to turn a blind eye to a dam in trouble. I would like to offer you a ride back to your home,” T’a’yta explained and glanced over your shoulder.

Your expression softened at his confession, eyes flickering down at your children. They had to be getting hungry. The snacks you brought probably won’t last longer than an hour. There was night as well. Darkness would soon swallow you and your family up… and you didn’t know how long it would be before help arrived.

Despite him not showing any signs of harm, you still eyed the creature with suspicion. “And what do you want in return?” you retorted and gave him a hardened stare. You had found aliens exist yet you didn’t know if this one was completely friendly. Who knows what it might do to you if you put your guard down?

T’a’yta snorted and shook his bowed head. “I do not want anything as payment. I’m not doing this to except something in return.” A person with years of patience built under his belt. He didn’t act offended by your question and simply answered it. He didn’t give you any reasons for doubt. “If you wish not for my help, then I accept that. But I will not leave until you and your little ones are safe.”

If only your ex-husband was as thoughtful as a random alien willing to protect you out of nowhere.

The decision came quick to you. You nodded your head towards T’a’yta. “Alright. I’ll accept your offer… Thank you.” T’a’yta smiled at you then motioned his hand for you to turn around. You quirked a brow before slowly listening to him and spinning on your heel. The alien moved around you, your children in tow as they followed the coolest thing they’ll ever see in their lives. You smiled to yourself at the sight shadowed after T’a’yta.

He led you about a hundred yards from the road before coming to a stop. Confused, you paused as well and waited for him to reveal why he had taken you this far from the road.

Unease boiled in your stomach. You eyed the alien with a weary eye all over again yet kept your trap shut in case something you said could turn him.

One hand pressed two buttons on his metal gauntlet. In a similar fashion of how he waxed into existence, a spaceship appeared before your very eyes. This was very Stars Wars like. Your jaw dropped as you stared upon this craft and alienness it had.

A hiss sounded from the metal ship before a ramp began to lower from the belly. It felt like you had been transported into some sci-fi movie.

You were pulled from your shock by a tug on your leg. Shawn stood at your feet and put his arms up for you lift him. Muscle memory had you bending down and scooping him off of the ground. He looped his arms around your neck then looked over at T’a’yta. You walked over to the alien and stood shoulder to bicep with him. “I can’t believe aliens are real,” you whispered the confession.

T’a’yta snorted and shook his head. The weird rubbery, round bands that hung from his domed head snaked with the movement. Metal trinkets adorned the dreads and clinked against one another. “Oomans and their lack of thoughts. Aliens have always existed. There’s always something out there in the big, expansive universe. Not even I know what all lies out there and I’m over five hundred years old in ooman years.” As he spoke all of this, he began to stroll over to the ramp and leading the group. You followed along, hooked into everything all despite the possible danger.

At his last few words, you stopped mid-step with a bewildered expression falling upon your features. “Five hundred?! Five hundred?” you sputtered and blinked a few times to comprehend all of this. Not that you knew what an old whatever his species is looked like, he didn’t even act like someone even hitting thirty.

“Again: lack of thoughts. You will never be alone out there. Life finds a way.” He reached the top of the ramp and motioned for you to keep up. Even Simon was able to run after him with that cute little toddler run and looked back at you.

“Stop being slow, mama. Keep up!” Simon scolded with a childish scowl and held onto T’a’yta’s leg. The cedar brown alien bent at the waist and patted the top of your son’s head.

Simon let a grin spread across his face and leaned up into the affection. You sighed and strolled up the ramp after them.

The new sight of the inside of an alien spaceship washed over you. Yet, it was surprisingly subtle in here. There was detail in here but mostly simple designs. Just a vehicle for transportation or something who didn’t need much to be happy.

Once you had entered along with them, T’a’yta pressed the same two buttons again. The ramp hissed again and began to close. T’a’yta motioned with a jerk of his head to follow after him and started to walk further into the ship. You took a deep breath and listened to him with just a hint of apprehension in the moment. The door to the outside world was now closed, locking you in here with him.

Through three doors, he took you to what had to be the cockpit of his ship. Out in the distance, was a tiny white dot on the road. Your car.

“I would advise you to take a seat during takeoff,” T’a’yta expressed and sat down on a seat that easily fit his larger complex. His hands moved with muscle memory as they went over the console, typing and pressing the proper buttons. You listened to the engines fire up underneath your feet before stepping up to a chair that you knew would swallow you up.

You sat down and held Shawn close to you. Simon was still at T’a’yta’s feet and held onto his knee. With a sigh, you patted your leg. “Simon, come here,” you called to your other son.

T’a’yta easily scooped the child off of the ground and held him in one arm close to him. “It’s alright. You’ve got your hands full with the one. I can watch over this one.”

At first, you apprehensive about letting him hold Simon. Yet, you pushed down the helicopter mom instinct inside of you and slowed your heart down.

The ship rumbled while T’a’yta added power to the engines. They started to lift the vessel off of the ground and further into the air. You gripped onto the chair and held Shawn close. Being in a plane was completely different than this. You held your breath, tense as you felt the craft lift off even more.

“Now, where to?” he questioned with an ease voice, soothe. Your eyes cracked open without realizing they had been shut and glanced over at him. T’a’yta cradled Simon close to him while letting the child have room to wiggle if he so pleases.

An address tumbled out of your lips. T’a’yta let his fingers glide across a screen and hit enter. His hand fell away from the controls. The giant alien swiveled around in his chair to face you.

“In all my years, I’ve never once crashed any of my ships. I promise you with my heart you and your offspring are safe in my hands.” His words helped ease a little tension sitting on your shoulders. “You are free to move about as well. Take-off can be a little unpredictable in some cases.”

He easily picked up Simon and set him back on ship’s floor. Said child began to explore his newfound surroundings with vigor. To ease the tension settling in your bones, you nervously smiled at T’a’yta. “You know, Simon is a huge explorer. He’s gonna find something he shouldn’t probably be in.”

Two of his upper mandibles quirked up. “Sounds like me when I was kid and I turned out fine,” he jestered and motioned towards himself. You huffed through your nose. The alien was scared and armored, ready to take on an army at a moment’s notice. Now, that you were thinking about. He probably could take on the army.

Shawn shifted and slid off of his lap. “And there goes Shawn. Wherever Simon goes, Shawn loves to follow him,” you said to the quiet air and watched as the two went over to the controls.

Even to you, the controls sat higher than you thought was comfortable to use. You knew they wouldn’t be able to reach them.

“They are twins, yes?” T’a’yta asked and leaned back in his chair, lax in his position. From the corner of your eyes, you glanced at him. Despite the terrifying creature he looked like, he showed nothing but peace. You reclined in your chair and brought your legs to sit comfortably in the large seat.

The ship lightly shuttered at the touch down. Both of your kids whined but otherwise stayed silent in your arms. T’a’yta moved from his seat and stalked over to your seat. With a tired look in your eyes, you looked up at him and gave a weak smile at him. The days events had dragged away what energy you had left. T’a’yta nearly talked you into sleep. Your sons have already dozed off at least an hour ago.

His towering form stood before you. “I can carry them for you,” he offered in a voice no louder than a breath. The smile only grew on your features. You timidly nodded your head. T’a’yta easily scooped both of them out of your lap and cradled them close to him. A move only an experienced father would know and be able to do after so many times.

You untucked yourself from the seat and stood up, arms stretched high above your head. Little thought was given to follow the large mass as he moved through his own ship. He kept a pace you would be able to shadow easily in your tired state.

In all of its run-down glory, your apartment complex greeted you. With a sigh, you pulled your keys from your pocket and found the proper key. This time, you guided T’a’yta to the third level and towards a door you’ve grown to learn after a year and half of living here. You kept an eye on the alien’s gaze but it didn’t change one bit. Either, he was amazing at steeling his expressions or he truly didn’t judge the conditions of your living. It was the best you could supply on one income.

The inside of your apartment hadn’t changed one bit over the course of twenty four hours. You breathed in its familiar scent, relieved to be home. You glanced back at T’a’yta who had to duck to enter your dwelling. Both of your sons are still cradled in each of his arms. A soft smile was brought to your face at the sight. You walked over to their shared room. “Over here,” you whispered into the silent air.

T’a’yta entered and set both children down in a bed. It didn’t matter which one. The two of you exited the bedroom for the living room and sealed the door behind you.

With just him in your presence, you could feel a little more at ease. You didn’t need to worry about your children getting harmed in anyway around him.

“Thank you… for everything. I’d still be out there right now,” you voice your appreciation to the alien. T’a’yta stood a respectful distance away from you and yours bedroom door.

He bowed his head. “I’m glad to be of assistance.”

Now, a silence fell over the two of you. You gnawed on your bottom lip, words on the tip of your tongue. When he dipped his head and went to turn away, you sprung forward and gripped his arm. His skin was warm the touch and rough underneath you softer fingertips. Instantly, you jerked your hand away, hoping you hadn’t offended him.

“Do-don’t go… I-“ you cleared your throat and had to look away when he turned to you. “I would like to offer you a chance for dinner. As a thank you. I would cook you dinner. Or-or, you’re more than welcome to come back at, at anytime.” You were on the verge of face palming at your stupidity and nonsense you sputtered to him.

The alien chuckled, shoulders jumping with the sound. “I told you. There is no need for repayment. I did this out of the kindness of my heart.” You gave him a pleading look. You didn’t want this to be the last time you saw him.

“I know this. Please, just entertain my stupid idea.” T’a’yta looked at you for a long time before shrugging. Your face brightened with a smile, toothy and all.

“Alright. I shall return into three days. Is that enough time for you to plan this dinner?” he questioned.

You rapidly nodded your head. “Plenty. Thank you, thank you. Again. I-I just want to ease my consciousness. I wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully knowing I’d done anything to thank you.”

“Of course. I will see you in three days’ time.” T’a’yta took his leave then. The door softly clicked behind his retreating form.

A new silence engulfed you. You turned around and faced the door your children were in. They were safe because of T’a’yta. An alien. He was nice. Much nicer than a lot of folks you’ve met and he was an alien. An alien who looked like he could crush your skull with two fingers. You took a deep breath in before heading to your own room. It had been a long day.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #predator x reader #alien vs predator #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #T'a'yta

958 notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 1 year ago

Text

Three, Two, One: Part 1 of 3

Hello beautiful people! I have decided to turn this part one-shot into a two-part series - SPECIFICALLY because I wanted it to be happy and playful, but it is leaning into a super HARD angst and I didn't want to spoil the playful vibe 👌

Word Count: 3,928

Warnings: mentions of tobacco, nicotine and addiction.

Song accompaniment: Know You Girls, Honey, Boy Toy

Fic Request Prompt by: @terarria-sunflower. Masterlist Here.

“Three, two, one,” you glanced down at your rotund, egg-shaped ticking timer as it began to shake as soon as the final number fled softly from your lips. A small smirk pulled at the corner of your mouth as you gazed at the blonde chef as he placed the relinquished cigarette butt within his ashtray; closing the metal lid to keep the cinders away from tainting the blue ocean with its waste.

“Down to the last second,” you muttered again to yourself, shaking your head while opening your journal and jotting down a new number within the pages. You flipped the yellow ribbon back within the page and shut your book; the several ribbons swaying at the bottom of the journal as you wrapped it around in its bound leather strap to place back atop the table.

As ship’s chronicler, you were tasked with notetaking and scribing the comings and goings aboard the Going Merry; a task which you undertook with complete precision and gusto. You had everything down to a fine craft; from documenting strategic battle maneuvers, to how many engagements in combat Zoro completed before his blades needed repair, down to exactly when the ship would need to pull in to resupply the kitchen with fresh ingredients, and the vessel with fresh medical supplies.

Your attention was being currently drawn to cataloguing the kitchen, searching through the prior menus Sanji had completed to determine which items took priority to resupply. As the kitchen was the blonde chef’s domain, you were spending far more time with him currently than the other members of the crew. You adored how passionate he was about food, and reveled in his eagerness to offer flirtations with you. Originally, you paid his flirtations very little mind; drawing conclusions that his words and gestures was built into his character as his occupation moulded him.

However, as his flirtations became more bold with his subtle smirks and playful words directed towards you; you decided it would be amusing to return his gestures, primarily out of boredom in your travels. Immediately, you found entertainment with how flustered you could make him, how his eyes would twinkle widely and his chin would fall to the ground to have his face shrouded by his blonde hair to shield the rising blush from your view.

Gentle touches of his hands brushing against yours as you passed him your journal to look over your kitchen restock notes, leaning yourself towards him over the kitchen benchtop with a playful bite of your lip while you asked him a mundane question, sitting in silence as he lit a cigarette and gawked at you while you read over your notes; crossing your right leg over your left and absent mindedly brushing your toes against his outer thighs with a light smirk.

It was truly a joy to see him flustered. He knew all of the right words and actions to pose towards others in playful advance, but never quite knew how to process the same unbridled gestures when they were reflected back onto him.

As Sanji walked his away from the wooden frame of the Going Merry’s kitchen bay-window, he turned towards you and smiled his beautiful, cuspid smile as you. Your heart began to swell at his attention, prompting you to look up at him half-lidded and cock your head to the side.

“What are you doing in here, beautiful?” he asked, continuing his approach.

“Oh, just cataloguing in the log book while enjoying the view,” you taunted him back with your playfulness, shamelessly raking your eyes over his torso, down his legs and back up to meet his gaze; “the ocean outside the window is nice to look at, too.”

He paused his movement, a small flustered panic behind his eyes before his smile spread further to his face, “You like what you see, then?” He gestured his hand over his body and arched his eyebrow upwards in question. He was wearing his blue and white-striped shirt with his black tie clasped firmly around his neck; sleeves fastened down at his wrists, secured by black buttoned cuff-links.

Your smirk drew into a broad smile as he continued to step closer to you, you confirming: “yes, chef.”

He allowed a large laugh to escape his parted lips, shaking his head at your brazen sanction.

“You hungry?” he asked once his laughter teetered off.

“Barely,” you shrugged, rising to your feet from your place sitting above deck, “but if it means spending more time with you, I’ll accompany you here the kitchen and aid your preparation for-,” you paused, reopening your journal and skimming it’s pages before locating the correct passage; “-Luffy’s second afternoon tea before dinner?”

He again chuckled at you, beginning to roll up his sleeves by unbuttoning his cuffs; “alright then, come and help me. Keep me company.”

You smiled again at him before reaching down towards the table and retrieving your egg-shaped timer from atop the wooden surface and holding it firmly within your hands. Sanji furrowed his brows, looking at the timer in your hands; “what’s with the timer?”

“Oh,” you shrugged, patting him on the shoulder as you moved past him, “nothing that should concern you.” He cocked his head up at the comment, intrigued by your nonchalant comment. You placed the object back down beside your journal, fixed to remain in its non-ticking nor shaking state for the interim as you readied yourself to begin aiding Sanji with the formulation of the meals.

“Okay then, let’s get started,” he began after rinsing his hands thoroughly, turning to his work station and bringing out several ingredients to ready preparation for Luffy’s snack; a two course meal with several sweet and savoury elements that were not too difficult to execute. You began to lather your hands with soap to wash them before you made your way to aid Sanji with food preparation.

While your back was turned and your egg timer and journal were left unattended; Sanji felt he had no choice but to peruse through the pages, finding your latest entry with the yellow ribbon: the colour he knew represented his entries for your chronicler-duties. Your journal was by no means taboo nor out of bounds for any members of the crew, but as Sanji searched through the pages; he was secretly hoping to find some semblance of minor infatuation towards him.

You both flirted with each other incessantly and constantly aboard the ship, and while travelling from port to port. Sanji couldn’t help but to be wooed by your words and actions, hoping that what began as entertainment from boredom grew as much for you as it did for him; hopefully fanning the flames of a small crush on your crewman into potentially developing into a deeper relationship.

You placed an apron over your head and secured the strap around your waist to stop any food items from falling to your clothes accidentally as he watched you over his shoulder; before hunching back over to find anything of the romantic nature between the pages.

He skimmed over his routine, noting several lines of ingredients he neglected to inform you in need of resupply already added to the journal. He sighed, contented and relieved to see you were effortlessly able to pick up on his subtle substitutions he used to cover the need for the missing ones; grinning at the knowledge of how attuned you were to his actions and efforts as chef aboard the vessel. In his daily schedule, he noticed several small crosses flurrying throughout his comings and goings; numbers written next to each cross.

He furrowed his brows and continued skimming over the pages, passing now onto the green-ribbon section: Zoro’s routine, noting his schedule had no crosses nor numbers. He deepened his frown and looked to the orange, red and blue ribbons for Nami, Luffy and Usopp’s schedules and noticed no crosses on their schedules either. Was this the answer he was looking for? He needed to know, and he needed to know, now.

“Hey, love?” Sanji spoke up, alerting you of his attention. You creased your brows at him, noting he had opened your log-journal and was reading his pages; “what are all these marks?”

Wiping your hands on a hanging blue and white kitchen towel, you turned to approach him; leaning your elbow on his shoulder as he turned his body into you, keeping his sights held to the pages of his schedule. You tilted your head towards your notation and narrowed your eyes before turning away from the pages to look at the blonde chef to your side.

“Those are your cigarette breaks, Sanji,” you smiled at him, reaching up to move his blonde hair away from shielding his eyes from you, “I’ve timed them.”

You turned away from him towards the kitchen counter and began sorting through the stock and comprising them into an order of need: items that needed to be cooked and items that only required assembly.

Sanji turned his eyes back to the page and creased his brows at the notes, looking over and acknowledging truly how many times he sought out the nicotine hit within his day to day activities. Although he didn’t manage to secure what he was hoping for, he remained perplexed by the sheer number and time throughout the day he received his dose of nicotine; almost angry at himself for the total amount.

“I have that many?” he asked, rethreading the ribbon back into the pages and putting the journal back atop the counter next to the egg timer.

“That you do, chef,” you nodded, continuing to sort out the piles of ingredients and readying a knife to begin peeling. Sanji hummed, looking over at you as you began peeling fruit with the edge of your knife. He emptied his pockets, placing his tobacco pouch, ash tray and lighter next to your journal before equipping himself with an apron to join next to you.

You both continued to prepare Luffy’s second afternoon snack together, laughing at something one another said and flirtatiously advancing each other with nothing more than a gentle graze of a shoulder or a brush of a fingertip as you continued working with one another. Once you had completed the task, Sanji removed his apron and began reaching toward his tobacco pouch and ash tray. A sly and mischievous look fell over your features.

“Can I ask you a question, chef?” you asked in a slight hint of mischief in your tone, prompting him to halt his retrieval of the pouch for a moment. You removed your apron and hooked it over a brass kitchen rail.

“Anything for you, love,” he smirked at you, turning around to face you and scrunching up his nose playfully. You tilted your head, walking closer to him and gazing up into his eyes.

“What is it about cigarettes that have such a hold over you?” you asked him curiously, “obviously it is the nicotine addiction, but is there more to it than just that?”

Sanji broke his sights away from you and looked off to the ceiling in thought with a small hum.

“You know,” he began with a nod, turning his eyes back down to meet your gaze, “I hadn’t given it much thought until now, truthfully. Maybe the rush? Taking a moment to myself? Could just be the chemical endorphins or the adrenaline, really.”

You nodded and downturned your lips in thought with a shrug. Sanji smirked at you, half-lidding his eyes mischievously before asking; “Why? You got a theory?”

“Frankly, I think it’s primarily about the nicotine,” you nodded, a wince of a smile falling to your face, “you should really think about breaking the habit, it’ll shorten your life and ruin your palate in the long run.”

You flicked your index finger over his chin playfully, a flirtatious grin rising again to your lips; “gotta keep that talented tongue in peak shape for when we get to the All-Blue. Can’t have everything tasting like ash now, can we?”

A small pink hue rose to his cheeks as you allowed a small giggle to escape your lips. You turned away from him to collect your journal, revelling at how flustered you made the flirtatious chef.

“You make a fine point, beautiful,” he broke his face back into a smile, “how do you suggest I get my fix? Save my palate,” he added with a small chuckle.

You halted your step and quirked your head to the side before turning back to face him again.

“Let’s look at natural remedies,” you pondered, looking upwards at the ceiling, a list forming in your mind; “for adrenaline, why not spar with Zoro? He’d likely appreciate the amount of practice he could get in.”

Sanji hummed, stepping his body closer to you, “doesn’t really serve the endorphin release now, does it, love?”

You giggled in response, again looking towards the chef in thought, “you could go for a quick dip in the ocean? Breath control and adrenaline with that one.”

“And strip off my clothes multiple times a day?” he shook his head with a large grin forming, “I hardly see that as a helpful alternative. Again, it misses the endorphin release and doesn’t meet the accessibility criteria.”

You furrowed your brows and pursed your lips in thought. He chuckled again, turning back to face the table to retrieve his tobacco pouch and lighter, beginning to assemble a cigarette; rolling the tobacco within wafer-thin paper and adding a thin filter port to the end of it. He leant against the table, hips aligning with the height as he reclined back into it. As he brought the filter end to his lips, a stroke of genius struck you. He rose his lighter towards his lips and made to cradle the flame to ignite the end, halting at your next words.

“Kiss me,” you uttered softly with your head swaying as you held a small shyness to your voice, a tone Sanji almost missed. His eyes widened, mouth falling slightly ajar as his cigarette clung to his bottom lip.

“What was that-?” he asked in an utterance slightly more elevated than your own. You looked up at him with a small playful grin as you took your bottom lip once again within your teeth to bite it.

“Breath control,” you said more confidently, beginning to step closer towards him, “adrenaline release,” you raked your eyes over his body before settling on holding his eyes firm to you, “endorphin rush? I’d say a simple kiss would meet the criteria.”

His breath hitched within his throat at the suggestion, prompting him to reach up and remove the cigarette from between his lips and place it on the table behind him.

“You’re saying I can kiss you-,” he confirmed with a small hint of both delight and apprehension, “-for as long as I want?”

You giggled, reaching past him to retrieve your egg timer, “I’ll allow you to kiss me for as long as you need to.”

Sanji quirked his head at your actions, widening his eyes at the egg timer in your hands before a small chuckle fell from his lips. You stepped within his personal proximity after searching his eyes for any apprehension to do so. Meeting none, you settled comfortably in the space between his legs as he remained reclined against the table.

“And judging from your routine: with your mornings, you take about two minutes per cigarette,” you nod your head, rolling the timer within your hands, “your afternoon ones are down to a solid three and a half to four,” he nodded, taking your wrists within his hands and looking down still at the timer, “your before dinner cigarette is about one and a half, because you’re desperate at that stage,” he snickered at your comment, you giggling again in tow.

“And my after dinner one?” he asked you in a breathy, almost frantic voice, “surely I take my time with that one-.”

“-The after dinner one, you usually take around three,” you cut him off with a small giggle, “but your before bed one,” you nudged your nose under his chin to bring his gaze up to meet you once more, “that’s where you take your time with a solid five,” you whispered suggestively close to his jaw.

A small whined-groan escaped from him as he began to chase your face to seek to capture your lips in a kiss, meeting only the tips of your fingers pressed against his lips in response. He furrowed his brows and flittered his eyes down towards your hand and back to gazing intensely into your eyes.

“Hold on, big boy,” you warned him, scrunching up your nose playfully, “I have to set the timer first, or it’s all for naught.”

He nudged your hand away with his chin and a small growl escaping his lips in displeasure at your apprehension. You chuckled at his eagerness, allowing your hand to fall onto his cheek in a gentle caress.

“Surely not for the first one,” he commented hoarsely, desperately as he began reaching down to take the timer from your hands; only to be met with your hands closing over the egg-timer and holding it firmer, “just a taste-.”

“-It’s part of the fun,” you smile at him, floating your gaze over his face; falling on his lips before rising up again to meet with his eyes, “otherwise it won’t work and you’ll be back to square one."

He hummed in response, almost in a low whine as he pressed his forehead against you and grazing his hands down your ribcage to settle against your hips; “and what do you get out of aiding me with my fix?”

“I get the knowledge,” you whisper against his jaw, grazing your lips along his skin slowly, “that I’m the one bringing the rush to you, Sanji. I’m the one making you feel good.”

“Set the timer,” he growled firmly, eyes darkening with his pupils blown out and intense with desire, “four minutes.”

“Oui, chef,” you whispered with a small giggle in anxious anticipation, pulling your lips away from his jaw and turning towards your egg timer; winding it to the appropriate duration.

“Okay Sanji, the time starts: n-,” your words are halted by his the soft but intense collision of Sanji’s lips overzealously engaging in entanglement against your own. You squealed slightly at the immediacy of his reaction, your eyes wide as you stared at his closed eyes as his brows creased in intensity with your cheeks held firmly within his hands.

You reached slowly behind him to place the timer down on the table and raked your hands over his back and slid your fingertips against his flesh and holding his hips firmly while closing your eyes. You shifted your lips against his, opening them to deepen the kiss and allow him to glide his tongue behind your entrance to dance with your tongue. You gasped as soon as the contact was made, feeling a sharp piece of metal beneath the muscle, attached firmly to his frenulum. A piercing? Sanji has a tongue piercing?

He smiled into the kiss, feeling your shock as you brushed your tongue with his. He retracted the muscle from your mouth and began to place rougher kisses, assaulting your lips while raking his fingers through your hair and cradle your head further against his own. He rotated his head to continue the deep and rough engagement, prompting a whimper-like moan to fall from your lips in response.

As he remained reclined against the table, you wavered in your mind how much more adrenaline you could spike into his bloodstream to elevate his heartbeat further. Deciding to not withhold your ministrations; you pulled yourself further against his hips and hooked your right leg over his left and guide his left hand from your hair to wrap around your thigh. A groan fell from his lips as he reclined against the table further, unbreaking the kiss from your lips as he eagerly began to support your weight against him with fervour.

He pulled his other hand from your hair as you laced your hands behind his neck to hold him further into yourself. Just as you tilted your head and made to rake your fingers into his hair while he reached down to grip the back of your other thigh to hoist you up against himself fully; the egg-timer began to rattle and shake, alerting you the duration of the kiss was to be drawn to a close.

The low groan released from Sanji’s lips followed by a whimper as you began to pull yourself away from him was as delicious as the meals he would readily present to you, filling you completely with his unbridled need being absolutely met by your body.

“Please-,” he cried his protestation and need for you softly as you made to break from his lips, “please I need more.”

You smiled while he chased you with his lips as you pulled away from him, unlacing your leg from circling his hip and pulled your arms around his shoulders. You pressed your hand to rest against his chest, feeling the rapid pace pummelling harshly at his breastbone, pushing him away with a gentle but firm touch.

“You can have more,” you cooed at him, looking down through your eyelashes to see his desperation on full display over his face; his breath unevenly falling from his mouth, “in an hour and twenty minutes, before dinner.”

“For how long, then?” He gasped, moving his hands from your hips to lace his fingertips within your own, “surely not just for one and a half minutes.”

You giggled at him, looking at the beautiful picture you had painted on the man of a canvas before you: his eyes blown out with lust and desire, his heart beating with the rapidity of an over-excited puppy anticipating its first treat, his lips bruised from the prior collision against your own.

“You are out of breath,” you nodded to him, gesturing to his lips with your chin, “you have a spike of adrenaline, gathered by how rapid your heart was beating just now,” you rubbed your thumb to circle over his own, “and hopefully the kiss gave you as much of a rush of endorphins as it did me,” you giggled with a nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

He nodded, looking down at the ground with a small smile tugging at his slightly swollen lips.

“Thank you for helping me with breaking my addiction, and,” he murmured, bringing your hands upwards to brush his lips against every digit; paying them all as much attention as the other with his lips, breaking only to utter; “for helping me restore my palate. I’m going to look forward to receiving my next hit from you.”

You felt a small rush of butterflies falling over your chest as he bore a wide grin against your knuckles.

“Okay, chef,” you said, releasing your hands from his and bringing your right hand up to caress his cheek, brushing your thumb over his lips to tenderly sooth them, “let’s go bring the captain his second afternoon tea.”

“Oui, mademoiselle,” he groaned, pressing a small and playful kiss against the pad of your thumb, prompting a small whimper to fall from your own lips this time; a smirk readily rising to his cheeks as he took the balled piercing from beneath his tongue and twirled it against his teeth absent mindedly.

Part 2

#one piece #opla #opla fic #x reader #one piece live action #sanji opla #black leg sanji #sanji fic #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #sanji

503 notes · View notes

sixeyesgojo · 1 year ago

Text

all good things come in threes

☾ Summary: Winning a bet against Gojo ‘big ass ego’ Satoru isn't as easy as you thought. But you can't complain either. ☾ Characters: highschool!Gojo Satoru x reader ☾ Word count: 6k ☾ Content warning: use of petnames, implied height difference, tooth-rotting fluff, Gojo's a little shit and has negative rizz ☾ Author's note: My heart was going through STUFF. ☾ Tags: @nagumoan @heresan @peachsayshi @trueformsukuna @gojos-princesa @cursedmoonchild

White tufts of hair. Round sunglasses. An annoying facial expression directed at you. That was your view. You let out an exasperated sigh. Out of everyone available at the time, they just had to choose you to partner up with Satoru. It was to make sure the young conceited sorcerer wouldn’t go overboard or well, get ahead of himself. Sure, his abilities were extraordinary and even at a young age, he had already displayed an astonishing understanding of his cursed techniques and various other battle-related skills. Everyone knew that Satoru was set to be a pioneer and that he didn’t exactly need a partner to fulfill his missions. You knew about his abilities, how they worked and his modus operandi, already having had experience partnering up with him on various missions. But those had been wildly different as they required a partner, a second person. This one clearly didn’t. Yet they still sent you with him, knowing full well that he could handle it himself. These damn fossils.

It was understandable that Satoru had his own opinions about this rather unexpected turn of events. After having heard his initial protestations, which contained the words “no faith”, “incompetent” and how he was “not some random weakling”, you’ve had enough and it began to annoy you. Neither of you were responsible for orders being passed down as they were; and both of you knew that some of them did not make sense, some of them were plain unreasonable and some of them just seemed antiquated, obsolete, outdated. If anyone had enough power to object orders from above, it was the young sorcerer in front of you. However, he didn’t bother to do so. As for you, you had questioned the intent behind the task assigned to you, but simply accepted it as it was. There was no helping it anyway. In the end, you were just a cog in a giant and screwed system.

And so, you were stuck with him on a mission to rescue civilians and eliminate a first grade curse. “I still don’t understand why I need a partner for this. Do I look like a total wimp?” he complained and pulled a grimace.

You rolled your eyes at him, clearly displeased at the situation yourself, “I bet they assigned me to keep your big ass ego in check.”

For someone who had grumbled that much about you being his partner this time around, Satoru certainly seemed entertained in one way or another. At least, a small part of him seemed to revel in the situation. “And I’m sure you will do an excellent job at keeping my ‘big ass ego’ at bay,” he retorted sarcastically, all while giving you that damn smirk. No one else in the world could look so smug while being a prick. So what if you found him attractive? So what if his teasing made your heart skip one or two beats? So what if the smirk made you want to kiss it off of his stupid face? His personality was foul enough. At that moment, all you wanted to do was to smack him but you knew exactly that his bothersome Infinity wouldn’t let you.

“Ugh, I don’t exactly enjoy being stuck with someone who constantly complains either. I’ll just get this mission done as quickly as I can and then we’re both free from each other. Deal?” you rambled. Your keenness to end this all as soon as possible made his ears perk up and upon hearing this, the white-haired teenager dropped his empty can on the ground, “Woah woah woah, hold your horses. I am pretty sure you can’t even defeat the curse as fast as I can, so who’s stuck with who?”

You shrugged as you picked up the metal can, ever so trusting in your abilities. Although you knew he was the strongest, that didn’t mean you couldn’t beat him to it, right? You just had to be clever about it. “Fine, let’s make a bet then. Whoever lands the finishing blow on the curse wins,” you suggested and tossed the metallic container into a trashcan. Satoru raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Loser has to do whatever the winner wants,” the sorcerer decided. He seemed interested enough.

“Fine by me. Don’t cry about it when I win,” you said, grinning at him. He grinned back at you, all too confident in his victory already, “I’m afraid I’ll be the one wiping your tears.”

Days passed. Finally, the fateful day was here.

“Will you hurry up?” he urged you. “I’m already on my way,” you replied, annoyed at being rushed by him. Why were you two walking to the scene in the first place? “Come on, we don’t have all day,” he continued. You rolled your eyes. Not everybody had the privilege of having stilts for legs. Still, you sped up in order to catch up to him.

“This is the place,” Satoru pointed out, stopping abruptly. He held his arm out in front of you, as if to keep you out… if one was delusional enough, the gesture could have been interpreted as a protective one. Promptly, you shook your head. There was no time for such thoughts. You could daydream later—focus was more important now.

“There are still people inside. We need to evacuate them first,” he inferred, looking into your eyes. Your mind then switched to mission mode immediately. “Then we can take it down together.”

You nodded; even without verbal communication, the allocation of tasks was successfully conveyed. Vanishing from his sight, you were off to evacuate anyone that was left in the vicinity. Sure, Satoru could find the curse and get rid of it on his own. Then he would have won the bet easily. However, something in your gut told you that he wouldn’t do that. He could be fair… sometimes—even if it was for his own enjoyment. Admittedly, he wasn’t a bad partner on missions; he just wasn’t the greatest personality-wise. But he certainly had a charm to him. That’s how he unknowingly wrapped you around his finger…

The evacuation went as smooth as it could—with one or two stray bullets that would not listen, as per usual. Since you had already done this lots of times, you were able to finish up quickly and get the civilians to safety with the help of the assistants: the Windows.

“I’m here,” you announced to him as soon as you were back. And you were right! He just leaned against a wall, waiting for you. “About time. I almost thought you wouldn’t come anymore because you got scared shitless. You ready to take this thing down?” He asked. You smirked at him, “You bet I am. Ready to kick your sorry ass.”

Chuckling, he swung himself into a proper standing position. “Alright. I see you’re being as feisty as ever. Remember: The loser will have to do whatever the other person wants after all this is over,” the tall teenager reminded you with a cocky grin. Oh, he was so sure that he would win. His eyes gleamed with excitement and he was ready to fight this curse to ensure his oh-so-sweet victory over you. Of course, he had already thought of his prospective prize.

As if on cue, the curse appeared behind him and roared. In the blink of an eye, two giant claws came swinging at Satoru. You didn’t hesitate to activate your own cursed technique, successfully blocking the slash attack at frightening speed.

“Mark me impressed,” Satoru laughed. It wasn’t his first time seeing you in action but he couldn’t help but tease you, “You’re still not on my level but it’ll do.”

You rolled your eyes, “You say this every time we’re partnered up. Doesn’t it get old?”

He simply laughed as you both dodged an incoming blow. The two of you continued to face off with the curse. Before long, both of you had landed blows on the enemy. He was holding back for some reason—that’s what you thought—otherwise you were sure that this level of curse would have been taken care of by his hands already. It was neither weak nor was it anything drastically above your level. There was one thing you were sure about: He was stalling—and you played right into his games. But your pride wouldn’t let you drop out of the bet.

It wasn’t long until the curse crumbled to dust. You panted a little, looking at the white-haired sorcerer. The enemy was gone now but he didn’t look like he had broken a single sweat. He dusted himself off and straightened his posture.

“Now about that winner and loser thing…” he began, “I think you can guess the winner.”

You huffed. Damn. Despite holding out well, your plan was a failure. But a bet was a bet, right? “Fine, what do you want me to do?” you probed. He wouldn’t ask you to do bizarre things for him, right?

Satoru tapped his chin, pretending to think, when in reality he had already known before the fight even started. You looked like you poured your whole heart into winning, so he couldn’t help but hold back a little.

“Then… how about going out for ice cream? It’s on me. I think I deserve ice cream after working so hard,” he finally spoke. At first, you thought your brain was playing pranks on you. “Wait,” you paused, “Are you asking me out as your prize for winning the bet?”

A playful grin spread on his face. “You could definitely say that.” He specified, “But I also just really like ice cream on a summer day and I think we deserve some. What, are you chickening out now?”

You looked at him quizzically, questioning whether this was a joke on his part. You felt your heart speed up and the tips of your ears became warmer by the second. “Fair. A win is a win. I guess I’ll go have ice cream with you,” you muttered. Was he scheming something? Did he… perhaps like—

He chuckled and proceeded with a half-teasing tone, “You guess?” The laughter that followed after was soft. “We gotta report back first and then we can go.” Without further ado, he turned on his heel and walked away. The grin that was on his face was not visible to you. “Ugh, shut up,” you grumbled, still somewhat flustered. Nevertheless, you followed him. This damn heart wouldn’t let you rest.

The briefing didn’t take long at all—the mission was a success. After making a report, the two of you headed to a nearby ice cream store. As you stood in line waiting for your sweet cold treat, you looked at his face. He was even better looking than you originally thought. Come to think of it, you might have never looked at him from up close. Suddenly, he turned to you. “What flavor are you getting?” Satoru asked curiously.

You looked at him and answered, “Lime with mint.” It was one of your favorite flavors.

“Lime with mint, huh?” he repeated and looked towards the sky as if you had just asked him a deeply philosophical question he needed to ponder about. “Not a bad choice. I’m getting mango. Can’t go wrong with that.” He paid for the ice cream, as promised, and guided both of you to a nearby bench so you could enjoy the treat. His eyes were positively gleaming with delight after he sat down. It was happiness that resembled yours whenever you got ice cream. “Why lime with mint?” Satoru wondered. With a shrug, you replied, “I just like lime. With mint in it, it’s more refreshing in summer. Have you ever tried?”

Satoru shook his head, so you allowed him to have a taste. You could pinpoint the exact moment when he realized that your statement was the truth: It was nice and refreshing indeed. He made a mental note that your ice cream taste was impeccable. “Any other flavor you enjoy?” he probed. It took a moment of thinking until you came up with something, “Matcha ice cream. I like mango too.”

“Good call. Mango is one of my favorites for sure,” he said as he took a bite of his scoop of ice cream.

“I’m wondering,” you said aloud, “why did you choose to ask me out as your reward? I expected… actually, I don’t know what I expected but it was definitely something else.”

The sorcerer pondered, thinking about how to phrase it. “Like what?” he asked. “I don’t know. Maybe kissing your ass, being your accomplice for pranks or something like that. That would be on-brand for you,” you joked. You would have never expected such a turn of events.

“That would have been an amazing idea, actually,” the guy mused. In retrospect, it would have been better if you hadn’t said anything to not fuel his dumb ideas. “You absolute jackass! Nobody wants to kiss your ass!”

Even though you should have expected such a reply coming from him, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit scandalized at the mental image of you kissing his rear. Gross. You shook your head to get rid of the imagery.

And yet, your curiosity hadn’t been quenched at all. As impatient as you were about his reply, you further probed him on the matter, “So… about my question…?”

As if to hide any embarrassing feelings, your opposite snickered. “Right… about that…” he cleared his throat, “I just kinda like our banter a lot… and you. So I figured that I should just shoot my shot. ‘What are they gonna say? No?’ was what I thought but see, a bet’s a bet! And I won!”

Oh. Oh.

Your eyes widened. So it was like that.

Gojo Satoru? The Gojo Satoru? The conceited prick Satoru? Your crush Satoru? And you? Together? Never in a hundred years. But… it’s not like you had any right to complain about it, seeing as your heart was threatening to break out of its bony confinement.

“Hey, hey, hey. No need to look so surprised. I’ve been trying to get closer to you, didn’t you notice?” he asked, tilting his head to the left side, as if to get a better glimpse of your surprised expression.

“You thought being the most annoying prick to ever walk on Earth would do the trick?” Your jaw dropped. A strange expression of surprise flitted across your face for a split second. He shrugged his shoulders, “Well, it definitely worked—after all I got your undivided attention, didn’t I?”

Flabbergasted—that’s what you were. However, your composure quickly made a comeback and you could only laugh. A million-watt grin greeted you. Damn this man. He knew how to charm you, intentionally or not. “It sure did, you know! But not in the most positive light… Instead of calling me weak, you could have asked me what my favorite color is, what my favorite food is or something like that… Things normal people do!” you told him truthfully. Rather than arguing back, Satoru raised his free hand in defense, “I didn’t say you were weak, I just said you’re not on my level!”

You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrow and he quickly dropped the topic. Deciding to take your advice to heart, he asked you about your favorite cake and any ‘hidden gems and recommendations’, as he called them. The sudden change in topic threw you off a little, but as long as he tried, right? You were almost inclined to reward him with a good noodle star. Not that you’d do that. In place of that, you opted to go with the alternative: provide him with the information he asked for. So you thought about it carefully before answering him. He listened intently.

“I’ll keep those in mind. Making a mental list for the next time we hang out,” he grinned at you, tapping his temple. “You want to hang out again? I’m not boring you out of your mind yet?” you asked puzzledly, still in disbelief that he showed actual interest in you outside of work. “Why wouldn’t I want to?” He seemed slightly confused and raised a white eyebrow.

“Do you not want to?” He glanced at you with his bright, sparkling eyes. The notion of spending more time with you excited him. The enthusiasm was reflected in his cerulean eyes. When you thought about it, it only made sense, considering he had just confessed that he found you intriguing. “I just assumed you couldn’t stand me because I wasn’t as strong as you because you kept being mean to me,” you admitted somewhat shyly.

“I’m not that mean!” He said, acting shocked, though you noticed he was trying to hide a chuckle.

After a few seconds, Satoru sighed and clarified, “I can be a bit mean at times but I promise I never hated you or anything.” He smiled and you swore it was a smile that could threaten to make your knees a bit weak. Lucky for you that you were sitting on a bench. It was almost unfair how blessed he was with good looks. He continued, “I actually enjoy your company. You’re interesting and fun and I can tell you’re not afraid to bite back but you can be friendly if you want to. If anything, I like that a lot about you.”

A slight feeling of abashment prompted you to avoid his gaze. This was unusual. You weren’t used to him being so openly kind. “You know, I’d think I prefer you teasing me… without being straight up rude,” you confessed. His eyes widened briefly. Yet, a smirk soon returned to his face, “I see. You’re a masochist. Just kidding! I can definitely do that. It’ll be interesting to see how you react to me teasing you.”

Of course, you wouldn’t let that sit on you and you bit back, “Don’t expect me not to fight back, though.” And there it was, the slightly awkward atmosphere from earlier dissipated and everything returned to your usual banter.

Satoru clicked his tongue, “Trust me, I don’t expect you to be anyone but yourself. But I’m still looking forward to what you’ll do when I tease you, though.” He winked. “Not only are you an interesting person, but you’re fairly cute too.”

Who? You? “Huh?” you blurted out, baffled at the sudden compliment. With the way he was grinning at you, he had to be messing with you since he enjoyed seeing your reactions. “Did I say something wrong? I wasn’t lying. You’re adorable. Do you think you’re not?” Oh, he was definitely messing with you.

“Not really,” you shot back. You knew you weren’t ugly but hearing a compliment from someone as stunning as Satoru was something else. But cute and adorable…? That wasn’t exactly the best way to compliment someone you wanted to get attention from. If anything, it fueled something almost akin to spite within you. You felt the urge to tease him back.

“Come on, it was a genuine compliment from me. That’s gotta count for something, doesn’t it?” he pouted. You couldn’t detect any kind of indication that he was lying. “Thank you, you’re not so bad yourself,” you complimented him back. “Really?” he let out a gasp that was obviously fake, “I’m not so bad?”

You nodded, prompting the white-haired man to raise his eyebrow as he contemplated. “You’re right, I’m not bad,” he nodded in agreement with you.

“I am great,” he said, a smirk forming on his face.

You chuckled, “You know. I think if it wasn’t for your foul personality, I would have fallen for you long ago.”

“Foul personality?” Satoru gasped as he brought a hand to his chest to grab it. “Maybe you’re just as mean as I am!” A laugh escaped from your throat and it was like music to his ears. “I never said I was nice, did I?” you fired back at him and he couldn’t help but grin. “See? I think I like you more when you're sassy. Maybe we're not as different as you thought,” he spoke. After a moment, he added, “I wouldn't mind if you treated me like this all the time. I could even get used to it.”

“So the great Gojo Satoru likes being degraded, I see. Noted,” you teased him again. One of his hands moved to his mouth to cover it, pretending to be horrified. He leaned forward and you could see a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I don’t think ‘degradation’ is the right term here; I just enjoy teasing you and... being teased by you. Is that so bad?” he asked. “Then,” you began and stood up, the ice cream was long finished. You placed your index finger beneath his chin, moving it up so he was facing you as you got closer to his face. He could feel your breath. “Do you like this?” you asked. Your goal was to get back at him for flustering you earlier. So why was your heart beating so fast?

“I think I do,” he simply said. His pale blue eyes seemed to peer at you, piercing you, as if looking for an answer to a question that had been left unasked. Despite being in a sitting position, he still radiated a confident aura. Suddenly the closeness you had created between the two of you was too much for you. Your body backed away automatically but you found yourself unable to move any farther from him—he didn’t let you. Instead, he reduced the gap between the two of you even more, slowly coming closer to you.

His fingers had already sneakily encircled your left forearm without you noticing. Mesmerizing eyes robbed you of your ability to move. You didn’t notice you held your breath until you needed to inhale sharply. Who was teasing who now? Caught like a deer in headlights, adrenaline rushed through your veins as anticipation clouded your mind. That was the moment you realized that you were into him more than you’d like to admit. You swore you could hear your heartbeat pounding loudly in your ears. The tension became too much and the ringing in your ears amplified and—

And then he closed the gap between you. Your brain blacked out. All you could think about was his lips on yours. Saying that you didn’t like his lips melting into yours was a lie. Satoru was leaving a sweet hint of his mango-flavored ice cream for you to taste, as if to claim you as his.

After a few seconds, Satoru broke the kiss. The shit-eating grin on his face was telling. “I think I liked this more though. You should let me do that more often. Maybe every day,” he winked at you. He looked at your frozen expression and chuckled; he genuinely had fun flirting with you. Still dazed from the kiss, your brain was unable to conjure any thoughts. All you knew was that you wanted—no, it was a need to kiss him again. As if your body would be set ablaze if you didn’t listen to your desire, your lips chased his and you kissed him again.

Satoru blinked. He was a bit taken aback at first but quickly returned the kiss, closing his eyes. After all, he had just boldly said that he wanted to do it more often. When you broke the kiss, he leaned forward before speaking. You noticed that the tip of his ears were a little red. It was a cute detail that you wouldn’t have noticed from afar.

“Damn, you’re a really good kisser,” the sorcerer said in a low voice, smiling at you. “Can I try again?” he asked, the smile still adorning his face. “All good things come in threes, I suppose,” you smiled back at him and leaned in again. Who would have thought that you would kiss this guy?

Without hesitation, the sitting Satoru pulled you into his lap and he kissed you again, heart beating faster with each passing second. After a few moments, he pulled away.

“Yeah, three sounds like a good number… but I prefer Infinity,” he said breathlessly. His cheeks were slightly flushed, a sign that he was enjoying himself. The white-haired adolescent reached up and pulled a stray strand of hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. He playfully added, “We should do this more often. Don't you agree?”

“Now you’re just being greedy!” you joked as you hit his chest playfully. It was only now that you noticed that his Limitless technique wasn’t in effect. “Greedy? Who? Me? Never!” he gasped again, pretending to be hurt over your accusation. “You hit me pretty hard there. I could have gotten hurt…” He glanced at the hand you used to hit him, “Do you want me to hit you too? Or maybe I should ask for damage compensation?”

You could tell he wasn’t serious by the way he smiled. “If you go on and hit me with your lips, then sure. Alternatively, I can offer lip service as compensation. Choose your poison, choose your hell.”

For a moment, he looked at you with mock horror. Then, he broke out in laughter at your statement. “Actually, that first one sounds like a good idea. I’ll go ahead and hit you with my lips then. But gently. Because I’m a gentleman.” He tenderly placed his two hands at the side of your face and slowly pulled you closer to him. Tilting his head slightly, he leaned in until your lips met. It was very gentle and your heart was filled with excitement, with exhilaration, as he kissed you. As your hands gripped his uniform tightly, you slowly lost yourself in the kiss, getting drunk on his lips. Maybe you should curse him for being a good kisser.

Satoru ended the kiss with a peck on the corner of your mouth and looked at you with a soft gaze, the softest you had ever seen on him. The dazed look on your face made him laugh again, “Don’t get too drunk on my kisses.” Stroking your cheeks with his long fingers, he laughed once again when he saw your pouting face, “You’re adorable, you know that?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong but you’re not entirely unaffected by kissing me,” you stated as-a-matter-of-factly and raised an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms. Being called out like this was embarrassing but it was pretty clear that you weren’t the only one affected with how the tips of his ears became slightly redder with each time you touched lips.

His lips formed a smile, “They’re addictive, if I’m being honest. I don’t… I don’t want to stop kissing you. I could do this all day, every day.”

“If kissing me is addictive, then I think I’m doing a great job at affecting you,” you chuckled. The way your mouth moved as you spoke and the way the corners moved upwards to form a cheeky smile; he couldn’t take his eyes off. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, his thumb moved along the corner of your mouth. He couldn’t stop staring, the urge to lay his lips on yours once more strong. “You’re fun to be around. I like you, a lot. I’m enjoying how I feel when I’m close to you. I love whatever effect you have on me,” he spoke clearly.

He was fixated, enchanted, spell-bound even. “Is… Is this a confession?” you asked, hopeful eyes peering up at his. You took notice of the entranced look on his face. He blurted out, “I think I already fell for you a while ago.” As he realized what he had done, his eyes widened in shock and he wanted to slap his palms on his mouth, but he didn’t because that meant letting go of you. This time, it wasn’t fake shock but he genuinely didn’t think he’d blurt it out like that. But it was okay, because you liked him too. What was the use of pretending you didn’t?

“I think that makes two of us then,” as you admitted it, you felt your ears blazing with heat. “I’m saying that I like you too.”

It took him a moment to process in his brain. Despite being academically clever and praised for his intelligence and wit in battles, you found it took him rather long to work out the meaning behind your words. “I knew you liked me, despite your sass.” No need to hide it now that he’d taken a look inside your heart. “We’re a dangerous duo,” the sorcerer noted, amused by his realization. You agreed with him, “Just two flirty kids who give trouble a run for its money.”

“Hey,” he suddenly began after a few moments, “Have you ever dated someone before? Are there any current or ex boyfriends I need to be worried about?” Satoru’s voice came out softly and he looked at you, awaiting an answer that would please him… because if not… he felt his heart drop at the thought. You wouldn’t… right?

Uncertainty clouded his mind as he looked at your face. “I have dated someone before but it didn’t work out. I’m not seeing anyone at the moment,” you clarified and wagged your index finger at him. “And honestly, even if there was… I think you’d do a great job at keeping them away,” you added.

And then, relief washed over him. With hindsight, he should have asked that before kissing you—a small part inside him admonished him for it but his heart couldn’t help but leap at your words. Quickly recomposing himself, he grinned back at you, “I bet with all the sass, sarcasm and cheekiness you’ve got, you can keep them away just as easily by yourself.”

Obviously, you had a comeback up your sleeve, “I never said I couldn’t. But you’d do a decent job at it. Because anyone would be scared of a tall white-haired dude who is full of himself.”

A hearty laugh came out of his throat; he expected nothing less from you. You were good at getting back at him in the most entertaining and beautiful ways. There was no doubt that you were able to handle his ‘foul’ personality well. “So we’re both good at keeping guys away from us, huh? You really do think I’m full of myself, don’t you? So why didn’t you reject me before?” he questioned. “Judging from what happened earlier… I might not be that good at keeping guys like you away from me. I wasn’t born with your technique after all. And I’m not sure if I want to keep away a guy named Gojo Satoru from me,” you grin at him and pinch his cheek gently.

“I’m flattered,” he fake-sniffed and then he leaned even closer, “So did I hear that correctly? You don’t want to keep a tall, almighty and handsome guy like me away from you? Hm?”

“No, I don’t want to keep you away from me. But I think if we dated, we’d be dangerous to other people. Our superiors wouldn’t approve of it, I am sure,” you mused. It was logical but Satoru gave you a bizarre look, “And you care about what some old farts have to say? Strange thing to be worried about when you’re someone who usually fires back right away.”

“I was just saying. I don’t care about what they think; I like playing dangerously. Wouldn’t be in this line of work if that wasn’t the case,” the words coming out of your mouth made him feel delighted. The smug look on your face only added to it.

“That makes us a dangerous duo, huh? The perfect pair to take down curses and cause trouble, I kinda like that,” he clicked his tongue as he finished speaking. The thought of the two of you wreaking havoc was fun and thrilling, admittedly. Principal Yaga was sure to get white hair at this rate—not that Satoru cared too much about it, as long as the old man didn’t die of shock or cardiac arrest.

“You bet,” you shot him a cheeky smile. “Then it’s settled, wouldn’t you say? You and I are an amazing partner match, sweetheart. Just a danger to society,” Satoru established.

“That’s sort of ironic, considering that our job is to protect society as it is,” you remarked. And yet, it didn’t matter to you at all. All you felt at the moment was the pleasantness of the world, of Gojo Satoru’s presence and coming clean with your feelings.

“Hey, since you brought it up already… I’m going to assume that you’re fine with dating me…?” He briefly looked at the ground, then back at you. The little bit of uncertainty in his tone was almost cute to you. For the first time, the usually cocky and confident platinum—haired sorcerer wasn’t so sure about his words in front of you. Seeing him like this wasn’t so bad, you noticed.

You got on your tiptoes to gently place a peck on his cheek. Your actions were contradictory to your following question: “What makes you think you’re worthy of being my boyfriend?”

You were only teasing him, hoping that your sweet kiss was answer enough. Part of you hoped that he got the playful tone in your voice. But when he glanced down at you as you struggled to reach his lips on your tiptoes, a wide grin spread across his face as you leaned in and kissed him. His heart raced as he snaked his two arms around your waist to steady you.

With an eye smile so boyish that it made you blink once, twice, Satoru was quick to respond, “Opposite day already passed, you brat. I think it’s only fair to deduce that if I’m worthy of your kiss, I’m most likely good enough to be your boyfriend.”

“Hmmm, you think so?” you grin mischievously at him and slung your arms around his neck. Your goal was to rile him up a little, it was in your nature to be a little annoying about it.

“I’d say a kiss is a good sign, sugar,” he retorted with a sassy tone in his voice. He tightened his arms around your waist, effectively hugging you closer to him. There was no escape for you—not that you wanted to flee from him anyways. On the contrary: You rested your head on his shoulder.

“Then I think it’s in order that my official boyfriend kisses me now and goes on a date with me,” you murmured into his ear. A slight movement indicated that he was reacting to your whisper. He gulped and swiftly got his cool back. “That can be arranged,” Satoru smiled as he moved his hands to the sides of your face and closed the gap once more. After separating from your lips, his arms moved back to their original spot.

He snickered to himself, “I can’t believe you’re so cheeky and smooth.”

You stuck your tongue out at him—and to him, you looked so adorable doing it. “Being a menace who is cheeky and smooth is my forte,” you claimed brazenly. “How does it feel to be my boyfriend?”

“Being handsome and strong is part of my job as the notorious kid from the Gojo clan. But being your official boyfriend was not in the job description when I signed up to be a sorcerer. I’ll take my incentive bonus payment in the form of love and affection from you,” he joked and nuzzled your nose. Satoru’s warm hands found yours and he didn’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers.

“Then I guess our first date will be a salary negotiation,” you laughed back at him. This was the start of something beautiful, but also the start of double trouble for some poor souls. Not that any of you cared anyway.

White tufts of hair and round sunglasses would accompany you more frequently from now on.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojou x reader #satoru gojo x reader

675 notes · View notes

annebd · 8 days ago

Text

winter warmers, day 8: holiday baking. ~700 words

The truth is, Max can’t stand coffee. He hates most hot drinks, in fact. But every morning at around 11 o’clock, without fail, he wanders down to Enchanté Cafe and orders a small Americano, extra extra milk and extra extra sugar, which he hopes will one day drown out the flavor of the coffee itself- though it never works- and whatever the pastry of the day is.

Max will take his coffee and pastry and sit at the little corner table by the large bay window, back turned to the rest of the coffee shop, so that he can people-watch. At least, if anyone ever asks, that’s the excuse that he’s ready to offer. But in truth, the only people-watching he’s doing is of the pretty boy behind the counter. He’s tried all of the different tables over the past month that he’s been coming to Enchanté, and this particular seat gives him the best view in the entire cafe.

It took him over a week of coming to the cafe to muster up the courage to ask Daniel his name. (He knew Max’s name right away, of course, since he’d need to call it out when his order was ready. Over the weeks, he’s come up with all sorts of nicknames, so Max is used to picking up orders for “Maximus Decimus” or “Maximiliano” or, on one memorable occasion, “Maximum Overdrive.”) When Max was finally feeling brave enough to ask for his name, Daniel laughed at him, not unkindly, and pointed at the name tag hanging slightly crooked on his apron that read, in gold script, Daniel R. “I’m Jeff,” he said with a wink, and then gave Max a free pastry.

Sometimes, when he’s been sitting at his people-watching table for long enough, Daniel will take his lunch break a little early and come sit with Max and entertain him with tales of the various characters that frequent the bakery. Max isn’t sure he believes all of the stories are true, but Daniel tells them with such enthusiasm that he’s willing to suspend disbelief for a bit. Those days are Max’s favorite.

Today is looking to be one of those days. The clock has just barely ticked past noon. Max’s coffee, only half drunk, is sitting cold and forgotten on the table in front of him, and the pain au chocolat he’d ordered on Daniel’s recommendation is nothing more than a couple of lost crumbs. He watches as Daniel makes his way out from behind the counter, hands laden with two different mugs and a small plate balanced on top of one.

He plops the plate down on the table and places one of the mugs in front of Max. It’s hot chocolate, with a candy cane nestled into the cup, poking a hole in the froth of whipped cream. Daniel’s cup looks to be a plain black coffee.

“On the house,” Daniel tells him, when Max raises an eyebrow at the goodies. He nudges the plate towards Max. “Go on, tell me what you think. I’m trying a new recipe. Christmas themed, you know?”

The small plate holds a cupcake, a pile of green frosting on top swirled up in the shape of a Christmas tree, decorated with brightly colored sprinkles and a little sugar star on top. It’s cute, and Daniel is obviously proud of it, if the way he’s nodding encouragingly at Max and bouncing his knee is any indication. Max peels back the paper to take a bite. It’s good. Sweet, and moist, and delicious. “It’s very lovely, Daniel. You’ll sell lots of them, I think.”

“Thanks, mate,” Daniel says, and then reaches over and swipes his thumb across Max’s bottom lip. He brings his thumb, which has a little green frosting on it, to his own mouth and licks it off. “You’re right. Delicious.”

Max can feel his cheeks flush pink. It feels like now or never. “Do you think, maybe, if you want, you can give me your number? And then maybe we can have a drink sometime?”

“I’d love to,” Daniel replies, and gestures for Max’s phone so that he can program his number in.

“And hey,” he says, as he starts typing. “Maybe if I take you out for a drink, I can find out what you actually like, so that you don’t have to suffer through those Americanos every morning.”

#winterwarmers2024 #my fic #maxiel #playing catch up on a few of the prompts i've missed so far

56 notes · View notes

cyberapid · 3 months ago

Note

Loved your view on Carrier instincts from Ratchet's point of view. I would love to see a part 2, Sire instincts from Optimus' point of view if possible.

Thank you so much!! I hope this is ok! I love the idea and had like three different drafts before I settled with this lmao.

Wasn’t sure how I wanted to handle sire protocol but I’m kinda satisfied? I thought like overprotective and kinda clingy would be interesting.

Little hurt/comfort and a lot longer

Pt.1 Pt.2

•-•-•

This was a simple retrieval that really only required two bots if all went well, get past the miners undetected, retrieve as much energon as possible, sabotage what you can, and get out. Ratchet had emphasised, excessively, the undetected part much to the annoyance of the small bots given the task.

Once the two were gone Optimus had occupied himself in Ratchet's makeshift med bay, much to the older bots annoyance, by picking up some of the broken equipment littered about but a black servo had smacked his own away. Looking down he’d met Ratchet's fierce glare, “Optimus I can barely think with your racket. Also, stop touching my things. I may need them,” he abruptly turns with a dramatic vent, continuing to track the signal of the two bots within the mines; Audials alert in case a quick exit is necessary.

The prime settled to instead linger behind his bonded, arms wrapped around his middle and servos held firm on cold metal. They watched the monitor as the two blinking bots made their way slowly through twisted corridors, avoiding working Decipticons. There was no real need to continually watch with Ratchet, their very capable Medic, on the job but something within Optimus’ processor made even entertaining the idea painful so he settled with being Ratchet’s secondary optics.

“Are you ill? I swear you’ve been clingier than normal,” Ratchet’s tone is twisted with frustration as he attempts to escape the others grip and get a better look up at him but firm, larger servos keep him in place while attempting to stay focused despite the movement, “are your brain circuits. fried, Optimus? Let me go!” Annoyance bursts through their shared bond as the medic attempts to free himself, uselessly.

The bickering pulls all attention away from the computer as the bonded pair complain and soothe respectively, missing the sudden company that surrounded the two spies. They miss the visual but Acree’s voice pulls them away from each other and back towards the monitor. “We’ve been spotted. Bee’s on the sabotage part already so just keep the bridge ready,”

Ratchet is quickly turned back to his monitor answering the femme, “Groundbridge is locked onto your coordinates and ready when you are,” anxiety fills the shared bond from his mates side and parts of this leak into the connection with their youngling, disrupting the usual contentment that flows through. Optimus feels his spark twist and anger flow through his processor, he attempts to cut the feeling off before it reaches his connection to his family but the sudden stiffness under his servos tells him he didn’t block the connection quick enough

“Open the Bridge, I’ll assist.” His request is met with a fuzzy scoff as his mate turns to him,

“Absolutely not. They’ve almost completed the mission and your being there will only make it worse,” anger flares further and he feels the involuntary twitch of his digit; deep in the logical side of his processor he knows his dear friend is correct but any logic he might of had is squashed by the fear that overwhelms him, consumes him. Something will happen to his creation and he stood by doing nothing.

The sudden anguish that fills their bond with the young boy startles them both from the intense stare off they’d engaged in, “scrap, Bee got hit! Open the bridge now I’m grabbing him. Bee put th-“ her comm is cut short but the two bots are quick to jump to action, a silent understanding as ratchet pulls himself away from groundbridge controls and off to prep med bay while Optimus takes over and activates the bridge.

The familiar whirl of the groundbridge echoes through the base along with the clanging from the medbay, Bulkhead's heavy steps alert the Prime to his entrance.

The Wrecker stands at the edge of the groundbridge's opening, in a tense observation, “should I head in and help em?” Anything their leader had to say is interrupted by Ratchet loudly exclaiming,

“Primus, no! I’ve said this twice now, you two will only jeopardize their exit. We don’t know how close they are or if the mines are large enough to house either of you,” he continues to chastise Bulkhead as Optimus turns his attention back to the portal, awaiting the sound of fleeing pedes. It takes far too long and his plating crawls at the sound of scraping metal that comes from the bridge.

The pain is searing to have to stand and make sure they clear the bridge before powering down the machine, he fights every instinct telling himself to forget the bridge and rush to his injured creation; to sooth his fears. He’d failed, again to protect what is his, what relies on him.

Then he failed to be the first to offer comfort as the white and orange mech rushes towards Acree who’s struggling to hold Bee up, who’s unable to walk with one pede as the other is non operational, spilling far too much energon from busted cabling.

He relieves the smaller scout of his creations form and transfers him onto the awaiting medical berth with care not to irritate any wounds further. Optimus is quick to trail behind him once the bridge is secured, narrowly avoiding stepping Raf thanks to Bulkhead who, as gently as possible, grabs the boy out of the way.

A quiet buzz sounds from Bumblebees intake at the sight of his creators and he sends pulses of joy through their bond which Optimus returns in large quantities to make up for his bondeds neglect of it, who instead focuses on the care of the scouts leg. A sudden shrill sound pulls him from flooding the bond with comfort, “Ratchet! Careful!”

The offended mech looks up from his work and lets out a distorted guffaw, “excuse me? You really have shorted your circuits!” Anger explodes from both sides of their shared bond.

A sudden squeeze of his servo kills any further complaints he has, instead he looks down at his creation who whirls sadly. A steady rumble leaves his intake in an attempt to sooth him and it appears to work as his optics dim, a sated calm pulses through the three way bond, and his engine lulls to a calm rumble. The calm allows Ratchet to work quickly and without interruption.

Silence settles into the silo and Optimus finds himself sparing a glance at his bonded who’s taken to working silently; A sturdy wall between their connection, “Ratchet-“

“Not now” his answer is short and his helm doesn’t raise from the damaged leg of their sparkling, experienced hands working for an amount of time Prime isn’t sure of but he knows it drags on far too long— leaving him with stirring remorseful thoughts.

•-•

Every person or bot has retired for the night or left the silo leaving the bonded pair and an unconscious, but stable, Bee. They haven’t spoken since the short outburst between them with Ratchet busying himself cleaning the mess left in medbay and Optimus watching over the resting bot.

He’d had time to mull over his actions leaving a nasty churn in his tanks, “my dear friend?” Ratchets shoulders tense up and his vents stall out as the equipment he’d been gently pushing into size order clatter to the ground,

“What,”

“I owe you an apology,” he reaches his free servo out to the other mech, expectantly, “please.” There’s a loud sigh as Ratchet accepts his hand and walks closer, settling himself in front of Optimus and beside the Berth for just a moment before an clattering sounds throughout the silo and the medic finds himself uncomfortably sat on the primes lap,

“What was that!” His servo collided with the side of Optimus’ helm reflexively before panicking and checking the slight dent as the other laughs. “Why would you do that! It’s hardly an apology,”

“Yes, you’re correct. I do apologize though, I was out of line for reprimanding you. Especially when you are far more experienced than I am in that field,” there’s a faint hum that leads into a purr from the mech above him— the walls that had been built up come down and contentment eases through their bond. The medic turns to look at their creation, free servo running over scraped yellow plating,

“I need to run diagnostics on you, your demeanour change is strange,”

#transformers #transformers prime #transformers fanfiction #optiratch #optimus prime x ratchet #tfp optimus prime #tfp ratchet #tfp bumblebee #tfp arcee #tfp bulkhead #tfp raf

62 notes · View notes

cultfaction · 2 years ago

Text

Calling Nurse Meow claws its way to Bluray

VIPCO & Bay View Entertainment will release the anthology Calling Nurse Meow to Blu-ray in the USA on 28th March 2023. The anthology film Calling Nurse Meow features 11 shorts by 6 different directors about Nurse Meow and her various antics. Directed by Laura Barker, Joe Cash, Jason Impey, Dan Urban, Kaylan Jordan-Sen and John W.T. An adults-only anthology based around Nurse Meow (Kitty Kiss) and…

View On WordPress

#Bay View Entertainment #Calling Nurse Meow #Dan Urban #Jason Impey #Joe Cash #John W.T #Kaylan Jordan-Sen #Laura Barker #VIPCO

0 notes

rainbowsky · 7 months ago

Text

Has the competition for ranking in the domestic entertainment industry reached the Magnolia Awards?

Original Entertainment Management Studio 2024-06-01 06: 30 Beijing

On May 30, after the shortlist of the Magnolia Awards for the 29th Shanghai TV Festival was announced, not only "xx was nominated" but also "xxx was not nominated" caused heated discussion.

The controversy centered on the two awards of "TV King" and "TV Queen". Among them, among the nominations for best actor, there are Ding Yongdai of "South and North" and Wang Yang of "War of Faith". However, some netizens discovered that when the official lineup of "War of Faith" was announced, Wang Yang was ranked third as the leading star, while Wang Yibo, who was ranked first as the leading star, was not nominated. The topic #白Magnolia was nominated without Wang Yibo# became a hot search on Weibo.

The same situation happened in "South to North". When the official Weibo announced the cast, the first leading actor was Bai Jingting, and the second was Ding Yongdai. #Bai Jingting is not nominated for Magnolia Awards# also became a hot search.

In the eyes of some netizens, "No. 1" is equivalent to "protagonist", and "No. 2" and "No. 3" are supporting roles. So, is this "ranking" trend in the domestic entertainment industry really equivalent to the judging logic of Magnolia Awards?

How to apply for a Magnolia?

As one of the three major awards for Chinese TV dramas, the Magnolia Award has always been regarded as an "industry award" and represents the vane of the domestic TV industry. The annual Best Actor and Best Actress awards are the highest recognition of actors in the field of TV dramas, and have become the focus of attention of various actors and fans.

Under the official Weibo of the Shanghai TV Festival's announcement of the shortlist, you can see countless fans' Amway* copywriting. In addition to actors such as Hu Ge, Yang Zi, and Tang Yan who have been nominated, fans of artists whose related works have been nominated also want to "get involved" in this joyous occasion. For example, the variety show "The Heart-Stirring Offer 5" was nominated, and fans of He Junlin, one of the guests, also congratulated He Junlin in the comment section.

*RBS note - 'Amway' essentially means 'intense and over-the-top, cult-like'.

On the other hand, although "War of Faith" was nominated for multiple Magnolia Awards, fans of the lead actor Wang Yibo were not happy. In their view, when "War of Faith" was officially announced, Wang Yang was the "third" male supporting role, and Wang Yibo was the first male lead, but Wang Yang was submitted for "Best Actor" and was nominated. As a result, fans began to protest on a large scale under the relevant Weibo of Magnolia, the film company, and the producer.

The Yuli Studio read the "2024 29th Shanghai TV Festival Magnolia Award TV Series Category Regulations" and found that in principle, the male and female lead awards are filled in with 1 person each, that is, the first male and female lead. The first male and female lead must play a pivotal role in promoting the plot and have an indispensable and important role. If there are indeed multiple male or female leads, the maximum number of people to be filled in is 2, and both must occupy a relatively large part in the play.

2024 29th Shanghai TV Festival Magnolia Award TV Series Category Rules

A film producer told Yuli Studio that because the Magnolia Award has requirements for the role, the film producer will definitely nominate the two leading actors with the most roles, and will not select them according to the ranking, nor will there be a situation where the "second male lead" is not reported but the "first male lead". If there are really not enough places, supporting roles will be reported.

The case of "Flowers" can also prove this application logic. When the official Weibo of "Flowers" announced the lineup, the ranking of the three actresses was Ma Yili, Tang Yan and Xin Zhilei. But according to The Paper, when the "Flowers" film producer applied, he believed that the three actresses in the play were all heroines, and each of them was very outstanding, so he communicated with the organizing committee and registered all three. In the end, only Tang Yan was shortlisted for the best actress.

It can be inferred from this that Wang Yibo and Wang Yang are both the leading actors in "War of Faith" and are also the top two male actors with the most roles, so the film crew will also report these two actors when submitting. Similarly, the crew of "South to North" should also report the top two male actors with the most roles, Bai Jingting and Ding Yongdai.

On May 31, Nandu Entertainment reported that an insider said that the "War of Faith" crew did report Wang Yibo and Wang Yang for the best actor. Both Bai Jingting and Wang Yibo appeared in the second round of voting for the best actor of this year's Magnolia Award, but after the review vote, they did not enter the final shortlist.

At the same time, in terms of the submitter, the "2024 29th Shanghai TV Festival Magnolia Award TV Series Category Regulations" stipulate that the registration is by individuals or institutions that own the copyright of the program, and one party must be determined as the applicant. Generally speaking, the submitter is the first producer, that is, the video platform. So the submitter of "War of Faith" should be iQiyi.

However, even with the written rules and industry reports, fans don't seem to buy it.

Where did the controversy come from?

Judging from the protests of Wang Yibo's fans, the biggest controversy is that fans believe that Wei Ruolai, played by Wang Yibo in "War of Faith", is the absolute and only male lead. Whether it is investment promotion or popularity, it is all carried by Wang Yibo. Therefore, the film company should not submit the best actor for Wang Yang, who is the "third lead", and compete with the "first lead" Wang Yibo in the same award.

So, are the rankings recognized by fans consistent with the "leading role" recognized by the industry? In addition to the first leading actor on the official list, the "first lead" recognized by fans also includes whether the script content revolves around the only protagonist, whether the protagonist has the most scenes, whether the various trailers released spend the most time on the first lead, and whether the above recognition has been mentioned in the interview with the main creators, etc.

However, in the selection rules of the Magnolia Awards, it is mentioned that if there are indeed multiple male protagonists or multiple female protagonists, the maximum number of people to be reported is 2, and all must occupy a relatively large part in the play. It can be found that when the official Weibo of "War of Faith" announced the lineup, Wang Yang was one of the leading actors. Secondly, the plot synopsis of "War of Faith" also mentioned that Wei Ruolai's plot mainly unfolds after he meets Shen Tunan, and forms a control group with Shen Tunan. Therefore, whether it is the title or the plot, there is no problem for the film company to apply for the Magnolia Award for Wang Yang as the "leading actor". And since the Magnolia Awards officially announced the shortlist, it also means that Shen Tunan, played by Wang Yang, meets the Magnolia Award's "leading actor" standard.

War of Faith original casting announcement from 2023: Starring in the leading role: Wang Yibo, Starring in the leading role: Li Qin, Starring in the leading role: Wang Yang.

Judging from the list of winners of the Magnolia Award for Best Actor in previous years, Lei Jiayin, who won the 28th Shanghai TV Festival Magnolia Award for Best Actor for "The World", is not the only leading actor. Yu Hewei, who won the 27th Shanghai TV Festival Magnolia Award for Best Actor for "Awakening Age", is one of the protagonists, and was even ranked after Zhang Tong, who played Li Dazhao, when the official announcement was made.

The application of "Fang Hua" also proves that a drama can have multiple "protagonists". It can be seen that the "protagonist" standard recognized by the Magnolia Awards is not the same as the "ranking" standard in the minds of fans.

How do "the male protagonist" and "the female protagonist" influence creation ?

Therefore, the so-called "number one", absolute male protagonist and female protagonist are more of a self-entertainment statement of the fan circle, which is unprofessional and does not respect the rules of creation.

When the main creator is creating, if they are disturbed by the "male protagonist" and "female protagonist", the role will become to serve the actors rather than the plot and the characters. Under normal circumstances, the male and female protagonists and even the main supporting roles should have a complete growth line to show how their personalities are developed? What are the relationships between the characters around them? But if you blindly give way to the "male protagonist" and "female protagonist", other characters will lose their normal behavioral logic and become tools of "what the other party needs me to do, I will do", and the logic of the whole drama will collapse.

For example, "Changyue Jinming" was questioned by netizens that in order to set off the male protagonist, the female protagonist was arranged to fall in love with the male protagonist who had a "grudge against the extermination of the family", and the tragic female supporting role was also reduced to the "background board" of the love between the male and female protagonists, and was devalued by the protagonist as worthless; in order to make the male protagonist have a righteous aura, he, who was originally a villain and wanted to kill everyone, suddenly became a benevolent king in the middle of the series, and was criticized by the audience for his illogicality.

Secondly, the trend of "fighting for ranking" also forces the film producers to "perform" all kinds of fancy words when making official announcements in order not to offend artists and fans. For example, when Yu Zheng officially announced "Five Fortunes", in order to prevent all parties from tearing up the rankings, he designed a "Ferris wheel rotating ranking". This kind of effort that is not beneficial to creation is a practice of chasing "face" without looking at "inside" under helplessness.

It can be found that whether it is the past "Awakening Age", "The World", "Kuangbi", or 2024's "Flower" and "Celebrating Yu Nian 2", these hit dramas that have been authenticated by multiple data are not "big male lead" or "big female lead" dramas centered on one person, but "all members are on the table", triggering group portrait dramas that break the circle of discussion. At the New Wave Forum on "How to make a hit drama and a hit person", Sun Hongzhi, director of TV drama operations at Tencent Video, also mentioned that the industry's effective broadcast standards are user value, economic value and industry value. And these three types of value cannot be brought by "big male lead" or "big female lead" alone.

Essentially, the controversy is still the "disease" of the "rank cancer" in the domestic entertainment industry. People who are keen on "ranking" mistakenly equate the rank with the value of the actors, and regard the ranking as an important capital for business negotiations and rights protection. However, the rank is only the "face", and what is truly recognized by the industry or even passers-by is the "inside". The so-called "number one" and "only male and female protagonists" do not equal achievements, nor can they directly bring exposure, growth opportunities and business resources.

In this year's Magnolia Awards, Liu Lin, who was not nominated but was on the hot search, also "running with" for ten years. Under the entry #Liu Lin has been running with Baiyulan for ten years#, many netizens expressed their regret for her and mentioned her countless classic roles.

It can be found that although excellent actors have not been nominated, they have long been uncrowned kings in the hearts of the audience. As Liu Lin once said, "I am not in a hurry to be famous or popular, but I can still work diligently in the acting industry."

#bjyx #yizhan #ggdd controversies #war of faith #industry article - mtl

100 notes · View notes

etherealsworldvision · 6 months ago

Text

What’s Your Current Energy and The Energy You’ll Come Into?

[ With a Bonus Mini Letter from Your Inner Self ]

Before I begin the reading I’d like to take a moment to talk about: Monterey Bay Aquarium. They’re a non-profit organization that aims to inspire conservation of the ocean. If you’re interested do check them out and if you’d like to further support them click donate.

Divider Credit: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

New song discovery for the reading: Ecstasy by Anna Tsuchiya

1. 2. 3.

🚨 P.S.A 🚨 : I do not give personal readings! Disclaimer: this is for entertainment only!

Added Description: all my readings are timeless and meant to reach those who resonate to the messages.

[ General Messages: 3; Secret Circle; Rings; Chesapeake Bay; Pink and Purple; “Pick Me”; Uses this :3 text emoji; Slow Burn; Gradual changes; Relationship Content; Insecurity; Free things; DnD; WhatsApp; Comparison; Anticipation; Lana Del Rey; Coquette & Cottegcore; Becauseimmissy content ]

Pile 1

Cards: 6 of Swords; The Chariot; 2 of cups ®; 9 of Pentacles ®; The High Priestess; 2 of Pentacles

[ Messages: Izana Kurokawa; Temperament; Full Moon; Sagittarius or Capricorn Moon; 222; Strength; Unconditional Love; Diluted; Akon (?); Jealousy, Jealousy by Olivia Rodrigo; Heal; 19 or 22; “Silver-Spoon”; Kyle; Craving; Fanfics; 66; 9; June 6th ]

This is oddly specific but Kyle kept popping up…so idk if you are or dealing with a person with that name. It may be an extra confirmation.

Your Current Energy:

You may have moved on from a romantic connection (I’m not getting platonic), I’m getting the sense that you’re in a good place right now. It could have been a big accomplishment because we have the chariot (major arcana). You might’ve experienced a traditional connection that ended up being what you imagined.

For some reason, I keep thinking about relationship advice on tiktok and twitter (discourses). It may have placed a negative effect on your perception of what a relationship is supposed to look like. For a few, you may have grown up around traditional relationships and (might subconsciously) sought for that. Overall there is an emphasis on Traditional relationships regarding gender roles and stereotypes. I feel like it doesn’t help that there’s also a new-age agenda of approaching (new) relationships (mind games) as well as isolation.

After experiencing that you might’ve thought, “Why does everyone want this?” Or “Relationships aren’t all that great”. There’s this sense of having a nihilistic view in love because of media and personal experience. Which, I don’t blame you.

I don’t know if you recently stumbled on a post or something about love but I feel like it challenged your stance on it. Which leads to you wanting a better mindset of love & connections despite what you’ve gone through. Currently, you may be trying to find the balance in your connection (with yourself and other people) and getting to really know yourself.

The energy you’ll come into:

With the high priestess here, you may be learning how to be in tune with your emotions and your gut when it comes to people/connections. I feel like, because you’re getting to know yourself better and starting to understand what you want you’ll have an easier time seeking balance.

Compromise and balance is being emphasized in this reading, so maybe that’s the thing you’ll be focusing on (healing). What is your relationship with Compromise and Balance? How did it affect you? I also see that this will come once understanding nuances instead of having an “extremist” view. Another thing is that you crave for a stable relationship and seek it by finding someone who is stable.

Which is fine but there’s this big need of: them having to be “the (perfect) one” before entering in a committed relationship. You may have gotten fs readings/astro stuff because of this. The funny thing here is — in order to be in a committed relationship is to be okay with the unknown and trusting yourself. I know it’s easier said than done but that’s what I’m getting.

Another thing I’m getting is how you’re challenging yourself to be more focused on yourself in terms of finances, health, and basically practical things. There’s this sense of being grounded; how you want to treat yourself via materials and consumption.

Letter from Your Inner Self

“Who said we have to be rigid to be treated like ‘royalty’? Look at Simba! He's fun and outgoing — he’s still a well respected king and with the love of his life! We need to loosen up a bit, be more courageous when it comes to stepping out of our comfort zone. The longer we stay in our old ways we’ll end up living with regret, that’s worse than living with consequences! How about we do the first thing we were scared of? If we get a booboo on our knee that’s fine at least we did it. If they don’t show interest then that’s okay too, we can continue to sail. All I’m saying is we should have the courage to go with the flow and live our life to the fullest instead of wallowing or through the screen/fantasies. Let’s embrace the unknown and hope for the best, yeah?”

Alrighty pile 1 that’s all I have for you today. Thank you so much for sticking through until the end, I greatly appreciate it. I’m giving you virtual hugs 🫂 and shooting hearts at you! 🧡🧡🔫 *Pew Pew*

Pile 2

Cards: Knight of Swords; King of Pentacles; Empress ®; 10 of Cups; Knight of Cups; The Devil

[ Confirmation Messages: Rollercoaster; Lilo & Stitch; “Inner Demons”; Renaldo from Los Espookys; Camera; Water and Earth Placements; San Francisco; Fear; Amusement Parks; Kali Uchis; ‘Take a Seat’; Road-trips; Night Drives; 333 ]

Your Current Energy

Okay Pile 2 your current energy is stable in terms of finances (as well as materialistic things) and you’re well grounded. You may be looking into how you can better your current financial stability or just being more responsible by getting your needs met especially in money matters.

Another thing is — there’s this sense of caution in regards to spending money. Now, I can’t give financial advice (it’s not my forte) but I can give reassurance. If there is a bit of wiggle room to spend on a snack or on that t-shirt you like then it’s okay to get it. I feel like there’s this sense of shame in regard to spending despite being able to afford things.

I used to feel this way as well and I remember talking to my cousin about it. They would tell me, “Whenever I feel guilty about spending on things I like, I think about the amount of hard working hours I put in to be able to afford it.” To lessen the guilt or shame of buying something that makes us* happy. This doesn’t have to apply to huge spends — can be minor ones like an album or that pint of ice cream you’ve been eyeing at the store.

There’s just this sense of guilt of spending which leads to a bigger guilt of not being able to nurture yourself in the way you want to. I feel like there’s this blame you have towards yourself for wanting things and punishing yourself for not doing it (the “damned if you do damned if you don’t” situation). Based on your cards I don’t see money issues (currently going on) but I do see the trauma linked to it. I don’t know if this stems from childhood or recent experiences.

(If you can, talk with someone you trust. They may have some insight that you need or just connecting with someone in general.)

The Energy You’ll Come Into

What’s funny is: there’s this sense of “fuck it we ball” vibe. I don’t know how it got to this sudden shift but it’s reminding me of one of the reasons why this acc exists. So maybe a tiktok or reel will piss you off into buying something for yourself with zero shame.

( I struggle with imposter syndrome, when I saw a YouTube short of someone dropping a 50lb lollipop from a rooftop and called it an “experiment” (it’s just obnoxious food waste! There was no science or anything!). I got so mad that they were earning money for wasting food I ended up saying “fuck this I’m adding to society” and boom here I am lol. )

I’m not saying your financial trauma is going to magically disappear but there is this sense of being fed up with how it makes you feel. If you are (or will be) seeing a therapist you may be working on your relationship with this financial trauma. I think another thing that you will be coming into is learning how spending and financial issues have affected you. I feel like during this period you may be reflecting on your relationship with money while doing exposure therapy.

But yeah the energy you’ll come into is indulgence and emotional fulfillment (however be careful as to not over do it) without zero shame. Despite not having any balance cards besides the King of Pentacles — I do feel like that’s what you’ll be coming into. Working on balancing your wants and needs while regulating your emotions when it comes to money.

Letter from Your Inner Self

“I know we struggled with money but we’ve put in the hard work to make ourselves happy. Why not bask in our success for just a minute? Why not see how far we come by planning something for ourselves? Can’t we at least congratulate ourselves for putting our foot in the door and say “I did it”! Because we did do that! Yeah, yeah we dealt with delays, some difficulties along the way but we pulled through! We did that, baby! We made it happen — we have a job, a career! Let's celebrate ourselves and give ourselves the gratitude we deserve. We fucking earned it!”

Alrighty pile 2 that’s all I have for you today. Thank you so much for sticking through until the end, I greatly appreciate it! I’m wishing you the best! Remember it’s okay to have nice things for yourself! 🧡

Pile 3

Cards: Page of Swords; The World; 7 of Cups; Page of Pentacles; Knight of Cups; The Hierophant ®

[ Confirmation Messages: Astrology; Occult; Investments in Hobbies; Culinary Arts; New Passions; Lack; TikTok; Radios; Seltzers; Renaissance Fair; OktoberFest (?); Young or New Energy; Amethyst Crystal (Pendant); Twilight; Taking a Leap of Faith; Vampires; Vibrant Personality: 3 Body Problem ]

Your Current Energy

Your energy is like the sun after a cloudy day — like it is not like the other two piles. To be honest your excitement feels so contagious (in a good way). So you may have been very patient in the past or passive. You kind of just let life pass you by until something comes up.

When it did come to you and you took that chance it’s as if the world showed itself. There's so many options to choose from and that’s what’s getting you super excited. I feel called to say there are not wrong choices as it can work out with persistence and hard work.

Since you are in the process of accomplishing things or already achieved it — you may be wanting to expand/explore what’s out there for you. Let's say you got your drivers license, now you get to drive to the place you want. Or let’s say you took a chance on an idea then suddenly, you get loads of engagement. Because you took this chance a lot of opportunities are coming your way to the point it’s almost overwhelming.

The Energy You’ll Come Into

Because you’re putting in the work towards something you love — you’ll feel more fulfilled. I feel like whatever you’re working on will be another way to gain connections. It doesn’t have to be transactional connections — it just means you may make friends along the way or collaborate.

This especially applies to people who went the “unconventional route”. It feels like you made a decision that really aligns with you. I think what also really inspired you is seeing how people made their dreams come true, even if it’s by doing the simplest things. There is encouragement to remain open to what’s to come, especially when it comes to your creative skills.

I’m not getting too much on your future energy besides you making an earning from it and feeling fulfilled. I am getting this celebratory vibe that you have done it from the ground up. Through your patience and perseverance you were able to make it happen. I’m also getting a confirmation “yes, do it” to the question you’ve been really really thinking about.

Letter from Your Inner Self

“Listen…I know your intuition and anxiousness is going haywire right now. However, to feel your intuition you’ll feel a strong and I mean a strong pull to do something. I’m encouraging you to do it — do it even if you’re alone. You’ll never know the outcome unless you do it. Yes it’s unconventional but what’s the harm in taking that chance? We did it once, why not do it again and see where it takes us? It’ll make us happier knowing we did it instead of never doing anything. I believe in us, so don’t lose hope.”

Alrighty Pile 3 that’s all I have for you. Thank you so much for reading until the end, I greatly appreciate it! I’m so excited for you and wishing for things to go smoothly! Best of luck! 🍀🧡

#Spotify #pick a card reading #pick a card #tarot #tarot pick a card #tarotblr #pick a picture #tarot readers of tumblr #tarotreading #fire signs #earth signs #astrology

76 notes · View notes

truly-neutral-art · 8 months ago

Text

Din/Luke Pacific Rim AU pt.3

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.4

Welcome to part 3 of my madness as I continue to take inspiration from scenes in the movie. This is when Din get's a full view of Luke's scars (and is caught looking) not long after the drift compatibility tryouts. He still doesn't know of their origins, but he might find out soon 👀👀👀 (More info under the cut if you're interested).

Anyways, hope my insanity entertains y'all! There's still plenty more to come and perhaps even more in the works.

P.S. All the love that this idea has been shown has been a great motivator for me to work on the fic. So thank you to everyone who's interacted with these posts and have shown their interest. Glad to know I'm not alone in being interested in a niche ship and a 10 year old movie crossover.

More info about Luke's Scars: It starts with part of the timeline I've formulated.

2027 - Luke becomes a pilot with Biggs.

January, 2028 - Death of Paz; Birth of Grogu; Din leaves the Jaeger program

August, 2028 - Death of Biggs; Luke is injured;

2029 - Leia becomes a pilot and is Luke's new partner

So, essentially Luke joined the program very young (17) while Leia was still studying politics with the Organas. Biggs was Luke's drift partner and they piloted together for a year.

The destruction of Razor Crest and the death of Paz/disappearance of Din marked the turning point for the Jaeger program. Not long after that incident the Jaegers were struggling to fight back against the onslaught of Kaiju. More frequent attacks along with higher category Kaiju started to wear them thin.

In a particularly dicey situation, Luke and Biggs were deployed on their own to deal with a CATIII Kaiju while backup was on the way. Despite how skilled the two were, the Kaiju overwhelmed them before backup could come and their Con Pod was ripped from their Jaeger. The damage caused an energy serge through the pilot suits causing Luke to get his scars. Those injuries, plus the ones from getting tossed onto shore, also resulted in Bigg's death.

After hearing about this, and while Luke was recovering. Leia decided to join the program and began her training. By the time Luke was recovered she was graduating cadet school and they were able to pilot together. It took some time for Luke to get used to piloting again after being connected to someone who died, but he trained himself to feel the serenity in the drift and keep those memories at bay. Luke's control while in the drift is next to no one except maybe Anakin, but he hasn't piloted in a long time, so it's hard to say.

Speaking of Anakin, he isn't supper happy about his children being pilots, but there wasn't much he could do to dissuade them. After Padme's death during a Kaiju attack, and Anakin subsequently blaming himself for it, he threw himself into the program. He wasn't able to raise the twins because he was on duty so they were raised by Owen and Beru as well as mentored by the Organas (mostly Leia).

Leia is resentful of Anakin for leaving them when they were so young and had just lost their mother. Luke mostly blames himself in an unreasonable way and thinks he wasn't worth enough for Anakin to stick around. The reason Anakin did leave was so he could try to stop the Kaiju and make the world safe for his kids. However, in the process, he may have lost the time he could have had with them.

#dinluke #star wars #luke skywalker #din djarin #art #fanfic #fanfiction #the mandalorian #dinluke fanart #dinluke au #pacific rim au #leia organa #tru's dinluke pacific rim au

136 notes · View notes

lividstar · 6 months ago

Text

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎Chapter One: A Change

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 9k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, first person is only used in your journal entries so don’t worry, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ Moving to Paris in order to leave your past in Arcadia Bay had been a long-term goal for a while now, and you were more than excited to finally have this dream of yours within your grasp. Of course, things won’t always turn out well consistently, and you had to be reminded of this in the worst way possible.

a/n: i’m having a huge struggle with figuring out how i’m supposed to conclude ‘sly fox, dumb bunny’ thus i decided to put it on hold for now. in order to compensate for that, allow me to introduce an entirely new series to keep you guys entertained <3 this was originally supposed to be oneshot but tumblr’s 1k block limit per post won’t allow that haha :’D still haven’t figured out how many chapters this will have in total but it will definitely be more than 2!

October 24th, 2018

If there was one lesson that struck me the most this year, it would definitely be the fact that in order to be able to move forward, making changes in your life are necessary, no matter how minor or major it may be. Maybe it could be something simple, like trying out a new restaurant different from the one near your house that you’ve been going to for pretty much your entire life, with the 0.5% possibility that you may cross paths with someone in the new place you’ll choose to visit, and the either lesser or bigger possibility that they may be the key to changing the way you view your existence.

Or maybe, it could be something as major as settling in a foreign setting to rewind the clock of your life right back to the very beginning—which is the change I am currently aiming for. I just feel like the opportunities that my hometown offers to me are way too restricted, you know? It’s like I don’t feel like I can push my potential to its very fullest in a place that isn’t big enough to withstand it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I hate it here—in fact, Arcadia Bay is the only place I can call my home without having any second doubts about it. But that’s exactly the problem. It feels like a home with locked doors, and I don’t hold the keys needed for it to be unlocked.

So then, months ago, I decided to take the risk and grab the opportunity to fly to Paris. I don’t know why exactly I chose it out of all the other choices laid out in front of me, but there’s just something about it that captivates me—better yet, draws me in. When I was surfing on the internet, looking to see which places are the best choices if you want to move out and start a new life, I came across Paris, and once I did, I knew I couldn’t just continue scrolling to look for other options. It’s like I had to choose to go there and nothing else, if you catch my drift.

I’m currently writing this in the airport, waiting for my flight to arrive. And by the time I step foot into Paris, I’ll make sure to write an entry as soon as possible—if unpacking won’t take up too much of my time. I honestly can’t wait for Paris! I hope it goes the other way around, too :)

Letting out a sigh of relief, you clicked your pen to push the ballpoint back in, gently shutting your journal and putting it back in one of your luggages. Staring at the sunset through the glass walls of the airport as you let your gaze be dragged back and forth by planes that were both departing and landing, you couldn’t help but let a wistful smile appear on your face. Even long ago, you already got aboard on a ship of longing for a change, a major event that will change the trajectory of your life for all the years that are yet to come. But you’ve never really been brave enough to keep your word back then, thus, the idea eventually rotted until it turned into a thought buried in the very back of your mind.

What you weren’t expecting at all was that very thought to come crawling back to bite you years later, but it’s been a long while since you neglected the idea, and now, you were no longer the same scaredy cat who had a knack for stressing herself out over the potential consequences of her actions instead of choosing to live in the moment—well, you were still a bit of a coward on specific circumstances, but no longer as much now. It wasn’t really charged by a highly traumatic moment or anything—you just came to realization that longing for a change without actually taking an action upon it won’t do anything on a random Sunday while moping over your laundry pile that refuses to decrease when you’ve literally been neglecting your house chores for an entire week straight.

The different jobs you’d take up almost every 3 business weeks due to always being fired over the most mediocre of reasons didn’t help with getting your life together either, especially since all of them had a low pay rate. Well, it only makes sense for things to be that way, considering your town was small and wasn’t really that fortunate in terms of financial matters, but that doesn’t mean you’re supposed to just suck it up and endure it. After all, why would you expect yourself to feel pity for the reason behind why you’re still unsure of what path you’re supposed to tread in life?

This was also one of the many reasons you decided to move to another country—you weren’t just hoping to experience a life-changing switch up, you were hoping to be able to find yourself throughout your journey in a foreign setting. You’ve never really been sure of what you wanted to be, always too busy with thinking of ways to survive rather than ways to live.

The speakers scattered around the walls of the airport then began to ring, signaling the departure of a flight. “Attention, passengers: Flight 276 to Paris is now boarding at Gate 12.”

You felt your heart skip a beat as the announcement rang through the terminal. With a deep breath, you stood up, gathering your belongings with a mix of excitement and nerves. This was it—the moment you’d been waiting for. The walk to Gate 12 felt surreal. People occupied themselves in their personal activities around you, dragging suitcases and chatting in various languages, but it all seemed to blur together as your focus remained on the boarding gate ahead. Handing your boarding pass to the attendant, you couldn't help but smile as they welcome you aboard.

Stepping onto the plane, the cool air and the quiet hum of the engines greeted you. Finding your seat, you settled in, glancing out the window at the fading light of the evening. This was the beginning of your new chapter, and as the plane began to taxi down the runway, you felt a sense of determination wash over you. Paris was waiting.

The flight was short, but for you, who had already been brimming with anticipation for what felt like an eternity, each passing second seemed to stretch into hours. Every tiny movement of the plane, every faint hum of the engines, felt amplified by the adrenaline spreading through your veins. You had spent weeks imagining this moment, and now that it was finally here, the reality felt almost too surreal to grasp.

As the plane soared above the clouds, the world below seemed to shrink, becoming a patchwork quilt of landscapes, cities, and oceans. The setting sun painted the horizon in brilliant hues of gold and orange, casting a warm, ethereal glow over everything. You pressed your face to the window, your breath fogging the glass as you gazed out at the breathtaking view. The sprawling scenery beneath you brought a sense of comfort, a reminder of the vastness of the world and the endless possibilities that awaited you.

Your thoughts drifted to the life you were leaving behind. Memories of your hometown, with its familiar streets and faces, flashed through your mind. There was a pang of nostalgia, but it was quickly overshadowed by the excitement of the new chapter you were about to begin. You closed your eyes, intending to rest them for just a moment. The gentle hum of the plane and the slight turbulence lulled you into a light nap, the anticipation and exhaustion of the journey catching up with you.

You were awoken by the voice of the pilot crackling through the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you look out of your windows to the left, you will see the Eiffel Tower in the distance as we begin our descent into Paris.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the grogginess of sleep quickly replaced by a rush of excitement. You pressed your face to the window once more, your heart skipping a beat at the sight that greeted you. There, standing tall against the backdrop of the glowing sky, was the Eiffel Tower. Its iron lattice structure, illuminated by the last light of the day, seemed to beckon you, a symbol of the dreams and opportunities that lay ahead.

The plane began its descent, and the details of the city became clearer. The Seine River snaked its way through the heart of Paris, its waters reflecting the shimmering lights of the bridges and buildings that lined its banks. You could see people walking along the river, tiny figures in the distance, living their everyday lives in this magical city. The closer you got, the more real it all became.

As the wheels touched down on the runway, a wave of emotions washed over you. Relief, excitement, and a hint of nervousness mingled together, creating a heady cocktail of feelings that made your heart race. The plane taxied to the gate, and the passengers around you began to gather their belongings, ready to disembark. You joined them, your hands trembling slightly in excitement as you reached for your carry-on bag.

Stepping off the plane and into the terminal, you were immediately struck by the vibrant energy of the place. The air was filled with a symphony of languages, the chatter of travelers from all corners of the globe blending together in a harmonious cacophony. The terminal itself was a hive of activity, with people bustling about, some rushing to their next destination, others leisurely browsing the shops and cafes.

You followed the flow of people through the airport, the sights and sounds of Paris already beginning to enchant you. The aroma of freshly baked croissants and strong coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the subtle scent of perfume from the duty-free shops. The polished floors gleamed under the bright lights, reflecting the excitement in your eyes.

With your luggage in hand, you navigated through the crowd, your steps quickening as you neared the exit. The doors slid open, and you stepped out into the cool evening air. The city of Paris stretched out before you, alive with lights and sounds. The aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries wafted through the air, mingling with the distant hum of traffic and the occasional burst of laughter from a nearby café.

You took a deep breath, letting the reality of it all sink in. This was your new beginning, your fresh start—all chances to achieve every dream you had always wanted to turn into reality were eagerly waiting for you. As you hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address of your new apartment, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe and wonder. Paris was everything you had dreamed of and more, and you were ready to embrace every moment of it.

The taxi ride through the streets of Paris felt like a dream. The city was a blend of old-world charm and modern vibrancy, with historic buildings standing proudly alongside trendy boutiques and cafes. You watched as people went about their lives, completely unaware of the new arrival who was already falling in love with their city.

The taxi driver, an older gentleman with a kind smile, made pleasant conversation during the ride. “Is this your first time in Paris?” he asked in a thick French accent.

“Yes, it is, sir,” you replied, your voice tinged with excitement. “I’ve always dreamed of coming here.”

“Ah, Paris is a city of dreams,” he said, his eyes twinkling in the rearview mirror. “You will love it here, I’m sure.”

Finally, you arrived at your apartment, a quaint building nestled in a quiet street. The driver helped you with your luggage, and you thanked him, giving him a generous tip. As you approached the building, the landlord, a friendly-looking middle-aged woman, stepped out to greet you. “Bonsoir! You must be the new tenant,” she said warmly, extending her hand. “I am Madame Dupont."

“Bonsoir, Madame Dupont,” you replied, taking her hand in yours and gently shaking it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Welcome to Paris,” she said, her smile broadening. “I hope your journey was pleasant. Now, let me show you to your apartment.”

You followed her inside, the cozy interior of the building immediately making you feel at home. She led you up a narrow staircase to the second floor, where she unlocked the door to your new apartment. “This is it,” she said, opening the door and stepping aside to let you enter first. “I hope you will find it comfortable.”

You stepped inside, your eyes widening as you took in the charming space. The apartment was small but cozy, with large windows that offered a stunning view of the Parisian streets below. The furnishings were simple yet elegant, and there was a welcoming warmth to the place that instantly put you at ease.

“It’s perfect,” you said, turning to Madame Dupont with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she replied. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. The other tenants are very friendly, and there’s a lovely café just down the street. I’m sure you’ll settle in quickly.”

“Thank you, Madame Dupont.” You gave her a grin filled with gratitude. “I really appreciate it.”

She handed you the keys, her smile never wavering. “Enjoy your stay in Paris. I have a feeling you’ll have many wonderful adventures here.”

With that, she left you to settle in, closing the door behind her. You took a moment to soak it all in—the cozy apartment, the view of the streets below, the realization that you were finally here, in Paris. Unpacking your belongings, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. You have made it. You were here, ready to start this new chapter of your life. As you stood by the window, looking out at the city that would now be your home, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful adventure.

Once you finished unpacking your belongings, you were about to settle down and immediately continue your journal entry for the day, but then you remembered Madame Dupont mentioning a café nearby the apartment. You mused to yourself, why not start your very first step into your new life now? You went through the rack of clothes you had just finished hanging inside your closet. Since you’d read somewhere that the weather in Paris was very cold lately, you decided to go for a comfortable, chic outfit made with a fabric thick enough to help you withstand the climate, paired with a long beige coat.

Debating whether to wear a beret as a cherry on top, you figured that would be way too much of a giveaway to the city folks that you were new around here. Instead, you chose one of the small bags you brought with you that wasn’t too big but big enough to fit your journal and essentials. Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you smiled to yourself in approval before heading out.

As you made your way outside the apartment, you passed by Madame Dupont, who sent a wide grin your way. “Already going out for an adventure, huh? I see you’ve got a strong sense of spirit in you, young lady. Take care.”

You lightly laughed and returned her smile. “Thank you, Madame Dupont. I’ll make sure to be back soon before it’s too late,” you promised, bidding her farewell before heading out and not looking back.

You felt a little foolish for forgetting to ask Madame Dupont where exactly the café was located before leaving, as now you were on your third circle around the apartment wondering where on earth the café was. Determined not to give up, you tried once more, scanning the streets with renewed focus. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a café came into your line of sight, and you let out a relieved sigh. The place was filled with activity, its warm lights and inviting atmosphere drawing you in. You decided to head for the vacant tables outside, appreciating the opportunity to soak in the vibrant Parisian street life.

Settling into a seat, you placed your bag on the table and took out your journal. The evening air was crisp, but your thick outfit kept you warm. As you opened your journal, you glanced around, taking in the sights and sounds of your new city. The café’s ambiance was filled with the soft murmur of conversations, the clinking of cups and plates, and the occasional laughter from nearby tables. You took a deep breath, savoring the moment. This was your new beginning, your first step into the life you had dreamed of. With a smile on your face, you began to continue your entry for October 24th.

I made it! I’m finally here in Paris, and let me tell you, the way it is described by media articles and people in social media spaces definitely does not entirely sum up just how beautiful it actually is in real life. I know it hasn’t even been half a day since I got here, but I can already feel myself falling in love with this city. Well, I guess they call it the city of love for a reason, right? I mean, in a literal context, how I feel is not why Paris is called such, but I’d like to think falling in love with the endless opportunities a certain place offers to you gives a more heartwarming feeling than falling in love with those who live in it.

Anyway, the journey felt like an eternity, but the sight of the Eiffel Tower from the plane made every second worth it. Stepping off the plane and into the terminal was like stepping into a dream, one you’d never catch yourself wanting to get out of. The energy, the diversity, the sheer magic of it all—it’s everything I imagined and more.

Madame Dupont, my landlord, is incredibly kind. She welcomed me warmly and showed me to my cozy apartment. It’s small, but it’s all I can afford for now, so it’ll do. It provides me with a spectacular view of the streets below, too, so I guess it’s not really that bad. After unpacking, I decided to explore the neighborhood, and now, I’m currently sitting at a charming café just around the corner from my apartment as I’m writing this.

The atmosphere here is enchanting. The air is filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the chatter of people enjoying their evening. I feel alive, inspired, and ready to embrace whatever comes my way. This is the start of my new life, and I couldn’t be more excited. I’m sure it’ll take me a while before I get used to the new environment, but everyone starts somewhere, right?

Just as you finished your entry, a waiter approached your table with a friendly smile. “Bonsoir, mademoiselle. What can I get for you this evening?”

You looked up, momentarily taken aback by the realization that you were truly in Paris. “Bonsoir,” you replied, returning his smile. “Could I please have a café au lait?”

“Of course,” he said with a nod. “I’ll bring it right out.”

As the waiter walked off, you looked around, taking in the sights and sounds of the café and the street beyond. Even though it had barely been 24 hours since you arrived, you could already feel the major changes in your life beginning to take place. Listening to your gut and deciding to move to Paris was definitely the best decision you’d made so far. Your hometown was nice, but it had finished serving its purpose. From now on, it was nothing but a distant memory that could only be fondly looked back at and not returned to.

Minutes later, the waiter came back with your order and placed it down on your table with a kind smile. You return it back with an even wider grin, thanking him with utmost gratitude as he went off to serve other customers and left you with your internal musings.

Paris felt like a breath of fresh air, a place where you could truly spread your wings and explore your potential. The city’s energy was infectious, filling you with a sense of possibility and excitement for the future. The people, the culture, the very air you breathed—it all felt like an invitation to start anew, to discover parts of yourself you never knew existed. As the sky darkened and the street lights flickered on, casting a warm glow over the cobblestone streets, you felt a sense of contentment wrap you in an embrace.

Noticing that it was getting quite late, you hurriedly began to pack your items. The last thing you wanted was to stay in the streets for too long and risk getting into trouble before you could even start your new life. Plus, you didn’t want to leave a bad impression on Madame Dupont by breaking your promise to return before it got too late. And you certainly didn’t want to stay up too long and miss the opportunity to wake up early tomorrow to start searching for a job to settle yourself in.

In your haste, you quickly gathered your things, placing them back in your bag. However, in your rush, you forgot to place your journal back inside. You slung your bag over your shoulder, the adrenaline of the day still lingering in your veins as you made your way back to your apartment.

As you neared your apartment, a sudden realization hit you—you had left your journal at the café. Panic surged through you as you turned on your heel and rushed back, your heart pounding with urgency.

The café was still open, and you hurried inside, scanning the tables where you had been sitting. Your journal was nowhere to be seen. Swallowing your anxiety, you approached the counter where a waiter was wiping down some glasses.

“Excuse me,” you said, your voice tinged with worry. “I left a black journal here earlier. Do you have a lost and found section?”

The waiter looked up and smiled kindly. “Yes, we do. Follow me.” He led you to a small office in the back and began rifling through a box of forgotten items. “Apologies, what did you lose again?”

“A black journal,” you repeated, your stomach in knots.

The waiter nodded and pulled out a plain black notebook. “Is this it?”

You sighed in relief. “Yes, that’s the one. Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” he said with a smile. “Glad we could help.” You thanked him again and hurried out of the café, eager to get back to your apartment. You clutched the journal tightly in your hands, not bothering to check it until you were safely back in your room.

Once you were home, you finally took a moment to catch your breath. You sat on your bed and opened the journal, flipping past the first page. But something was off. The pages weren’t filled with your handwriting; instead, they were covered in otherworldly sketches of fashion designs, complete with detailed notes.

Confused, you flipped back to the front cover and saw a name scrawled there in neat handwriting: Kim Hongjoong.

Not being able to keep your curiosity in check, you decided to take a look at the sketches in the journal. Opening the first few pages, you find yourself to be immediately in awe with the sight that greets you.

The first page featured an elegant evening gown, the kind that would turn heads at any high-class event. The dress was sleek and form-fitting, with a high neckline and elegantly patterned lace detailing that cascaded down the back. The fabric seemed to shimmer even on the page, giving it a sense of movement and grace. There was a small note attached to the side:

“Inspired by the twilight sky. Use silk chiffon for the outer layer, color: midnight blue.”

You flipped to the next page and found a chic, modern pantsuit. The jacket was tailored to perfection, with sharp lines and a slightly oversized fit, giving it a contemporary edge. The trousers were high-waisted and wide-legged, creating a powerful and stylish silhouette. Another note accompanied this design:

“Power and elegance combined. Fabric: wool blend, color: charcoal gray. Consider adding a silk blouse in white.”

The next sketch was a whimsical cocktail dress. It had a flared skirt that ended just above the knees and a fitted bodice adorned with floral embroidery. The dress seemed playful yet sophisticated, perfect for a summer party, a fancy brunch, or maybe even a date by a park. The note read:

“Spring collection. Use organza for the skirt and satin for the bodice. Embroidery: floral motifs in pastel shades.”

Turning the page, you found a casual yet stylish ensemble. This one consisted of a cropped leather jacket, a simple white tee, and high-waisted skinny jeans. The look was completed with ankle boots and a statement necklace. The note next to it said:

“Urban chic. Jacket: genuine leather, color: black. Jeans: denim, dark wash. Accessorize with bold jewelry.”

You continued to flip through the pages, marveling at the diversity and creativity of the designs. Each sketch seemed to tell a story, and it was clear that Kim Hongjoong had a keen eye for fashion and an impressive ability to translate his vision onto paper. Another design caught your eye—a stunning bridal gown. The dress was timeless and romantic, with a sweetheart neckline, a fitted bodice, and a flowing tulle skirt. Delicate lace covered the bodice and trailed down into the skirt, giving the dress a dreamy, ethereal quality. The note attached was longer:

“Bridal collection. Bodice: lace overlay on satin, color: ivory. Skirt: multiple layers of tulle for volume, same color. Add pearl embellishments to the bodice for an extra touch of elegance.”

You found yourself getting lost in the artistry of the sketches. Whoever Kim Hongjoong was, he definitely knew what he was doing. His designs were not only beautiful but also meticulously planned, with each detail carefully thought out and noted.

You couldn’t help but let your thoughts wander freely. Was he a fashion student? But his designs seemed too advanced for that level. An aspiring designer, perhaps? You had no idea. You hoped Kim Hongjoong hadn’t mixed his notebook with yours as well—but then again, why would there only be one black journal there if yours hadn’t already been taken?

What if Kim Hongjoong had been in the café hours before you came by and went back only to end up retrieving your personal journal instead of his sketchbook? One thing was for sure, you had a desperate sense of hope that he wasn’t snooping through it right now as you lay down and let yourself be drowned in your thoughts.

Well... you did snoop through his sketchbook, but journal entries are way more personal than that, aren’t they? You imagined him reading through your thoughts and musings, learning about your insecurities and dreams, unsure of how to feel about the scenario. It was one thing to admire someone’s creative work, but entirely another to delve into someone’s private reflections.

As you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind whirled with questions and possibilities. Who was Kim Hongjoong, and how could you find him to return his sketchbook and retrieve your journal, in case it was in his possession as well? The idea of someone else reading your innermost thoughts made you uneasy, but at the same time, the mystery of this encounter intrigued you.

Not even a day had passed, and yet Paris was already proving itself to be filled with extraordinary happenings.

—

“So… you’re telling me that not only did you forget the sketchbook you’ve been using since you started fashion school back in college—which you, by the way, claim to be your most prized possession, but when you went back to the café to retrieve it, you ended up taking a stranger’s notebook with you?”

Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his temples as he lightly banged the back of his head against his headboard. “Prized possession or not, you know I tend to be forgetful about my belongings, Seonghwa. So whatever you’re trying to imply, drop it. Plus, how was I supposed to know? The notebook they gave me was a hundred percent identical with what my sketchbook looks like.”

“And you didn’t bother checking the pages first before heading back here last night?” Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “You seriously waited until now to tell me about this?”

“First of all, I didn’t wait. You woke me up by telling me you’ll be coming over to check my latest designs for our autumn collection,” Hongjoong countered, crossing his arms in defense.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. “So, what, had I not called you, you would’ve waited until later in the afternoon to tell me?”

“That’s not the point!” Hongjoong buried his face deep in his palms, the skintone of his fingers mixing with the dark hues of his hair. “I’m stressed out and I already have a lot on my plate, so please, Seonghwa, if you’re not going to help me out with this, just leave.”

Seonghwa let out a soft sigh before throwing his arms up in defeat. Taking a couple steps to draw closer to Hongjoong’s bed, he took a seat on the edge of it, the cushion underneath shrinking. “I literally help you with everything for a living. I definitely don’t want to validate your stupidity, but if that’s what’ll bring money to the table, then fine, I’m all ears.”

“Will you stop acting like we’re just co-workers and I only hired you as a personal assistant to treat you like a slave? Mind you, you’re the one who came up with the idea of taking this responsibility to begin with.” Hongjoong groaned.

“Yeah, when I was a dumb man back in college,” Seonghwa retorted, though playfully, as he never really took the endless banter between him and Hongjoong seriously. It does get a little serious about twice a year, though, but doesn’t that happen to every friendship in this world?

“What changed now? You’re a dumb man in the fashion industry?” Hongjoong challenged, drawing the blankets closer to his torso.

Seonghwa gave him a disapproving look. “You better quit giving me attitude. It’s 7 in the morning, and I’m not having any of that today.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m your child!”

“Then stop acting like one!”

Hongjoong roughly dragged his palms across his face. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

“Good. Now that we’ve got that sorted out, have you done anything with the notebook, like, at all?” Seonghwa turned his body slightly to the left so he could face Hongjoong.

“I have. I checked the notebook a minute after you called me to ask about our autumn collection, and flipping through its first page was enough to tell me everything I needed to know. Although I do agree it would’ve been wiser to have done that the night before…” Hongjoong admitted, avoiding Seonghwa’s gaze as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, staring out the window of his penthouse.

“Everything you needed to know?” Seonghwa tilted his head.

“What was on the first page wasn’t a name—it was ‘Letters from the archive,’ and it was written in cursive. My sketchbook has my name on its first page,” Hongjoong explained, eliciting a sigh from Seonghwa.

“Letters from the archive, huh? The owner must be into literature,” Seonghwa mused. “Are you sure it really looks that identical to your sketchbook, though?”

“I am. I swear, there isn’t even a single difference. Here, I’ll show you.” Hongjoong stretched his arms, finally taking the blankets off of him and leaning closer towards his bedside table to pull the top drawer open. Once he had taken out the notebook, he pushed the drawer shut, moving to occupy the empty space beside Seonghwa on his bed. “Look at that and tell me it doesn’t look exactly like my sketchbook.”

“Oh,” was all Seonghwa could say as he examined the journal’s cover. “Well, I guess you’re not that stupid after all. I mean, you’re still stupid for forgetting your prized possession, but not as much anymore. I definitely wouldn’t have suspected a thing if I were you, either.”

“...”

“But I definitely would have decided to check the contents first—”

Hongjoong snatched the journal away from Seonghwa. “Yeah, yeah, I get it, whatever. So… what do I do now?”

“Maybe try flipping a page further? Just to see if you could find any information that could take you a step closer to figuring out what the notebook is for.” Seonghwa shrugged his shoulders.

Hongjoong hesitated. “What if it’s some sort of a personal journal? The eccentric cursive lettering kind of gives it away. Are you sure about that?”

“Positive. And if you’re immediately met with a journal entry, close it shut as soon as you can and we’ll try to find another way to see who the owner is. We’re not invading people’s privacy in the 21st century,” Seonghwa suggested, leaning back and placing his hands down on either side for support as he waited for Hongjoong to do as he said. “So?”

“It’s blank.”

“Huh?” Seonghwa straightened up, looking at the open journal laying down on Hongjoong’s lap. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. What now?” Hongjoong asked, staring blankly at the empty page. “I’m pretty sure the only way we can find out this person’s name or anything remotely hinting at their identity is if we go deeper and read at least one entry. Just one.”

“I don’t think that’s…” Seonghwa trailed off, considering Hongjoong’s words. Even if he hated to admit it, the man had a fair point. He was against his idea, but right now, it’s not exactly like they have any other choice. Sighing in defeat, he slumps his shoulders. “Fine. One entry, but that’s it. That’s as far as we should go.”

Hongjoong nodded in satisfaction, ecstatic that for once, Seonghwa actually views his perspective as something valuable. “Alright, one entry it is,” he mused, almost to himself, before flipping through the pages and stopping at a random entry.

July 10, 2018

Is it unacceptable to long for a major shift in your life? To desperately hope for a miracle to happen almost every night, just a couple seconds before your body entirely falls into the pit of unconsciousness? To be frankly honest, these are questions I have no answers to. Not because I’m empty-handed, rather, I’ve always been too afraid to step out of my tiny little bubble to find out the answers myself. How am I supposed to know if yearning for a change despite already being in an environment considered comfortable is unjustifiable if I’m not making any move to feel at least a fleeting touch of that “change” to begin with?

I know my parents think keeping me alone here in my hometown while they continued their lives in a different country was the best decision they’ve made for my entire lifespan because in their eyes, they view this as a way to teach me the art of independence or whatever my father called it, and don’t get me wrong, I love them dearly and I know they’re only doing all these things because they care for me, but if it’s a good decision in their eyes, why can’t it be in mine?

Yes, Arcadia Bay is the place where I grew up, the only place I feel enough connection with to call my home, but I have to be honest and admit that this place doesn’t exactly feel like something I could call a sanctuary anymore. I love it here, but I feel like this town was supposed to be nothing but a guiding light that has already served its purpose back in my childhood days. I feel like I’m not supposed to be here anymore—who knows, maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling so out of place ever since I started growing up.

I’m still unsure of whether I should initiate a change in my life as of now, but if I were to do so anytime soon, I think following my parents’ footsteps and moving to a new country as well would be the right decision for me. That’s a huge change, right? Maybe once I’m brave enough to stand firm on that decision, I can finally prove to them that I’ve grown to be the independent figure they’ve always wanted me to be. That would make them proud, right? Guess I’ll start browsing the internet for recommendations on one of these following days.

“Arcadia Bay?” Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrowed. “Hey, Seonghwa, could you look up where Arcadia Bay is?”

The aforementioned man didn’t need to be told twice, already pulling his phone out from the pocket of his tailored pants. “On it,” he replied before typing the words ‘Arcadia Bay’ in the browser’s search bar. Once the results appeared on his screen, he couldn’t resist but let out a hum of surprise. “Oh?”

“Why?” Hongjoong gently closed the journal, placing it on the empty spot to his left as he leaned closer towards Seonghwa, who gave him a clear view of the browser’s search results. “A secluded town located in…”

“So the owner isn’t from here, then?” Hongjoong whispered to himself, yet it was audible enough to make Seonghwa give a curt nod.

“The entry I chose to read was written on July 10, and they said something about wanting to move to a new country. I wonder if they’ve been here for a while or have just settled in…” Hongjoong trailed off. “Should I read the most recent entry?”

“Hongjoong, are you out of your mind? One entry is enough,” Seonghwa countered, but Hongjoong insisted. “I know, but how am I supposed to figure out if they’re new here or not?”

Seonghwa groaned. “You don’t need to know that to begin with. Reading one entry is invasive enough. Just leave the rest to me. I’ll figure out a way to track the owner down and see if your sketchbook is in their possession as well.”

Seeing that Hongjoong wasn’t convinced enough, Seonghwa softened, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Look, I know you’re worried, but we’ll figure this out, alright? I’ll do everything I can.”

“We can wait for autumn all we want, but autumn won’t wait for us, Seonghwa. What if the months pass by faster than we’re currently anticipating, and my sketchbook is still not in our hands? What will I do, then? You know I can’t mess this up.” Hongjoong’s figure slumped, a symbol of hopelessness.

A flash of empathy spread across Seonghwa’s gaze. “I know that more than you think I do, Hongjoong. And that’s exactly what I’m here for. I volunteered to be your personal assistant for a reason. Now, quit moping around, or else I’ll tell Wooyoung about this.”

“Oh, God, no—anything but that. You know he always does everything in his power to make me feel even worse when I’m having a horrible day,” Hongjoong said, groaning at the thought of his fashion brand’s photographer.

“I beg to differ. I think it’s just his own special way of cheering you up.” Seonghwa nudged him, a smile on his face. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about me snitching on you to Wooyoung, since he’s most likely busy with his photography gigs outside of taking pictures of models.”

At the mention of the word ‘model,’ Hongjoong’s ears perked up. “Speaking of models, you mentioned the other week you’re looking for a specific set of features that’ll match the vibe our upcoming collection is opting for, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve been working my soul off to try and search everywhere for a suitable muse, but luck hasn’t been on my side lately. My schedule today isn’t packed since yours isn’t, so I’ll make use of my free time later in the afternoon to conduct another search.” Seonghwa turned to Hongjoong, a grin of determination spread across his face.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d probably be in the trenches and not a penthouse right now.”

“Wish that was the case.”

“This is the only time I’m allowing myself to express my gratitude verbally, and that’s the response you chose to give me?”

You wandered through the streets of Paris, eyes scanning every shop window and café for signs advertising job vacancies. The bustling city, with its charming cobblestone streets and historic architecture, felt both enchanting and overwhelming. Every corner held a new promise, a new opportunity—or so you hoped.

Your first stop was a quaint little bakery that looked like it had been plucked straight out of a storybook. The sweet aroma of freshly baked bread wafted out as you pushed the door open, the bell above jingling to announce your arrival. A middle-aged woman with kind eyes greeted you from behind the counter. “Bonjour! How can I help you?”

You smiled, trying to mask your nervousness. “Bonjour. I was wondering if you might be hiring?”

Her smile faltered slightly, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but we’re fully staffed at the moment. But I do wish you the best of luck in your search!”

“That’s alright. Thank you,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Have a good day.”

The doorbell jingled again as you left, and you sighed, making a note to check back in a few weeks before continuing your job hunt. Next, you approached a charming bookstore nestled between a café and a flower shop. The smell of old books greeted you as you stepped inside, and the owner, an elderly man with glasses perched on the edge of his nose, looked up from his newspaper.

“Excuse me,” you began, your voice wavering slightly. “Are you looking for any help?”

He gave you a kind but weary smile. “I’m afraid not, dear. It’s just me here, and I can manage well enough. But thank you for asking.”

“Of course. Have a good day,” you said, nodding politely before exiting the store.

Feeling a bit discouraged, you decided to try your luck at a nearby café. The place was bustling with customers, and you hoped that meant they might need an extra pair of hands. You approached the counter where a barista was busy making coffee.

“Hi there, I was wondering if you’re hiring,” you asked when the barista had a moment to spare.

She glanced at you, her expression apologetic. “Oh, sorry, but we’re fully staffed right now. Maybe try back in a month or so?”

“A month… Okay, thanks anyway,” you replied, feeling your spirits dip further.

As the morning turned into afternoon, you found yourself in a part of the city you didn’t recognize. The streets here were pristine, lined with designer boutiques and luxury cars. The buildings were grand and elegant, their facades adorned with intricate details that spoke of old money and high status. It was clear that the people who lived here were exceptionally wealthy.

You spotted a small convenience store and decided to take a break, purchasing a bottle of water before finding a bench to sit on. You took a long sip of water, feeling the cool liquid soothe your parched throat. The hustle and bustle of the morning had worn you out, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret. Maybe you had underestimated just how difficult it would be to find a job in a new city, let alone in a foreign country where you barely knew anyone.

You glanced around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The buildings here were charming in their own way, but they didn’t have the same vibrant energy as the heart of Paris. You wondered how far you had walked, how many miles you had covered without even realizing it. The city seemed to stretch on endlessly, each new street a labyrinth of possibilities and dead ends.

As you sat there, you couldn’t help but think about how much you missed the familiarity of your hometown, despite its suffocating nature. Back there, you knew the ins and outs, the shortcuts and hidden gems. Here, everything was a mystery waiting to be unraveled—a mystery that, right now, felt overwhelming.

But you couldn’t afford to wallow in self-pity. You had made the choice to move here, to start anew, and you were determined to make it work. After all, wasn’t this what you had dreamed of? A fresh start, a chance to reinvent yourself in one of the most beautiful cities in the world?

You stood up, drinking the last drip of your water before tossing the bottle into a nearby recycling bin. You decided to continue your job search, reasoning that you might as well make the most of being in an unfamiliar part of the city, yet the next few hours passed in a blur of polite conversations and disappointing rejections. You visited a cozy bookstore, a flower shop, and even a small art gallery, but each time the answer was the same: no openings.

At a chic boutique, you approached a stylish woman arranging clothes on a rack. “Excuse me, are you hiring by any chance?”

She looked you up and down, her expression neutral. “Not at the moment. Try again in a few weeks.”

“Oh, um, alright. Thanks,” you said, trying to keep your tone upbeat.

A small restaurant was your next stop. The manager, a burly man with a thick mustache, listened as you asked about job openings. He shook his head. “Sorry, we’re not hiring right now. But I’ll keep your name in mind if something opens up.”

“I would appreciate that very much,” you said, handing him a slip of paper with your contact information.

You continued to push forward, determined not to let the string of rejections defeat you. At a florist’s shop, the owner, a woman in her forties with a friendly smile, seemed sympathetic. “I wish I could help, but we’re fully staffed for the season. Try the market down the street, though—they’re always busy.”

You thanked her and headed to the market, only to find the same disheartening response. The vendors were polite but firm: no openings.

By the time the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the city, you were exhausted. Your feet ached, and your spirits were low. You had covered a lot of ground, but you were no closer to finding a job than you had been that morning.

You made your way to a nearby bus stop, hoping to catch a bus back to your apartment. As you waited, you couldn’t help but reflect on the day’s events. It was disheartening to face so many rejections, but you tried to remind yourself that it was only the first day. Things would get better—they had to.

Just as a bus pulled up and you prepared to board, you noticed a man standing across the street, staring at you. He was well-dressed, his long, dark hair neatly styled, and there was something about his gaze that made you pause. But you didn’t have the energy to think much of it. You dismissed it as a coincidence, stepping onto the bus and finding a seat by the window.

As the bus pulled away, you watched the city pass by, the streets slowly transforming from the unfamiliar to the familiar. You leaned your head against the window, closing your eyes for a moment. Tomorrow is a new day, and you should continue your search. For now, you allowed yourself a moment of rest, letting the rhythmic motion of the bus lull you into a state of quiet reflection.

If only you had your journal with you.

Seonghwa strolled through the opulent streets, his mind still buzzing with the image of the woman he had seen at the bus stop. There was something undeniably captivating about you—your presence was like a breath of fresh air in the midst of the city’s chaos. Your aura practically reeked of autumn, a season that brought a sense of warmth and nostalgia, and your features harmonized perfectly with the vibe you carried. There was a certain grace you held, a blend of determination and gentleness that made you stand out.

Seonghwa had a unique talent, a third eye for spotting individuals who deserved to be showcased in the fashion industry. Today, it was as if a laser had hit him right in the eye when he saw you. He couldn’t shake the feeling that you were the perfect muse Hongjoong had been searching for.

As he approached Hongjoong’s penthouse, Seonghwa’s mind was racing. He had to tell Hongjoong about you, even if he didn’t know your name or where you were headed. He pushed open the door to the penthouse, finding Hongjoong hunched over his desk, engrossed in his work.

Hongjoong looked up, surprise evident on his face. “Seonghwa? You’re back already? And… wow. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Seonghwa shook his head, still trying to process what he had seen. “No, not a ghost. I saw the perfect muse for your works.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened, immediately intrigued. He leaned back in his chair, motioning for Seonghwa to sit down. “Settle down and tell me everything. Did you get her name?”

Seonghwa sighed, frustration creeping into his voice. “No, I didn’t. I only saw her just as she was getting on a bus across the street. But Hongjoong, you have to believe me. This woman—she’s exactly what you’ve been looking for. Her entire aura screamed autumn. It was like she was made to be your muse.”

Hongjoong frowned, disappointed but still intrigued. “You know how rarely you say something like that. In fact, I don’t think you’ve ever used the word ‘perfect’ to describe any of the models you’ve scouted.”

Seonghwa nodded sarcastically. “Thanks for the info, Sherlock. I know that very well. That’s why I’m so certain. She was different, like she wasn’t from here at all.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “Tell me more. What exactly did you see that made you so sure?”

Seonghwa took a deep breath, trying to put the ineffable into words. “It was the way she carried herself. There was a certain grace, a natural elegance that you don’t see every day. She had a strong, remarkable energy, yet there was also a touch of softness to it. Her presence was calming, almost like the gentle fall of autumn leaves. Her features were perfectly combined in a way that was so unique as if she’s the only one who could pull off such an appearance. It was her overall vibe—the warmth, the subtle strength, the sense of being grounded yet free.”

Hongjoong listened intently, absorbing every detail. “And you’re sure she’s not a local?”

“I don’t think so. There was something in her demeanor, a curiosity about her surroundings, that made me think she’s new here. She seemed to be exploring, taking in everything around her.”

Hongjoong’s disappointment deepened. “It’s a shame you didn’t get to speak to her. But if she’s new here, she might not have settled down yet. We could still find her.”

Seonghwa nodded. “That’s what I’m hoping for. We’ll need to keep our eyes open, maybe put out some feelers. Someone must have seen her.”

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, considering the possibilities. “Can you draw? Even just a little?”

Seonghwa blinked, caught off guard by the question. “A little, yeah. Why?”

Without another word, Hongjoong handed Seonghwa a pen and a piece of paper. “Draw what she looked like.”

Seonghwa hesitated for a moment before taking the pen. His eyebrows lightly furrowed as he began recalling the details as best as he could—the way you carried yourself, the way your presence seemed to radiate warmth. He began to sketch, his hand moving swiftly across the paper.

As he worked, Hongjoong watched intently, his anticipation growing with each stroke of the pen. Seonghwa’s drawing wasn’t perfect, but it captured the essence of what he had seen. The lines conveyed a sense of movement, a grace that was unmistakable. When he finished, he handed the drawing to Hongjoong.

Hongjoong couldn't take his eyes off the sketch. The lines were simple yet evocative, capturing an essence that stirred something deep within him. “She’s... ethereal,” he murmured, almost to himself. “It’s like even through this sketch, I can feel what you were talking about.”

Seonghwa leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “See? It was as if she had her own gravitational pull. Among all the people, she stood out. Not because of any single feature, but because of the way she seemed to belong and yet not belong at the same time. Like she was part of this world but also a visitor.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly, still entranced by the sketch. “You really do have a knack for psychoanalyzing people at first glance, don’t you?”

Seonghwa chuckled, nudging Hongjoong playfully. “It’s a gift, what can I say? I see beyond the surface. It’s what makes me such an asset to you.”

Hongjoong smirked, shaking his head. “An asset, huh? More like a pain sometimes.”

Seonghwa grinned. “Only sometimes? I must be losing my touch.”

Hongjoong laughed, the tension easing between them. “Well, you definitely haven’t lost your touch with this one. Seriously though, are you sure you weren’t hallucinating? She looks too good to be true.”

Seonghwa’s expression turned serious. “I’m as sure as I can be. She’s real, and she’s out there. I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes you just know when something is right.”

Hongjoong’s mind raced, the image of you taking root in his imagination. “I need that kind of authenticity, that depth that she seems to hold just from this sketch alone. Someone who embodies change, transition, like the seasons shifting.”

Seonghwa’s eyes lit up. “Exactly. That’s why I couldn’t just let it go. There was a sense of autumn around her—warmth mixed with a touch of melancholy, like she’s seen the world and carries its stories within her.”

Hongjoong’s thoughts were a whirlwind of possibilities. He could already see the designs taking shape, inspired by the image Seonghwa had drawn and the feelings it evoked. “You know, this could be the breakthrough we’ve been searching for. A muse like her could elevate the entire collection.”

Seonghwa smiled, feeling a surge of excitement. “I knew you’d understand. We just have to find her now. Maybe we can start by visiting the area where I saw her. There might be clues, or someone who knows her.”

Hongjoong agreed, his determination solidifying. “Yeah, we’ll start there and leave no stone unturned. I want to know everything about her—where she’s from, what brought her here, and what her dreams are. She’s the missing piece.”

Seonghwa chuckled softly. “You’re already captivated, and we haven’t even met her yet.”

Hongjoong smiled, a mixture of excitement and anxiety in his eyes. “I wouldn’t say that. It’s my passion for what I do speaking for me. No personal feelings involved. Sometimes, you just immediately know when something—or someone—is going to change everything.”

“So, what do you think, Hongjoong?”

“I think she’s that someone.”

🪞 — lividstar.

#౨ৎ﹒ノ﹒lividstar．#kim hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong ateez #park seonghwa #jung wooyoung

80 notes · View notes